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After it was all over, things changed.
Not that that was unexpected -- he'd been possessed by fucking dark fox spirit (which sounded a lot cooler than it actually was. The reality had in fact been very not cool at all). Things of course were going to change after that.
What Stiles had expected was after the initial rush of relief that they'd saved him and he was once again 100% Stiles Stilinski, was that everyone would take a step back from him. Not that they'd drop him or anything, his friends had way more class than that, but he had expected... distance. Suspicion. At the very least taking everything he said and did with a few more grains of salt than they had before because while it hadn't been him in control, it had been his body. A lot of horrible things had been said and done and that had to take a toll on the relationships in his life.
He expected that he'd have to earn back the trust and acceptance they'd given him before and that it wouldn't be an easy thing to do.
And that was okay -- Stiles was prepared for that. It sucked, but things could suck a lot worse. He was alive and himself again and that was the important thing. He could deal with everyone putting some distance between him and them, and he was fully prepared to do so.
Except that wasn't what happened.
Nobody took a step back. If anything everyone seemed to be pulling closer, but not in any creepy we're keeping our eye on you to make sure you stay in line sort of way. They all just seemed to want to be there, want to have him there and seemed to have totally forgotten that he'd (or at least his body) had tried to destroy them all not that long ago.
It didn't make any sense.
It didn't make any sense when the next time he'd had to explain some new supernatural shit to his Dad, talking twice as fast as usual and still fully expecting Dad to explode at him in disbelief because this would've been a hard sell even before his stint as the Big Bad... It didn't make sense when his Dad had cut him off after the most cursory explanation with a sharp nod and, "I believe you," followed by questions that showed he really did believe and was taking what Stiles had told him seriously.
Stiles had gone ahead and answered all his questions, but his confusion had finally had him blurt out, "Why?"
Dad had paused and given him just as confused a look. "Why what?"
"Why do you believe me?" and even he winced a little at the plaintive, almost needy note in his voice.
He saw comprehension dawn on Dad's face. Dad reached out and took hold of both of Stiles' shoulders, shaking him a little when he replied, "Because you're my son."
"You can't be sure," Stiles said, the words coming out in a broken voice. "Not after what I-" He was cut off by Dad hauling him into a full on hug.
"I'm sure," he repeated in a tone that held no uncertainty, arms tightly wrapped around Stiles. "You're my son, Stiles. Nothing that has happened can change that. Okay?"
It didn't really answer his question, not really, but Dad believed him, Dad claimed him and besides he was still wrapped up in a Dad Hug and Dad Hugs were the best hugs ever. "Okay," he said in a small voice, holding onto Dad just as tightly.
"Do you believe me?" Dad asked, turning the question back on him and Stiles choked on a sudden laugh.
"Yeah," he replied, voice stronger, feeling more steady. "Yeah, Dad, I do."
He still didn't understand it though.
He didn't understand it either when, the next time Stiles came up with a crazy plan to deal with the current supernatural threat hanging over them, Scott just nodded and said, "Let's do it."
Stiles had prepared evidence to convince Scott -- he'd even created flow charts and graphs! -- about all the reasons why this really was a good and necessary idea and not Stiles manipulating him or leading him into danger and was thrown completely off his stride when none of it was necessary.
"Just like that?" he asked, gaping at Scott's easy acceptance.
"You think it's our best option, right?"
"Short of a spell that as far as I can tell involves summoning something that looks remarkably like a wild jiggleypuff, it's our only option, yeah, but..." He trailed off with a shrug.
Scott cocked his head to the side."But?"
"You're just going to take my word for it?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Scott asked with a look of pure earnest confusion.
"Because..." Stiles began, but couldn't actually bring himself to say you shouldn't trust me, not when he'd been doing his damnedest to make sure he could. Even if all that extra work didn't seem necessary. "Because," he just repeated miserably, as if that was an entire reason on its own.
It was enough for Scott to seem to figure out what he meant because his eyes widened slightly and then he did the exact opposite of what Stiles had (feared) expected, coming closer and slinging an arm around Stiles' shoulders. "I'm always going to take your word for it, dude," he said easily. "Know why?"
Stiles shook his head, looking at his best friend, but unable, quite, to make himself meet his eyes.
"Because you're Stiles," Scott told him earnestly, like he'd just revealed the secrets of the universe.
That shouldn't be the reason. In fact, it should be the anti-reason. The words were on the tip of Stiles' tongue, but when faced with the earnest puppy eyes of his best friend, he just couldn't bring himself to say it. So instead, he just nodded and let Scott hug him and hugged Scott back, chalking the whole thing up to Scott being Scott.
Of course he was going to go out of his way not to treat Stiles any differently because that was what he thought best friends should do, and Stiles would be a worse friend than he already had proven himself to be if he didn't accept that effort with the gratitude it deserved.
It didn't stop him from bracing himself for the time when the effort would be too much for even Scott's faith in him.
But it kept not happening, the same way everyone kept not pulling away when really, that was the only sane reaction. And he kept bracing himself for when it would happen and not understanding why it wasn't.
He tried to broach the subject with Lydia one night when they were in his room working on their ongoing research into all things supernatural they may need to worry about. It had become a routine, her coming over once or twice a week and them working together on finding out whatever they could about what was top of the Need to Know Research at any given moment.
At first Stiles thought it was so she could keep an eye on him and he worked extra hard to document everything he found and made sure to have clear reasons why he would be looking into whatever it was so he could prove to her that he and his research was on the up and up. But it quickly became apparent to him that, for whatever reason, she took that as a given and was solely there to do what she said she was -- be his research buddy.
And that was so amazing to him and they worked so well together that Stiles did his best to just accept it as the gift it was. Until one night, when the conversations with his Dad and Scott were weighing heavy on his mind, he had to ask.
Lydia's answer surprised him. "You didn't shun me after Peter made me crazy and I poisoned you all with wolfsbane," she said
"That was different," Stiles protested reflexively.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "How?"
There were so many reasons it was in Stiles' head that he couldn't find the words to explain any of them. In the end the only words he could find were, "You're Lydia."
She smiled at him then as if he'd proven her point for her. "And you're Stiles."
Again with the same non-answer. Never mind that he'd told her basically the same thing. "Why does everyone keep saying that?" he whined, tugging at his hair in frustration as he fell back on his bed beside where Lydia was sitting. "That's the problem, not the answer."
Lydia looked down at him for a moment, then leaned over and dropped a kiss on his cheek. "Y'know, Stiles Stilinski," she said fondly, as she gathered her things and got up to leave, "for one of the smartest guys I know, you can be exceedingly stupid sometimes."
Which Stiles was in total agreement with. It just didn't do anything to answer his original dilemma.
The night he caught Derek sneaking into his bedroom window Stiles felt this weird sense of relief because finally someone was acting the way he expected them to. It figured that it would be Derek who would be the first one to start with the checking up on his activities, considering how many times Derek had been fucked over by people he trusted. Of course he would want to make sure it didn't happen again.
"Before you start," he said to Derek who was staring at the Stilinski Wall of Research with an expression that had equal chance of being suspicion, bemusement, or constipation, it really was hard to tell with Derek unless his eyebrows got into the act, "I've perfectly good, legitimate, non-evil reasons for researching binding spells." He scrambled over to his desk and pulled out the folder where he'd put together all the documentation behind his ideas, along with a step by step analysis of how he'd come up with them. And maybe it was a little weird that he was actually happy that someone was suspicious enough for him to actually need to use his Proof He Wasn't Evil Again folder, but he put that down to the satisfaction of having the foresight to prepare one.
But when he turned and handed it to Derek with a flourish, Derek just looked down at it in confusion. "What's this?"
"My Proof I'm Not Evil Again folder?" Stiles said and then had to stop himself from facepalming because, really, that was a name that wasn't supposed to ever be said out loud.
Derek's expression was back to being inscrutable. "Stiles," he said carefully, "I know you're not evil."
"Well, yeah, of course you do." Stiles gestured at the folder. "Because I gave you the proof."
Derek looked thoughtfully down at the closed folder he held for a moment, then turned and dumped it into the garbage can by Stiles' desk.
"Hey!" Stiles said, darting forward to retrieve it. Or trying to at least; Derek grabbed him and turned him to face him before he could get more than a step.
"I know you're not evil because I know you," Derek said, and wow, those were some definite eyebrows of conviction. "And you couldn't be evil again because you were never evil before."
"Pretty sure I was," Stiles shot back, wanting to pull away from Derek's touch, but unsure how that would be taken in this situation. "Do you have amnesia or something? Because there was this whole dark fox spirit incident that-"
"That wasn't you," Derek spoke over him with a glower that brooked no argument.
"How can you be so sure?" Stiles asked, voice getting high with emotion. He broke away from Derek's grip and began to pace, walking in tight circles in the center of his room. "I don't get it. All of you keep acting like I'm completely trustworthy, even after what happened, and I don't see how you can do that. And don't say it's because I'm Stiles because that's not an answer!"
"It is though," Derek said, still standing where Stiles had pulled away from him, only following Stiles' movements with his eyes. "We trust you because you're Stiles."
"God, not you too!" Stiles flopped down on the edge of his bed, running a hand through his hair in something like frustration.
Derek studied him for a long moment. "You sound like you want us not to trust you," he finally ventured.
"No!" Stiles protested instantly. All the extra work he'd done, all the extra steps he'd taken when researching and planning and, and everything... He really really wanted everyone to trust him like before. He paused and took a mental step back, trying to figure out why he was so on edge whenever they did. It didn't take long because the answer was right there; he'd only been avoiding it because of how much it hurt to admit. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to look at Derek as he said in a voice shaky with too much honesty, "I just don't think you should."
Because he'd forced himself to look at Derek, he saw sad understanding flicker over Derek's features before they settled back into his usual stoic expression. Stiles watched as Derek crossed the room to sit beside him on the bed. "What you mean," Derek said, in a tone far gentler than what Stiles was used to hearing from him, "is that you don't trust yourself."
Stiles gave a half shrug, giving in to the urge to drop his gaze and stare at his hands instead of keeping proper eye contact. "It's hard. To admit that. But yeah, I guess. I mean, evil just waltzed right into my freaking soul and took over. How am I ever supposed to trust myself when I know that's possible? It happened once, it could happen again."
"You're right," Derek said, and Stiles jerked his head up to stare at him. "Something like that could target you again. The chances are low, but it's possible."
"You suck at pep talks, you know that?" Stiles asked. He felt... disappointed somehow although Derek wasn't saying anything he didn't already know. He wouldn't have believed it if Derek had denied the possibility, but that didn't mean it wasn't difficult to hear it stated so baldly.
Derek ignored the interjection. "It could happen again. But that's not a secret. We all know that. And we still trust you. Have you asked yourself why?"
Stiles huffed out an unamused laugh. "I've been doing nothing but asking myself why. And asking everyone else why. And getting the most obtuse unhelpful answer over and over. Because I'm Stiles. What the hell does that even mean?"
"It means you're smart and you're stubborn and nothing is going to waltz anywhere without you putting up one hell of a fight."
"Didn't make a difference last time," Stiles muttered, picking at a loose thread in his jeans in an effort to have something to focus on that wasn't the memory of having that Thing drag him down into darkness in spite of his best efforts to hold on.
Derek reached over and slid his fingers under Stiles' chin, gently urging him to look up and meet his gaze. "It did when it mattered. It tried to hide what it was doing, but you figured out something was wrong long before it wanted you to. Smart. And you never stopped fighting, even when it overwhelmed you. Stubborn. And we may have weakened it when we finally got our act together and figured out how to attack it without hurting you, but ultimately you're the one who kicked its ass out."
"I did do that, didn't I?" Stiles gave a small smile at the memory. "Though, let's be realistic here -- there was no way that would have happened without everything you guys did."
"That's what being part of a pack is all about," Derek said. "We're stronger together. You can trust us to have your back when you need it."
"And you... trust me to... be Stiles when you need it?"
That earned him one of Derek's rare smiles. "We always need you to be Stiles."
"Lucky me," Stiles said, meaning it to be sarcastic, but it came out sounding far more heartfelt than that. He let himself slump to the side a little, just enough to bring himself into contact with Derek from shoulder to knee. "I take it back. You're not so bad at giving pep talks after all."
Derek had went unnaturally still when Stiles had slumped against him, but gradually seemed to relax after that. There was definitely something building there between them, something that Stiles wasn't quite ready to put a name to yet, but he was beginning to think that eventually he would be. In the meantime he was just enjoying the quiet closeness and the certainty that Derek believed in him enough to trust him even though he'd gone and got himself possessed by something evil. And that Derek wasn't the only one.
Stiles had a pack. And the pack had a Stiles. Maybe that was all the answer he needed after all.