Chapter Text
“I wish I never had you.”
They used to be happy, the three of them. A happy little family. There was John, the father, Claudia, the mother, and Stiles, the child.
“You should have never been born.”
But then John left. And when he did, other things came in. Dark, shadowy things, things with extra eyes and mouths and teeth. Things that scarred Claudia and Stiles. Things that made it hard for Claudia to hold down a job, or even care for her son.
Stiles would never forget the feeling of his mothers hands on his throat, as her frail body hovered over him, desperately trying to choke the little life out of him. The tears on her face, the strange look in her eyes.
She had never wanted to hurt him, only to keep him safe, and when she felt that she could no longer do that she wanted to save him from suffering the way that she had. But thankfully, she couldn't.
“Stiles… im so sorry.”
The next day Stiles found her body. He never knew why she said what she said, or did what she did. At his young age, all he could think was that it was somehow his fault.
****************
While not perfect in any way, his parents had loved him at least. The rest of his family did not. He was passed around, from relative to relative, with each rejecting him eventually. He was to quiet, too creepy. He was always looking at empty spaces, with this terrified look. No one wanted to deal with him.
Some were nice about it, smiling while they explained he would go to another family member, while others told him what a burden he had been, how much harder their lives were with him around. All of them only made Stiles feel worse.
When relatives were quickly exhausted, foster care was next, but still, no one would keep him. Even in families full of children with their issues, no one seemed to know, or often want, to help him.
Stiles, never forgetting his mothers words, never believed that he deserved help either. In a short two years, at the age of 10, Stiles decided he didn't want to burden another person. He was convinced it was selfish of him to even live like this.
So he decided not to.
In two days he would be moved to another foster home. He had more notice this time, although his foster mother had asked that he have all his things packed tonight, to make sure he “didn't keep his loving new family waiting.”
He knew what she really meant. That even a minute more with him than she had to have was to much. So really, he was doing her a favor.
It wasn’t hard to get to the school rooftop that night. He had asked to stay late to clean out his locker, and no one at “home” would think it weird of him to take so long to do so. They simply didn't want him there.
There were creatures there, watching him as he took of his shoes, and carefully tied his laces together. As always he tried to ignore them, and as always he failed.
“Jump! Jump! Jump!”
“JUMMMMP!”
Ju-Ju-JU-mmMMP!”
Their voices echoed over the rooftop.
At least I can make someone happy, Stiles thought to himself.
But then, just before he could, he felt something wrap around his arm, and pull him away from the ledge. He fell to the ground, and as he stood up, he realized there was a vine or root wrapped around his arm. There were thorns on it, but they didn't seem to hurt him.
Looking around, he realized the creatures were gone, but a new creature took their place. It looked like a tall man in a dark cloak, but there was no skin on his face, just a wolf-like skull with horns coming out of it. The two red dots in its otherwise empty eyes were focused on Stiles.
“A life is a rather valuable thing,” It said in a voice that was surprisingly deep, yet gentle. “If you plan to throw yours way so casually, then I will take it, and put it to better use.
Thorn covered vines began to surround the two of them as he spoke, and Stiles suddenly felt tired, as though he hasn't slept in years. He closed his eyes, and despite his fears he fell asleep.
********
The next two years of Stiles’ life were strange, to say the least.Elias, the strange cloaked man, had taken Stiles to his home, in the english countryside, far from Stiles’ home county.
“You will be my apprentice,” Was all Elias said for the first month Stiles lived with them.
Elias wasn’t cruel, at least in Stiles’ eyes, but he wasn’t particularly warm or kind either. There were always food and clothes for Stiles, although he rarely ate. He was still neglected, but only emotionally, and Elias never spoke to him the way the others had.
He wasn’t allowed to leave front yard of their home, but the dark spirits never came into the house, and so Stiles never wanted to leave it anyway.
There were a lot of books. Elias was always bringing Stiles new books to read, each one about different kinds of neighbors, as they preferred to be called.
“Faerie and Fae fit some, and many will accept that title, but others do not feel it fits them, and will be insulted. Which you must never do to them.”
Elias’ red eyes somehow seemed darker and more serious when he said that.
Initially, the books were in Stiles native language, but Elias quickly changed them to English books, and Stiles now had to translate the words with a language dictionary Elias had provided.
“I will also begin speaking to you in English,” he said as he handed Stiles the book. “It is the local language, and I fear the natives will look down upon you, and me as your teacher, if you don’t learn it. Its a bit of a poorly constructed language, especially compared to yours, but im sure you will learn it eventually, your very intelligent for your age.”
It was a small complement, and probably not the first Stiles had ever received, but the way it had made him feel was certainly new to Stiles. He wholeheartedly embraced English after that, asking Elias to speak it as much as possible so he could learn. Of course learning English while living with Elias, who often spoke in outdated, or even nonexistent phrases would be another challenge for Stiles to overcome.
Over the next two years Stiles would learn to mix potions, communicate with the neighbors who lived in Elais home, and even perform magic with them. He learned to create fire with the salamander who lived in Elias fireplace, and to clean the house using the wind magic of the local fairies.
He met Elias friends. There was Angelica, a blacksmith who came to the house to give Stiles the magic tools Elais had purchased for him. A knife, a cloak, and an enchanted satchel that only Stiles could open. She offered to take Stiles into town sometime, but Elias refused.
There was Lindell, a friend who visited once who said he watched over Dragons. He wanted Stiles to come visit them, but Elias refused, and even magically evicted Lindell when he wouldn't drop the subject. Stiles was sad, because he seemed nice, and Elias had seemed to welcome him before that.
Then there was Simon, the priest. Elias seemed to like him less than the others, and had even ordered Stiles to hide from him. Of course Stiles had the hiding skills of a small child, and was soon noticed. Simon seemed friendly enough, and Elias never yelled at Stiles for being seen.
Simon would continue to come, and would often ask to speak to Elias alone.
“You can’t keep him in here like this. He needs to meet people, live among humans,” Is what Simon often said.
“Humans hurt him in a way I do not understand,” Was Elias' response once. “I may not be able to help him, but they will not do it again.”
“No, but you're hurting him in other ways. You don’t understand what he needs. What do you do when he cries?”
Elias thought for a moment before answering.
“I search his body thoroughly for any injuries. For example, a few days ago he burned himself creating a sleeping potion. So I used magic to heal him. Although,” He said, pausing for another moment,” Sometimes he cries but has no injury to find. In that case I do nothing, as there is nothing that can be done.”
Simone sighed, wondering how this creature could live so long, and be so fascinated by humans, yet know so little about them.
“That means hes sad, he needs someone to talk to about his problems. He needs therapy, a family, a real home, not just some house that looks nice but is devoid of love.”
“Sad…love… these human words are still so unusual to me. Does he truly feel these things, need these things?”
“Yes!”
Elias went quiet yet again.
“He won’t find them in the village… Because the skin I wear and the voice I speak when i see them appears native to them, they tolerate me, but they will never accept Stiles who is clearly foreign.”
“I have tried to work on that… but you’re right, he needs to go somewhere else, and you need to stay away from him. It’s the only way he can be happy.”
*****
And so, after two short years as Elias’ apprentice, Stiles would again be sent away.
“You can’t please! You said you would put my life to better use! Now your done with me too?!”
“Tears… but I see no injury,” was all Elias said in response.
“Im sending you to a happy home, to someone who will give you what I can’t, who can give you the things I don’t realize you need.”
“No,” Stiles screamed, “Your sending me away like everyone else! Ive heard it before. We can’t help you but they can. You’ll like this family better. Its always about getting rid of me.”
“I see,” Elias said. He misunderstood the cruelty of those past guardians as some strange human wisdom and said, “Then I too, must be rid of you. You must not return to me then, although the task of finding me will make that impossible anyway.”
He then tied a ribbon around Stiles’ arm.
“Red strings of fate, where love and hope do meet. Carry a lost soul where it shall be safe. In gentle hands and kind embrace, where thistles are soft and thorns do not sting…”
As Elias chant continued, and thorns circled Stiles just as they had two years ago, all Stiles could think about was what he had done to cause this. What spell or potion he failed that convinced this man to give up on him.
He tried, desperately to come up with something to say to change Elias’ mind, some hidden talent that would convince him Stiles still had potential.
But instead, just like before, he fell asleep.