Chapter Text
If stiles had to pinpoint the day that his life took a turn, he wouldn't say the day he and Scott went into the woods.
Oh no.
The real turning point happened weeks after that, in an alleyway in beacon hills.
It all started after Erica hit him with his own car part.
He startled awake with a groan, the smell of trash making his stomach turn. The side of his face felt sticky, and his fingers came away red when he touched them to his face.
He looked around to see that Erica had thrown him in a dumpster, the high walls and trash surrounding him.
“That bitch.” he muttered as he fought the urge to puke.
He wished that scott had been with Erica instead. Stiles might think that Derek was crazy half the time, but he was reasonably sure that Derek wouldn’t get as violent with him as Erica did.
Stiles slowly pulled himself out of the dumpster, crawling over the piles of garbage. The smell turned his stomach to the point that he vomited, his throat burning. He practically gasped for air as he got out of the dumpster, as dramatic as that felt. After a long moment, he felt strong enough to stagger to his car. Erica hadn't bothered to move the part from where she had dropped it after hitting him, which stiles was grateful for. He didn't want to have to go back into that dumpster.
After Stiles put the piece back in his car, which took longer than expected since Erica yanked it out with no finesse whatsoever, he made his way home.
He ignored the pulsing sensation in his brain, knowing that he at least had a concussion.
He knew he should go to the hospital but also knew he couldn’t afford to saddle his dad with an ER bill.
They had managed to pay off his mother's bills, but it took everything they had.
Stiles couldn’t put his dad through that.
So he went home and hoped everything would resolve with a little rest.
It didn’t.
~~
It was hours later when his life changed forever.
He was sitting on his bed when it happened.
At first, he didn’t think anything of the taste of blood filling his mouth.
He’d accidentally bitten his lip or cheek enough times that he assumed that was the cause.
That was before what happened next.
He felt a stiffening in his limbs, and before he could open his mouth to shout for his dad, he started to shake uncontrollably. Stiles desperately tried to move, but he couldn’t, his lmbs refusing to answer him. He was used to his mind being somewhat out of control, but his body was something that he could always depend on, at least until now. The shaking seemed to last for hours, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. Stiles felt his tongue get caught buy his feteeth a few times, but before he could think to do something about it, everything stopped. Stiles flopped onto his bed, his entire body feeling as though the bones had been sucked out wiht a vacuum. He focused on catching his breath, the air having not come to him easily during the shaking, and it was a long moment before he could move his limbs of his own volition.
As soon as he could control his movement again, he went to his computer to find out what had happened to him.
It was a short Google search before he found his answer.
“No, please, no.” Stiles felt his breath come quicker as he frantically scanned the page.
But there it was. In black and white on his screen.
Stiles pushed his computer aside, bringing a hand to his head.
Epilepsy. According to the internet, it could be caused by a head injury.
Stiles put his hand to where Erica hit him, chuckling at the irony. The girl who got bitten to save herself from epilepsy had caused him to develop it.
Styles shook that thought out of his head as soon as he had it. It was silly for him to get so worked up about this. One possible seizure meant nothing, after all. He wasn;t even sure that he had a seizure, after all. He knew better than anyone the dangers of googling his symptoms. In all likelihood, this was just a side effect of his concussion that would pass with time. It had to. Anything else was too ridiculous an idea to entertain.
Stiles knew he should go to the hospital, especially with the risk that thbis wasn’t a one off, but he decided against it.
With any luck, this would be the last seizure he would have.
~~
The next day, Stiles slowly made his way to school.
He couldn't help but tense up throughout the drive.
What if he had a seizure?
This car was the only thing he had left of his mom.
What if he lost it?
He breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled into the parking lot.
He just had to make it through today.
Maybe it would all be fine.
Maybe the seizure was just a one-time thing.
Maybe he’d be okay.
Stiles made his way to the front of the school, Scott already there waiting for him.
Scott loped to him, a look of concern splashed across his face.
“Dude, where have you been?”
“I know, about last night–” Stiles started to say before Scott cut him off.
“What about last night?” Scott asked before waving it off. “Doesn’t matter. I need you to deliver this note to Allison before class.”
Stiles blinked at him for a long moment.
Scott hadn't even suspected something was wrong when Stiles didn’t show?
Scott looked at him again, and Stiles jumped into action.
“Yeah, got it.” Stiles took the piece of paper.”
“Thanks man!” Scott grinned at him before subtle sniffling Stiles. Or as subtly as Scott did anything, which was not in fact subtle at all. “Are you feeling play? You smell-”
“I’m fine, thanks!” stiles jerked away from Scott and made his way into the school. Stiles loved his best friend, he was his brother in all but sblod, bit he didnt want to burden him with what was going on. If he was lucky, there was nothing to burden scott with whatsoever.
He ran into Allison at her locker and practically shoved the piece of paper at her.
“Thanks, stiles.” She blushed slightly as she read the note, scribbling out something on the paper before handing it back.
“No problem.” Stiles forced a smile as he turned away.
A high laugh pierced the air, causing stiles to flinch from the sound.
He turned towards it to see Erica and Boyd, striding down the hall, arm in arm as they laughed amongst themselves.
Stiles froze as his eyes locked onto Erica.
She turned to him as if she could sense his gaze, a smirk spreading across her lips. Her lipstick was slightly smeared at the corner of her mouth, looking almost like blood. Like the blood that had been running down stiles’ face the night before. Stiles almost flinched at the memory as he stayed locked into place.
She snapped her teeth at him as she walked past him, turning away without a second look.
Stiles forced himself to breathe and hurried to his locker.
With any luck, it was going to be a normal day.
Lydia would ignore him, Jackson would be a dick, and he'd go make a fool out of himself in lacrosse.
Just a typical day.
~~
It was two periods later that Stiles realized how wrong he was.
He was in between classes when the taste of blood filled his mouth.
Thinking quickly, he ran to the nearby janitor closet and locked the door.
The lock had barely turned before he was convulsing on the floor, knocking over a broom and dustpan on the way down.
This one was at least over faster than the other one.
That was pretty much all he could be grateful for.
As he left the closet, he bumped into Jackson.
“Busy meeting with your imaginary girlfriend?” Jackson mocked, laughing as he walked away.
Stiles barely even heard him.
He was too focused on what this all meant.
It was clear that this was going to be something he had to live with now.
And that meant he had to make a plan in order to deal with this. If he was careful and as smart a. e, he could figure out how to keep this hidden so nobody else knew.
So during lunch, stiles made his way to Finstock’s classroom.
“Bilinski,” Coach groaned when he saw him. “Can't you find someone else to torment during lunch?”
“I just came to tell you I’m quitting the team.” Stiles told him, about to leave the room when coach sputtered.
“You’re what?”
“Quitting the team,” Stiles told him. “This shouldn't be a surprise, I suck.”
“I mean, yeah, you do.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“But I never thought you’d quit.” Coach slumped back in his chair. “I just figured you’d ride the bench until graduation. Like a mascot.”
“Beacon Hills doesn't even have a mascot,” Stiles told Coach.
“We could,” Coach told him. “You want the job? The suit is kinda old, but it should smell okay. I think they got all the vomit out of it from that pep rally.”
“I’ll pass,” Stiles said dryly.
“Okay then.” Coach sat there quietly for a moment before Stiles cleared his throat.
“So, are we good?” Stiles asked.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re fine.” Coach still seemed stunned but recovered enough to shout at Stiles as he walked out the door.
“You better not change your mind in two weeks and beg to come back!”
~~
Later that night, Stiles broke the news to his dad.
“You quit?”
“Yep, just decided I needed a change,” Stiles told his dad, shoveling salad into his mouth.
“So what are you going to do instead?” he asked.
Stiles cringed slightly and didn't answer for a while.
“I haven’t quite figured that out,” Stiles admitted, poking his fork into a piece of lettuce.
There was silence for a moment before his dad sighed.
“Kid, do you need to talk to somebody?”
Stiles jerked up at that, eyes wide.
“Why would you think that?” he asked.
“Well, first you and Scott get trapped in a school by a crazed murderer, then you saw a classmate get attacked, and now you're quitting a sport you used to love, and I just don’t get it.” His dad sighed. “I’m sure we could try to find someone who you could talk to about all this.”
“I don’t need to talk to someone.” Stiles tried to tell him.
“Then at least talk to me.” His dad said. “Please, is there anything going on?”
Stiles stopped at that.
He wished he could tell his dad.
He wished he could tell his dad everything that had happened since he and Scott went out in the woods that night.
But even if his dad believed him, which was unlikely, how could he do that to his dad?
The man worked long hours to take care of his son and keep his town safe.
How could stiles take that away from him?
No.
He couldn't do that.
He wouldn’t.
Stiles wasn’t going to put that on his dad.
His dad did everything for him. Taking care of this was the one thing he could do.
So stiles opened his mouth, and he lied.
“I’m fine, dad.” He said, every word feeling like a blow to the gut. “I’m just a little stressed about school, and I need to focus on my studies.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep.” Stiles forced a smile. “Everything is going to be fine.”
His dad shrugged, and the room was silent for a minute before his dad asked, “In that case, can we please have cheeseburgers for dinner next time?”
Stiles groaned, and his dad laughed.
For a brief second, everything felt like it was going to go back to normal.
~~
It wasn’t.
Stiles had been having at least one seizure every other day for the past two weeks.
Most of them were small, like the one he had that first night, but he also had seizures that were so bad that he passed out.
He knew he should have told someone.
He knew it was stupid of him to keep this to himself.
But he also knew his dad couldn’t afford to pay for the epilepsy medication.
Their health insurance wasn't the best, and Stiles had overheard enough whispered conversations between his dad and the bank to know that they needed every spare penny.
His dad was already worried about sending stiles to college, even though stiles told him he was going to work his butt off to get a scholarship.
Stiles couldn't put this on his dad.
And even if they won the lottery tomorrow, Stiles had no idea what he was going to tell his dad about how he was hit on the head.
Not like he could say, “a werewolf hit me over the head with a part from my jeep to keep me from stopping her alpha from biting someone because we already have two many werewolves running around beacon hills without any more being made.”
Yeah, that would go over well.
No problem with any of that.
Forget the hospital, he’d be locked up in Eichen House before dinner.
Yet another bill his dad couldn’t afford.
So he did what he could to hide it.
He started keeping a change of clothes in his bag at all times.
After he wet himself during his first massive seizure, Stiles wasn’t taking any chances.
Scott didn’t even notice, choosing to instead complain about Allison’s dad keeping them apart.
He never even questioned Stiles not showing up at practice.
Stiles wasn’t even sure if Scott had noticed if he quit the team.
No one else had.
Scott had stopped paying attention to Stiles right around the time that he made the first line, and no one else on the team had ever cared enough to pay attention in the first place.
After a while, stiles got used to his new life.
He got used to the taste of blood in his mouth, both from the aura that came before the seizure and the biting of his tongue that came during it.
He did his best to take care of himself.
He had to.
Nobody else needed to know.
So, of course, someone else found out.