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Stiles had learned to hunt in the most backasswards way possible. He had never intended to be a hunter. In fact, there was a time in his life when that was the worst thing he could have imagined being, but there weren’t many other options for teenage runaways with his particular set of skills.
Stiles’s story started like most hunters’ stories; with death. He was eleven years old when both his parents were killed.
His father had been the Sheriff of Beacon Hills and had been drawn into an alliance with the local werewolf pack. They kept to themselves for the most part, but when a rival pack started gunning for them, they had run out of options. The humans in town would be in danger too so they decided it was high time they be warned. Their reasoning was that the Sheriff would be better prepared to protect his family and the town if he were better informed.
They were wrong, of course. Stiles’s parents were dead the moment they allied themselves with the Hale pack, they just didn’t know it yet. The rival pack saw the Hales’ new human allies as the perfect opportunity to send a message.
Stiles didn’t like to think about the state his parents were in when they were found. He liked to imagine they both died quick and painlessly in their sleep. The truth was too much to wrap his head around. It seemed werewolves didn’t do subtle.
Stiles also didn’t like to think about how he could have easily been another pile of human remains right along with them, but for the fact that he’d been staying at his friend Scott’s house that night.
Stiles was taken in by the Hale family after that. They felt that he was their responsibility since they had been indirectly responsible for his parents’ deaths. He didn’t disagree with them, but he didn’t blame them either.
The fact was they were probably the only people that could protect him now. He knew now that people died. Anyone could die. He could die. He could die horribly and painfully. The panic attacks and nightmares were overwhelming at first, but his new family taught him the best way to control his fear was to prepare himself and turn his fear into vigilance.
So Stiles started training with the rest of them. The Hale family was large and they trained the human members of their family right along with the werewolves. They were still in some kind of territory war with the rival pack so they couldn’t afford to be lax. There were no “weak links” in this chain, werewolf or otherwise.
The other pack had made a mistake when they killed the Stilinskis. Any thoughts the Hale pack might have had about mercy were long gone. Not a single member of the rival pack survived by the time they were done with them.
Even with one threat gone, there was always the possibility of another. A large pack like the Hales’ drew attention from more than just werewolves. Stiles was taught about the various other supernatural beasties hiding just below the surface and he learned how each of them could be killed.
He learned survival skills from Uncle Peter, tracking from Mrs. Hale (or Mama Hale as everyone called her), hand to hand combat from Derek, and weapons training with Mr. Hale (who was also human, like Stiles). Stiles had always had trouble focusing, but the Hales were good teachers and he was driven by the memory of his parents’ deaths. He was flourishing under the Hale pack’s tutelage.
There was still more he wanted to learn, however. Stiles had a healthy (maybe even too healthy) sense of curiosity. He devoured book after book of supernatural lore, bestiaries, and finally grimoires. He knew of a few simple spells that could be used against one creature or another, but it wasn’t enough.
The Hales encouraged his interest in magic and had a friend of theirs, Alan Deaton, come over every week to teach Stiles what he could. It turned out that he could teach Stiles quite a lot. Stiles, apparently, had a strong natural talent for magic. He had the instinct and power to take the basic theories Deaton taught him and manipulate them to create something new.
There were a few peaceful years after the rival pack had been taken out. Stiles would always miss his parents, but he felt like he was a part of the Hale family now and it was easier to deal with the pain when you weren’t alone.
There were threats, but it was never anything the pack couldn’t handle. A family of hunters, the Argents, moved to town, but once they were sure it hadn’t been the Hales that killed the Stilinskis they left well enough alone and stuck to their code.
Meanwhile, Stiles went to school, studied magic, and lusted after Derek Hale. He and Derek had gotten pretty close over the years. Derek was a couple years older than Stiles, but for all his eye rolling and grousing, he didn’t seem to mind Stiles forever trailing behind him. The family would make good natured jokes about Derek’s one-man fan club, but Stiles was incapable of being embarrassed about it.
As long as Derek was willing to accept Stiles’s blatant crush, he didn’t really care who knew. He came out as being bisexual when he was only twelve years old, but it was so far from a big deal that he hardly remembered it. Uncle Peter was gay and the family accepted and loved him so Stiles never doubted the fact that he would be accepted as well. He could give a fuck less what the kids at school thought (which as it turned out, no one there seemed to care much either).
Stiles thought he had accepted the fact that Derek would never be interested in him. Derek was his friend; almost his brother. As long as they had that, Stiles wasn’t going to let himself pine. Of course, Kate Argent changed all that in a hurry when Stiles was fifteen.
Stiles didn’t actually know that she was the reason, at the time. All he knew was that Derek suddenly didn’t have time for him. He would come home late and try to hide the hickeys under his collar. His parents grilled him about what he was doing out so late and who was marking up his neck, but he just told them it was some girl from school and that it wasn’t a big deal.
Stiles knew it was a lie. As far as he noticed, Derek didn’t talk to any of the girls at school (and if there was one person who would have noticed, it was Stiles). He tried following him one time, but for all his training Stiles wasn’t a match for Derek’s keen werewolf senses.
“Why the fuck are you following me, Stiles?” Derek growled, shoving Stiles into the rough brick of the 7-Eleven. Stiles was stunned silent for a moment. He and Derek had fought plenty of times, Derek was the one that taught him to fight after all, but Derek had never once hurt him out of anger.
“I just want to know what’s going on with you! You’re not…you’re not acting like yourself.” Stiles said, wrestling out Derek’s grip.
“Nothing’s going on with me, Stiles. You need to mind your own business. Go home.” Derek said, taking a step back like he was giving Stiles space to leave. Stiles didn’t budge.
“You are my business, Derek!”
“No Stiles, I’m really not. I’m not and I’m never going to be, do you understand me? I put up with you following me around for a long time, but it’s getting pathetic!” Derek growled and Stiles’ stomach dropped. He knew Derek didn’t want him, but it was one thing to know it and another thing to hear it out loud. Not only did Derek not want him, but he thought he was pathetic.
Derek’s anger faded the moment the words came out of his mouth and it looked like he might even apologize, but it was too late. Stiles knew what Derek really thought of him now. There wasn’t anything else to say.
“Fuck you, Derek.” Stiles said, his voice barely above a whisper. He turned and walked away without looking back. It was a few moments before he heard Derek finally start walking in the other direction.
He didn’t walk home. Instead, he headed to his best friend Scott’s house. He knew if he went home they’d smell the sadness all over him and they’d want to know what happened. Laura would pull the big sister card and grill him until he spilled his guts and he just didn’t have it in him to talk about it right then. Instead he put on his best happy voice and asked Mama Hale if he could stay at Scott’s since it was a Friday. She told him to come home after breakfast so she could drive him to Deaton’s and he said goodbye and hung up before she realized something was off with him.
That night he was playing a video game with Scott, trying his best to forget what a jerk-ass Derek was, when Scott’s mom came upstairs to talk to him. Stiles knew that look. She looked pale and her eyes were wet. She was talking to Stiles like he might shatter into a million pieces if she wasn’t careful. He’d already had this talk once in his life, when Mama Hale explained to him what happened to his parents.
Stiles sat there calmly as Melissa tried to explain to him what had happened. He wasn’t quite absorbing it. Instead he thought about how hard it must be for Melissa to tell him these things. He felt completely detached from the situation, like he was watching a very sad movie rather than experiencing it.
Melissa didn’t want to let him go to the house, but he had to see it for himself. She tried to get him to go to sleep, told him to wait for the morning, that it wasn’t safe. Stiles stayed calm, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He was going to go home whether she let him or not. She finally agreed to take him to the house, but her hands were shaking and he knew that despite her being an adult and a mother, she really didn’t know how to deal with the situation any better than he did.
They could see a thick cloud of smoke and a sickly orange glow on the horizon the moment they got outside. Stiles was looking at the evidence showing that what Melissa had said was true, but he still didn’t quite believe it. The fire could be smaller than she had thought, maybe. Maybe it wasn’t even his house. There might have been a mistake. They might have called the wrong person, maybe.
The closer they got to the Beacon Hills Preserve, the less likely it was that there was a mistake. The fire was still roaring high when they got there, despite the best efforts of the Beacon Hills Fire Department. Stiles instinctively stepped forward, but Melissa held him tight. He just wanted to go home, but that was his home. That was the only home he had and it was gone. That was when he saw Derek. He was standing there staring up at the flames, his eyes the size of saucers. Stiles yanked away from Melissa and rushed over to him.
“Where are they, Derek? Is everyone… where are they?” Stiles asked, frantic now in the face of the fire.
“Stiles… there… there isn’t anyone. Uncle Peter’s in the hospital… it didn’t look good… didn’t look like him.” Derek said, his voice seemed so far away. He was looking right through Stiles, staring into the fire like he couldn’t look anywhere else.
“Shut up, Derek! There’s gotta be… someone’s okay right? Someone’s gotta be okay! Where the hell- where are we supposed to go?” Stiles screamed at him and shook him by the shoulders, but Derek didn’t react. He just kept staring up at the flames. Stiles punched him in the face, he needed Derek to look at him, he needed Derek to look anywhere but that fire, but he just kept staring even when the tears started falling. Stiles kept punching him, but Derek just held him, his arms trapped at his sides, and looked past Stiles into the fire.
Stiles wondered how many people had managed to lose two entire families in their lifetimes. He figured he’d had two tries and managed to fuck them both up. There couldn’t be anything else for him after that. He didn’t have it in him to start over a third time. He’d lost everything two times in his life and he wasn’t even sixteen yet.
He was supposed to have a big birthday party. They were going to throw him a sweet sixteen. Uncle Peter had made a joke about getting Derek to jump out of a cake that made Mama Hale glare at him and punch him in the arm. There wouldn’t be any birthday cake now. He wouldn’t hear anymore of Uncle Peter’s tasteless jokes or hear Mama Hale whistle that loud high pitched whistle that she used to shut everyone up when the kids got too rowdy. Laura wouldn’t be there to boss him around, there wasn’t going to be anymore “Human Solidarity” jokes between him and Papa Hale. The kids… even the kids.
Stiles heard someone screaming and he thought to himself that he wished they’d just shut up when he realized it was him. He was screaming into Derek’s shirt and Derek was holding on to him so tight that he might have bruised ribs by the time he let go.
Stiles and Derek stayed with the McCalls after that. Stiles had always assumed that they would stick together. They were all they had now. That was the only thing that kept him together for the next couple months. Derek was still here. He had to take care of Derek and Derek would take care of him.
Derek turned eighteen two months before Stiles would turn sixteen. He hadn’t expected things to change right away. Derek was still in school so he’d assumed they’d stay with the McCalls until he graduated. He didn’t expect Derek to be waiting for him that morning with his bags packed.
“Are we leaving? You should have told me! I would have packed. I haven’t even said bye to Scott yet!” Stiles said, looking incredulously from Derek to the duffle bag he was carrying.
“Stiles-“ Derek started, but Stiles cut him off. “Hold on, I’ll get my stuff. Where are we going anyway?” Stiles shouted as he ran up the stairs. He would be sad to leave the McCalls, but he knew this was temporary. Derek was his family now.
“STILES! Stop it, please. Come down here.” Derek shouted and Stiles froze on the steps. He turned around and walked down the stairs, bracing himself without even knowing why he was doing it yet.
“Listen Stiles, you can’t come with me. You… you still have school and I don’t even have a steady job yet. You have to understand, ok? I can’t. I can’t take care of you. I can’t take care of anyone.” Derek said, his voice fading so much towards the end that he may have been talking to himself more than Stiles.
“You’re kidding right? This is a fucking joke, right?” Stiles said, trying to laugh. Jokes were supposed to be funny. He should be laughing.
“Stiles, please. Don’t make this harder, ok? You’re old enough to understand by now. I’m only a couple of years older than you. It’s better if you stay here. You have to understand that!” Derek said. Stiles knew it for what it was. Derek was pleading with him to validate the excuses he’d made for himself.
“Understand what, Derek? Understand that I will lose every person I’ve ever loved? Understand that I’m completely fucking alone now? You’re a fucking coward! You think you can just run away and that will make it all better? Nothing’s ever going to be better. Not for you and not for me. I don’t care if I have to find a fucking job, I’ll get two! I’ll keep going to school too if you want. Just tell me what to do!” Stiles had gone from righteous anger to desperate pleading within a few sentences and as the tears threatened to fall from his eyes he wondered how he’d gotten there so fast.
“Stiles, I just can’t. I’m sorry. I just can’t. You have to believe me. It’s better for you without me.” Derek said. He went to put his hand on Stiles’s shoulder, but Stiles slapped it away and wiped his eyes instead. He didn’t look up as Derek left, didn’t get up and watch his car fade into the distance the way he wanted to. He just sat on the stairs and stared at the carpet, willing himself to not cry. He was almost sixteen years old for fuck’s sake. He was done with crying.
Melissa came home from work that evening to find Stiles still sitting on the stairs. His eyes had been dry for hours by then, but he just hadn’t found a reason to move yet. Scott had been gone for the day and Stiles was by himself. There wasn’t much else for him to do but sit and think… and plan.
“Hey, where’s Derek? I thought you two would be out celebrating?” Melissa asked, surprised to see the Camaro gone and Stiles still sitting there. Stiles had forgotten that it was Derek’s birthday in all the drama of him leaving. He hadn’t even said “Happy birthday” to him.
“He’s gone.” Stiles said.
“Well do you know when he’ll be back? We can pick up a cake!” Melissa said. God, Stiles wished she would stop. He wished she could just understand without him having to say it.
“No. No cake. No Derek. He’s gone.” Stiles said, both unwilling and unable to put it any clearer. He couldn’t say any more than that. He couldn’t tell her that Derek had abandoned him like everyone else. The only difference being that Derek was the first to do it on purpose. He was the first and only one to make the choice to abandon Stiles and didn’t that just cut like a bitch.
“Oh sweetie. I had no idea he was going to do that. Are you sure?” Melissa asked. Stiles didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help shooting her a look of pure venom at that moment. He tried to settle his face into an expression a little more apologetic, but it was no use.
“I’ll be upstairs.” Stiles said quietly. He couldn’t get away from Melissa fast enough.
Stiles began to regret his hasty decision almost immediately when he looked around the former guest room he and Derek had shared. There empty spaces that had once been filled by Derek stood out in sharp contrast with the rest of the messy room. Stiles started cleaning the room in an attempt to camouflage Derek’s absence. By the time he was done he realized he hadn’t so much cleaned as packed.
Stiles realized he’d already made his decision. He wasn’t staying either. Derek could go to hell for all he cared. There was nothing left here for him, Derek should have realized that he wouldn’t stick around. For now he’d have to be patient though. He unpacked just enough to not look suspicious and began planning.
He decided that the smartest thing to do would be to wait until after his sixteenth birthday and after he got his driver’s license. The insurance money and all the Hales’ assets had been divided between Stiles and Derek so Stiles would be able to buy himself a car when the time came. Getting ahold of the rest of the money before he was eighteen would be a challenge, but not impossible. Stiles was nothing if not resourceful and clever.
Stiles did his best to act normal in those last few months; sad, but reasonably normal. He went to school, played video games with Scott, and played lacrosse. He let Melissa plan his birthday party and hunted through used car lots with the excitement of any teenager getting his first car.
Meanwhile he also made plans, worked on getting control of his money, and gathered up things he’d need on the road. He also continued working with Deaton on his magic with a renewed fervor, but if the man noticed anything something was off about Stiles he didn’t point it out.
Stiles was ready to leave the moment he had his driver’s license in his hot little hands. He had been ready to go for at least a week. He’d bought himself a car, a baby blue jeep, and he’d had everything he needed packed in a bag tucked under his bed.
Late that next night when Melissa was at work and Scott was sleeping, Stiles loaded up his jeep and left a note on the table. The note apologized for leaving and explained that he’d gotten wind of where Derek was and that he had to go see him. He told them he’d be back in two weeks and to please not worry, he’d check in every day. His hope was to prevent Melissa from reporting him missing for as long as possible. Hopefully long enough for him to get good and far away and scrounge up a decent fake id.
The truth was, he’d thought long and hard about looking for Derek. It was almost instinct for him to seek him out as pack, as family, despite the fact that he was neither a blood relation nor a werewolf. Those things had never mattered before and they certainly didn’t now. Then he tried to imagine what he might say to Derek when he did find him and he got so angry he nearly broke his hand punching the door of his jeep.
After that he apologized profusely to the jeep and didn’t let himself entertain the thought of finding Derek again. Instead he would go out and do the only thing he was truly prepared to do.
He would hunt. He would hunt for the sake of every person who’d had to live through the shit he had. The things he didn’t know about what had happened to his family could fill a book, but there were plenty of other people that needed his help.
It turned out to be true that ignorance was bliss. When Stiles finally did find out what happened to the Hales, and the part Derek had played in their destruction, he would have given anything to forget. He threw himself into hunting with renewed fervor and for awhile he wasn't sure he would have let Derek live had he found him. Luckily he never had the chance to find out.
Derek remained lost to him, but that was probably for the best. Stiles worked better when he had nothing left to lose. He became something more than a hunter wielding a weapons.
Stiles was the weapon.