Chapter Text
Tugging on his bike chain, making sure the lock looped around the links was secured, the teen stood up with some extra effort and turned to face his new school with an apprehensive look. The students bustled around him, not even noticing the new face on campus, completely ignoring him and his meager existence and if Stiles was being honest with himself he knew he would be happy to remain a shadow in the background. But he was being honest with himself today and a part of him did want to be noticed, wanted to be seen, heard; he just wanted someone to notice him. His honey glazed eyes tracked a student who was running towards him, a happy face and an arm raised in the air waving while calling out a friendly hello, and as he opened him mouth with a shy smile the student brushed past him, harshly knocking shoulders to dart behind him and meet up with a group of guys gathered around a sports car.
Who was he kidding? This school, just like every other school he’d been to, was going to be exactly the same and he had only until lunch to prepare himself for the rest of the student body to figure out how much of a freak he really was and for the impending dark locker time, dumpster dives and toilet swirly. All he had to do was remind himself that this was his senior year, that this was it and that in just under nine months he would turn eighteen and he would be free. The idea of freedom left a clean taste in his mouth, like a cold glass of water. All he had to do was wait it out and pray that these next few months wouldn’t be the end of him.
Adjusting the straps on his back pack, a ratty old thing he found left behind at a park—and for good reason too as the seams were coming apart and the straps were withered away to almost nothing—Stiles took a calming breath in and made his way up the front steps towards the front door with purposeful strides. Shoulders back, chest slightly out, and head held high he wasn’t about to show any fear to these strangers even if he was scared beyond belief. Standing inside Beacon Hills High School he glanced around the foyer when he realized one thing, realized this wasn’t his old school and the school’s office wasn’t right by the main doors and that he had absolutely no idea where to start looking. Reaching up to feel the straps of his back pack under his fingers, he pulled to hike his sack up higher on his shoulders and stood awkwardly in the center of the foyer as the rest of his classmates started filing in to head towards their first class.
The first bell rang and Stiles realized that he was the only one standing near the front doors, awkwardly glancing around in hopes that he would recognize a sign that would point him in the direction of the school office so he could pick up his class schedule, locker assignment, and hopefully find someone to show him around the maze that was Beacon Hills. Just as he was about to give up and just wander aimlessly around the halls until a teacher found him or he actually found the office, the front doors burst open behind him with a loud bang and two students stumbled through the doors breathing hard. Both took a moment to take a breather, glancing at each other with mischievous smiles on their faces before they broke out laughing. Frozen stiff, his feet firmly rooted in the ground, Stiles wished he could just blend in and pray that the two boys wouldn’t notice him.
“Dude, we have got to stop sleeping in.” One boy panted harshly, his wavy sandy blonde hair bouncing with the natural flow of gravity as he bobbed his head. “Project or not, if mom get’s another call from the school about me skipping I’m so dead.”
The other boy forced himself to stand up, his head dropped back so he could force some calming breaths into his lungs. His shaggy mop of chocolate hair, slicked with sweat at the roots, flopped back with the force of his head dropping back. “Don’t worry; I’ll cover for you, Isaac. We should—“straightening his posture, the dark haired teens eyes locked on Stiles with a strange expression. “Hi?”
The other teen with him, Isaac, turned around to stare at Stiles with the same sort of confused expression. He tipped his head to the side and starred at Stiles with a questioning look on his face. His features were the first to smooth over, the other boy still rigid behind him as Isaac took a step forward with a slight smile tugging on his face. Holding his hand out, his face broke out into a friendly smile that made Stiles knees weak. “You must be new. I’m Isaac, and this is Scott.” Stiles tentatively reached out to touch palms with the other boy before jerking his hand back to curl around his back pack straps like Isaac’s touch burned his skin. Isaac’s frown returned, his mouth tugging downward and his eyes crinkling around the edges.
“Hi,” he replied curtly. Taking a small step back to put some distance between himself and Isaac, Stiles feet caught between his ankles forcing him to tumble and fall to the ground in a graceless heap. Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to keep from crying out from the pain radiating along his sides, he drew in on himself as the two teens surrounded him to gently pull him back up, brush him off and right his posture.
“Easy there, buddy, we don’t bite.” Scott’s hands were warm on his shoulders and Isaac’s were a welcomed weight in his hands, both offering steady support in keeping Stiles balanced.
“Hey, you don’t look so good.” Isaac’s eyes caught Scott’s over Stiles head, the two teen’s holding a silent conversation that made Stiles squirm in their grasp. Tugging free, he took a hasty few steps back and offered a meek smile.
“Sorry, I’m not very graceful. Would either of you two happen to know where the school office is?” Jumping out of his skin when the second bell rang, the apparent tardy bell as the other two teens groaned loudly, Stiles glanced around a few more times and realized that they were the only ones in the halls still. These two boys weren’t terribly large like some students he’d seen, but he was so scrawny and even just one of them could beat him up easily and with no teachers around there really wasn’t anyone to stop them if they wanted to harm him.
“We’ll take you; we have to get tardy passes anyways.” Isaac’s hand came down to rest on Stiles shoulder to steer him into the opposite direction of the foyer, the other teen followed behind them. Stiles tried not to jump when Isaac touched him. Why were these two being so nice to him? How could they not see?
“Sorry,” he mumbled. Better to apologize than receive the repercussions.
“For what?” Isaac prodded when the smaller teen didn’t offer up an explanation.
“Making you guys late.”
“That was my fault,” Scott piped up from behind. “We were up late working on a project last night and I couldn’t wake myself up this morning.”
“Try any morning, this guy sleeps like a dead weight and snores louder than a bear.” Isaac laughed as they rounded a corner, the sign at the end of the hall indicating the school office, an immediately identifiable marking putting the brunette at ease that these two were actually helping him and not leading him out back to beat him up. “It’s amazing he actually shows up at all.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Scott huffed loudly as he stepped around the two and pushed the door open to the office where the sounds of phones ringing, a student speaking into a microphone discussing the morning announcements, and the principal in his office screaming at a poor student for their insubordination lifted to their ears. “Good morning, Mrs. G, you’re looking lovely this morning.” Leaning against the counter Scott flirtatiously smiled down at the woman in her forties who in return was starring back up at him over the brim of her wire frame glasses.
“Good morning, Mr. McCall.” Mrs. Gardner responded in an annoyed manner, her hands absently reaching for the tardy slips near her keyboard. “Late as usual I see.”
“No, actually we found a new student and decided to show him around. You can’t reprimand us for trying to help out and be nice, can you?” Mrs. Gardner arched an eyebrow and glanced behind Scott to leer at Isaac and the boy beside him. “We’ve been expecting you, Mr. Stilinski.”
“Hi,” he softly greeted while his ducked in submission. Taking a small step behind Isaac, Stiles eyes darted around the office noting all the exits and calculating his chances of just being able to run out of the building and begging to be placed into home schooling just once more.
Mrs. Gardner handed a sheet of paper to Scott and nodded towards the teen behind him and went back to her work on the computer, ticking away at her keyboard. Scott glanced down at the sheet and smiled to himself seeing that the Stilinski kid had his first block with both he and Isaac in Chemistry, and then his second block was with Isaac in Calculus. The rest of his day was taken up by Government and then English. “Dude, you have one messed up schedule. Everything is all academic, no fun classes.”
Shrugging, Stiles reached out and took the sheet from the taller boy and glanced over it noting his locker number and the classes the school had assigned for him. At least his second semester looked a little more promising with the application of Physics, Anatomy, Physical Education, and a Criminology course. He just hoped that he wasn’t too far behind in his classes because failing wasn’t an option for him, anything lower than an “A” was greatly frowned upon at his house. Stiles felt Isaac lean over his shoulder to glance over his class sheet.
“We’ll take you to Chem.” Stiles hated the false sense of security that the other boys smile made him feel, even if he appeared to be one of the nice kids Stiles was all too familiar with how cruel others could be and that soon Isaac would be just like the rest of the student body, the rest of the people in Stiles’ life, and learn what a worthless piece of shit he really was. “It looks like you got the empty locker next to Lydia, lucky you.”
Mrs. Gardner finished filling out the late passes and handed the three slips to Scott with an annoyed smile on her face. “You three are already late, get to class.”
Isaac ushered Stiles out of the office door as Scott turned to wave goodbye to the office secretary. “See you tomorrow Mrs. G?”
Stiles heard the faint “I hope not.” He laughed a little bit. He hoped these two wouldn’t turn out to be like everyone else as he was starting to actually come to like them as people, as… he dare not think the word. Walking silently between Isaac and Scott, who were chatting wildly about some after school practice and only when he realized that they had gotten quiet was when he realized they started talking to him. “What?”
“You play, Space Cadet?” Scott teased with a smile on his face.
“Scott,” Isaac reprimanded with a hearty glare.
“Play what?” Stiles prodded, hoping they wouldn’t become annoyed with him for tuning them out.
“Lacrosse, it’s the favored sport here at Beacon Hills since over the last six years we’ve made state champions.” Scott playfully knocked shoulders with Stiles, making the small boy falter in his steps. Isaac’s hand shot out to steady him. “You play?” Scott ducked his head in apology.
Stiles shook his head. “I’m not allow—I’m not any good at sports. I have zero hand-eye coordination and I am really clumsy.” Scott muttered louder than he meant to and Stiles heard every word.
Yeah, not very graceful.
Isaac shot a glare at the other boy. “So what sort of clubs were you involved in at your other school if you didn’t play sports?”
Stiles kept his eyes trained forwards, not permitting himself to look down and show anymore weakness of fear to these two teens. Opting for a half truth, not admitting that he wasn’t allowed to participate in school activities, he took a steady breath in before speaking. “I like to stay focused in my studies.” Isaac tipped his head again in confusion. Scott slowly nodded like he didn’t believe him. How could they know he was lying?
Not even bothering to knock on the classroom door before thrusting it open, Scott took the first few strides into the classroom with his hand up waving at their teacher who stood exasperated at the front of the room. “It’s so good of you to join us this morning, Mr. McCall.” Mr. Harris drawled, his dominant hand coming up to rub tiredly at his temple. “Mr. Lahey, I hope your association with Mr. McCall doesn’t start to affect your academic performance.”
“No worries here, Mr. Harris.” Isaac dismissively said as he took his seat next to Scott at their lab table leaving Stiles to stand awkwardly at the door.
“And you must be Ge—“
“Just call me Stiles!” He hurriedly interrupted, earning himself a scowl from the teacher. A great way to start out his new school, pissing off the teacher before he even got his desk assignment. A round of chuckles lifted to his ears, his fellow classmates laughing at his outburst and their teacher’s obvious distaste for the new student.
Mr. Harris shook his head and turned back to the whiteboard in the front of the room. “Take a seat next to Ms. Martin, Mr. Stilinski and let’s hope your taste in new friends improves over the semester. I would hate for you to fall into the bad patterns Mr. McCall has obtained over the years.” A few more chuckles erupted from some of the students who were looking at Scott, grinning like idiots.
As Mr. Harris proceeded to write on the whiteboard Stiles awkwardly glanced around the room wondering who Mr. Martin was so he could take his seat and drown in his self pity in his seat rather than uncomfortably stand in the entryway of the classroom. Someone cleared their throat at the desk in the far back corner of the classroom, forcing the teens eyes up to stare at the lovely jade pair of eyes sparkling his way. She was gorgeous and pointing to the seat next to her with a smile on her face. Hastily making his way to his seat, Stiles was never so happy to sit down than he was right now because finally everyone stopped looking at him and returned to their notes on the board that they probably were supposed to be copying down. “Thanks,” he muttered.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Mr. Harris doesn’t hate you, he hates all students. Just try to show up to class on time, do the homework and attempt to not ask ridiculous questions and you may just get along with him.” Scooting closer so they could share her text book, Stiles realized that he didn’t even know her first name. Glancing to her open folder, he noted a class worksheet that had her name written in her loopy, girly scrawl at the header.
“Thanks Lydia,” he smiled shyly.
Her returning smile was infectious. “Not a problem, Stiles.”
~*~*~
Stiles had to admit that this was the weirdest school he’d ever been to. It was already lunch and he hadn’t gotten beaten up or shoved into a locker. What was even weirder was that Lydia had attached herself to his side and stuck like glue for the entire morning. They shared the same class schedule and were next to each other by their lockers, which was alright for now since she appeared to be the sweetest girl out of the whole school. Her boyfriend was a tool, but Stiles had come to learn over the years that most jocks were and that girls were usually drawn to the bad-boy types and while Jackson appeared to be an ass to everyone around him, Stiles could tell that he was nothing short of a gentleman towards her. And since Lydia dubbed Stiles her new best friend, by proxy Jackson was his new, unofficial big brother and no one dared to say anything when he tripped over his own feet in Calculus class in second block.
“Did you bring money for lunch or did you pack today?” Lydia’s arms were curled around each of theirs as she walked between the two boys towards their lockers. Jackson’s locker was right next to Lydia’s. Stiles faltered in his steps, his arm jerking from Lydia’s loose grip as his feet paused midstride forcing the couple to turn and look at him. “Stiles, are you alright?”
He’d never had to sit with others during lunch, at least others who seemed to care if he actually ate during lunch hour. Adjusting his shoulder straps on his shoulders, the weight suddenly lessened as the old seams finally broke spilling the contents of his back pack onto the floor. Swearing under his breath, Stiles dropped to his knees to quickly pull his school belongings into a messy pile before him, hoping that none of the other students would kick his things across the hall. Jackson appeared next to him, helping by handing Stiles his text book and two pens that skittered across the floor. Even Lydia squatted down to hand him the packet they had received in chemistry that morning for homework.
Standing with all his belongings secured in his arms, Stiles ducked past the two and rushed to his locker. Oddly balancing his things in his scrawny arm, and reaching out with the tips of his fingers to twist the dial on his lock, Stiles sighed in frustration when the lock refused to open. “Easy there, sport.” Lydia’s hands reached out to steady his shaking ones as Jackson proceeded to unlock Stiles locker with ease. He wondered how the teen knew his combination, but refused to ask in favor of hoping they wouldn’t suddenly start making fun of him.
“Stiles, you’re shaking. Are you alright?” Lydia frowned when the brunette jerked out of her hold to quickly place his things at the base of his locker. Once everything was safely in his locker, he took a cursory glance down the hall to make sure nothing was left behind. “Stiles?”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I guess it finally broke.” He’d have to go snooping through the lost and found after school and hopefully find something that he could use that would be suitable and not make it look like he stole something. He didn’t need to draw any more attention to himself at home.
“That thing was ancient,” Jackson joked with a smile on his face as he turned to his own locker to pull drop off his bag.
“Ah, yeah…” Rubbing the back of his head, Stiles jumped when a back pack was dropped into his hands. It was blue in color mostly with light grey and black accents, making it look sleek and sporty. The NorthFace insignia on the strap made him realize just how expensive the bag he was holding really was. Starring up at Jackson with a confused look on his face, all the teen received was a nonchalant shrug. “Jackson?”
“It’s an extra I’ve had in my locker for a while. I use it sometimes for clothes when I stay at Lydia’s house for the night.” The two shared a wink before Jackson passively brought her body against his own, dropping a few kisses to her exposed neck. “My god you smell amazing.” He whispered making Stiles blush. “You can have it, I have a ton. That was my bag from freshman year; it’s seriously not a problem.” Waving off Stiles objection before it could even come out of his mouth, the blonde turned to head towards the cafeteria calling over his shoulder that he’d save them some seats.
“It’s Jackson amazing?” Lydia swooned as she dropped her shoulder bag into her locker. “Blue really is your color, Stiles. You should let me take you clothes shopping.” Her smile didn’t falter as her eyes raked up and down his body taking in his second hand, tattered clothes. Trying not to feel small under her gaze, Stile shut his locker door and turned so she could latch onto his arm once again. The weight of both of her arms around his own was warm, radiating towards his core and calming his jittery nerves almost instantly.
It was weird, the effect the students had on him here at this school. All morning Lydia had been offering reassuring touches, kind words of encouragement, and the warmest smiles Stiles had ever seen and his body was eating up the attention like it was oxygen. Jackson, who appeared to be an ass to everyone around them, had treated him like an equal, like a brother, a friend, something that he hadn’t felt in the longest time and the boys steady presence around them in between classes was almost just as comforting as Lydia’s tender touches. Then there was Isaac and Scott, two of the weirdest characters he’d set eyes on, but they felt like the older brothers he’s never had but always wanted. The warm feelings these four were making him feeling left him unsettled and more confused than ever. Why were they being so nice? How did they even notice him out of everyone else in this school? What was their ulterior motive? Surely they didn’t plan this out before meeting him that they were going to worm their way close to his heart, get closer than anyone ever had before and then rip the rug out from under his feet.
“Sit down,” Lydia patted the seat next to her as she gracefully took a seat next to Jackson and plucked an apple off his tray. “It’s better to wait for the lunch lie to die down.” Across from her was Isaac, Scott and some pretty brunette named Allison who Scott was making goo-goo eyes at and nuzzling into her side like an oversized teddy bear. She seemed annoyed, not at Stiles but at Scott who looked like he was enjoying smelling her far too much. “Guys, this is my new best friend. Stiles, this is everyone.”
A girl plopped down beside him, drawing his attention away from Scott and Allison. She was gorgeous too, long dark brown hair and equally dark brown eyes that stuck out like a bright color against her olive skin tone. “Hi cutie,” she smiled cheekily. Ruffling his hair with her hand she leaned in close to press a wet kiss to his temple.
A few more students sat at their table and before Stiles was aware there were more friendly people surrounding him than he had ever remembered. “That’s Cora and Danny.” She whispered into his ear while pointing to each person who sat down with their lunches at the table, offering him a small wave before turning to the person next to them and chatting away happily.
His heart thundered loudly in his chest, so loud he was pretty sure he could hear it and the blood rushing behind his ears. His chest tightened and he could feel his accessory muscles working in time with his body to force oxygen into his lungs before his body submitted to a panic attack in front of these people who had only been kind to him on his first day. Maybe they were just really nice people and that they would continue to be nice to him the remainder of the year. He could dream, but that meant he had to calm down and pretend to be the strong, awkward teenager they met today, not the weak, worthless piece of shit who was just fading through life. His abdominal muscles tightened, his stomach rolling with the effort to pull oxygen into his body before he passed out. Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he felt Jackson and Isaac’s watchful eyes lingering on him; almost like they knew.
A warm hand slipped into his own under the table, grounding the teen and bringing his conscious back to the lunch conversation—something about the upcoming game this Friday and how there was so much pressure on the whole team. Jerking his head to stare at Lydia’s warm face, he melted momentarily as she stood up, drawing him with her by their connected hands. “Let’s get lunch, Stiles.” Pushing him in front of her and handing him a maroon tray from the lunch line she nudged him down the whole line, filling his plate with a hearty turkey sandwich—complete with a little mayonnaise, lettuce, tomato and red onion—as well as a bag of Doritos, an apple and then one of the large chocolate chip cookies at the end of the line while fixing herself a grilled chicken salad and grabbing some sliced peaches. At the end of the line she got herself and Stiles a coke and stepped around him to pay for her own and walking out to head back to their table.
The cashier looked at him expectantly and for a moment Stiles panicked, knowing he had zero cash to pay for this lunch. Just as the cashier was about to haul him to the side his hand clenched tighter around his tray causing a light brushing of paper to tickle his palm. Looking down to the hand Lydia had grabbed, he starred in a confused manner at the twenty-dollar bill. The cashier leaned forward and took the twenty from him, exchanging it out for his change and dropping eighteen dollars back into his hand. She ushered him out of the lunch line and shut the door with a resonating slam. No one seemed to noticed in the lunch room, the rest of his classmates carrying on with their conversations and still not noticing him. He glanced around until he saw Jackson wave him back over to their table along the wall of windows with a smile, giving his feet the courage to close the distance and take his seat once again next to Lydia.
Once seated, her hand sought out his own once again under the table as she leaned in so her lips were pressed against the shell of his ear. “Eat something, you’re way to skinny.” Stiles swore her lips pressed against his skin in a soft kiss before returning to her conversation with Danny and Jackson. Her free hand worked her fork with ease, stabbing small bites of lettuce, bacon, grilled chicken, and other salad fixing onto the prongs and taking mouth savoring bites. Stiles hand unconsciously curled tighter around hers while his non-dominant hand reached clumsily for the turkey sandwich the lunch lady had cut for him. His fingers were shaking, the brunette was pretty sure Danny noted their tremble from across him, but he was able to loosely grip his sandwich and take a mouthwatering bite, his senses forgetting what actual food tasted like over the last few days.
When lunch was over, and everyone disappeared off into their separate ways, Lydia leg him to Government class with Jackson and sat him next to her, Jackson taking the seat immediately across from them. His stomach was full, he’d only been able to eat half of his sandwich and a few bites of his cookie, but in his locker he had the left over’s sealed in a few of Isaac’s plastic lunch bags to save for later. He wanted to cry for how safe everyone was making him feel and at the same time cry out in insanity because this kind of charity always came with a price and he was desperate to know what it was. Surely, whatever it was, it would crush him upon impact and leave him shattered.
~*~*~
He wanted to stay and watch the lacrosse team practice with Lydia, Cora and Allison, who all swore that it was close to watching porn on the internet sometimes. He had no idea what that was like and had to respectfully decline in favor of getting home to work on his homework that was due by the end of the week. He’d only missed the first month of school, had four weeks’ worth of homework to complete and turned in by Friday. He could do it, he knew he could, but once he walked through the side door into his new house in Beacon Hills he knew tonight he wouldn’t get much done with a hand came out of nowhere, harshly throwing him against the wall and forcing a cry to fall from his lips as the pain that had dulled over the day erupted tenfold in his sides.
He knew better than to fight back, it was always better to opt with the truth and wait out the anger until he could scurry away and hide in his room. “Whose book bag did you steal?” Hot breath wafted over his skin, making him shiver in cold fear. This was what he wanted to avoid.
“They gave it to me!” He loudly protested as best he could with his face shoved roughly into the drywall of their kitchen.
“Who would take pity on someone like you?” His hand was wrenched around behind him, his elbow bent at a bad angle with his wrist turned out, forcing the teen up onto his toes to alleviate some of the pain. “No one cares about you. This person was only feeling sorry for a worthless piece of shit like you!”
Tears streamed down his face; because how could he tell his uncle that he really didn’t think Jackson pitied him? How could he explain the warm feelings the other students left in him when he couldn’t even explain it to himself? “I’m sorry,” he whimpered hoping that his uncle would let his wrist go before his weak bones snapped under the pressure.
His uncle growled loudly in his ear before forcefully pushing off his nephew and moving back into the living room. “I leave for work at seven, make me dinner.” Stiles didn’t hesitate to start making his uncle something before he left for the station, not wanting to anger the larger man any more than he already had.