𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋
if i disappeared, would you look for me?

STILES STILINSKI, resident human of a werewolf pack, walked into the loft that belongs to the one and only Derek Hale; the man who Stiles disliked more than anything for a while. And maybe it was for good reason, because as soon as he walked inside, the older man narrowed his eyes at him.

Deep down, Stiles knew what was about to happen. He hasn't been that close to the pack ever since the Nogitsune possessed him and made him do terrible, unforgiving things.

"What's up?" He asked and all at once, the pack that was conversing, quieted as if his presence ruined their happy evening.

"We've been thinking Stiles..." Scott trialed off, not being able to meet the eyes of his best friend. It hurt him to have to do this, but he couldn't trust him anymore. Not after what he did to Allison and Aiden and countless others that he killed with the bomb at the police station. And let's not forget Coach who almost died by a trapped laid out by him. Too much has happened for him, and the rest of the pack, to trust Stiles. "And we came to a conclusion."

"Spit it out," Stiles said, exhausted. God, he is so exhausted. After fighting the possession for weeks on end, and then having to see through the Nogitsune's eyes as he killed and ruined friendships, he just wanted it all to end.

And although he knew that it wasn't him who killed all those people personally, it was still done by his hands, even if it wasn't him that had been in control of his actions.

The whole situation was a mess.

"You're out of the pack, Stiles," Scott said through clenched teeth.

Stiles couldn't tell if he was forcing those words out or if he was angry at him for being a little rude. Who knows, but Stiles didn't care.

Scott has been pushing him away for weeks. Not only distancing himself, but also the pack from Stiles. So, it had made him feel even more alone and hurt and afraid.

The rest of the pack nodded in agreement at Scott's words, also not able to meet his eyes.

Pathetic — Stiles spat in his head. If they wanted to kick him out of the pack, they should at least have the decency to look him in the face.

He didn't want to care about how they all agreed to not be friends with him, to trust him, but he did care. And it hurt. It hurt like a bitch.

Taking in a deep breath, Stiles nodded. "Okay," he said lowly, pretending to care less. He hid his pain behind a mask — a mask full of confidence that he certainly didn't have. Not anymore.

The pack seemed to surprise that Stiles — dramatic Stiles — didn't have anything else to say on the matter other than 'okay'. It seemed like they wanted him to be hurt, that they wanted him to cry, scream, beg for their forgiveness. But, instead, they got a simple answer from a pained individual that was minutes away from a mental breakdown.

'Okay' was all that Stiles could say at the moment because if he went to speak out loud how he really felt, he would just looked at as weak, as pathetic, as defenseless.

Huh, he mused. Weak and defenseless was what Derek described him as before finding out said weak person was possessed by a thousand year old demon who wanted to cause chaos and pain.

"Just 'okay'?" Scott asked, narrowing his eyes at his best — sorry — ex best fiend. "That's all you have to say?"

Stiles stared at the boy he once thought of as his brother, in the eyes for so long that the True Alpha adverted his eyes, looking ashamed. But, he didn't say anything else, didn't even try to take back the fear and hate that had shown in his eyes moments ago. He didn't even try to take back anything he had once said about Stiles behind the boys back. No, he didn't do any of that because Scott is the pathetic one.

It's like no one thought that he would overhear most of their conversations that they had about him.

"He has changed", "He has no emotion in his eyes anymore", "I think the void is still in him", "He might snap and hurt more people one day" was not even half of what they have said about him behind his back.

Stiles gave them a moment to say anything else, to do anything else. But nothing.

Well, screw them then.

"I have nothing else to say to you," Stiles spat out before scoffing and making his way out of the loft, and away from his pathetic ex pack.

Not only did they treat him like an outsider, like he was about to snap one day and kill them all, they decided to wait not even twenty-four hours after his fathers funeral to do this to him.

It's like they were waiting for an excuse to throw him out of the pack like a bag of garage.

That's exactly how he felt, too — like garbage.

He had no one left. Not in Beacon Hills anymore.

He had no friends, no pack, and no father. Everything was taken from him, or willingly left. And he didn't know which hurt more.

His poor father — the only person who had stuck by him after the Nogitsune — was murdered in cold blood. It was clear as day that it had been a supernatural creature because there was no way that no human would've been able to do what had been done to Noah.

Stiles has just gotten there in time to see his father take in his last dying breath before going limp in his arms.

Once he finds out what kind of creature did that to his father, they were going to pay, and Stiles didn't care if he was seen as a monster after what he has planned for it.

But, the first step was to go somewhere, take a breather, and then hunt down the creature.

And that's why, by the next day, he was in New York, hoping he could stay with his cousin Clary Fray and her mother.

Approaching Clary's apartment door, Stiles couldn't help but gasp. The door was busted in, and when he made his way inside, all of their belongings were scattered all over. The place was completely trashed like a tornado had somehow made it's way inside.

Stepping over broken items, Stiles opened Clary's bedroom door, knowing exactly where it had been at from his multiple visits to the place.

Covering his nose due to the smell, the teenage boy found his cousins room burnt to a crisp.

"What the fuck?" He mumbled to himself in shock and confusion. What the hell had happened and where was his cousin and aunt?

Dropping his bag from his shoulder, he scrambled for his phone in his pocket, almost stumbling into the doorway in the process. Once he found the rectangular object in his pocket, he pulled it out and dialed Clary's number.

"Hello?" Her sweet — almost angelic — voice came through the device and he let out a breath of relief, happy knowing that she was safe.

"Clary?"

"Stiles?" She asked his name in shock, not had expecting a call from him anytime soon.

"Where the hell are you, Clary? Your apartment is trashed, and your bedroom is burnt to a crisp. What the hell happened?" He questioned frantically, his free hand waving around near his face.

"About that, Stiles..." She started with a slight nervous laugh. And with that, he knew something was wrong. Very wrong.

"What happened?"

CLARY'S POV:

"WHAT HAPPENED?"

"I," Clary started, stuttering over her words, not knowing what to say, how to say it, or if she should even say it. "Can we meet up?" She asked him instead, letting out a sigh as she looked up at Alec who was glaring down at her with his piercing blue eyes.

"Sure sure, yeah," He stuttered out as he heard something fall in Clary's building. "Someone is in your apartment," He whispered into the phone, his voice cracking slightly.

"Yeah, you are," she told him in a duh tone, furrowing his brows, not realizing the situation seeing as he loves to be sarcastic. And he always likes to scare her with pranks.

"No, someone else," He told her and she paused for a second, realizing that he wasn't joking. Someone seriously could be in her apartment. And if someone was, it most likely wasn't a human, meaning her cousin was in danger.

"Do you see anybody? What do they look like?" She asked him, rushing down the street, bumping into Simon on the way. "Sorry," she muttered to him and then winces as Alec raced to her side and grabbed her arm roughly.

"What's going on?" Simon asked his best friend, not having seen her like this, not since her mother was taken.

Clary shook her head, holding back the tears that threatened to escape. "Stiles might be in trouble," she told him, looking around with wide eyes.

"No, I don't see anybody," Stiles whispered into the phone.

"What do you mean, you don't see anybody?" She asked him, jerking her arm out of Alec's grasp, and go tug at her hair worriedly.

"It means I don't see anybody!" He exclaimed into the phone. "But, I did hear something fall and I feel like i'm being watched," He explained to the redhead, only making her anxiety sky rocket. When he get's these kinds of feelings, usually they were never wrong. He was never wrong.

"Stiles," she said sternly to get him to calm down. "Go hid me and we'll be there soon," she told him, walking down the street with Simon and Alec behind her.

It was weird though — her cousin being at her apartment — because they were actually planning on going there anyway. They had a plan to search for the cup and anything else that was salvageable.

"We? Who's we? Are you bringing people along — strangers?! People I don't know? Are you sure they aren't here already?" He asked her in one breathe. Sometimes she wonders how he can do that. But, then again, it's probably the ADHD.

"Stiles, this isn't the time," she snapped, instantly regretting it.

"Clary—" He was cut off all of a sudden. "Aaah!" Was the last thing the redhead heard before the phone went silent.

"Stiles!" She yelled out, not caring who heard her. running down the street, taking the road that lead to her apartment building.