𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒
surprised that I haven't eye rolled myself into another dimension yet

"NOW THAT WE know You're related to Valentine—"

"The devil."

"We have an advantage." Alec shot Stiles a look from where he stood in front of Jace, Izzy, Simon, Clary, and Stiles. Since they have found out that both Clary and Stiles are brother and sister — twins, nonetheless — they haven't left each other's sides. "
They really took their pinky promise to a whole new level. "Now, all we have to do is find the mortal cup and everything will go as planned."

"Unless Valentine finds the cup first," Stiles butted in, again. "Let's say... What if we don't get to the cup before Valentine? Better yet... What if we find the cup, valentine follows and track us down, allowing him to get his hands on it?" He looked at his fellow Shadowhunters with raised eyebrows. "What happens then?"

"He's asking the right questions," Simon pointed at the male Fairchild, brows raised.

"We'll kill him," Jace and Alec spoke up in sync, the same determination in their hardened voices.

"Oh yeah, why not?" Stiles sarcastically questioned. "Always with the killing. Why do we have to do the Killy?" He looked up into Alec's blue eyes with wide caramel colored ones. "Why can't we give him a lollipop and a pat on the back saying, 'thanks for trying to take over the world, but we like it the way it is?' Like, I think that would be more helpful than just the whole stabby - stab thing you guys have going on."

"Have you ever had a head trauma?" Jace asked him bluntly.

Stiles frowned in thought, thinking back to every injury he has ever had. There was a lot of them. "Nope." He shook his head, smiling. "But there was this one time when—"

"I don't wanna know," Jace interrupted which only had Stiles frowning.

"Rude," he mumbled, crossing his arms.

"We Need to know the location of the cup," Jace continued as if Stiles hadn't uttered a single word. He put up a picture of a cup onto the computer screens.

Stiles frown deepened as that cup looked really familiar. A pounding sound filled his senses. It was as if something was banging on a door or wall. He allowed whatever it was to fill his head.

He was then pulled into a very old memory.

"Pick a card, any card." Younger Stiles shoved a handful of cards into Scott's face. His eight year old form giggled.

"I choose... this one." Scott picked a random care with a smile on his face. They both frowned at the card he was holding. It was a black and gold card with a royal looking cup on it. "What is this?"

"I don't know, Scotty."

"Stiles?"

The boy in question opened his eyes, not ever realizing that he had closed them. He looked at the group surrounding him, and heaved a loud sigh. "I know where the cup is."

"What? Where!?"

"Beacon Hills."

Clary's hazel-green eyes widened and she automatically shouted, "hell no!" Everyone turned to her in both amusement and surprise. "There is no way I am allowing Stiles to go back to that town knowing what they have put him through. There is absolutely no way!"

"Clary..." Simon trialed off, brows furrowed, lips pulled down in a confused frown. "What are you talking about?"

Clary pursed her lips as she looked over at Stiles who seemed to steel himself before nodding in her direction. She gave him a small smile before turning to her best friend. "Stiles' old friends... his pack... they blamed him for everything that had gone wrong, and kicked him out of the pack soon after his father — sorry, father figure — was brutally murdered."

Simon furrowed his brows. "Why did they blame him for the things that had gone wrong?"

Stiles ran a hand through his hair and took in a much needed breath to calm himself. "I was in a very vulnerable state which allowed my body to be taken over by a thousand year old demon called the Nogitsune. He thrived off of pain, strife, and chaos. He tortured my friends, hurt some of them... killed others. And although we had gotten separated after a while, our minds were still connected and I had watched... I had felt one of his followers — that was called Oni's — drive a sword through one of my friends. She didn't survive. Ever since then, the pack hated me even if they didn't want to admit it. And once I was hurting and vulnerable after my fathers... after Noah's death... they kicked me out of the pack and wanted nothing to do with me. So... like the coward Jace says I am, I ran."

Everyone stood in silence at his confession, frowning.

"It wasn't your fault," Izzy spoke up, offering him a small smile of reassurance. "They clearly didn't appreciate you from the start. And it wasn't your hand that had drew that sword, no matter what anyone else says or thinks."

"She's right, Stiles," Simon piped in. "Screw those assholes. They didn't and still don't deserve you."

Alec's frown deepened at the thought of anyone hating Stiles, especially due to something that was against his will. "Forget about them. Don't let them consume your thoughts anymore. You're better off without them."

Everyone turned to him in slight surprise of him speaking up, but Stiles smiled brightly at him.

"Thanks, guys, I really needed to hear some positive words for once." Stiles rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced around at the group before him. Is this what having real friends feel like?

Nobody noticed Jace who had a guilt-filled face as he stared over at Stiles, which quickly turned murderous towards the so-called pack that Stiles once was part of.