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It’s been 6 weeks since he’d returned to Beacon Hills. 11 weeks since he’s been found. And 43 weeks since he’d been taken. That leaves 5 weeks in recovery from 26 weeks of capture. 26 long weeks which to everyone knowledge, he had lived in isolation after running away from a serial killer. Of course, after being escorted into his apparent hometown by FBI squad cars, everyone believed so. Everyone but his supposed friends. The red head-
“No.”
Thomas furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “Sorry?”
The red head sighed impatiently with her lips pursed, though in her eyes you could see her unshed tears.
“I’m not a red head nor a Ginger, the correct colour if you’re so adamant on knowing, is strawberry-“
“Blonde.” Thomas interrupted abruptly, to the surprise of the strawberry blonde and himself. The girl let out a hysteric breath.
“Yeah.”
“You’re smart… like, really smart,” Lydia stayed silent as Stiles seemed to be having an internal battle with himself- blinking his eyes and shaking his head jerkily, “You have a thing for douches… and you can scream. Very loudly.” There was a suspenseful moment of silence before Thomas hesitantly asked.
“L-Lydia?” Lydia bit her lips in an effort to not cry out loud, but that didn’t stop the tears from rolling down her face. She smiled longingly and nodded her head in confirmation.
And for the first time since he’d been separated from all he knew- Thomas smiled back.
The strawberry blonde, had been the first he had come into contact with from his friends, but she certainly was not the last. The other one, with the big puppy eyes and lopsided smile-
“It’s not lopsided, it’s just… skew” he finished off lamely. Thomas smirked triumphantly. The puppy gave him the grown man equivalent of a pout before chuckling himself. Thomas found himself liking him, he was easy to be around with and had a trustworthy aura.
“Man, I’d be surprised if I wasn’t friends with you before,” Thomas said flippantly. The Puppy flinched ever so slightly that Thomas wouldn't have noticed it if he were anyone else- which he wasn’t.
“You OK?” Thomas stopped and asked. The Puppy looked hesitant but nodded.
“Yeah, it’s just that, we used to be friends, really good friends before, you know…” He trailed off softly. Thomas averted his eyes awkwardly. How was he supposed to remember?
“Oh,” Thomas sighed, “Look man, I’m sorry I can’t remember you. When I was gone they did some stuff to my memory and I can’t seem-“
“No man, it’s OK, I know, we all- all your friends do. We’re trying not to overwhelm you so meeting you one-on-one was the next best option. Sorry if I seemed too pushy… I just really missed you.” Puppy whispered sadly. Thomas could visibly see the sadness seeping off him. It was like Jackson stealing his bucket in the sandbox all over again.
Wait.
Images of a scrawny, asthmatic child playing in the sandbox and attempting to ride a bicycle flooded his mind. Images of a body over his at a hospital bed when no one else was there and of golden and red eyes. Images rushed to him as if it were a movie of their lives on fast forward.
“Iles, Stiles!” Thomas was pulled out of his memories to see a worried puppy in front of him.
“You OK man? You kinda just zoned out there for a second. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it could have meant nothing, but with everything that happened- oh shit! Not supposed to bring that up. Dammit, I-“
“Scott, its fine-“
“No it’s not fine! I’m supposed to be helping you, not hurting you and reminding you of your time in-“
“Really, it’s fine, nothing hurts more than running Coach’s suicides as freshmen-“
“True, but I shouldn’t-“ Scott stopped abruptly. His eyes widened even more if possible and his mouth dropped open in shock.
“I didn’t tell you my name.” he stated. Thomas shook his head.
“I didn’t tell you of our Lacrosse trials either.” Again Thomas shook his head.
“You don’t need to tell me what I remember- didn’t think I could forget you for long, could you?” Thomas asked teasingly. Before he could prepare himself, a big, muscled body was thrown onto his, Scott’s arms embracing him tightly, as if he were afraid to let go. Thomas gladly returned the gesture. He felt safe, at home and familiar.
And just for those few seconds, Thomas felt like Stiles again.
From that moment onward, Lydia and Scott had followed him around everywhere. From errands he’d forced his dad to let him run, to trips to the bathroom (which he managed to convince his two passionate friends was not healthy). The red head and the brunette puppy had practically become part of him. Which wasn’t hard after he remembered what they went through.
Thomas regaining his memories was weird. It hadn’t been some massive revelation that he had gotten over a panic attack or passing out. His memories were nonchalant to put it plainly. Thomas imagined them to be little troll dudes who hung out around a cooler at the beach, with sunglasses and every time someone from his past came along, if his memory trolls were paying attention, they’d lower their glasses to get a clear view and BOOM! The memory ingrains itself in Thomas’s mind as if it never left. Kind of like a by-the-way thing, it just pops up out of nowhere. Of course, sometimes the stupid memory troll dudes don’t pay attention and Thomas is left to deal with a particularly aggressive individual whom he had had previous relations with (Malia) and has to explain the third time he sees her, why he took so long to remember her. Much to Lydia and Scott’s chagrin. To sum it up, Thomas really wished the troll dudes would pay attention, all the time.
The one person Thomas never forgot though, was his father. He never remembered his name, what he did or his voice, but Thomas could always remember his face. It was murky at times, like a mirage of water in the dessert, but when all you seem to see are mirages, there is bound to be a real one. So when Thomas was found by those agents, and he resisted with unimaginable force, once he saw that face, the face he had seen for months, he stilled. Because no matter what the situation, he knew that face would never be anywhere that would have ill intentions towards Thomas. Never.
Now, Thomas has gotten himself familiar with the blonde cat women, Erica, and her significant other, Brick wall Boyd. Isaac, the puppy. The twin brothers, Ethan and Aiden and the badass brunette Allison. And off course, Lydia, Scott, Malia and Derek. Derek. He’s an interesting story for later.
“Kiddo? You still up?” The Sheriff questioned as he peeked in from Thomas’s closed door. Thomas got up slowly from his desk and faced the Sheriff.
“Yeah, just doing some last minute catching up, for school,” Thomas said smoothly gesturing to the numerous files opened on his table with his right hand. His left hand covered behind the edge of the desk.
The Sheriff nodded, still unsure. “Look kid, you can still take a few days off, its only been a couple of weeks-“
“Dad, I want to go,” Thomas reassured him. “I need to go.”
His dad nodded, albeit wearily.
“Alright son, just not too late ok? After school, come straight back home,” Thomas nodded with a smile.
“Love you son, always,” The Sheriff said to Thomas and paused for a short minute before closing the door.
Thomas waited until he could hear the Sheriff’s footsteps descend the stairs. Once he heard the car’s engine start, he looked down to his left hand, which gripped a M1911 pistol. He took the handkerchief from his desk and cleaned the gun. Thomas then looked at the pistol and debated on taking it to school or not. Deciding against it, Thomas settled on taking his blade, hidden between the neatly folded pants in his cupboard shelves, and strapping it around the side of his right calf, folding his pants over.
Thomas was getting accustomed to his old life, but he could never forget what he had been through- and could never let it happen again.
The first thing Thomas registered were the whispers. Sure, the piercing stares and pointing were quite obvious, but Thomas could hear the whispers even before he stepped out of his Jeep in the parking lot of the school. And It’s not like he didn’t understand, the Sheriff’s kid goes missing, presumed dead and washes up months later as a shell of himself. If Thomas had been on the other side of this, he would have been part of the whispers too.
“Stiles-” Thomas threw opened the door harshly, jerking his head to the surprise male who had stood at his window. He sees Scott get off clumsily from the tar.
“Sorry, force of habit,” Thomas offers, though he knows that Scott knew better than to appear out of the blue on him. Scott shakes his head.
“It’s OK, I shouldn’t have snuck up like that. You ready for school?”
Thomas raised his eyebrow and gestured to the small group that had formed at the Corner of the school entrance, trying to subtly take pictures of him. Trying.
“I was ready for learning. Not for the paparazzi.” Scott’s small smile dropped.
“Dude, if you’re not ready-“
“I’ll be fine! I told my dad and I’ll tell you, I can’t put my life on hold just because of what happened, I need to get back to being a normal teenager,” Scott gave him a funny look, “Well, as normal as we get. I’m not letting them affect me anymore than they have.”
Thomas could tell by Scott’s face that he didn’t really understand and Thomas couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t even told Scott, or anyone, who his “kidnappers” actually were. Not like his friends asked, they didn’t want to push their mentally exhausted and traumatized friend over the edge by bringing up some unresolved issues from the past. And Thomas was kind of glad they didn’t.
“Okay, we just, act normal. Normal Day at school.” Scott smiled at him, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Thomas nodded and the walked together into the school.
“So pack meeting at Derek’s in,” Scott glanced at his phone, “two hours and bring a blanket. Boyd always hoards the blankets.”
Thomas bid farewell to his friends and rode his Jeep back to the house. He took a detour through the preserve to savor his time alone. He doesn’t get much of that these days. Thomas gripped the steering wheel and let out a heavy breath. Everything was so confusing. He felt right, like he was where he belonged, yet something was out of place. Like he was missing a part of himself. He had a feeling what that part was but he knew he could never fill that void. He was better off feeling more whole than empty. After all, if Thomas couldn’t have everything, 80% was better than 20%. At least that’s what he told himself.
Thomas parked his Jeep 20 minutes out from the old hale house, by a clearing which overlooked Beacon Hills. Thomas stood there and watched the busy cars and preoccupied people who looked so insignificant, go about their lives. He felt at ease there, able to overlook the town. He felt in control and capable of protection- of everyone. Thomas sat on a rock that was on the brink of dropping and looked simply gazed out into the distance.
The Pack Meeting, Thomas established, was a step a little too close to home. Sure, he had been to a couple before school started but those were legitimate- where strategies and discussions of integration were talked about. This, whatever this was, this pillow-fighting, movie -watching club just seemed like what a family would do and Thomas’s family wasn’t here. He smiled briefly to everyone when he entered and was guided to his designated seat much to his luck, in the middle of the sofa. He recoiled slightly at the touch of those surrounding him but chastised himself to let loose. He needed to push himself out of his ‘bubble’.
Erica asked him casually which movie he would prefer as the tie breaker, Star Wars or The Dark Knight. Thomas opened his mouth to tell her that he doesn’t know either movie before Scott comes to his rescue and dramatically announces he has not watched Star Wars, naturally leading to it being shown. The Pack cuddled with each other, all much closer to himself than others, Thomas noted, but he found that he didn’t mind. Thomas hesitantly extended his arm over Malia’s shoulder, his body tense, expecting a severe reaction. Instead, she casually placed her head on his shoulder, adjusting herself to make more room for others near the in-demand boy.
Thomas barely paid attention to the movie, realizing 20 minutes in that he basically knew the script off by heart. What he did notice was the loyalty and trust this group had in Stiles, not Thomas. Stiles had wit and made jokes that went over most peoples head. Thomas was serious and almost never saw an opportunity or thought to joke. Stiles loved to talk and could barely throw a punch. Thomas preferred the silence and could take out a target, close and far range in seconds. The only mutual thing they had in common, was their strategic thinking. The need for research, planning and overall ‘knowing before doing’.
Thomas looked at his pack mates.
The same way that no one could ever replace his family from the maze, Thomas guessed no one could replace Stiles from Beacon Hills. Ever since he arrived, his friends have been at his side with nothing to gain but his baggage. Thomas knew that sometimes he had been angry, isolating and a general pain to everyone who had tried to help him, but here these band of misfits were, cuddling him. It then dawned on him, that if Newt, Frypan, Minho or anyone from the maze had acted the way he had, he never would not have gave up on them either. He would have been at their beck and call, helping them through anything. Because that’s what family does.
Thomas knew the chances of ever seeing his “family” again were slim to none, and it hurt. He would do anything to have them with him, but he cant. Although, even if Thomas can’t have his family, he could help bring another one together. This pack, this family, wanted him. They needed him, but not Thomas. They needed Stiles Stilinski, the loud-mouthed, ever talking, walking detective. And Thomas could give that to them. As Thomas blankly watched the credits roll to the film, and the resident supernatural’s curl closer to him, he realized he wanted them to be happy, whether it was because of him, or Stiles.
Thomas decided that if anyone deserved to have happiness, it was the pack. And if they found it through Stiles, Thomas could give that to them. After all, Thomas cannot be with his family, but maybe as Stiles, he could find comfort with another.
Over the next 2 months, Thomas grew to accept and even like this “Stiles Stilinski" character. He still felt that aching gap in his life, one he knew could not be filled without a certain group of people. He still woke up in the middle of the night, panting, with tears pouring down his face from the memories of the people he lost and the pain he suffered. But Thomas knew that who he was for those 6 months, was never going to return. So he might as well put it behind him.
“Stiles, you ready man?” Scott asked loudly from his bike outside his house, ready to take Stiles to school due to the Jeep's "off-day". The Sheriff's son quickly threw his books into his bag, pausing when he glanced at the cupboard where his blade was hidden. After a moment of deliberation, he zipped his bag and slung it over his shoulders, leaving the blade in its place.
“I think I am,” Stiles smiled.