Actions

Work Header

Stiles knocks some sense into the perpetually stupid, slays the baddies with his words and finally gets the guy! Well, werewolf.

Summary:

Stiles is at the end of his rope. His patience is gone and he’s been screwed over one too many times. He’s been so focused on doing everything for everyone else, sacrificing so much for the happiness of others, thinking that this is what friends do.

But he’s realized that none of his friends think the same way. All of them seem to have forgotten how to say thank you when anyone does them a favor and none of them ever think of anything but themselves.

Notes:

I refuse to watch season 3 of Teen Wolf until it's finished. Or until Jeff Davis decides to stop torturing and throwing everything terrible possible at Derek and Stiles. Like, seriously. Would it be so awful if something good happened to them for a change? Scott McCall does not deserve to have the good things he does. Also, worst ~~tru alfa~~ ever.
So, yeah, I imagine this, and the rest of the fics I'm writing for that matter, after the events of season 2, without any of season 3 occurring.

Yeah, if you love love Scott and Allison, you might not wanna read this. I'm just not a fan.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Stiles Stilinski is not actually a nice guy. Sure, he’s loyal to the people he cares about, the ones who’ve earned his trust. But it takes a lot to do so; it’s never given out freely. But once it’s been earned, once someone has this boy’s trust, then it’s as if their name is carved into his heart. Short of abandonment or utmost betrayal from them, there’s nothing that would cause them to lose it; they’ll have his loyalty forever. If they don’t break Stiles’ heart after he’s given them a piece of it, he’ll stick with them until the end, take a bullet for them, even cover for them while they run off to hunt bunnies on the full moon.

But you see, now, Stiles is at the end of his rope. His patience is gone and he’s been fucked over one too many times. He’s been so focused on doing everything for everyone else, sacrificing so much for the happiness of others, thinking that this is what friends do. But he’s realized that none of his friends think the same way. All of them seem to have forgotten how to say thank you when anyone does them a favor and none of them ever think of anything but themselves.

Except for, surprisingly, of all people, Derek. When he comes to Stiles, slips into his bedroom through the window with requests for research or insight into whatever problems currently plaguing Beacon Hills, he does so extremely politely. He and Stiles always have fantastically snarky banter and after 2 years of knowing each other, Derek is finally not afraid to show his sense of humor. Gone are the days where he would get so impatient with Stiles’ tendency to ramble that he’d slam him into things. Now, it’s as if he enjoys the things the younger man talks about. And Stiles really appreciates it because it almost feels like everyone else just tunes him out.

Stiles used to be really afraid of Derek, but then he thought about it. He had pieced together what happened to the Hales, how that bitch Kate Argent had known when and how to set the fire to ensure it was a proper massacre. And Stiles doesn’t give a fuck what anyone says, that’s rape. She raped him, even if it was consensual. Because he was 16 and she was his goddamn substitute teacher; he’d looked up the police files and filled in all the holes. Stiles would bet that Derek had never told a soul what had happened to him. Not even Laura. And he really feels for the guy, understands how he could have so much anger in him. He’s violent because he wants to mask the guilt radiating from his every pore. Stiles only wished there were something he could do.

He’d also really like to pound it into Scott’s head just how stupid it is to consider throwing everyone else away for the sake of Allison Argent’s magical vagina. Because it’s really not okay just how much others have suffered because of Scott’s idiocy and complete blindness when it comes to her. When that whole thing with the Kanima went down and Lydia managed to turn Jackson back into a werewolf, Stiles was covered in cuts and bruises inflicted on him by Gerard Argent. And Scott, his supposed best friend, didn’t even ask about them, didn’t even check if he was okay. He did, however, comfort the girl who had spent the entire time stabbing Scott and Isaac with those goddamn ring daggers of hers. Not to mention, she’d spent the last week shooting arrows into teenagers who wanted nothing more than to leave Beacon Hills and helping her psychotic grandfather capture them and torture them with electricity. Stiles knew that Allison had been aware that Gerard had taken Stiles and was beating the shit out of him. She just didn’t care. And he guesses, neither does Scott.

Stiles was okay with being nobody’s priority for a while, but some things just can’t be ignored. The final straw that broke the werecamel’s back was on December 2nd. The worst day in Stiles’s life, the day that makes Christmas every year so damn hard, the day he spends out of school and sometimes the Sheriff takes it off work, but that varies with how he feels ne needs to handle it. The anniversary of the death of Claudia Stilinski. Every year on December 2nd, Stiles and Scott skip school and together visit the cemetery. Scott hangs back while Stiles spends a while just sitting in front of her headstone, talking to her and usually crying some too. He can’t help it, he misses her. Afterwards, Scott will hold his hand as they leave the cemetery and go back to Stiles’ house, where Scott will spend the entire day distracting his best friend. They’ll watch movies, play video games, and eat enough junk food to feed a small army. It’s the only thing that keeps Stiles from breaking down each year, the only thing that keeps his heart from bursting with how much pain he still feels from the loss of his mom.

Thursday, November 30th, Stiles walked up to Scott as he was standing at his locker just after lacrosse practice. “Hey man, didn’t see you much today.”

“Yeah, Allison wanted to eat lunch outside today. She likes days that are chilly and sunny. And then after lunch, she said we should skip the rest of the day and use it for uh, our own fun, if you know what I mean.” Scott had this dopey look on his face so Stiles did, unfortunately, know what he meant.

Shaking off his grossed out expression, Stiles moves on. “Good times, I guess. I just wanted to make sure we were still on for Saturday? The Second?”

“Oh yeah, definitely! I will see you there, man!” Scott finished up changing, grabbed his backpack and walked out of the locker room. Stiles sighed, feeling relieved, and finished up too before he headed out to his jeep.

~~~~~~~~

Saturday dawned gloomy and overcast. Stiles pulled his red hoodie tighter around him as he walked through the cemetery to his mother’s headstone. Unusually, Scott hadn’t been waiting in the parking lot when he got there. “He must be already at the marker,” Stiles muttered to himself. But when he got there, no Scott. He frowned, but shrugged it off; that kid was always running late. He’d be here. Stiles sat down on the slightly dewy grass and began talking to his mom, saying he was sorry he hadn’t been to visit more often and explaining just how much supernatural mayhem he’d had to deal with in the past months.

After about 4 hours of waiting and chilling with his mom, Stiles gave up. He felt like a hot knife had been stabbed through his gut. He pulled out his phone and shot off a text to Scott.
‘Where are you?’
‘dude, where am i? where r u?! greenburg’s lame, but he thru a gud lax team party! party all day n nite! allison here n isaac 2! get here! thot u were comin!’

Stiles felt sick. Of course. Of fucking course.

But then it was like something snapped inside him and Stiles felt nothing but rage. This was it. No fucking more. He dialed another number on his phone and held it up to his ear as he started trudging his way back to his jeep. “Hey, Peter? I need a favor. A big one. But I think you’ll reeeeaaaaallly enjoy it. Can I come over?”

~~~~~~~~

Chris awoke and tried to figure out why the hell he felt so damn fuzzy. When had he fallen asleep? What was even the last thing he was doing? Ah yes, grocery run. And a stop at the gas station on his way home. But did he get home? He didn’t think so. He doesn’t ever remember putting the groceries away.

He groaned as his vision cleared. Shit. A creepy, dank, dark warehouse, just where he wanted to spend his evening. Automatically he noticed he could no longer feel the knife sheath usually strapped to his ankle. Or the handgun on his belt. Or any of the other numerous weapons he kept on his person, he assumed. And he was tied up. Expertly too, from the feel of it; the ropes wouldn’t give an inch. Double shit.

That’s when he took in his surroundings and realized he’s not the only one here, not the only one tied up. But at least he wasn’t gagged like the others. “Allison!” he croaked, before coughing and clearing his throat. “Are you alright? What’s going on?” She just looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. Now, his little girl wasn’t a little girl anymore. She’d been extremely well trained. So if she was scared, then she’d already tried everything she could think of to get out of this and failed.

Scott McCall was there too, still coming around from the look of his hazy eyes. Chris could see from his position that the ropes the teen wolf was tied with were smoking slightly where they touched his skin. The boy finally woke up, whining in pain around his gag as he did. Then Allison caught his eye and nodded to somewhere behind Chris and he turned his head and body as much as his bindings would allow. Which wasn’t very much at all, really, but it was enough to see what she was pointing out.

Gerard looked even more like shit than he normally did. Chris probably should have killed the old bastard by now.
“Apologies for the timing, Chris. I’m afraid the ice cream you bought has melted by now. It’s a damn shame; mint chocolate chip is one of my favorites too. But you know, I had you pegged as more of a vanilla guy.” Chris didn’t jump; he had too much training and experience to react so strongly. But he was definitely surprised as he recognized the voice that spoke. The Stilinski boy?

Said teen appeared from around a corner, a placid smile gracing his freckled face. Somehow, it was creepier than if he had looked crazed or angry. Chris wondered what exactly the kid was up to. “Stilinski? What the hell is the meaning of this?! Why have you kidnapped my family? And your best friend?” Stiles interrupted him with a loud scoff, but Chris kept going. “Kid, your father is a cop, you really think-“

“Oh, shut up, you hypocrite.” Stiles interrupted again. “Like you give a damn about kidnapping. Or harming families, for that matter. The time has come for you to listen instead of speaking. For you to be suffer instead of inflicting suffering. Nobody has stood up to you, nobody has made any of you pay for your crimes! Because nothing could be proven! But that doesn’t mean it didn’t goddamn happen, that doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Kate got what was coming to her, but even then, she didn’t really. Simply getting her throat ripped out so quickly wasn’t enough punishment for burning 11 innocent people alive.” Gerard had begun growling angrily the moment Stiles had mentioned Kate’s name and the boy now shot him an amused look. “I’m sure you really enjoyed beating the shit out of me old man,” Chris had the grace to shift uncomfortably at this. “ But I have the power right now. Also, I’ve heard way scarier growls than yours; you can’t even grow fangs. Work on it, dude. Maybe practice in the mirror.” Gerard glared at him, but Stiles just smirked.

Scott started making confused sounding noises, clearly trying to speak to the other teen. But he was just ignored. “Now. I’ve decided that I’ve had enough. Enough of all of your bullshit, enough letting people you walk all over me and the ones I care about. See, I’m goddamn smart. I really am. I hide it some, but it’s true. And I’ve figured out a few things.” He moved then, stepped forward some and in front of the oldest Argent, who was still glaring up at their captor.

Chris tried to stall him, knowing whatever he had planned wouldn’t be good for them. “I thought you cared about Scott, Stiles.” The boy in question made a bunch more noise then, but Stilinski barely reacted.

“Be quiet now please, Chris, or I’ll have to gag you too.” Stiles said, smiling pleasantly. Jesus. “All of you will get your chances to speak. Well, that’s not true. Not all of you. See, this one here?” At that, Stiles kicked Gerard’s bound feet, causing the old man to moan in pain. Chris noticed several slash marks on his legs and the rest of his body, for that matter. He hadn’t even noticed all the blood until then. “His words are poison. He dribbled them into his precious Kate’s ear, convinced her to seduce a 16 year old little werewolf – although, knowing that bitch, I doubt she took much convincing – and he praised her efforts after she burned that boy’s entire family alive. None of them had ever violated your sham of a code, but that didn’t matter. Not to a couple of psychopaths. You know, they say psychopaths who kill have a very…sexual motive behind the murders they commit. How bout it, Gerry boy? Ever slip it to Kitty-Cat?” Chris felt sick, he knew it was a strong possibility. Stiles kept smirking. “I bet you did. Like, really. But it doesn’t matter so much anymore. Like I said, your words are poison. So there’s no chance I’m going to even let you answer. It’s time to save the whole world a boat load of pain.” So fast that the lot of them had no time to react, Stiles pulled a gun with a silencer on it out and shot Gerard right through the forehead. Chris felt surprise at the skill of the shot before it sank it that his father, sadistic as he was, had just been killed right in front of him.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Summary:

And now, it's Scott's turn.
Stiles's POV

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Stiles tucked the gun he had just used to finally get back at the old bastard who had beaten him black and blue back into his pants. He didn’t intend on using it again. He let out a relieved sigh and turned to the others who had wronged him.

Allison and Scott were both squirming, struggling against their bonds and Allison was letting out a seriously obnoxious scream underneath the gag in her mouth. Stiles wished there was a way to put them on mute until he needed them. Chris merely stared straight away, seeming shocked. He was the best of a bad bunch, really. His crimes were not as bad as the others’, but he still needed to answer for what he had helped do to Boyd and Erica. For what he hadn’t done when Gerard had been beating Stiles: stop him. 

“Ooooh Peeeteeeer!” Stiles sing-songed loudly, knowing that Zombie Wolf was in hearing distance. (What he didn’t know is that the man wasn’t alone.)

The undead werewolf sashayed into the room from wherever he had been, likely watching as Stiles laid into the family Peter hated. He smiled at all of them, showing the intimidating fangs he had let drop; those finally shut Allison up.

“Yes dear?” The man was impeccably dressed, despite the fact that Stiles knew he had taken the time after kidnapping the Argents and Scott to slowly slash Gerard up. He hadn’t even bothered to drug the old man like he had the others, just been sure to catch the experienced hunter entirely unawares as he was headed to bed. Hell, the old bastard was still wearing flannel pajamas. He also had smelled faintly of piss when Zombie Wolf had dragged him into the abandoned warehouse, letting him hit every corner they turned down. Stiles was pretty sure it wasn’t Gerard who had pissed himself, but the wolf taking the humiliation a step further.

“Peter, would you be a peach and take care of this nasty old corpse for me? You can dispose of him however you prefer since the fucker definitely doesn’t deserve a proper burial. Personally, I think burning would be the most appropriate, don’t you? I’d recommend displaying him in the town square, but I’d rather not have my dad have to deal with the paperwork, you know?”

Peter’s grin widened. “Of course, Stiles, I’d be happy to burn the bastard. I only wish you’d left him a little bit alive so he could feel it happen like my wife did. Like my daughter did.”

At this, his expression shifted to the most intimidating glare Stiles had seen in a long time and he turned it on Chris Argent, who visibly flinched. Good. Let him remember. Let him drown in pain and guilt and misery for what his family did to the Hales, for what he didn’t stop, and for what he himself has done to the few remaining members of the family.

Peter grabbed a heavy chain from the corner and wrapped it around Gerard’s neck, whistling ‘Ding Dong the Witch is Dead’ from the Wizard of Oz as he worked. He used the chain to drag the corpse behind him as he walked out of the room, leaving a smeared trail of blood on the floor in his wake. Stiles chuckled and turned back to his captured prey.

“Now, back to you guys.” Allison had tears running down her face, but Scott seemed to have regained his courage because he began snarling and wriggling more forcefully. “Oh, don’t bother Scott. Those ropes are infused with mountain ash and soaked in wolfsbane. Why do you think they burn so much? I know more about werewolves than you do. Which brings us to our next act in this play I’ve written.” Stiles moved more a bit closer to his ex-friend and crouched down in front of him.

“Get. The Fuck. Over. Yourself.”

Scott stopped snarling and looked at him, clearly angry, but also confused.

“All you care about is Allison. You were willing to risk becoming an Alpha after a month of being a werewolf, you were so desperate to stick your dick into her! You didn’t care that the odds were completely against you being ‘cured’, that you’d likely just end up on a killing spree because you had absolutely no control and weren’t ready for that kind of power! You would be taking away Derek’s last chance to have a part of his mother, his sister, always with him, to have the Alpha Spirit that had been in the Hale family for hundreds of fucking years! But hey, who the fuck cares, right?! It doesn’t matter as long as Scott McCall gets laid!” Stiles didn’t hear the small whimper come from somewhere on the loft that looked over the large warehouse he’d chosen to teach this lesson; none of them did. But it quietly echoed through the space the moment he brought up Laura and Talia Hale.

“Since you got oh-so-‘tragically’ bitten by Peter that night in the woods, you have been nothing but a whiny, self-obsessed, stupid asshole who can’t even seem to crawl out of Allison’s pants long enough to realize when the people you supposedly care about are about to be killed!”

Stiles was so angry with Scott, he was practically snarling himself despite being human. “I almost had to cut off Derek’s arm because you were too busy with Allison. Derek had to fend off Hunters by himself because you just had to skip school and spend the day in the woods with Allison. I had to hold up Derek in the school pool for two goddamn hours while the kanima circled it, waiting for any chance to kill us. And you know, I shouldn’t have had to do that. It could have been prevented.” Stiles leaned in closer to Scott and whispered, “Do you remember how?”

Scott was gagged still, but even so, he didn’t try to respond. He just started at Stiles, obviously startled by the amount of vitriol in his former friend’s voice. Stiles stared back, searching the beta’s eyes for any sign of recognition. Finding none – of fucking course not – he scoffed and leaned back again.

“Yeah, I thought not. I fucking called you, you self-centered dick! I called you and you hung up on me! Because You. Were. With. Allison. Well, you’re with her again now. Aren’t we having so much fun!” Stiles was wearing a grin, but there was rage sparkling in his amber colored eyes.

“And then there was your even bigger betrayal. Working with Gerard fucking Argent. Sacrificing Derek to him all because he promised you the chance to get back into Allison’s good graces, to get back into her fucking pants. What was it he called her again? Oh yeah. ‘The ultimate prize.’ Apparently ultimate enough to throw all of your loyalties out the window along with those morals you claim to cling to so tightly. Because it didn’t matter to you that Derek would die, that his pack would be tortured. That the man you were allied with dragged me into his basement and showed me Erica and Boyd, strung up as they were electrocuted before he proceeded to beat me until my face looked like ground beef.” Scott flinched then, but Stiles really didn’t give a damn anymore.

“The best part is it was all for fucking nothing, wasn’t it Scott? Because that skirt you were so desperately chasing, like a fucking dog chases a car, didn’t even want you back. Allison called werewolves ‘monsters’. And despite your best efforts, you are a werewolf. So, I got the shit beat out of me for nothing. You let the Argents have Erica and Boyd for nothing. And you almost sacrificed Derek, who despite his harshness, truly did nothing but try to help you, even called you his brother, for fucking nothing.”

The grin was gone from Stiles’s face at this point. He stood from his crouch and glared down at Scott; the fire in his eyes could melt steel. “Try that again and I’ll destroy you, years of friendship or no. Derek doesn’t deserve any of the things you’ve done to him.” He looks at Chris and Allison. “None of the things that any of you have done to him.”

At this point, Allison starts vehemently protesting behind her gag and the funny part is, she’s so damn predictable that Stiles knows exactly what she’s trying to rant about. But he’ll get to her in due time.

Notes:

This chapter is a bit shorter than I intended, but I got to a good stopping point, so.
Next up! Allison's turn.

http://dammitbilinski.tumblr.com

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Summary:

Allison's turn.
Stiles's POV.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Stiles smirked at the struggling, noise-making Allison and stood from his crouch.

“Yeah yeah, you crazy bitch. I know. ‘But Stiles, the Hales killed my Auntie Kate! But Stiles, the Hales ruined my life! But Stiles, Derek killed my precious mommy! And that makes him the devil! You don’t know what you’re talking about or how I feel, it’s not like your mommy’s been dead for years or anything’”

Stiles sing-songed his impression of Allison in a mocking falsetto voice, but as soon as he mentioned his own mother, he scoffed derisively, his smile dropped and his glare turned glacial. Even Scott winced because he knew what Stiles looked like when any and all compassion had run out.

“Let’s get one thing clear real quick, alright? The fact that recently you have decided to imitate Kate Argent so closely, dressing like her, fighting like her, thinking like her as you hunt down werewolves who don’t satisfy the requirements of your bullshit code, just like she did?” Stiles sneered at Allison, making his opinion clear.

“Yeah, it’s disgusting. You’ve decided to emulate a woman who wasn’t even a woman at all; she was nothing but a statutory rapist with a fucking Mata Hari complex.” Stiles head cocked lightly as he thought he heard a small sound come from somewhere behind and above him, but he was on a roll and ignored it. It was probably a bird or something; it’s not like the warehouse he picked for his little production was the Ritz. In fact, he was pretty sure the whole building was condemned. Oh well.

“See, I’m surprised you went off the deep end so damn easily. If all it took for me to turn into a psychopath with an armory was the death of my mother, well, I’d have been on a killing rampage for years now. Which is another thing,” Stiles crossed his arms and leaned in towards Allison a bit while remaining standing, being sure to look her dead in the eye.

“I know that all you’ve got for a brain is one rather useless three pound ball of snot, made up of nothing but what every psychopath-in-training needs to know to be a piece of shit, but try real hard to get this through that thick skull of yours, alright? Derek. Did not. Kill. Your. Mother. 

Allison attempted to snarl behind her gag; Stiles raised one eyebrow and remained thoroughly unimpressed.

Honestly, he was surprised Chris, who remained able to speak, wasn’t protesting as well. But the man just stared at the ground for this part, looking defeated. And remorseful. Stiles got the impression that Chris knew what had gone down and just how wrong his family’s side of the argument was. 

So, Stiles crouched down again between father and daughter and leaned in towards Chris a bit. “You know, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer, just continued staring at the ground.

“She told you what she’d done to get herself bitten, right? Told you just how she’d singlehandedly destroyed your family because she couldn’t handle her only daughter fucking a werewolf?” Scott growled from behind his gag, but Stiles just rolled his eyes at him. “Calm down Fido, you’re not intimidating anybody.”

Allison was glaring at Stiles and he grinned at her, leaning away from Chris and schooching over a bit so he was crouching in front of the baby hunter.

“That cold hearted bitch killed herself. Derek didn’t do it. And I don’t give a flying fuck about your so called code; why should I? It’s not like anyone in your own family believes it. You only adhere to it when it suits you. Like with your mother’s suicide; it certainly suited old pappy Gerard then. He was able to use her death to manipulate you into becoming Kate 2.0. And like a brainless idiot, you let him.”

The stare Stiles was directing at Allison could freeze the Earth’s core. All the anger and disgust Stiles been feeling for the Argents since that night Scott was bitten in the woods, since he began abandoning his so called best friend to chase Allison’s skirt like a panting dog chasing a juicy bone, since he watched over and over as this sadistic family did everything it could to destroy the life of Derek, guy who had never really hurt anybody at all? All that anger and disgust was boiling over. And there was no putting the lid back onto the pot.

“Did you ever even stop and at least try to think for yourself? Or did you just swallow every single bit of shit that Gerard fed you about this pack? Hmm? My money’s on the latter. You didn’t even bother to stop and think ‘Gee, I wonder why all of a sudden, a wolf that’s only ever really fought my family defensively decided to jump my mother out of the blue, drag her out of her car, since she obviously wasn’t fighting or hurting anyone, pull her over to the side of the warehouse where Scott was randomly almost suffocating and bite her smack on the shoulder! That’s not odd behavior at all, perfectly in line with Derek’s character.”

The falsetto voice was back and based on her expression, Allison really did not appreciate the impression of her, but Stiles really couldn’t give fewer fucks. That’s how few fucks he already gave.

Stiles remained crouched in front of the bitch, but returned to using his own voice. He wasn’t through with her yet.

“Derek bit your mother, yes, but for a goddamn good reason. You see, that crazy bitch had made herself a wolfsbane vaporizer. She knocked Scott out and dragged him into a tiny room with it so that she could kill him and make his death look like it was caused by an asthma attack. Derek saved him. Hell, he wouldn’t have even bitten her if he hadn’t been so damn disoriented because of the device that the bitch was using to kill Scott! But even if it had been an intentional bite, your mother’s actual death would still be on her own damn hands. Because she was going to turn. She was going to become a wolf.”

Stiles chuckled a bit. “I guess though that she was just too disgusted by that thought to stick around, to be with her family. To remain your mother. I guess it all just boils down to her priorities. And you know what those are.” Stiles maintained eye-contact with Allison, staring straight into her soul and refusing to even blink.

“The truth of it, Allison, is something I think you’ve already realized, you just don’t want to accept. The truth of it is your mother hated werewolves more than she loved you. And so rather than be there for you and live as a wolf, she drove a knife into her heart.”

Allison quieted and stilled for a moment, but started struggling again soon. Stiles could clearly see the ‘You’re a liar!’ written in her eyes. Well, hey, why not let her make her case?

He smirked and leaned forward, untying the gag while being sure to keep his fingers out of biting range.

 

Notes:

Next up, we hear the weak arguments of Allison and Scott. And the flawless Lydia makes an appearance!

http://dammitbilinski.tumblr.com
follow me! drop me a line! lick me on the face and I will return the favor, my little minions!