Sometime in the night Stiles had managed to fall asleep with his back against the wall and his knees still hugged to his chest. It was uncomfortable and awkward, but it was the best sleep he had gotten all month. Faintly, Stiles heard the scrape of his window being opened but didn't hear anyone crawling in, of course. He kept his eyes clothes and tried to adjust himself without lying down. The pain in his but was dull and barely there now but he sat to remind himself of the reason people would forever hate him. The pain helped him realize that no matter what, he may never be loved, and he was just trying to come to terms with that. Stiles felt a light tap on his shoulder but brushed it off as vivid imagination, until the brush came again. This time he opened his eyes and saw a guy that was bigger than him much like one of the men who raped him. Swiftly he pulled the knife from his pillow and the gun from the nightstand drawer; he crossed his hand like he'd seen done in movies multiple times. The stranger put his hands up as if to say he wasn't a threat. Stiles blinked a few times and more people came into focus. It was the pack. He looked directly at Derek, the man he was about to stab and/or shoot.

"You told them? I told you not to tell them! What the fuck is your problem? I know dogs that listen better than you!" Derek ignored the dog joke because he knew it was a defense mechanism.

"You. Knew?" Scott looked at Derek who nodded with a barely audible 'yes.' "You knew my best friend was raped a month ago, and you didn't think it was worth mentioning?"
Derek silenced him with a glare before he began speaking. "Yes I knew, he asked me not to tell, so didn't' tell. Hell, he doesn't even count you as a best friend anymore let alone a friend, so calm down with the possessive bullshit, we all see right through it, even Stiles."

"When someone tells you to keep their rape a secret, you don't fucking listen to them! And then you had the nerve to act like you didn't know right to Mr. Stilinksi's face? You are all kinds of twisted."

By now Stiles was cowering under his desk with his knife in his hand. Allison and Lydia were trying, unsuccessfully, to coax him out from his position. Jackson tried to help by putting his hand on his shoulder only for Stiles to let out the loudest scream and swiping his knife in front of him. This caught the bickering wolves' attentions. Jackson looked around with a dear in headlights expression.

"I swear I didn't do anything. I just touched his shoulder to try to get him out from under there." He held up his hands as if that would prove his innocence. Stiles pushed further against the wall before talking.

"Do not fucking touch me, Jackson. You've bullied me all my life; you are the last person I want with their hands on me. It could have been you that night..." Stiles trailed off and his breathing increased. He felt his hands getting clammy and his breaths were shallower and more frequent. He was having a panic attack. He continued like this for another minute then passed out cold, hand still gripping the knife.

When he came to, Derek, Jackson, Danny and Scott were sitting around him while Lydia and Allison sat at the top of his bed dabbing his forehead with a cool rag.

"No, no. Get away from me." his mind was flashing back to that night. "I can't give you what you want." Stiles began kicking and flailing at the guys around him.

Jackson, stupid as ever, pressed his body to Stiles' to prevent more kicking. Of course Stiles kneed him in his balls. The impact forced him to fall completely on the flailing boy. Stiles took this chance and plunged the knife directly into Jackson's side and pushed him off. He quickly got up and rushed to the bathroom when he realized what he did.

Derek sent the pack downstairs to help Jackson leaving himself to be alone with Stiles. Ever so gently, he knocked on the bathroom door and heard the sniffled 'go away.'

"I'm not going away. I'm not leaving 'til we talk. We can talk through the door though. If you want; if that makes you feel better." Derek coaxed. After a few minutes of sniffling on the other side of the door, Stiles began to talk.

"I didn't mean to do it. He came down on me. I could only see what happened that night and then he came now on me. I only did it because it was a reaction. I would never intentionally hurt on of your pack members. I'm sorry, Derek. Please don't hate me." Stiles whimpered.

"Stiles, you're just saying that. You're saying you would never hurt one of my pack, but you're doing exactly that. Don't you see? You keep hurting yourself by not allowing yourself to get help."


"No matter what you think, Stiles, you are pack. I understand that you're broken, but if you just let us, we can help you."

"Don't you get it? Jackson bullies me, every day of my miserable life. It could have been him that night raping me, pushing me into the dirt, spitting on me, kicking me, punching me. It could have been…him." Stiles' voice trailed off and the whimpers began again. This time, Derek let him. "But no matter what, he's not the only one. Danny doesn't stop him. Scott looks at me like I'm trash. Lydia makes fun of me for things I can't control or change, and Allison kills you with kindness, but talks behind your back. Don't you get it, Derek? I'm not meant to be in your pack, and I'm coming to terms with that, so just leave. Please."

"No." Came Derek's Alpha voice. The Alpha stood up and opened the bathroom door (why Stiles hadn't locked it was beyond him). He walked straight to the teen that was in yet another corner. Derek picked up the boy and hugged him to his chest. Stiles shoved the knife into Derek's side; Derek seemed unnerved by the sensation. "I'm an Alpha, Stiles. That won't hurt me. You can't continue to be like this. I understand you don't like us. I'll deal, but you can't do this to your father. He's been drinking again. The place reeks of alcohol; help him. If not for you, do it for your mother." Derek hit a soft spot and now had a crying teen in his arms. He picked him up and took him to his bed; lay him down and stayed with him; rubbed his back and shushed him. This went on until Stiles fell asleep. About an hour later the pack came up to let Derek know they were leaving. Eventually, Derek fell asleep, too, holding unto Stiles in his slumber. And that's how the Sheriff found them, curled around each other with Derek's had subconsciously rubbing Stiles' back.

The Sheriff felt as if finally, someone had gotten through to Stiles. He only hoped this would last.

Ok, I'm not too happy with this chapter and I feel like I need to do a better ending to the story, so there may be another chapter. Even though this was supposed to be strictly a one-shot, but who cares. Since there's gonna be another chapter, and I updated the first three within a week. I figured you guys wouldn't hate me that much if I waited maybe a week to update. At least I hope not.