Set after season 2, ignores any and all season 3, Stiles has ignored part of himself for so long and as he ends up abandoned by everyone he can't ignore it any longer, but maybe that's a good thing, oh and a certain creeper wolf keeps crawling through his window
Warnings: Angst, Trans!Stiles, BiGender, Two-Spirit, Stiles!Stella, Crossdressing (But not really), Gender Identity Issues, Mentions suicide,
Don't like don't read, though constructive criticism is always welcome (plus any reviews).
I own nothing, literally.
Stiles Stella Stilinski (Or Finding Out Who You Really Are)
Parking up my jeep I drag myself from her and sling my bag over my shoulder, I stare up at my house and notice that dad's cruiser isn't there, no big surprise.
Letting myself in I don't bother putting on any of the lights and navigate through the house and up the stairs in the dark, maybe then I can pretend I'm not all alone.
In my room I do flick the lights on, and nothings changed, just like it never does, like it hasn't since the first month of my junior year and now tonight's the Winter Formal. I have no one to go with and no one would talk to me if I went stag.
Making sure my window is locked I pull the blind and fall back onto my bed.
I can't believe Scott's being such a dick over this, I refuse to apologise to Allison, it's not my fault her psychotic grandpa dragged me into their basement to beat the crap out of me, so I think it's unfair of them to expect me to be happy when I went over to hang out with them there, just because they've gotten back together and make out all the time doesn't mean I want to watch them stick their tongues down each other's throats, especially not in that house.
Sighing I roll over and wince as my bruises pull.
He's not spoken to me except to ask if I'm ready to apologise, so far I've said no, so that's that then.
I've also finally met someone who's a bigger dick than Jackson, Trent is a new kid and because of him I got kicked off of the lacrosse squad, he's the new bright star and he hates me. My bruises are courtesy of him and his two cronies who like slamming me into lockers.
Jackson and Lydia are sickeningly into each other and still rule the school through a mixture of being too pretty, fear, and ruthlessly climbing to the top of the social pile.
Derek and his puppies are all avoiding me because I'm part of Scott's pack, which is weird because I've been kicked out of his pack, except Derek's trust issues have him thinking it's all a trick.
I wish it was a trick.
But at least it means I don't have to be around Peter and have him stare at me in that creepy way, or have him send me compliments and mention how he 'likes me'.
Getting up I pace downstairs and into the kitchen, I dig around for some food, I don't bother cooking, I hate cooking for one. Dad won't be back until stupid o'clock and then he'll roll back out at ass o'clock in the morning. It's his way of dealing with me since all the crap from last school year. We're getting around it by him ignoring me.
I can't find anything I really want to eat and my stomach is in knots so I don't bother eating.
Collapsing in the living room I channel surf and we have what feels like a trillion channels and nothing on any of them. The radio's a bust too, the local station keeps harping on about the dance tonight.
Stuck with my own thoughts I know the lacrosse team has been let off practice this afternoon, which only reminds me that once I'd lost lacrosse I tried out every single club in the damn high school, I'd even broken down and tried chemistry club with Mr Harris, and the exploding incident has only cemented his hatred of me. I never lasted longer than a week in any of them before I was shown the door. I'm going down as the most disliked student in the history of Beacon Hills.
Turning off the radio the silence becomes oppressive. Because I can't hide from myself so easily.
In the quiet, in the dark, alone, I have that thought again, the one I try to pretend doesn't exist, the part of me I try and deny is even there. When Scott was around I could ignore it, I could drown it out with Stiles, I could be so busy being Stiles, being male, being masculine that it was only a whisper. But right now the whisper is really loud, the part of me that is female, feminine and liked Lydia because of the pretty things she wore is shouting for attention.
I last a whole five seconds and then I'm locking up the house, dad won't be back until late and there is no one else in my pathetic empty life. I check every lock, then I steal upstairs and check all the windows and locks. Every curtain is pulled and then I go for a shower, a long shower, afterwards I use the unscented body lotion, and with werewolves around I make sure its extra unscented, I can't let a stray sniff betray me, they'd never understand.
When the lotion is rubbed in and my skin feels softer, I wrap a towel around my waist and sneak to my room, rummaging in my closet I take the bag out, and I grab a coat hanger then I sneak back locking the bathroom door behind me.
The bathroom is the only place with a decent mirror in it.
With trembling hands I reverently and gently take the dress and panties from the bag and wince when I see the creases on the dress. Its a simple cream dress with a cream bow that does up around the middle. I got it three towns over and in a sale, the assistants gave me a weird look but seemed to believe me when I said it was for my girlfriend, and I asked if I could have a receipt in case she didn't like it and I had to return it.
The plain cotton cream panties were harder to get my hands on without my dad finding out, but I did it.
Slipping the panties on I slide them up my far too hairy legs, it's moments like this I wish I had Jackson's blond hair, then my legs wouldn't show so much. Tucking my dick into the panties I'm unhappy with the bulge, I'm male most of the time so getting rid of it isn't an option, I'm going to have to learn how to do it properly so it doesn't show.
Unzipping the back of the dress I hook the coat hanger onto the zip and then step into the material puddled on the floor, shimmying it up and over my hips I put my arms in the thick shoulder straps, then I awkwardly twist about to grab the coat hanger and I can do the dress up, a handy tip I found on the internet.
Taking the coat hanger off again, I fiddle with the dress until it's sitting just right and the bow is tied around my waist. Now I can breathe out a much softer sigh.
I know I'm me, I'm Stiles, all male, but I'm also Stella all at the same time and I'm female. I'm much more Stiles than I am Stella, and traits that seem feminine or masculine are all part of me in one big package with no dividing line. But lately I've needed to let this part of me out more, Stella still has ADHD, is clumsy and a spaz, but when I'm me and I'm letting the girl me out I feel delicate and desirable, I can watch chick flicks without worrying about my man card being revoked and ripped up in front of me, I can embrace the quieter, gentler, softer side of me and revel in it.
Locked away in the safety and privacy of my home I can forget all about school, all about the loneliness, all about the supernatural and just let it all go, just be me and the freedom to be me makes me smile and start to hum, I feel like cooking now, I'll probably batch cook and freeze the results, put the laundry in piles, and I'll watch TV and do homework.
Smoothing my hands down the dress I know this simple garment is a god send for me, I'm thinking of taking extra classes, anything to graduate early and escape from Beacon Hills, dad'll be happier when I'm no longer reminding him of what a disappointment I am, he'll be home more because I won't be, and no one else here wants me.
I refuse to be negative when I'm wearing my pretty dress. I check myself out in the mirror and its not quite right, my dick luckily doesn't show and the dress isn't tight, I don't like tight on me, I like looser longer dresses, the sweet dresses because the part of me that's Stella is sweet, and nice, and polite, all the things that Stiles left behind after mom died.
Twirling I regret my dress doesn't flair out and float but it's my first dress and I love it. I don't cup my chest aware of the boobs that aren't there, I'm looking into getting fake ones I can put in a bra, and god knows how I'll get the right bra or the fakes bits to put in it but I'm working on it.
My feet are bare and I want to put them in stockings, in tights, to put sandals and boots on my feet. Nothing with too high a heel or I'll kill myself with my clumsiness.
In the mirror I see my normal short hair, I've grown it out a little, but I want long hair sometimes, long and straight, or long with a wave in it, I want to put it up in ponytails, or thread hair accessories in it. The rest of the time I want it short like this.
I also want hats to wear, hats with those big floppy wide brims, and maybe in summer I can have bonnets that do up under my chin.
I'm also exceedingly aware that my idea of me as a girl is kinda outdated, but I want to indulge so badly, nearly all the women that have been in my life have been these amazing strong powerful individuals, but soft and feminine too, and I want to be that and male me all at the same time.
I'm fairly sure it makes me a bigger freak than being a werewolf ever could. I daren't tell anyone about it, about me.
I don't understand me, how can I expect anyone else to understand and accept me?
Summoning positive thoughts about leaving Beacon Hills, of having my own apartment and a few pretty dresses like this, I daydream about being able to wear what I want when I want, of being a pretty girl and a great guy and just being me.
Picking up the bag and hanger, I put the towel on the rail and humming a tune I dance into the hall and then into my room, I shiver as the colder night air flows over my arms, I'll close the window in a minute, I want to twirl first, to dance like I'm graceful and like my dress flairs out like they do on TV.
Stopping in mid twirl I stare at my open window in horror and get to see a stunned Peter Hale sitting on my computer chair staring back at me, I've never seen him with his jaw dropped open like that, it's slightly satisfying, in a frightening way.
I may squeak in surprise and I try to recover before he can, "Mr Hale!" Oh my god, my Stella side is showing, I think and talk a little differently even though I'm the same person, panicking I point to my open bedroom window, "Please leave!"
"Stiles?" His voice is strained and squeaky too. "Stiles is that you?"
"Yes," I cross my arms defensively, "Now leave, you know where the window is situated."
Except he doesn't leave instead he moves so fast he has me backed against my now closed bedroom door before I can say anything and then he starts to sniff me, "You smell like Stiles."
"That's because I am Stiles," I retaliate and then he stiffens.
"Lie, you just lied," blue eyes catch hold of mine and change to glowing blue eyes, "Who are you?" He snarls it and his teeth are growing.
Oh my god.
How do these things happen to me?
"I am Stiles, but I'm also Stella," I admit because I don't want my throat ripped out because of a mistake on my gender, which I still don't know, because am I male or female? Or both? Or neither?
"Stella?" He studies me and takes a step back as I lean against the door and let it hold me up, my knees are shaking so hard right now, he scares the shit out of me on an ordinary day, but when he's being extra scary, like now for example I just want to run away from him and never come back.
"Yes," I hiss like he's the slow one, "I'm still male but I'm female too, at the same time, it's easier to think of it as Stiles and Stella, the same person at the same time in the same body, but whether I'm more Stiles or Stella is fluid and changes," I don't know how else to explain it to him.
He cocks his head to one side, "And right now you're more Stella," he guesses and I nod waiting for him to laugh at me and make fun of me, "Hmm, then I apologise for manhandling a lady and for breaking into your boudoir without permission," he takes more steps back from me and I find my hand in his as he lifts it up to press a kiss to my knuckles.
"Mr Hale!" I try and pull my hand from his but he smiles wolfishly at me and tugs on my hand to draw me forward.
"Oh my dear Miss Stilinski," I ignore the way my heart thumps when he simply acknowledges me as female, "I just have a few questions for you first, and then I promise to leave and you can continue your evening unhindered by my uninvited presence," he says it calmly, and I can't hear the mocking or the judgement in his voice, so I let him lead me over to the foot of my bed, and I sit as gracefully as I can, I even cross my ankles, which he notices and nods at.
He sits back down at my desk, "I humbly request a copy of the research you've done on the new creature that is trespassing in Beacon Hills," Peter's being polite and he has that urbane nice smile in place.
There's a new creature?
"I'm sorry Mr Hale, but I know nothing about any creature, Scott doesn't talk to me anymore, what creature are we talking about?" No one tells me anything, I'm so out of the loop I don't even know if there are any bodies, "Has it killed yet?" Oh god, what if dad is out there right now and he gets hurt because I didn't know about it and it'll be all my fault, "My father is at work right now, is he hunting it too?"
"Please Miss Stilinski," he raises his hands for me to calm down, "There are no dead bodies, yet, we are doing what we can to minimise any loss of life, we were under the mistaken assumption Scott would have at least shared this with you."
I shake my head, "No, he's not talking to me at all, though he's friendly with Jackson and Lydia, perhaps Lydia knows something? She has a fully translated copy of the Bestiary, while I only have a partially translated copy."
He snorts, "I think Miss Martin would happily carve out my heart and eat it before handing me that copy," and I can totally see that happening. "Though even a partial translation is better than nothing."
I don't want to give it to him, and this could be a trick, this is Peter Hale master manipulator after all. But what if it could save my dad? And I'm apparently pathetic enough to want to thank him for accepting me as I am and not making fun of me.
"Very well," I agree to give it to him, "But I ask that you watch out for my father."
"I will where I can," he hedges and I suppose that's more than I had. I go over to my laundry basket and turn it upside down, right at the bottom I added a layer and suck to it is the flash drive with a copy of the Bestiary on it. The smell of my laundry would have protected it from noses that smell too well.
"Here Mr Hale," I walk over to him aware that I move differently when I'm Stella.
"Peter, please," he takes the drive from me and his hand lingers on mine, as he rises to his feet, "Thank you for your help Miss Stilinski."
I guess it's stupid for him to keep calling me by my surname but I do get a thrill from him calling me 'Miss', of his acceptance of me, as upset as I am that there's some kinda thing loose in Beacon Hills, there's a tiny seed of hope that maybe I'm not so freaky for being me after all.
"Please call me Stella, or Stiles," I concede, and I know I speak archaically but I love to talk anyway and I love period dramas, Pride and Prejudice is one of my favourites, it's something about the way they speak that I love.
"Perhaps I should simply call you angel, for are you not fairer than a heavenly being?" Oh my god he's flirting with me and I tug my hand from his and I blush, damn it, I am not interested in an insane zombie werewolf who's got a proven track record of being a psycho. Anyway all Hales can use charm to get what they want I'm not falling for that trick.
"I have no idea what you're talking about Mr Hale," he pulls a face at me calling him that so I add, "Peter," he nods and smiles at me, "I assure you I'm just a plain mortal human, and this human wishes you well in tracking down whatever it is and encouraging it to leave forthwith." Oh my god I just spoke a sentence with 'forthwith' in it out loud.
He chuckles and his blue eyes twinkle at me, "Oh my lady, I would happily teach the creature the error of its ways and I know with your favour I could best it easily," he smirks and breaks into more modern speech when he adds, "Well, after I've researched it and found it's weakness, there's no need to rush headlong into danger after all."
I roll my eyes at him and he laughs again, he seems so harmless when he wants to, but I know he's extremely dangerous and I wait for him to leave, which he actually does, he even gives me a little bow, "Fair thee well Stella, I do hope you have a most pleasurable evening and that I haven't interrupted you too much."
"I believe I'll recover," I tell him dryly, "May your evening be fruitful and I hope you find the answers you seek Peter."
He's backing up to the window and I'm doubley hopeful that I'm going to get out of this intact, that he won't say anything about me also being a girl, or that he's seen me in a dress that I am all too aware doesn't fit me the way it should.
And then he stiffens and says, "Derek…"
My eyes swing from him to the open window and I reach behind me and yank the zipper down, there's a tearing sound but I'm so busy struggling out of the dress and throwing it to one side to hide it that I don't inspect the damage, I'm sure I can sew it up though, I'm sure I can fix it, it can't be that hard to sew things.
I can't let Derek see this, he wouldn't understand, he'd get it wrong, he'll mock me, he hates me so he'll tell everyone my secret, and they'll judge me, but worst of all they'll judge my dad and he could lose his job again because of me.
Grabbing the first pair of pants I find, I drag them on and I can see Peter is valiantly trying to defend my window from Derek, he's standing in the way and blocking the view, "Nephew, I have a copy of the Argent's Bestiary, we can go now, it should have more information for me…"
I've got a t-shirt part way on when Peter is forcefully thrown back a good five feet and he goes crashing down onto my floor as a very annoyed Derek Hale finishes climbing in my window, "I want to know what the Argents and Scott are planning."
"Scott isn't talking to Stiles," Peter stays on the floor and bares his throat, "You know what the children have said, Scott's angry with his friend, and you've heard the stories of how Stiles has tried out every club in high school. We'll have to ask Scott what he knows…"
That doesn't go down well because Derek is advancing on me and I squeak in a useless way, and instead of standing my ground, near my dress, I try to flee, to lead him away from the dress. It is a dumb idea, it is a really dumb idea.
I barely reach my closed door when I'm grabbed and slammed into my wall, rough hands hold me and then my back meets my wall as Derek leans into my face, his eyes are red, his teeth are longer than they should be, "Stiles," he growls my name into my face.
Only I'm Stiles, but I'm not Stiles right now, I'm far more Stella than I am Stiles. Stiles would talk his way out of this, he'd babble but my Stella side is quieter and I struggle to make the switch back, except Derek isn't giving me a chance and its so new to me to let that part out I don't know how to put it back quickly.
I'm shoved into the wall again and I hiss as it catches the bruises I've already gotten courtesy of Trent and co. "Stiles," Derek is building himself up to something and knowing him it could be anything. I stare into his eyes and I don't know what to say to him, or what to do to make him go away and not look at my dress.
Then he leans forward and sniffs me, his nose wrinkles, "What is that smell? Are you wearing lotion?" He frowns at me and sniffs again, then he sniffs the air and starts to turn around, "Its somewhere else in the room too…"
Damn it that stuff was supposed to be unscented.
Oh god he can smell the unscented lotion on the dress, the only thing I can think off is to wiggle in his grip to distract him and it works as he slams me back a third time, it seems to help him focus because he shakes his head and then menaces me, "Tell me what Scott and the Argents are planning, what do they know Stiles, tell me," he practically yells in my face and dog breath is not pleasant.
"Derek," Peter's crouching on the floor, "You're hurting Stiles, you're frightening Stiles…"
"Good," and Derek looms a bit more over me. I get shaken in his grasp, "Maybe it'll loosen his tongue and he'll stop this ridiculous game of pretending he and Scott are broken up," only its not a game, "So Stiles, lets try this again, tell me what you know."
I might be frightened of him but I refuse to back down to him and I shove my hands uselessly against his chest, "I don't know anything about their plans, the first I knew anything about a possible creature was when Peter decided to turn up uninvited in my room. I've given him a copy of the Bestiary, it's only partially translated but it should help."
"Really," Derek's eyes are red again, that's not usually a good sign, "So you expect me to believe that Scott just cut you out of his life like you mean nothing to him," and that hurts because its true, Scott has done that. "You expect me to believe that Scott hasn't come running so that you can do some emergency research for him," he snorts, "I really don't believe you Stiles, we've bumped into them and they've clearly done their research."
They have Lydia.
"And might I remind you Mr Hale, that they also have access to Miss Martin, and I cannot begin to heap enough praises on her for her intelligence and brilliance, perhaps you should be asking her what her research is," I point out and he blinks at me.
"Miss Martin?" His voice is soft. Then he straightens his shoulders, "So she's smarter than you are? Better than you are?" And that strikes several raw nerves.
"Yes," I admit and when his hands let me go I breathe out and get hopeful that he's going to leave.
"Fine," he smirks at me and I breathe out again, he's going to leave, I'm safe, and even he wouldn't dare manhandle Lydia, she'd castrate him, she is one scary ice cold lady. "But you're hiding something from me," and my eyes glance at the dress guilty.
I realise my slip the moment he spins around and then he's over by the dress and lifting it up, "No," I whimper and move forward a step ready to take on the big bad Alpha for my dress. It's my first dress, it's special, it's perfect, I don't care that it doesn't fit right, its mine, it makes me feel like a girl.
He sniffs it, "The same lotion," he smiles that smile and I brace myself for the worst, "Do you wear dresses in your spare time Stiles?" He's mocking me, he's laughing at me, he's judging me.
"Derek!" Peter's frozen on his knees and is glaring at his nephew, "Enough, we have information we can use, we should leave."
My eyes are glued to Derek's hands, the hands that are growing claws and those claws pierce the material of the dress and I whimper again, he lifts the dress up towards his face, "Stiles, you'd better not be lying to me, or…" and I can only watch as he shreds my dress with his claws. The sound is horrifying the fabric screaming under those razor sharp knives. Little strips of cream cloth flutter to the ground and my own legs give out as I cry out at what he's done.
"No, no, my dress," I crawl forward on all fours to snatch up the pieces of my dress, "No, no, no, please, no," my face is wet as I clutch the tattered remains of that beautiful pretty dress that made me feel more whole than I have done for years.
Dark jeans and boots come into view and then Derek's saying, "I think you need to get out more Stiles, locking yourself inside to play dress up with women's clothing is just weird."
"Derek!" Peter's voice is cold and hard, "Leave Stiles alone."
"Fine, now we have the Bestiary its not like we have a use for him anymore, we can deal with the problem without him getting in the way, I never did trust him," I flinch at that, "And he's never been normal."
I go completely numb and sit there staring at the broken pieces of me on the floor, I wait for the click of my window and the chill wind stops blowing in my room. Numb I stand and go to get a brush. I collect all the pieces of my dress and put them in the bag I used to keep it in.
Numb I walk to the bathroom and strip down, I put the panties in the bag too. Then I tie it up in a knot. Stepping into the shower I turn it on and when the water hits my face I thaw out and I'm no longer numb as I scream in pain.
I fall to the floor of the bath and curl up to rock myself, scream and sob. There's no one to hear me, no one to comfort me, no one to care, I'm all alone, and I'm a freak, a weird freak, who only gets in the way.
I'm not sure how long I stay there but the water goes cold and I'm shivering from it when I turn off the water. I dry myself off and then I pull on the pants and t-shirt from earlier. Going downstairs I walk across the garden and dump the bag with my ruined dress and the panties in the trash.
Back inside the house I lock up, again, and go to my room, I draw the blind down and then I turn the light off. Curling up on top of my covers I stare blankly at the blinds and wait for morning.
I hear dad come home, I hear him complain about the lack of hot water and I hear him curse my name. I hear him leave at five o'clock and I wait for my alarm to go off.
I get up and put socks on, get my bag ready for school and I cram a slice of bread in my mouth to have with my Adderall, because I'm a medicated freak who's brain doesn't work properly, that must be part of my problem, part of why I'm so wrong.
I push down the part of me that's female and I drive to school. It's not until I'm climbing out of my jeep that I spot Derek across the parking lot, he's standing with Isaac and he looks my way.
Jerking my head away I flush with shame, I'm so wrong, unnatural, I know its okay for girls to wear boys' clothes, but not the other way around, it doesn't matter than I'm weird and think I might be part girl, it only matters that I'm not normal, that I'm defective and wrong.
Wrapping my arms around my middle my feet drag as I walk into school and I try and avoid everyone, it won't take long for them to find out about me, to realise just how much of a freak I am, Derek will tell his Betas and then they'll tell the school, and then dad will find out and he'll hate me forever, he might even lose his job because of this.
Because of me.
Some son I turned out to be, I bet he wishes I were dead, I bet he wishes I'd never been born, I know I do.
A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.
No hate on Scott or Derek please, I've written this a particular way for a reason.