Be Good For Papa

chapter 1.

Everyday Stiles dreads going home. Going home meant he had to see his "father" the man who beats him, rapes him, calls him terrible names, and treats him as if was worth nothing more than the dirt under his boots. And all because Stiles likes boys. Everyone knows, its not a secret; Stiles' like for the same-sex is known by practically everyone.

Even though his dad is abusive, he is still his father and Stiles loves him, he just doesn't know what he did to deserve getting beaten. He thought his dad was suppose to love him, treat him like a human, be there for him when he needs him most; and most importantly he thought his dad was suppose to except him.

As Stiles slowly made his way back to his house he thought about all the bad words that would be hurdled his way as soon as the door opened. The only saving grace was that maybe, possibly, someone had been murdered; that would at least get his dad out of the house for a few hours. Stiles only friend, Scott, didn't even know about the abuse that he suffered at the hands of his father. Scott didn't know about the scars lining Stiles thighs, arms, and stomach. Scott didn't know that every night Stiles laid awake thinking about their love that could never be... All because of Isaac Lahey.

As soon as Stiles walked through the door he could already hear the glass breaking. Great, his dad had already started on the liquor. It was going to be a long night of pain, torture, and tears. He could only hope that his dad had already drank enough that he would pass out quickly. Stiles walked in and tried to make as little noise as possible. "Stiles? Is that you? Are you already home?" His dad asked in a drunken slurr.

Stiles sighed and looked heaven ward, "Yes, Dad I'm home."

His dad smiled and pulled the liquor bottle from his lips, setting it on the coffee table. "Come here then, my boy. Lets have a chat."

Stiles walked into the living room slowly, looking at the bottles and glasses that had been broken and scattered on the floor. His heart broke when he saw a broken picture frame, a photo of him and his mother inside. He swallowed hard before sitting down on the couch, next to his father.

"Y-yeah, dad?" He practically whispered. He gulped as the words started flowing out of his mouth, as they usually did. He could never shut up. "You want to have a chat? There isn't much to talk about, really. I went to school today, saw Scott. Got benched at lacross. Again. And school wasn't much fun, as usual. Teachers always yelling, f-"

He was stopped by a punch to his jaw. He immediately grabbed his face, the tears already burning his eyes. His father glared evily. "Just shut up already, Genim."

Stiles was struck speechless, he always was; he didn't know why he didn't expect it anymore. The beatings were a reagular thing. It usually began with punches, then when he was down on the ground a whimpering mess from the pain the kicks to his ribs began.

"P-please, Dad, d-don't." Stiles begged.

His pleas only seemed to encourage his dad to kick harder, punch harder, yell louder. Stiles didn't know if he could take this anymore. Maybe today would be the day he finally did it. Finally got rid of his last shred of sanity and cut just a little deeper, just a few more cuts, he could slowly slip into unconsciousness from bloodloss and finally be reunited with his mother.

Thoughts of his mother always seemed to bring him back just when he was on the verge of finally doing it, finally taking that last step into an eternity of no beatings, of not being raped every single night, of not having to hear the hateful words, or see the mean glares.

Stiles was suddenly brought back into reality by his dad reaching for the buckle on his pants. Stiles used the last of his energy to fight. "Please, please. I'll be a good boy daddy, I-I-I promise! I won't do any of those bad things anymore! I'll be good for you daddy I promise!"

"You, Stiles, you don't know how to be 'good'." His father said, venom dripping from his voice.

Stiles just laid there on the floor, pants half undone. His dad slowly advanced on him, "You don't know how to do anything right Stiles. You're just worthless, you are a pathetice excuse for a human being. You are nothing. Do you hear me Stiles? Do you hear what I'm saying? You. Are. Worthless. You are a piece of shit. You don't even deserve to be alive. You should have died, not your mother. Now shut up and take your punishment like the little bitch you are." Sheriff Stilinski inforced his statements by ripping Stiles' pants the rest of the way off.

Stiles tried to hold in his sobs as the assult began. First his 'father' was pulling down his boxers exposing him. Then he began to undress and forcefully push into Stiles without any kind of lubricant, then he was setting a brutal pace that had Stiles screaming in agony with each thrust begging him to stop. He didn't want this. He didn't know what he did to deserve this. He just wanted to be good....

After what felt like hours of assult, his dad was finally finished. Stiles couldn't stop the tears from pouring down his cheeks, burning the fresh cuts that his father had put there.

"Pull up your pants and quit crying like a pussy." His father sneered, shoving Stiles' shoulder down and adjusting his clothes. Sheriff Stilinski walked up the stairs, leaving his son on the floor.

Stiles pulled himself up, fixed his clothes, and headed to his room; not bothering to wipe his tears that continued to fall. He walked with a slight limp, from the searing pain he was in.

When he got to his room, he flipped the light on. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Derek Hale standing there. He wiped his eyes and adjusted his clothes quickly.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Stiles whisper-yelled, shutting his door quietly.

"Where's Scott?" Derek demanded. Stiles made a face.

"And what makes you think I know? I'm not his parent, I don't track his every move. He's his own person! But, probably with Isaac. As us-"

"You're shaking," Derek interupted, taking a step closer to Stiles, examing his bruised and tear-stained face. "What happened? Is your dad drinking again?"

Stiles gulped. Derek could tell something was wrong. He knew. Fuck. He ran his hand over his short, buzz cut. He shook his head. "No-no! Nothing's wrong! Nothing happened. And yeah, he has been drinking, he's drunk right now, actually. But he didn't do anything, no. These are from lacross today, I sw-"

"Stiles." Derek said, he sighed gently. "I can hear your heartbeat, I know you're lying to me."

Stiles blinked back tears. "Well, I just want to get some sleep, okay? I don't know where Scott is. Like I said, check with Allison. Not like he keeps up with me anyw-"

"Can you tell me what happened? Can you let me protect you?"

"Can you stop interupting me?" Stiles asked, sitting on his bed. He cringed.

Derek huffed. "Well if you would answer my questions."

Stiles shook his head. "Leave, now."

Derek walked back to the window, he turned to look at Stiles. "I know you're not pack, but if you need anything, just call for me."

With that, Derek was gone. Like everyone else in Stiles' life. Because he made them leave. He wanted them to know, to help him get out of this hell that he was living. But he couldn't tell them. It would hurt them. And that's one thing Stiles could never do; Hurt someone he cared about.