Third Person's Point of View.
"Why are we doing this, Mark?" A young Stiles Stilinski asked another young man named Mark.
"For God's sake, Stiles, we been through this many, many times, we chose this path, we're helping people. The Flare is killing them, and we are inmune." A bored and annoyed Mark said while typing words and codes to his computer.
Stiles never doubted that they were doing the right thing, not at all. They were helping save the human race, if it wasn't for them, the whole world would be consumed by the Scorch and the Flare.
"I know that. I mean, we are the founders of this organization. Why can't we tell no one?" Stiles played with a pencil in his desk.
"Look, yes, indeed we are the founders. You, me and Ava. Alright? But look, people is in panic. If we tell them, they will probably try to burn this damn place down. Not that I would complain..." Mark said without taking his eyes off his computer.
"Ah yes. Ava Paige. Mark Winston and me, Stiles Stilinski. Founders of W.I.C.K.E.D and somehow still here, in a desk." Stiles complained.
And Mark had to contain a laugh. Stiles' name was always a fun subject to Mark. He never heard of such name as his. But he knew that what Stiles had was called. Being bored and luckly for him, Mark had just the cure.
"Yeah, we work on a desk. I'm trying to find a cure and you're designing a maze that soon will be filled by teenagers like us. You're lucky, one day you're going to be remembered as Stiles Stilinski, Founder of The Maze." He gave a slight snicker when he said his name.
Stiles looked at the teenager. Mark was about eighteen-years-old, he had short light brown hair, his eyes were grey, he had bags under his eyes but was always a smart boy and a cheerful one too.
"Gosh, I wonder if we're going to survive that long, don't you?" Stiles asked with a grin on his face.
Mark that needed light, tried to turn on one of his desk's lamp. But the wire wasn't connected and the lightbulb wasn't turning on. Making Stiles laughed.
"Yo, it's not even connected." He said after his share of laughter.
Mark became red and hit his desk. "Darn the person that invented the lightbulb!"
Stiles smiled. "That would be Thomas Edison." And then his smile dropped.
"Are you ok, mate?" Mark asked to the sudden change of expression.
Stiles jumped off his seat and gave a howl of excitement. "That's it!"
Mark jumped as well, but it was because his howl surprised him. "You, asshole." He regained his seat. "What's it?"
Stiles's expression didn't fade. "Remember that Ava gave us the chance of changing our name?"
Mark furrowed his eyebrows. "Yeah, Deedee changed his name to Teresa for some unknown reason, why?"
Stiles smiled again. "Look, my old friends used to call me Stiles. And to be honest, my name is so damn complicated that I can't even say it. And 'Stiles' is just another painful reminder of what I used to have."
"Okay, I'm still with you." Mark nodded.
"Well, I didn't know what kind of name could I have till now. I want to be called Thomas for now on." He said with a prideful expression.
"As Thomas Edison? The inventor of the lightbulb?" Mark asked.
And Thomas nodded.
YOU ARE READING
My True Pack.
Fanfiction"You have two choices, alright? Either you gain my trust. Thomas's trust or you dwell on the fact that Stiles Stilinski is dead." "Sti-" "That's no longer who I am, Scott. You have your pack, mine is incomplete. We need to find Newt." "Why?" "Becau...