Never Easier (TW/Avengers)

Pack Meeting

Stiles opened his locker and got out his history textbook. He closed the locker, expecting to see Scott next to him, saying his usual 'hi' to him.

But instead he found no one.

Stiles shrugged it off, but he was worried about Scott. Being a werewolf—the True Alpha—kind of prevented Scott to be sick. Unless it was some crazy mutated disease. So it was definitely another reason.

He walked towards his class. Then he realised he left his pencil case there, so he put his textbook down on his table and walked out, going to his locker—

And found Scott there. Stiles walked casually to him, wanting to ask why he was late. But when he was at least 6 feet away, Scott looked around fearfully, then ran to the toilet. Stiles was confused. It was actually quite obvious Scott was dodging Stiles. With his werewolf sense of smell, he probably smelled Stiles's usual anxiety and his body.

Taking his pencil case, he went back to class. Scott wasn't there—he had a different class anyway. Mr. Yukimura started on his lesson.

In the middle of class, Stiles's phone dinged. Stiles looked at the phone.

Scotty Boi:
Meet at Derek's.

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows. Why? He was sure there wasn't any mysterious happenings or deaths. He found Mr. Yukimura standing in front of him.

"Stiles, no phones in class," he said.

Stiles nodded. "Yeah," Stiles quickly pocketed the phone. "Sorry."

Kira's dad walked back to his desk and resumed his lesson. Stiles, however, wasn't listening. He didn't need to, anyway. He was already ahead. Maybe it was a personal matter. Derek's family does have many problems. Maybe it was because it was someone's birthday. He doubted that, but it could be a reasonable explanation. The last time, it was Peter's birthday—and let's be honest. It wasn't all that great. It probably has something to do with Scott trying to avoid me. Maybe there was something important that he didn't want to talk about until later. Maybe—

"Stiles," Mr. Yukimura sighed, exasperated. "Being ahead doesn't mean you don't listen."

"Sorry," Stiles said again. "I'll try to listen."

"Thank you," Mr. Yukimura said. "Now..."

Stiles's mind didn't want to stay in the class. Maybe it was because of his ADHD. Maybe history just isn't that interesting. But the gears in his brain began turning again. Lydia isn't talking to me either... Stiles turned to the banshee sitting just three tables away. Lydia looked worried—but she kept her eyes on the screen. Stiles could tell she knew he was looking at her.

Mr. Yukimura smashed a book on his table. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Stiles said. "I'm fine."

"Pay attention," he said.

Stiles nodded. "I will." His mind didn't wonder; now it was just kind of... blank. Completely blank.

After getting a small scolding here and there in school, Stiles was dismissed from school. He didn't get detention or a severe scolding—he was already ahead in his studies. Now, he needed to get to Derek's.

***

"What's up?" Stiles asked, as casual as ever.

Scott's eyes kept moving, as if he couldn't focus on anything. He looked everywhere, except on Stiles. "We... uh..."

Stiles blinked at him. "I noticed the way you avoided me in school today, you know."

"I didn't," Scott said. He was a natural bad liar, so Stiles saw right through it.

"And Lydia did, too," Stiles continued. Lydia looked down when Stiles's gaze went on her. "Care to tell me why?"

"We're getting to that," Derek said.

Stiles nodded. "It's sure taking Scott a long time."

"We..." Scott stuttered. "Uh, well, wedecidedtokickyououtofthepack."

Stiles tilted his head. He definitely heard wrong. "What was that?"

"We decided to, uh, k-kick you out of the pack," Scott said.

"Two questions," Stiles said. "One, why? Two, is this a joke?"

Peter shook his head. "It isn't a joke. As for why, I don't know. The others said they wanted to."

Lydia looked at him sharply and glared. "And you didn't object, did you?"

"Me? I wouldn't dare go against a whole pack," Peter said.

Stiles scoffed. "I object."

"You can't do that," Lydia said.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "That wasn't a whole pack. I'm not officially out—"

"We officially kick you out," Derek interrupted.

Stiles froze like a deer caught in headlights. "What?"

"You're out of the pack," Scott said.

"Why?" Stiles asked.

Scott shrugged and said nothing.

"Have it your way," Stiles said. "I don't need you anyway. Don't blame me when you come back for help and find none."

"Let yourself out," Derek said, gesturing to the door. "It's unlocked."

Stiles's eyes stung. Why are they doing this? Scott couldn't just—just leave him. Nevertheless, he walked to the door with his head high. "And now I wonder why I ever made friends with you."

He went out the door, and he never looked back. Not because he was confident. It was because he didn't want to see the people—the very friends that just threw him away. The only friends I had.

He was expecting something big, but not that. They've been acting weirdly for a while. Scott's definitely been more harsher and on edge than usual, and Lydia's been... well, she didn't talk in that 'popular' tone anymore.

And Stiles has to admit—he himself thought he was useless.

***

"Dad?" Stiles called. No answer. Guess he wasn't home then.

He spotted a note on the fridge. He read it, and remembered that Dad had a date. With his new girlfriend. Stiles chuckled, a memory coming to the surface. Once, Dad told him he had a date, and turns out—his date was Lydia's mother. Stiles was sort of horrified. Having your sister as a crush kinda freaked him out.

Then he remembered that he was kicked out. Stiles decided he needed some time alone. Picking up a pen and paper, he started writing a letter to Dad:

Dear Dad,

I'm going to leave for awhile. It's not because of you. The pack just threw me out, so that was the last straw.

I feel overwhelmed by the stuff in Beacon Hills. Well, I feel like I'm drowning. I've been drowning for a while now, and it's because of the whole supernatural thing.

And don't worry about me. I have enough money with me to survive at least three years on my own—I've been saving up. Plus, I can already start working.

The new woman you're dating—she's perfect. As long as she makes you happy, I won't be mad. You deserve to feel happy. I'm not worried she'll replace Mom. I love you.

Love,
Stiles

P.S.: I'm not going to tell you where I'm going. I'll come back when I feel like it.

He placed his pen down, tears making its way onto the piece of paper. He wiped away the tears and quickly placed the note onto the fridge, using a circular magnet to stick it on.

He packed his bags, and he put in a photo of all his friends. They may have hated him, but he didn't hate them.

He sighed out loud. "Beacon Hills, farewell. Hello, new life." And he didn't add the part he really wanted to say. Hope you don't tear me up like you did last time.