They didn't. None of them remembered.
                              None.
                              Not even a single one.
                              Not even that guy who's dog he used to walk for years.
                              Not even his Pack. Not even after about an hour of explaining.
                              He  had tried to get them to remember. To at least believe him when  he  said, he had been their friend. But neither Malia, nor Scott looked  like  they believed him. They listened to him and then said they were  sorry,  but: "You probably have the wrong guys, dude."
                              He told them.  Everything. About the Pack, the Supernatural (no, not  the show), about  all the things nobody but they knew. And yet... in the  end, they accused  him of being both crazy and a stalker. They even  threatened to call cops  on him.
                              That was when he took his things and walked away.
                              It was horrible. To think that after all he had told them, they would accuse him of being a stalker. A stalker. God.
                              But  maybe a think that stung the most, was that he saw some flicker  of  recognition in both of their eyes. They knew the Wild Hunt was  taking  people. They knew his story could be 100% plausible. And yet...  it seemed  as if they didn't even want him.
                              It hurt. It wasn't just him  feeling like shit after they ignored him  a bit. The revelation, that  maybe they realized who he was and acted  this way, because they didn't want him with them, made him want to go back to the Riders into their weird, abandoned train station.
                              And he wasn't kidding. It was that bad.
                              He  had nothing. No one. No home, no friends, no family. No  possessions,  but his old Roscoe. He had found it sitting in the school  parking lot.  Weird, how no one wondered about it being there. It had to  stay there  for days without moving and no one cared.
                              Interesting.
                              So here he was. Sitting in his Jeep and riding to God-knows-where.
                              "You know, maybe they really don't remember you."
                              Stiles'  grip on the steering wheel tightened. "They would try to  help me, if  they had no idea who I was. No matter who I was, they  wouldn't  jeopardize their chances on beating the Hunt."
                              "But they didn't take you in."
                              "Yes. They didn't. Because they do remember me. And they don't want me back."
                              A silence for a moment and then... "I told you so."
                              "Oh really?" he turned to glare at the demon, "You're gonna bring that up now? Really? Go fuck yourself."
                              Nogitsune lifted his eyebrows. Stiles ignored him.
                              Because in the end... Nogitsune was right. It hurt to admit, but he had been right all along.
                              Scott,  Malia, Lydia... they had never been his friends. It wasn't  friendship.  Maybe somewhere at the start. But they had soon replaced  him with other  people. They didn't like him.
                              It was a horrible realization... but  in the end, he was just  following them around. And because it seemed  that they just couldn't  tell him they didn't like him, they let him near  them and still  continued acting, as if he was their friend.
                              And he had really thought they liked him. He had really believed they were his friends.
                              They  were assholes, all bunch of them. Nogitsune was right, when he  said he  should just leave them and find some better friends. He should  have  believed him.
                                      
                                   
                                              YOU ARE READING
It's All In Your Mind
FanfictionStiles threw his hands up in frustration. "Why can't you just let me be?" It knew that there was more to that question. They won. Why couldn't It go away? Why? Stiles wrecked his mind with these questions, ever since he had first saw It after the...
 
                                               
                                                  