Oh How Time Changes Things (being rewritten!)

The Truth

The door opened after a minute of waiting. There stood Noah Stilinski, he looked sad, overworked and tired in more than one way. But ther he was, and Stiles flew into his arms faster than you could blink. They stood like that for a while, just in each other's arms, not wanting to let go in fear they might be ripped away from each other again. "Hey dad." Stiles said, wiping his eyes with his hand. Noah pulled away to look at his son, his own tears rolling freely down his cheeks. But the man just gripped his son again. Choking out a sob and whispering, "I'll kill you if you ever do that again." That made Stiles smile.

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Stiles lied in his bed, taking in everything as best he could. He was home, god it was so nice. His father had  told him that the pack was still relatively close too. Lydia had graduated early, Scott worked with Deaton, Isaac worked with Derek, but Kira had moved with her parents a long time ago. So Noah decided to call a pack meeting tomorrow. There Stiles would tell his story, and explain everything. No one knew what had happened to him yet, and only Noah knew he was back. It had been a long time since Stiles got to lie on his own bed, it felt nice. But he couldn't help but miss the Gladers. "But they left Stiles, they don't care that you're gone." Said a voice, the Nogitsune. It had been talking to him for a long time now.
"You're wrong." Stiles said back.

"I'm not and you know it, Stiles I have to deal with them too. And even I can tell that they don't care about you." Stiles just ignored him, he didn't even know when it became a him not an it.

    Soon the morning sun crept through the windows of Stiles' room. Waking him up easily, he hadn't been a hard sleeper since the Maze. So he got up and got ready for the long day ahead. He picked out an outfit from his bag, because he sure as hell wasn't wearing his old clothes. He was wearing a fitted blue shirt, grey pants and brown boots. Somewhat akin to what he wore in the Maze. "Nice to meet ya, shank, welcome to the Glade." Thomas shook his head at the memory. He had been right about something, he would never forget those words...

It was weird, seeing them all again. It felt like years since he had been in the presence of his friends, and well, it had been years. Over four if he was being exact. They all stood there, staring at Stiles in disbelief. Because when someone goes missing for years, you tend to assume they they're dead. But surprise! He wasn't. But morbid thoughts aside, the pack was here. Greeting had been good, weird, but good. Chris greeted Stiles with a hug, but he knew that Stiles was different. Chris was a hunter, he's seen some pretty scarring things, so he knew the look. But they all sat, awaiting Stiles' explanation. Stiles straightened up, taking a deep breath before talking. "I was kidnapped." He said, and that got some reactions. He continued, "It was outside my house night. It- uh it was a gang that took me. They eventually took me to Mexico. I stayed in Mexico for the rest of these four years. And believe me, I tried to contact everyone. But they had me on a tight leash. I escaped, maybe seven times. And I was caught, every single time. Until a man took me in, his name was Jorge. He got me a ticket to California. And that brings us to the present." Stiles said, keeping his heart steady, knowing that Scott was listening. "I, uh, also learned how to speak Spanish. But on a more serious note, I don't know what happened to the gang or even what they wanted. All I know is that I was tortured and drilled me for every speck of knowledge I had about the supernatural. I don't know if they were hunters, or if they were psychos with a peaked curiosity." Stiles said, looking around at the group. He could see the pained expression in everyone's eyes. The tears in Scott's eyes. And dang, Stiles was a good liar.

And that was then end of that, until Peter pulled Stiles aside. Stiles knew that it was nothing good. Lord, he probably knew that Stiles was lying. "So Stiles, kidnapped you say?" Peter asked. Stiles just looked him dead in the eyes and said, "Peter, look I know you don't believe me. But yes, I was kidnapped."

"But you went voluntarily Thomas, oh, I'm sorry. I meant Stiles." The Nogitsune spat in the back of Stiles' mind. "Stiles, I have experience in lying. I know you are. I also know that you don't smell human, so, what are you? Hm? I'm waiting." Peter growled. Ugh, this man was such a creep. Stiles contemplated it for a minute. Ah, what the hell. No one would believe Crazy uncle Peter anyway. "You're right Peter I am lying. I won't tell you what the truth is, but good job at catching on. And about the smell thing, it turns out that katanas and werewolf bites don't kill Nogitsunes all that  well, but let's just say he's on a very tight leash." Stiles spat at Peter. "So, either you leave me the hell alone, or I show you what really happened to me over the last four years, well six really." Stiles said, eyes dark and jaw set. That scared Peter. This kid used to be pale and as fragile as glass. But anyone could see the differences. This boy wasn't Stiles, far from it. This boy was tan, toned, and he had a Darkness in his eyes that not even Peter or Derek had. He had seen some serious things, but well, the truth slips out eventually.