Not Quite The Same (Hiatus)

Chapter Thirty Four

!!PLEASE READ AUTHOR'S NOTE!!

(A/N: hey guys um so I just wanted to put a quick warning before you read this chapter. I don't know if this is triggering or anything but I do mention some off handed remarks about death and how Stiles doesn't care if he dies or not and how he doesn't care what happens to him and that he doesn't matter. I just wanted to leave a warning just in case it was triggering or anything and also wanted to say that, if you struggle with depression or anxiety or anything like that, I promise you that it's going to be okay. I have anxiety and depression and I know how it feels but I promise you that it's going to get better. If you ever need to talk to someone, I'm always here if you need someone. And if you don't feel like talking with me, you can search up the Crisis Text Line and get help. Let's get on with the story. I love you guys soooooooooooo fucking much, please just know that. I love you guys 💜💜💜💜💜)

"I'm going."

Two words. Two little words that sent the pack into a World War III esc squabble.

"No way in hell--"

"Nope--"

"We'll drag your ass back if we have to--"

"No, you're not--"

"I'm not loosing you again--"

"You're hurt, you're not about to fight--"

"He'll kill you, you're not going--"

"We're not about to let you go, no way--"

"Not a chance--"

Stiles stood there for a second, staring at them as if they had all grown an extra head. He blinked once then whispered so softly, they all almost missed it.

"Why do you care?"

The look on his face was heartbroken, and just downright confused. He seemed generally baffled at the sight of people caring for him.

"Why do we care?" The sheriff repeated, questioning. "Stiles, we care because we don't want to see you get hurt, or worse. Whatever happened with this company or with this Visage character, whatever they did to you, it's not gonna happen again. We're not letting you go and we are not letting them take you."

The confused heartbroken look on his face didn't leave and, if anything, it became more vivid and obvious.

It was the most vulnerable they had seen him.

"I don't get it." He told them, truthfully, it seemed.

"What? What don't you get?" Lydia asked softly.

"Why the fuck do you care!" He screamed, every ounce of confusion and desperation coming out.

He was so confused and didn't know how to process what was going on and why hadn't someone tried to kill him yet and he was tired. God he was tired.

"Why am I so important to any of you?! I don't get it! I really don't. Cause from the moment I got here, for some goddamn reason, you seem to care about me. What? I mean, I get the whole part where I have a fucking dad, but you guys--" he pointed at the star struck pack, "I can't figure out why you give a damn! So what? Was I a part of your pack or something? Did I know you before I had been taken? You guys are hiding something, I know it! Whatever it is, you might as well tell me, seeing as I'm about to go probably get myself killed, but hey! I can finally do something good for this world!"