Okay, this started because I was having a bad night and needed something to vent my frustrations on. Aaaaand the victim in question is Stiles Stilinski! It was meant to be a depression, suicide, eating disorder fic but I think now it'll turn more into a recovery fic. I do not have an eating disorder and I don't know anyone very well who does. Most of the other stuff is personal experience mixed with a lot of reading material online. If you know someone going through this try to be there for them and if you are going through this talk to someone. You can try me but I'm not good at helping people. However if you want an anonymous ear then I am here! (It rhymes!)

Also this fic is completely ignoring all events happening in season four and any similarities is just down to the fact that I am obviously physic J. Or I just guessed right… Probably that tbh.

Also, long note, I don't know how triggering this is going to be. It will probably mention a lot of self-harm, suicide attempts, eating disorder thinking and depression. Basically this is a really upsetting fic and I do not want anyone with issues being triggered by it. But anyway, have fun (okay maybe not) reading this fic.

It started as a challenge- how long can you go without eating? It ended in a hospital bed. There was stuff in between, good stuff bad stuff and stuff that was nothing really.

Stiles was bored one day while his mother was in hospital. No one would tell him why but he'd figured most of it out. She was gonna die. He didn't really know what that meant either. He'd finished the school work he had been set and, as he had yet to discover the internet, he was bored. His father was busy working a double shift and the babysitter hadn't turned up yet. In school he had been learning about healthy living, the food pyramid and what happened of you didn't get enough. And so a thought crossed his mind. How long can I survive without food? When he had voiced it to the teacher she'd glared at him and said that every meal was important.

That day he had tried it, when his babysitter finally arrived he said he'd already eaten and when his dad came back, exhausted, Stiles had said he'd eaten tea with the sitter. All in all it lasted about five hours and then he went to get himself a sandwich which evolved into three and a number of cookies. And there the question was answered; he could survive five hours 43 minutes without eating. He settled down in bed that night comfortable with the new knowledge he'd gained. He was awoken the next day by his dad whispering that there had been a car crash. Stiles was dropped off at the hospital with a book under the care of Nurse McCall with a fervent promise from his father that this would be the last time. As it turned out Stiles' father was right.

That night when they were both home Stiles ran straight upstairs. His father didn't try to follow. Instead he sat at the table with the wine he had for his wedding anniversary. By the morning it was gone. Stiles rushed into his parent's bedroom and buried his face in the clothes. He knew it was pointless. Her smell had gone, now it was only left in the hospital room. In under an hour that would go too, it would all be washed away by disinfectant and be replaced with someone else's smell. Stiles felt sick and terrible. It was almost as if something was stuck at the back of his throat, as if it had swelled up. He ran to the toilet just like he was meant to when he was ill. That thought brought back more memories, his mom bending over him and whispering that he was alright, that it would be gone by tomorrow. Even if it wasn't she was still there the next day and that made up for the illness. Stiles bent over the toilet and felt it come up. When it was done he felt different, lighter in some way. And somehow Stiles could suddenly sense her in the room.

"Mom?" he croaked out but just as he opened his mouth the presence vanished. He crawled into his bed fully clothed and cried for what seemed like hours. In reality it was only one. Within a week his father and he had moved to the opposite side of Beacon hills. It made sense; it was closer to the school and to the police station. No one mentioned how it was further from the hospital or how it was closer to the graveyard. A week after his mother's death Stiles was back in school and now going solely by Stiles. His real name was never uttered, it had been his mother's name for him and he thought it was right that something died along with her.

Growing up Stiles knew that he was different, he was gangly and things fascinated him too much. He was hyperactive and couldn't pay attention. Teachers wrote this off as acting up after his mother's death. Eventually he was diagnosed at ADHD which was just another mark that he was different. The one thing that made it better was Scott McCall. They fitted together weirdly. Stiles had a fairly faulty moral compass but Scott's compass worked enough for both of them. Stiles couldn't think in a straight line and Scott couldn't run in a straight line. (Or run at all if his asthma was acting up). Scott had the cute, puppy demeanour and Stiles had the brains to back it up. Scott was a dreamer and Stiles was the realist who would get it done. Scott didn't have a father and Stile's didn't have a mother. They fitted like scars around an open wound.

One day when they were lying on the ground, trying to determine if Scott was dying or just having an asthma attack, Stiles brought up a question.

"How long is this going to last?"

"Normally they're a few minutes if its longer I need to get my mom." Scott wheezed out

"No, I meant us." In the next pause Scott managed to catch his breath and the rasping began to slow.

"We're best friends Stiles. We're never going to leave each other" Stiles nodded but was glad when they lapsed into silence. Best friends don't split up, they can't be broken. But then again isn't a marriage just two best friends? They break up all the time. The two of them were just examples of that.

That night when he got home it was to see his dad slumped over papers. Glass was smashed on the floor from where a bottle had slipped from his fingers. Stiles sighed and slowly cleared it up. He then dragged his dad over to the couch and laid a blanket over him. Then Stiles made himself a sandwich which he carried up to his room, there aren't any rules when your dad's passed out.

His dad clears up his act and puts the alcohol away after a memorable night. After that night rules are a lot more flexible and Stiles figures that the black eye was worth it kind of. Not that he'd repeat it. But he knew he shouldn't have brought up his mom at a time like that. Stiles isn't even sure if his dad remembers the night but Stiles remembers every detail of it. The next day he looks up self defence mechanisms and gets distracted with the history. As it never repeats itself he doesn't bother learning more. At school he was regarded as a bit of a freak. He was geeky and a lot more clever than most of the people there. At some point Scott had a series of asthma attacks and wasn't allowed back into school for two weeks. After eating alone for two weeks Stiles decided to develop a better sense of humour. When he acted out people laughed and so he did it more and more. And if he was kind of leaving Scott behind him who cares? Nothing lasts for ever, best friends were for five year olds. Stiles developed a sense of humour that targeted mostly him, that was the best thing to do if you're class clown. No one likes to be laughed at but everyone likes to laugh at someone. Really everything started going downhill when everyone else stopped laughing, when they rolled their eyes or remained silent instead. That left Stiles wondering, was it a joke? Or maybe, he was the joke, the fool, the freak.

Just before high school started Stiles decided that he couldn't sleep. Sleep had never been easy but ever since she'd died it had become almost impossible some nights. So he paid a call to Scott, he hadn't counted on the baseball bat though. As they ran through the woods Stiles felt really good. Really super good actually. Then the two of them had been separated and Stiles was sent back to his house. When the whole werewolf thing developed things went downhill. Suddenly Stiles was surrounded by muscles and he felt everything swirling out of control. He tried to hold on, researching for hours at a time, trying desperately to be worthwhile. But he couldn't be. Everyone was faster, stronger and better. He was falling behind. Scott McCall, with asthma so bad he had to miss weeks of school could run further than Stiles could. Lydia, who had never shown any interest in Stiles was now making out with Scott in a closet. Stiles found himself standing in front of the mirror almost every day very soon. He looked at his body and found it lacking. There wasn't an excessive amount of fat but there was still more than Scott had. He wasn't anywhere near as muscled as Scott. He couldn't run as far as Scott. The differences piled up minute after minute until Stiles couldn't take it anymore. The next day he skipped breakfast, whenever he was running late he skipped it anyway. That day he pocketed the money he was given for lunch. He sat in the library saying he had an assignment. It became a schedule and slowly, but surely, Stiles began to regain control. The numbers dropped down on the scales he had bought on day one.

Sometimes thought it was too much. Maybe Scott was munching through a bag of curly fries or Melissa McCall had just baked cookies. At these times Stiles felt the anxiety swell up in him, he wanted food but he shouldn't he shouldn't he shouldn't shouldn't shouldn't shouldn't shouldn't. This repeated in his head while his body moved of its own accord. His hands grabbed a handful of the fries while his mouth smirked at the look on Scott's face. His hands moved to take a cookie while he felt sick inside. When Allison and Scott got serious it hurt all the more, no matter how much progress Stiles had made (none of his trousers fitted anymore) Scott was better. When Peter offered Stiles the bite his mind leapt at the opportunity, he'd be perfect finally. But something stopped him. The same presence was there, his mother softly whispering his name over a crib. Stiles refused it, feeling ill. He couldn't let himself do that. He had to be human for her.

After that Stiles began to eat more. Never breakfast but normally lunch. Always dinner and occasionally a snack here and there. He trained as well, running laps with Scott and attempting to shoot with Allison. After he had shot himself in the foot twice she stopped the sessions. During the summer he gains control differently. He makes meals and he controls what he eats and really isn't that better? Sure, his first attempts resemble Peter Hale (he doesn't try that recipe again ever) but eventually the meals are alright. His dad's calmed down a lot and Stiles revels in the feeling that he is finally in control again. Of course the moment he gets back to school it crashes down around his ears.

Derek Hale is recruiting. With every new wolf made Stiles feels another pang. He could be like that. Isaac, Boyd, Erica, they're perfect. With everything going on Stiles reverts back to his old ways. Starving is very in at the moment anyway. He watches as everything crumbles. He begins to blur conversations. Kanimas, Jackson, who cares? Well, apart from Scott. But he cares about everything. Except Stiles apparently, because even though Stiles is back to eating one meal a day Scot doesn't care. Stiles vents his fury on Jackson until he can't and he's yelled at again by his dad. And if Stiles starts to have small black outs who cares?

When Allison is gone Stiles is please, whilst Scott is moping they can actually spend time together for once. Scott begins to notice stuff then, when his girlfriend is off in France. So Stiles relaxes a little bit, back up to two meals a day whenever Scott is around. When Allison is back school becomes worse and worse until Stiles begins skipping days. He's never been able to concentrate and ever since the werewolfy stuff appeared he just couldn't keep perfect attendance. Very soon Stiles has to drag himself out of bed. He doesn't grab a snack or lunch but just heads out the door. He can keep up a good front though. That is, until his father is kidnapped. Every muscle in his body screams at him. His mind is firing off faster than it has before. He can't concentrate and he can't stay still but he doesn't have the energy to get up. It's almost a relief when he sacrifices himself. At least he's doing something. At least he's not just sat there being useless, fat, terribly human Stiles. It's the aftermath that's the worst. One moment he's in terrible searing pain the next completely numb. His appetite is the same, one moment he's eating everything he can get his hands on and the next the thought of food revolts him. He has coping strategies though. When he's in agony he stays still and sleeps, or tries to. When he's numb he takes out his scissors until he sees red.

One thing that's constant is the cold. Before he was chilly but now all he can feel is the ice around him, enveloping him. Inside and out he is freezing. After that he doesn't know what's real and what's not. He talks to his mother and father. He thinks one of them is dead but he doesn't remember. Peter yells at him and throws fire and Stiles accepts it but it doesn't warm him. Sometimes he throws the fire and sometimes it's a half human half lizard creature. Some days he eats so much he explodes, literally. Other times he counts his fingers carefully before stuffing them down his throat. By the time he's done he can't remember how many fingers he had.

When the creature is out of him Stiles doesn't feel better. If anything he feels worse. Because suddenly he can't blame anything on a dream. He runs to the toilet after every meal and throws up. Sometimes he makes it happen but often it just does. He doesn't feel her presence anymore. He figures it's because she doesn't want him. Why would she? Everyone else is fasterstrongerbetter. Everyone else is worth saving. Surely, the only reason he came back to life was for him to give it up? But before he could Allison was gone. Scott was wrecked. Isaac was barely holding it together. But there are a lot of reasons someone becomes a true Alpha and giving up is not one of those reasons. Scott refuses to let Stiles die but all Stiles can think is that it's the least he deserves. When the fox is finally killed Stiles feels something falling away from him. He later realises what it was; the feeling his mother was close by. The idea that a monster made him feel that is enough to send him rushing to throw up the contents of his empty stomach.

After that Scott recluses himself. Isaac and Chris Argent travel halfway across the world and Derek seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth. Everyone is mourning a loss. Allison and Aiden are both cold in the ground. Stiles sometimes wonders if they can talk to his mother. He knows it's silly, he hasn't believed in an afterlife for since his mom died. More and more he starts to think about it though. He thinks of the afterlife, heave, hell, purgatory and death. He's seen how many people can die in violent 'accidents'. He wonders when he'll join them. He faints on an almost daily basis, he doesn't eat. He can't sleep. He cuts and cuts until he can't see skin for the blood. He still keeps it a secret though. Who could he tell? Scott was still caught up in Allison's death. As was Lydia. Stile's father was super busy rebuilding the police station after the Oni attack. Mrs McCall was too busy with Mr McCall. All in all there was no one left for Stiles until it was almost too late.

He didn't want to go by starving himself. He almost did though. Every time he stood up his vision was filled with black spots. He fainted at least once a day and slept for at least twelve hours each day. He was never warm and each rib was shown in stark detail against his snow white flesh. When he sat down he couldn't get his thighs to touch no matter how much he pushed. There wasn't any fat left but there wasn't any muscle either. Just the bones. That's all that was left of his mum though, and Allison and Boyd, Erica, Aiden. He wasn't far off joining them. But one day he decided that enough was enough. He was through being ignored. He was through with every one being fasterstrongerbetter than him. Everyone was equal in death at least. Those were the thoughts in his head when he was standing at the top of the school. There wasn't anywhere else to go. The hospital was tall but constantly manned. The school had several hours until anyone would come by. So Stiles waited. His phone was clenched in his hand, he had changed the password before he had left. No one would be able to track him. No one knew his name. Anyway, no one cared about him so why would they look? His dad was working the night shift and wouldn't get home until it was all over for Stiles. No one else cared. If they did he wouldn't be sitting there because he couldn't even find the energy to stand up. His top wouldn't catch at every micro movement. He watched as the last car pulled away. There was no point doing this when someone else could see.

He placed the phone on the stairwell. In three hours it would send a message to the hospital to collect his body. By then the chances of him surviving were almost nothing. Even if he survived the initial jump his body was worn down. It had broken just like his life. He stood slowly, swaying slightly in the breeze and then he leaned forwards. For a moment he felt as if he was flying, the wind was buffeting him this way and that but it was glorious. The last thing he remembered before he met the concrete was an inhuman screech and the presence of his mother one last time.

Don't worry, this isn't the end of the story, that would be just cruel. As of me writing this at half past 1 in the morning on the 18/7/14 (British time, i think we're on Summer time but I have no idea cause I am terrible with those things and I should probably be asleep right now) I have written nearly 10 000 words and I am only just getting started on the plot. (Apparently there's now a plot which there wasn't when I started to write this). I cannot promise regular updates. I cannot promise quality or quantity (which really leaves us with not a lot). But if you liked it then please favourite/ follow/ review. Also I wrote this entire chapter in one burst from 1 AM to 3:44AM so if there are terrible mistakes please just PM me or review and tell me about them.