Warnings: Mild abuse (it is mentioned. I won't go into detail.) Eventual slash. Foul Language.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or Teen Wolf.

A/N: The songs that I choose don't necessarily have anything to do with the chapter. It's more of what I was listening to when I wrote, some don't have words but you should totally look it up on Youtube and listen to them while reading, and tell me if you think it matches up.

This is set in the future by technically eleven years I guess. Because Stiles leaves after graduation, so he will be eighteen when he leaves(in the show he is sixteen which your already know most likely), and no one sees him for another nine years. I think the only other main changes I've made are: Sheriff Stilinski is a total bastard and used to hit Stiles, Erica was Stiles partner and she never lived in Beacon Hills nor was she ever bitten but her seizures are under control and she is mostly healthy, and they are in the FBI. Because I think that would just be awesome for Stiles to be FBI.

This is the Howl 'verse. I will be writing a series of oneshots/chaptered fics later set before and after this story.

Sorry if it's kinda all over the place I've been seriously ADHD lately.

But…yeah. I think that's everything.

Fly Away

By: Mokhov

/\/\/\/\/\

Nine years. Nine fucking years. And the only person to have seen Stiles was Scott.

And that was because Scott had flown all the way to Washington DC to be with him after Stiles partner was mauled by a werewolf. He and Erica had gotten really close as partners. Scott was the only one in the pack that knew that Stiles had been bitten that same night. Stiles was starting to think that was a bad idea. Because he was currently on a plane back to California, and he was pretty sure Derek was going to have an aneurism when he found out.

Poor Scott.

Actually, Stiles figured he would get the brunt of the Alpha's anger. Because Scotts like a lost puppy and would have just done what he's told, whether or not if it would have been better to just tell Derek. So…

Poor Stiles.

Stiles scrunched his face up, his knee was bouncing with anxiety. Too much had happened in the past two months. Erica had died trying to help Stiles, he had been forced to take a leave of absence until his mental health improved, and then lastly…Sheriff Stilinski had died of a heart attack. And Stiles had mixed feelings about that. It was kind of a relief, but then it was depressing because the man had been his father. A bastard. But still his Father.

The man hadn't always been an abusive drunk. But everything changed when Stiles Mom died. Stiles was ten the first time his Father hit him, the man could barely stand he was so drunk. He had apologized the next day but their relationship continued to go downhill and the hitting never stopped, and his Father stopped apologizing, and the behavior was no longer just while he was drunk. They never spoke unless Stilinski was beating the shit out of his son.

And Stiles did his best to spend as much time with Scott as possible while he was a teenager, didn't even tell Scott why he wanted to be there all the time. And then when Scott shoved his head up Allison's ass it had gotten bad again.

Until Derek found out.

Stiles stopped that train of thought right there. He didn't want to think about Derek. He was already close enough to an anxiety attack about him not knowing Stiles was a werewolf. He didn't want to think about the thing that had started between them before Stiles had run with his tail tucked between his legs all the way to DC.

Stiles scrubbed his face before messing up his hair. He grabbed his bag and popped a couple of his anxiety pills and shutting the window covering before leaning back in his seat and trying to sleep for the rest of the flight.

All he wanted to do was fly away from his problems, instead he was flying into them.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Stiles jolted awake by a mixture of the plane landing and the nightmare he had just had. The rest of the occupants of first class kept giving him weird looks. He must have been talking in his sleep again. He sighed and scrubbed his face shaking his head. Trying to forget the slick feeling of blood on his fingers. He pulled up the window cover to watch as the plan pulled up to their gate in the Sacramento Airport.

He played Angry Birds on his phone to give himself a distraction while waiting to be let off the plane. After fifteen minutes he was able to get up and grab his overhead bag before slowly pushing his way off the plane and through the airport. He had the five and a half hour flight from DC and now he had a long ride to boot. At least Scott was going to be driving.

Or that had been the plan when he left DC. But it seems that plan has changed.

Stiles stopped walking at the sight of strawberry blonde hair. Very familiar strawberry blonde hair. He was almost to the baggage claim. Holy shit. Lydia would know as soon as she caught his scent. And holy shit. There was lechy Uncle Peter. Lechy. Uncle. Peter.

What the fuck was Lydia doing with him? His eyes narrowed on them holding hands and…just no. He could not think about Lydia being with Peter. It would make his brain explode. Never mind his brain, his world would explode. And why had Scott not mentioned this? Oh. My. God.

He pulled his most winning smile onto his face as Lydia let go of Peters hand and her steps quickened so that she was leaving the older werewolf behind. How could she walk that fast in heels? And…wow her face still lights up like Christmas when she smiles. Stiles opened his arms for a hug and…

Whack!

His jaw dropped with the stinging in his cheek. He could feel the heat crawling up his neck to his ears. Lydia slapped him. Lydia. Slapped. Him. Oh. My. God.

"Lydiiiaa, what the heeeell?" he would forever disagree with the fact that his voice turned into a whine.

"Don't eve do that to us again," she said, her voice dangerously calm. Lydia glared at him for a moment before her icy façade cracked and her eyes looked sad for a moment. "The pack's not the same without you," she said quietly and Stile's would have had a hard time catching it if it weren't for his heightened hearing. She lurched forward to hug him, though moments later she jerked back and away like she had been hugged. "Stiles," she gasped, "What did you do?"

Lechy Uncle Peter was there in seconds putting himself between Stiles and Lydia. Stiles narrowed his eyes slightly, holding his annoyance back. The wolf in him wanted to growl, feeling challenged by the older wolf. "Yes, Stiles, what did you do?" Peter asked his best creeper smile on, obviously having just caught Stiles new wolfy scent.

"I," he started, exaggerating the word slightly, "didn't do anything. When my partner got killed I didn't get out of the situation unscathed is all." He glared at the two of them, sidestepping to go get his bag from baggage claim. "Oh, perfect timing," he said as he saw his bag just as he got there, his hand flashed out and grabbed it.

Stiles turned around and smiled at Peter and Lydia. "You guys ready to go or not?" he asked throwing the bag over his shoulder.