#Special FBI bullshit program is over and he's in Rafa's supernatural unit now

[rubyredhoodling]

TW: Hello Again, Kira.

A low whistle above him cuts through the ringing in his ears. Stiles squints up at the dark canopy of criss crossed telephone wires and branches, only to have it blocked out by a hooded figure with glowing eyes.

“What’s a nice looking boy, doing in a place like this?”

“Kira?”

The blow to the back of the head must have been worse than he thought. No one has heard from Kira since she disappeared with the skinwalkers senior year. Yet in the shadows this girl looks exactly like he remember her. Stiles struggles to twist onto his side but a worn boot pushes against his tender shoulder.

“You should lie still. You got tail whipped pretty hard. If you’re ribs aren’t cracked they’re at least bruised.” The Kira look-a-like says, giving him a once over.

Stiles wants to argue but his muscles are screaming in agreement, even his bones feel like they’re throbbing. He foregoes the argument and surrenders to the new wave of crackling aches. When she’s satisfied he’s not going to attempt to move, she removes her foot, and crosses her legs to sit beside his head.

“I thought you’re supposed to grow out of chasing monsters.” She chides. “Everyone else has moved on to normal lives, some even started families.” The words sound particularly caustic but quickly rolls back into a conversational tone. “At least you’re finally getting paid for hunting down creepy crawlies, right?”

She pulls a small bag from her oversized jacket and begins to pick through it. Hidden vials clink together as she pulls different bottles to examine. Stiles shifts his focus from the bag to her face. Shapeshifters always had a tell, whether it be a cluster of misplaced moles or the wrong color eyes, their illusions were never perfect. However, this was the best he’s seen yet. The stranger looks exactly like the girl who went into the desert. The hair is shorter and her eyes sharper, but everything else is in its place, as if she walked out of his memory.

His hand drifts up, despite knowing better, and paws heavily at the side of her face. She startles at the touch but gives him a wry look as he continues to try to find an imperfection in her illusion.

“It’s really me, Stiles.”

“Not possible.” He shakes his head and lets his hand fall back as the muscles around his ribcage seize again.  

“You just got your ass handed to you by a woman with a snake body, but you doubt I’m real?”

She sighs and slips the hood from her head. The street lamp above suddenly flickers to life, the rings in her eyes glow brighter, and for a moment the outline of a fox bleeds around her face.

“Do I look like an imitation?”

The air surrounding them is colder, stretched thin, and crackling as if making room for something big. Stiles has never been able to see her fox before. In high school, Scott had always described it as a protective flame, which only became more wild when the Doctors came to town. Now, it’s more contained and hugs close against her skin, like neon armor. The abandoned lot goes dim again as the lamp fades but Stiles can’t quite shake the after image of her fox.

“How did you get out? The sword was destroyed when--goddamnit!” Something shifts when he struggles to sit up, and stirs to life another wave of pain.

Kira pulls him closer, propping his head against her leg as she finally retrieves a vial of shimmering liquid. “It took me seven years to claw my way out of the wastes, I became my own sword.”

There’s a familiar hunted look in her eyes, one that he’s seen in the mirror but never expected to share with her. The rim of the stout bottle feels cold against his lips and the smell is so noxious it makes his eyes water. He flinches back but Kira holds him steady.

“It’s not that bad, you big baby. It’ll help with the pain.”

Stiles grimaces but opens his mouth and tries not to gag as it burns over his tongue and into his stomach. It’s oddly sweet and tastes worse than bathtub moonshine. Kira slips the bottle back into the bag and stuffs it into her pocket.

“What is that?”

“Phoenix tears, rather my take on it.” She says casually, repositioning him back on the ground. “Mostly, ice liquor and blessed moon water, but it gets the job done.”

He can already feel his ribs knitting back together and his muscles feel blissfully heavy and relaxed. His entire body feels like a fresh soap bubble, climbing further and further away from his body.

“You got me drunk?” Stiles slurs incredulously.

“Pleasant side effect.” She shrugs. “It only lasts a few minutes, which should be just enough time for your backup to arrive. Who knew all that time mouthing off and misleading investigations, would gain you a place in the FBI?”

“Y-you...you should come with me.” He furrows his brow at his uncooperative mouth. “Sh-shouldn’t...don’t be alone...come work with-h me an’ D-Derek.”

Kira’s face softens for a second before it becomes a neutral mask. “While I’m not opposed to a paycheck, I’m not much of a team player these days.” She stands up and tucks her hands into her jacket. “Nice seeing you again, Stiles. Say hi to your boyfriend and try not to get yourself killed.”

“Kira--”

The streetlamp flares back to life, brightening and singing beyond its capacity. The air snaps and the lot is dark and empty.

I just want my girl back. Also the kitsune mask is from missmonster.