#stiles wasn't amused by this exchange

[twpromptsillneverwrite]

Sheriff: Derek, since you're dating my son I think it's time we have the shotgun talk.

Derek: Don't you mean the shovel talk?

Sheriff (loading his shotgun): I know what I said, son.

(Inspired by a previous post)

[usermischief]

chapter 59: it’s just your shadow on the floor Warnings: violence

You can read it on AO3 as well.

---

“If you think this is helping,” Stiles mutters, squinting at the shadow figure on the ground, “let me assure you that it’s really not.”

Lydia cackles, not even try to hide her amusement when Jackson shoots her a look. “At least I’m trying.”

“Sure, you are.” Theo pulls Stiles closer and props his chin on his shoulder. “What’s that supposed to be?”

Jackson makes an elaborate gesture with his hands. “A bird!”

Once more, Stiles squints at the shadow figure on the ground. Maybe if he turns his head a little? Nope, still can’t see it. Not that it would’ve helped anyway. “If you say so.” Stiles furrows his brows and hovers a hand over the shadow, trying his hardest to imagine a bird to create something. Still, neither the shadows nor the darkness cooperates. They give him nothing but a headache.

Sighing, Stiles drops his hand.

“You suck at this,” Theo chuckles.

Stiles bristles and whips around.

“Not you.” Theo quickly leans forward and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Jackson.”

“If you can do it better, please, after you.”

“I think,” Lydia interrupts what easily could’ve turned into either a ridiculous competition or an argument, “Stiles needs a break.” Offering him a small smile, she leans back in her pool chair and pulls her blanket up to her shoulders. Her curls move in the cool breeze.

Jackson huffs, but whatever complaint he intended to throw around got stuck in his throat the very moment Lydia places a hand on his thigh. Instead, he falls back against his chair and crosses his arms with something that could only be described as a pout.

Theo wraps his arms around him and kisses the nape of his neck. “You’ll throw shadow stars around in no time, babe.” It’s supposed to be an encouragement, yet it sounds like Stiles has fallen off a bike and worries to get back on. He sounds as if it didn’t matter that Stiles created weapons for the sole purpose of attacking him.

That it didn’t matter he tried to kill him.

It doesn’t make any sense.

Unless maybe Stiles is simply bitter and prone to holding a grudge. But Theo holds grudges too. His hatred for Scott is rooted in a fight from their past, one he never forgave him for. Yet when it comes to Stiles, he bounces back like it’s nothing.

Stiles wonders if he should be grateful for this. If perhaps he should be happy that Theo doesn’t hate him after everything he’s done.

He would lie if he said he wasn't utterly relieved that Theo still wanted to be with him, yet, part of him needed Theo to at least show some sort of emotion regarding everything that happened. He needed a reaction. Not the prayer of, ‘it wasn’t you’ everyone keeps reciting whenever he brings it up. That’s only pushing the reality away from them.

Because this is Stiles. 

And now, he is scared of touching Theo, who has no reservations at all.

It’s not fair.

Stiles pulls Theo’s arms away from him and gets to his feet. “I’m going to bed.” He would’ve preferred to go to his own bed, with Isaac on the ground next to him, so he can check on him whenever he wakes up and see he's okay. But Stiles knows they’ll have to go back to normal at one point — and today would be that day whether he wants to or not because his dad and Jordan just so happened to work a double tonight. They want this to happen in a safe environment, and being with Theo is about the safest he can be.

“Okay, let’s head-“

“No,” Stiles smiles at Theo, trying to somehow diminish the hardness of this one word, “it’s fine. You don’t have to.” Although Stiles isn’t looking at the others, he can feel the heaviness in the air as they’re exchanging what they probably think are sneaking glances. They’re not. Not even a little bit.

Their silence lasts a little too long. “Sure,” Theo agrees eventually.

“G’night.”

“Night.”

Stiles can feel Theo staring at him when he slips into the living room. His gaze is heavy, almost dragging him back to his warmth. But he needs space. To breathe. To think. To get settled for a night that’s not going to be easy. He hurries upstairs, takes two steps at a time and switches the lights on the moment he’s entered Theo’s room. He glances around.

There’s nobody there.

The only shadow he needs to be afraid of is his own.

But he’s not afraid of people jumping him in the dark, the people who want him don’t need cover. He’s afraid of the dark because it’s whispering to him, bad things, wrong things. It’s promising him power, unlimited, destructive — violent. He’s never felt more uncomfortable in the dark than he does right now.

And he hates it.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he crosses the room and turns on the lamp on the nightstand then switches the overhead light off.

It’s so fucking stupid. He feels like a little kid afraid of the basement. It shouldn’t be like that. This is supposed to be his element.

Stiles studies the shadows, dancing on the walls. Everything, every single inch of it was at his very fingertips only a few days ago. He’s sure it’s still there. All he has to do is reach out.

The door clicks open.

Stiles presses his lips together.

“Don’t even start.” Theo closes the door behind him and leans against it.

“I haven’t said anything.”

“You don’t need to.” Theo crosses the room, brushing past him, “your body posture tells me everything I need to know.”

Letting out a breath, Stiles relaxes his shoulders and watches Theo plop onto his bed, legs spread, eyes narrowed. “What?” He can feel the argument brewing beneath their skins. It’s been coming the whole day, every time Theo shifts closer, Stiles pulls away. They spent the whole day together. Neither Jackson nor Theo went to school. The brothers tried their best to act normal around him, but as good as an actor Theo is, his mask slipped every time Stiles pulled away from him.

“So, you’re going to be scared of being near me for the rest of your life?” Theo presses his lips together, trying to feign disinterest — something he’s usually terrible at, and he’s not exactly doing a great job now. Unsurprisingly. Theo has never been disinterested in anything when it comes to Stiles.

“I’m not scared.”

“Right.”

Stiles grinds his teeth. “Give me a fucking break,” he snaps, clenching his hands into fists.

“I did.” Theo pushes to his feet again, anger radiating off him. “I stayed away for a week, and it’s killing me.”

“Do you really think this was easy for me?” Stiles shoots back. Staying away from Theo made everything so much harder, the healing, dealing with his nightmares. The only thing keeping him sane was Isaac's constant presence in his room. That way he knew that at least he was safe. “I can’t hurt you again, Theo. I am not safe to be around until I get this under control.”

“Then let me help you!” Theo reaches out to grab his face.

Stiles slaps his hands away, and the pain on his mate’s face hurts more than anything else. It’s agony, bright and burning. No matter what he does, staying away or being close, he’ll always end up hurting the person he loves the most. “I can’t—”

“No, you won’t.” Theo shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. “That’s a difference.”

“I don’t trust myself around you. Not right now.” The admission burns on his tongue, but honesty is the least he can offer Theo right now.

“That’s okay.”

Stiles stares at him for a moment. What the hell? “Nothing about this is okay.”

Still, Theo smiles, like he knows something Stiles isn’t aware of. “I’ll trust you. Enough for the both of us.” He makes it sound easy, possible, as if the unwavering faith Theo has in him could somehow change what happened, what could very well happen again.

It’s not that easy.

Yet when Theo reaches out to him again, Stiles allows to be wrapped up in his arms, and it feels like coming home after a long nightmare.

———

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to be alone at the moment?”

Stiles closes his eyes for a deep breath then fixes his gaze on the tombstone in front of him once more. “I don’t need a babysitter.” He pushes his hands in the pockets of Theo’s hoodie. The scent of his aftershave is distinct. It keeps him grounded, but his heart still beats like a drum.

She greets him with a slight smile. “I know.” As she steps forward, she holds out a vase with a few flowers. “That’s not why I’m here.”

A cool breeze rustles through the graveyard. Stiles pulls Theo’s hoodie tighter around him, watching as Kira puts the vase down and brushes leaves away from the tombstone.

Tracy Stewart.

Stiles stomach churns, and he turns away. Maybe Lydia was right. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here. But he couldn’t say goodbye. He couldn’t apologize for what he did to her, couldn’t explain why he did it — although it wouldn’t be an excuse. I succumbed to my anger. I was jealous of you. Peter got into my head. Nothing he could say or do would ever be enough. There’s no way to make it up to her. He killed her because he wanted to, and the only person who truly seems to blame him for it is Noshiko. Everyone else seems to excuse it with ‘losing control’ because he’s new to this. It’s normal. Losing control happens to every newly turned supernatural creature.

All he has to do is learn to move on.

Stiles squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. “Why are you here?” he asks as Kira gets to her feet again.

Smiling softly, she hooks her arms around his. “It’s my fault.”

“You didn’t kill her.”

“I might as well have.” Kira looks at her feet and pulls her shoulders up. “Brett was worried about what state we’d find you in, so I pushed for her to go in with Theo. He didn’t want to bring her.”

Stiles raises his brows. “He didn’t?” The very reason he lost control in the first place, the very reason he nearly killed Theo; it wasn’t even Theo’s fault. Peter would’ve known that. Of course, he lied. Stiles expected and still fell for it.

“No.” Kira shakes her head. “I insisted because of mom. Brett didn’t think it would be a good idea… and he was right. It’s my fault.” She covers her face with her hands, crying quietly.

Stiles wraps her into his arms. “It’s not your fault.” He doesn’t know what else to say. She couldn’t have known, after all. Nobody could’ve expected how far Stiles was actually gone. Still, it certainly explains why they were taking all the precautions, why they made sure no-one but his friends would be there to cross Stiles’ path.

“I should’ve known better,” she mutters against his shoulders, wrapping her arms around him, fingers curling into the fabric of Theo’s hoodie. “I know what can happen when the fox takes control.” She tightens her grip on him.

Stiles rubs her back. Dread pools in his stomach. Of course, she knows. She’s been in his situation before. Her fox made her kill someone as well. Nobody blamed her for killing that chimera — especially not Stiles. He’s had countless discussions with his dad while being torn between defending his friend and defending his dad for doing his job.

And during all of that, Kira was eaten up by guilt.

She’s been where he is right now.

Stiles pulls back and cups her face. “We’ll make it up to them.” His father’s words echo deep in his soul.

“How?” Kira scrunches her brows together, wiping another set of tears away.

“By protecting this town.” Stiles sets his jaw. That’s his job. It’s the one thing the nemeton entrusted him with, and he’s not going to disappoint it again — he’s going to make sure that every single threat setting foot into Beacon Hills will never get out alive.

Kira blinks a couple of tears away and narrows her eyes then nods once.

They both took an innocent life, the only way to feel better about that in any way, is to make sure something like that won’t happen again — neither by their hands nor by anyone else’s. “First things first…”

“The Dread Doctors.” Kira steps away and wipes the last traces of her tears away with her sleeve. 

Stiles nods. Exactly. It’s time to rid the world of them, preferably before they manage to find a suitable host for their beast. Although the mural shows that the beast might be able to be stopped by Jordan, Stiles would prefer if they could prevent that from ever happening. There is no way to tell what the collateral damage may be. In a fight like this, too many people could end up in the crossfire.

And if even Theo is afraid of it, that’s saying something.

“Want to grab a bite to eat?”

Kira draws her brows together. “School’s starting soon.”

“My treat.” Stiles pulls a shoulder up for a half-shrug.

For a moment, she’s watching Stiles quietly but the smile tugging on her lips is answer enough. 

———

“No, no. You need to-“ Kira places her hands on his shoulders, digging her fingers in as if to prove a point. “You’re way too tense.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Stiles mutters, lowering his hands and pulling his shoulders up. “Last time I did this, I attacked Theo.” Using his new powers isn’t exactly connected to great memories or positive emotions. He understands that’s exactly what is hindering him. Just because he knows that, however, doesn’t mean he can change it. Thinking about using his magic makes him feel powerful which in turn scares the living hell out of him. It doesn’t only bring back the memories of Eichen House, but also what happened while he was possessed.

Kira sits down on her chair and reaches for the electric candle in the middle of the dining table. Currently that is their only light source in Theo’s living room. She taps her nail against the glass and pulls her hand away. A thin line of electricity follows the movement of her finger before settling in the palm of her hand. There, it twists into an incomplete circle and chases itself. Kira closes her fist around it. When she opens her hand again, it’s gone.

“You are the one in control,” she reminds him and crosses her arms on the table. “The darkness can’t do anything you don’t want it to do.”

Right.

He is in control.

Stiles is completely in control of everything the darkness does.

Taking a deep breath, Stiles reaches into the darkness again. He closes his eyes, trying to get a feel for the shadows again. Kira made it look so easy. Fuck, he had made it look so easy. The darkness bent to his will. He barely had to do anything, now, he’s starting from zero once more.

“Don’t make it too complicated,” Kira says, drawing another string of electricity from the candle, causing it to flicker.

Stiles nods. Not too complicated. Sure. He can do that. A string then, nothing more, nothing less. Just enough to make the darkness move with him.

But it doesn’t move.

It refuses to cooperate.

Kira grabs his hand, squeezing his fingers tightly. “Don’t focus on a shape. I want you to hold it in your hand and keep it there.”

That doesn’t sound too complicated. It doesn’t sound dangerous. It sounds like something he should be able to do. Stiles closes his eyes again, focusing on Kira’s fingers and tries to imagine that the darkness is doing the same — holding his hand, squeezing his fingers. Maybe it’s easier this way, giving some weight to it, pretending it’s something real, something he can touch.

There is something moving, brushing past the palm of his hand. He grabs it and pulls his hand back into the light.

The front door slams open, banging against the wall and cutting through the silence of the house. Stiles startles, losing his grip on the darkness in the palm of his hand. It vanishes into thin air.

He lets out a breath.

Kira frowns and turns towards the hallway.

“What is your fucking problem?” Brett waltzes into the room and flicks on the lights.

Stiles winces. “You want a list?”

“I want you to answer your fucking phone, Stiles.” Brett throws his backpack on the couch and crosses his arms, glaring at him.

Isaac sets his own bag down, glancing around the room.

“You know where I am at all times,” Stiles reminds him. Not only Brett but Jordan and Theo as well.

Brett massages the bridge of his nose. “That doesn’t mean you’re safe.”

“You can feel-“

“Distress,” Brett interrupts him icily, “is kind of your baseline. It’s hard to tell-“ he cuts himself off as he grabs Stiles’ phone and tosses it sat him. “Just answer your fucking phone.”

Stiles rolls his eyes.

“Do not,” Brett explodes, and Isaac grabs his friend’s jacket, stopping him from advancing on Stiles. “You were gone for two and a half weeks. Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me.” His eyes narrow, yellow burning underneath his lashes as he glares at him.

Isaac presses a hand to his chest. “Relax.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Brett shoves him and turns away. Growling low in his throat, he rips the curtains open and steps out into the backyard. Anger vibrates through their connection, becoming increasingly more distracting by the second.

Stiles rubs his chest and stares at his phone. Six missed calls, thrice as many text messages from Theo and the others. His father doesn’t seem to know about his lack of communication at the moment, or he would’ve been right there with them.

“Lydia told us Kira didn’t show up at school, and she said it’s not like you to stay away without a word.” Isaac pulls out a chair and sits down opposite Kira. “It really freaked us out when neither of you answered the phone.” He offers them a small smile and shrugs half-heartedly.

Kira fidgets with the flashlight, looking as guilty as they come. “We were training…”

“I get that,” Isaac says softly. “Just keep an eye on your phones next time.”

They both nod, knowing there isn’t really much else to say. It’s a fair request, especially after Stiles has been kidnapped not too long ago. If he’s being entirely honest, Theo not being here before Brett and Isaac is more than a little surprising. Beacon Hills High is a twenty minute drive from here, Devenford Prep meanwhile is twice as far away.

Stiles glances out the open French door. Although he can’t say he knows Brett too well, his leaving the situation instead of dishing out passive-aggressive remarks seems odd. He doubts Brett would ever let go of a chance like that. Sighing, he gets to his feet and walks outside, blinking against the bright autumnal sun. It’s his fault Lydia freaked everyone out, after all, so it’s only fair if he catches the brunt of everyone’s frustration.

Sitting on a chair by the pool, Brett stares into the water. “Theo should be here in around ten minutes. Fifteen if he drives responsibly.”

Stiles snorts. “Sounds like you don’t know Theo very well.”

“Trust me,” Brett says in a low voice, “I got to know your boyfriend very well in those seventeen days you were gone.” He looks up at him, studying Stiles for a few seconds before looking back at the water. “I’d wager he’s here in seven minutes.”

Stiles sits down on a chair next to him. “Twenty bucks, he’ll be here in five.” He holds out his hand.

Brett shakes it with a chuckle then falls back against the chair and closes his eyes. He’d almost look peaceful if not for the tight line he’s keeping his shoulders in or the way he clenches his jaw. Something else is clearly bothering him.

Neither of them checks their phone for the time.

Glancing back at the water, Stiles shifts into a cross-legged position on the desk chair. “So,” he clears his throat, not quite sure how to broach the subject of whatever is going on in Brett’s head, “how’d you get here so fast?”

“Isaac.” Brett sits back up, propping his left leg on the chair and crosses his arms over his knee. “He wasn’t doing well. I didn’t know what else to do, so I brought him here.”

“Probably a good idea.” Despite being fully aware of co-dependency being unhealthy, for now, it’s what they both have to deal with. Convincing Kira to skip school wasn’t entirely selfless. Stiles didn’t want to be alone either. For nearly two weeks, Isaac was his rock. The only reason they’re both getting any sleep was because Isaac camping on his bedroom floor.

Brett tugs on a loose string of fabric. “He didn’t sleep at all tonight,” his voice is so quiet, Stiles nearly didn’t hear him talk, “and I don’t know what to do.” Probably not separating them already. That would fucking help.

But Stiles keeps his mouth shut. He knows better.

“I can’t help him.”

Shit. Stiles isn’t sure he’s ready for a conversation of this magnitude when it comes to Brett Talbot of all people. “Brett...”

“You know, he told me he’d go looking for you,” he continues, almost as if he hadn’t heard Stiles talk at all. His eyes are locked on the string now tightly curled around finger. “I knew he thought the Dread Doctors could have taken you to the tunnels. I shouldn’t have dismissed it.” He tugs on the string, and his skin turns white. “I should’ve gone with him, but I guess I underestimated his stupidity.” The string snaps and Brett studies it for a moment, eyes narrowed as if he could put all the blame on that thin piece of bright white fabric.

Stiles shakes his head. “Isaac isn’t good with sitting around and waiting,” he tells Brett with a small smile, remembering how Derek told him Isaac got in his face despite being his alpha. “Not even Satomi could have stopped him, trust me.” 

“That’s not exactly reassuring.” Brett drops the string on the chair next to his foot. “But it explains why you two are friends.”

“Hilarious.” Stiles resists the urge to flip him off and shoots him a look instead, but his annoyance vanishes when Brett still looks worried and guilty. It’s not your fault won’t cut it. The words don’t do anything for him, so he doubts they’d change Brett’s mind. Stiles will feel guilty about hurting Theo until the end of days. The feelings will get less intense over time, but they’ll never leave – not completely. “He’s going to be okay.” That much, Stiles is sure of. Isaac is nothing if not resilient.

Brett looks at him, brows drawn together. “How can I help?”

You can’t. Not really. There are some things people have to get out of by themselves. Still, Stiles knows it’s easier when there is someone by your side. “Listen to him. Be there for him. He’ll come to you when he’s ready.”

“Eight minutes!” Isaac calls.

Brett curses under his breath.

Before Stiles is able to understand what’s going on, Theo bursts into the backyard. His eyes flash red, and he jabs a finger in his direction, chest heaving. “You-“

“I already yelled at him,” Brett cuts him off. The chair scrapes over the floor as he gets to his feet and places a hand on his shoulder. “Pretty sure he got the message.” His fingers dig into his shoulder, almost like a warning. After a moment of silence – or some sort of silent communication between Brett and Theo – Brett walks back inside and Theo sits down on the vacated chair.

Stiles squints at him. “No arguing?”

“I can call him back if you want me to.” Theo moves to place a hand on his leg then crosses his arms over his thighs instead. “I’m sure he’d respond unlike a certain someone.”

“It was an honest mistake,” Stiles mutters, sitting back in the chair. “It won’t happen again.” While he very much understands how they’re all worried and on edge, they also have to understand that Stiles can’t run around with his phone taped to his hand. Plus, there will be times when he can’t answer the phone simply because he’s asleep or in the shower or… or what? It’s not like he’s planning on going back to school.

Theo runs his fingers through his hair. “I get it. We know where you are, but-“

“Distress is kind of my baseline, I get it.”

For a moment, Theo doesn’t respond. His face does this weird thing when it’s hard to tell what else he is feeling. He’s worried, Stiles understands that, but there is something else bubbling just underneath the surface — something he is very much trying to hide. Cracking a smile, Theo holds out his hand. “Come here.”

Stiles sighs. “Theo-“

“Humor me.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Stiles grabs Theo’s hand, lets him intertwine their fingers. Deep down he knows that touching Theo won’t kill him, but it’s the memories, the awareness that he could. The worst part? Theo would let him. While he would fight, while he would defend himself, if it came down to him or Stiles, Theo would stop, he’d let Stiles kill him without a second thought.

Theo squeezes his hand. “Come here, please.”

Stiles’ heartbeat picks up. His whole body aches for Theo’s touch, to sit on his lap and wraps his arms around him, to breathe Theo, feel his warmth, feel at home and at peace. But his head won’t let him. “I love you,” he whispers, wishing there was a way to show Theo just how much he feels for him because words don’t seem like enough especially not right now.

Although Theo tries his hardest to keep his smile, the light in his eyes dims.

And it’s killing Stiles.

“Hey Raeken!” Brett pokes his head out of the door. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Sighing, Theo gets to his feet. “Sure,” he mutters, not particularly enthusiastic. Before leaving, he kisses Stiles briefly. “I love you too.” Soft words painted again his lips.

Stiles squeezes his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Theo kisses his forehead then strolls off. The words feel empty. He doesn’t get it. Not really. But not because he isn't trying to see things from Stiles’ perspective.

Stiles gets to his feet and crouches down next to the pool. Guilt burns in his stomach. No matter how much he’s telling Theo he loves him, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Not right now. Not with that fear gripping him, with his shadow haunting him wherever he goes. All he wants is Theo to know that he wants it all, for the rest of their lives – that he wants the lazy mornings in bed, that he wants to fight over which movies to watch and what to eat for dinner, he wants to slap Theo’s hands away when he’s trying to eat before Stiles is done cooking, to run out of the house, Theo after him, yelling and shouting at 2am because they’re a mess and they’re in love, and they can’t live without each other.

He wants their imperfection.

He wants everything Theo is willing to give him. He wants to be selfish, to ask Theo to give him his heart when Stiles is too afraid to touch him.

Swallowing, Stiles hovers his hand over the water and watches as nothing happens.

Someone crouches on his left, another one to his right. They don’t say anything. They don’t touch him, merely joining him in watching the water have its own mind.

“I feel weak,” Stiles whispers, lowering his hand until he nearly touches the water. Before Eichen, nature listened to him. His power shrank now that he’s become a nogitsune. He’s lost part of his magic, and he lost the ability to touch the person he loves. Closing his eyes, Stiles sits back and puts his head in his hands.

“You’re not weak,” Kira tells him. “You’re adjusting. It takes some time.” Time, they don’t have with the Dread Doctors still roaming around.

“We all need adjusting.” Isaac sits back down and bends his legs, crossing his arms over his knees. “And that’s because Kira and I were thinking…” he trails off, glances at her over Stiles’ head, grimacing at his own transition. “How about a barbecue?”

Stiles cocks a brow. “Barbecue?”

“Or a pool party?” Kira pulls her shoulders up with a smile.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m in the mood for people.” Stiles mirrors Isaac’s pose, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

Isaac bumps his shoulder. “Me neither, but it’s good for us… and the chimera pack too.”

Stiles lets out a long breath and pulls his legs to his chest. “Yeah,” he drawls, “I’m sure they can’t wait to see me again.”

“They're a little freaked,” Isaac admits, “but they know it’s not- “

“Don’t.” Stiles gets to his feet so fast he nearly loses his balance. “Just-“ he squeezes his eyes shut. If someone else tells him ‘it wasn’t you’, he’s really going to lose his mind. “I’m going for a run.” He needs to clear his head. He needs to be alone for a little while. He’s spent the last week cooped up in his bedroom, alone or with Isaac most of the time. It wasn’t any different while he was at Eichen. But Isaac is probably right. Being with friends, with the pack, it helps.

Regardless, it’s a lot.

Kira gets to her feet. “Stiles-“

But Isaac interrupts her. “Don’t go far.”

———

“You’re not hard to find.”

“I’m not trying to hide.” Stiles props himself up on his elbows, eyeing Theo with a raised brow. “I just wanted to go for a walk.”

Theo hums and sits down next to him. “Comfortable,” he remarks, patting the side of the nemeton, a small smirk curling around the corners of his mouth.

Stiles shrugs. “I wouldn’t recommend sleeping on it.” But it’s a good place to think, to ground himself. Even if the nemeton isn’t here any longer, its roots are, and there is something weirdly reassuring about it.

Theo leans back onto his elbows. “Isaac said the get-together didn’t resonate with you.”

“I’m not exactly a people person at the moment.” Stiles pulls his shoulders up and avoids Theo’s gaze. “Besides, I doubt your pack wants to see me.” They made that pretty obvious by not staying the night when Stiles was unceremoniously dropped off here at Theo’s place yesterday. He can’t really blame them.

“That’s not true.” Hayden’s voice comes out of nowhere, but a moment later, she, Josh, and Corey appear in front of them. Hayden is the only one looking at him. “We want to see you, it’s just…” she trails off, looking at the other two for help.

Josh clears his throat. “We’re all a bit freaked out.”

Hayden elbows him.

“What?” he shoots back. “It’s true.”

Corey stares at his feet.

“We don’t blame you.” Hayden hurries on, rolling her eyes at Josh. “We understand that you lost control.”

“I nearly killed you when I did.” Josh scratches the back of his head, pointedly looking anywhere that isn’t Stiles or Theo. “You never blamed me for that.”

Probably because he didn’t exactly have the time to process anything since Theo ripped his throat out and then threw Donovan’s death in his face. A lot was happening all at once. Still, Stiles gets the sentiment.

Squeezing his hands together, Corey looks up at him. “We know you’d never hurt us otherwise.”

“I wanted to hurt Tracy,” Stiles admits because that’s the issue. It’s not that he was completely out of his mind and jumped the first person he saw. His attack was deliberate. He wanted to kill her, and he did.

Corey straightens his posture. “You didn’t want to hurt me. You got me out.”

Stiles stares at him. He remembers all of that. He even remembers feeling bad about Corey getting caught in the crossfire. He never meant for him to get hurt.

“Isaac told us you were fine until they almost killed him,” Theo says, sitting up again. “Failing to protect him pushed you past your breaking point, that’s why you lost control.” Not because you became a nogitsune. Although Theo doesn’t say the words, they seem to echo all around him, whispered by the leaves rustling in the wind.

Taking a deep breath, Stiles closes his eyes. Being a monster is not his nature. He’s no more of a killer than he was before he accepted the fox fully. Although he will have to deal with the guilt of what he’s done for longer — that’s just not something he’s going to be able to shake off soon — it’s a lot easier to accept that he became a monster to protect Isaac. He’ll learn how to stay in control. Theo will figure out how to pull him back.

It’s going to be okay.

“Well,” Josh clears his throat, “after that though…” he trails off and mimics a bomb exploding.

Hayden smacks the back of his head.

“Hey, I’m just saying!”

“You’re so not helping,” Corey mutters.

“No.” Stiles gets to his feet, brushing dust and dirt off his clothes. The world feels a little brighter now, but he can’t have people tiptoe around him anymore — and he doesn’t need them to pretend what he did is in anyway excusable. “He’s honest. I don’t need you guys to blow smoke up my ass.” He turns to look at Theo and crosses his arms in front of his chest, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Especially you. I need you to be straight with me, okay?”

Smirking, Theo slips off the nemeton. “Well…”

“Don’t even think about saying it,” Stiles jabs a finger in his direction.  With all his hard exterior, it’s sometimes very easy to forget that Theo isn’t as grown up he seems at first glance.

Theo pushes his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his smirk slowly softening. It’s an expression Stiles rarely gets to see when someone else is around. “I promise.”

———

“Josh, we really don’t need any more batteries.” Stiles is ready to put this kid on a leash. This is the third time he’s come back with a pack of batteries hidden between snacks. “He’s worse than a toddler,” he mutters as he watches the chimera walk away with a scowl, tossing the batteries in the next best shelf. Stiles’ fingers itch to take them back where they belong, but Theo’s quiet cackling distracts him.

Theo glances up at him, arms crossed over the handle of the cart. “You sound like you’ve met a lot of toddlers.”

“I’ve been in charge of grocery shopping since I was ten,” Stiles reminds him, contemplating his list with a slight frown. Hopefully his calculations are right. He’s never really bought groceries for more than two people, and with supernatural creatures, he can’t just double everything up. “So yes,” he continues, glancing up to spot the cooling shelves with cheese a bit farther down the aisle, “I did meet a lot of toddlers.”

Theo watches as Hayden drops two packages of flour in the cart before walking off again, checking her own list. Since they had to buy stuff for the party anyway, Stiles decided that the Raeken household is in desperate need of a restock. Josh and Corey are in charge of the snacks and food for tonight’s barbecue while Hayden and Stiles deal with the regular grocery shopping for their respective households. Theo is mostly here for moral support — and to pay for most of it.

They stop at the cheese section.

“I think this is the first time I've gone grocery shopping like this.” Theo straightens, eyes darting from one choice to the next before he grabs a package of cream cheese and holds it out to Stiles questioningly.

Stiles takes it and exchanges it for a better deal. They might not have any money issues — especially now that Peter paid the bills for Eichen as well as his mother’s hospital bills — but they’re not exactly ‘waste their money on Philadelphia cream cheese’ rich. “Did your parents or fake parents never take you with them?” He thought that trudging along while their parents buy groceries was the experience of every child.

“My parents had staff who did all of this.” Theo gestures around briefly, scrunching up his face as he continues to stare at the selection. “And with my fake parents, I was usually only there to sleep. I was busy being…” he trails off, gesturing vaguely.

Still, Stiles knows what he means. Theo was busy dealing with whatever issues arose regarding the Dread Doctors’ experiments. With how effectively Theo dismantled their pack in hardly a month, it’s obvious that he’s done something like that before.

They both had to grow up very fast yet in vastly different ways. Stiles had to become the caregiver in the household until his dad got his feet back under him, and even after that, some of the chores became his to deal with. Theo had been turned into a weapon, the responsibility of his own survival looming above him every single second with not one person to lean on.

He reaches out and brushes his hand over Theo’s cheek. His heart races when Theo turns his head just enough to kiss the palm of his hand before going back to studying the cheese assortment, hands firmly pushed in the pockets of his jeans.

Stiles has an idea what Brett and Theo talked about before he left for his run. Looks like his own advice has been given to Theo as well. It’s almost a little disconcerting knowing that Theo actually listened to Brett instead of ripping his head off for suggesting to give Stiles space.

“You look lost.” Stiles quirks a brow, studying his boyfriend’s face.

Grinning, Theo looks back at him. “The only thing I’ve ever been sure of is you, babe.”

“Oh my god.” Stiles shoves Theo, laughing softly. “You’re so fucking corny.”

Theo shrugs, amusement bright in his eyes. “But it made you laugh.”

For a moment, Stiles pauses as he stares at Theo, the world strangely off-center, his heart jumping in his chest. He wants to kiss him, desperately, and for the first time since Eichen, he’s not scared of the desire. However, he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop if he kissed Theo right now.

“I love you too,” Stiles says instead.

Unsurprisingly, Theo looks very pleased with himself.

They’re going to be okay. Stiles has no clue how he knows, but he does. Everything is going to be fine, and who knew all it took is Theo standing in front of rows and rows of cheese for him to realize that.

Well, maybe it’s the normalcy of all of it.

This is what his father wanted, right? A normal life for him. Stiles can still have it, at least to some degree. All the supernatural disaster can’t take moments like these away from him. They will stay with him, and they’re all worth it.

“Josh, put the batteries away,” Theo calls without turning away from studying a pack of cheddar cheese.

Josh curses under his breath and retreats.

Shaking his head, Stiles walks down the cooling section towards the yogurts. “This is your fault, you know?” he informs Theo, glancing at him, and reaches for the Greek yogurt his father has been obsessed with for as long as Stiles can remember. “You got him hooked on batteries.”

“Car batteries,” Theo corrects, putting the cheddar in the cart. “I didn’t tell him to suck on a triple-A battery.”

“Well,” Stiles says, “you still-“ the floor is ripped out from under him, and his world goes dark for all but a second. The yogurts slip through his fingers and crash to the hard tiles, exploding everywhere. Stiles blinks, trying his hardest to regain his balance, but Theo is by his side at a moment’s notice, arms wrapped tightly around him. He sucks in breath and grips Theo’s arm so hard his knuckles turn white as his heart keeps pounding in his chest in tune with the ley lines screaming in his head.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Josh.

Hayden.

Corey.

Three chimeras. Right here with him.

“Stiles.” Theo’s voice keeps him grounded as his consciousness struggles to stay inside the store, present in the moment.

He squeezes his eyes shut. The ley lines flash in his mind, the nemeton tries to drag him under.

Fix it.

Fix it.

“Stiles!” Theo’s voice is louder now, more urgent.

Stiles opens his eyes again, staring at his boyfriend’s face.

Josh.

Hayden.

Corey.

Three. It’s supposed to be three chimeras.

“They did it,” Stiles whispers. The ley lines settle. The commotion stops.

They’re too late.

“Did what?” Theo asks, eyes widening slightly as he stares at Stiles.

Stiles swallows, fingers digging into Theo’s soft sweater, holding onto him like he’s his lifeline, the only thing that’s keeping him from drowning. “The beast,” he whispers, heart pounding in his chest as the reality of what just happened truly sinks in. “They resurrected the beast.”

[softranswolves]

So It's You

Summary: Stiles builds a Little Free Library to share his accumulation of books. A mysterious stranger keeps leaving books in exchange with a label of P. Hale, sparking Stiles to theorize who it may be. Pairing: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale, Allison Argent, briefly Noah Stilinski Rating: Teen Warnings: Implication of underage, but not explicit at all Written for the Stiles Shipping Central Fic Exchange for @sapphireginger! Sorry it's late!! <3

Shuffling through the collection of books sitting on the bed in front of him, Stiles groaned in frustration and let himself fall back onto the chair. He ran his hands through his hair, unable to commit. 

"Something bothering you?" Noah's head popped around the door frame, noticing the signs of being stuck. 

"I can't choose. Don't get me wrong, I still want to do this. But how to I depart with one of my babies? I've spent so long collecting them!"

"You do realize you can just... take them back out?" His eyebrows scrunched up, amused at his son. 

"But that's not the point. It's take one, leave one, simple as that." He stood again, hand on his hip as he pondered more. "Alright, fine. I'll just do a variety of genres, hit on anybody's interest."

Noah knew Stiles wasn't talking to him anymore, and he exited without preamble. He could still hear Stiles muttering and he shook his head, recognizing that his son didn't fall too far from the tree. 

An hour later, at the edge of the Preserve where pamphlets about the hiking trails were placed, Stiles set his box of books down. He nodded to himself as he surveyed the area, choosing a spot with damp soil to stake the frame into. Attaching the wood to its base took longer than anticipated, but after enough maneuvering it was done. Stiles stepped back to admire his work, pleased with the sight. A sketch of a wolf adorned one side, and the other contained a symbol he'd seen around town, three swirls reaching out from a center point. When he'd looked it up, the name of it seemed to be a triskelion. He figured it was significant to the roots of the town and thought it would be a nice ode to the past. 

Pulling a sharpie out of his pocket, Stiles pulled the cap off with his mouth and wrote Little Free Library on the front of the structure above its opening. He smiled to himself, proud of what he'd accomplished, and filled his books in. He covered a range, from poetry to supernatural fiction, queer rom-coms to true crime. He set an event reminder on his phone to check back in a week to see if there were any takers. 

"Need to get that?" Allison asked, nodding toward Stiles' phone. She popped the last bite of her croissant into her mouth, following it with the rest of her coffee. 

"Oh shit! I completely forgot," Stiles started, already collecting his things. 

"Forgot what?" Allison asked, trailing after him. She followed him to the jeep out of habit, sliding into the seat next to him. 

"A quest," Stiles said, grinning at her. He turned the key, having to try a few times before the ignition started. 

"Life is a quest with you," Allison teased. "Just don't forget you're supposed to drop me off at Lydia's after, okay?"

"What, you got a hot date to get to?" Stiles glanced at her and smirked, knowing the answer. They'd tried dating the year prior but realized they worked much better as friends. Since then she'd grown quite close to Lydia.

"You know the answer, asshole." The words were in jest as she leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. 

The rest of the short drive went by in silence; Beacon Hills was only so large that the Preserve was barely fifteen minutes away from the cafe. When they arrived, Stiles hopped out of the jeep and pumped his arms, noticing not only that books were gone, there were now new ones. He turned back to look at Allison, grinning when he saw her smile. Those dimples always got him.

Always keeping one on hand, Stiles ran back to the jeep and reached inside, flailing a little until he reached the book on the seat. He wanted to follow the rules he himself set out, and placed the book in the library, taking one with him. He noticed a fancy label on the upper corner of the cover with the name P. Hale and was intrigued. Clearly this person cared about their books, but why would they part with something they treasured enough to claim?

“We gotta go,” Allison called out, reminding Stiles about his promise. 

He walked back to the jeep again, the cogs in his head spinning in consideration. The whole drive to Lydia’s he couldn’t stop wondering about the book, and over the course of the next week, he kept thinking of it, even coming up with theories with Allison. She always shot him down, though he was particularly fond of the one where he thought perhaps a werewolf was hiding in the woods, reading when there wasn’t a full moon. Maybe it wanted to understand the human world and found itself enraptured with a crime series.

“Okay, that’s where I draw the line,” Allison finally said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “It’s one thing to theorize about various Beacon Hills citizens, but werewolves? There’s no such thing.”

“How do you know? You can’t disprove it.”

Allison didn’t humor him with a response, instead choosing to walk away. Stiles watched her, suddenly coming up with a plan. He was going to conduct a stakeout on his little library. He sent a text to his dad saying he would be home late and drove straight to the Preserve after school, parking inconspicuously against the treeline. There were other cars parked there as well, various hikers and sightseers to provide ample cover.

After ten minutes, Stiles was incredibly bored. He gave up after another hour, choosing to come back regularly on days he didn’t have lacrosse practice. Another week went by until Stiles caught sight of the target. It was a man about his height, more built than him, wearing an exceedingly low-cut cardigan buttoned up to a v-cut neckline. Stiles tilted his head in amusement, wondering what prompted the man to bare his chest like that. 

The distraction thankfully only lasted a few moments before Stiles remembered his goal, jumping out of the jeep to race over to the culprit.

“So it’s you!” Stiles shouted, pointing a finger at the man.

“So it’s me,” he responded, a slight curl to his lip in amusement. “Can I help you?”

Stiles couldn’t help his blush, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. He opened his mouth before shutting it, shaking his head, and trying again.

“This is my library. Well, it’s for the community. But I built it. You’re P. Hale aren’t you?”

“My friends call me Peter,” he said, placing his latest contribution in Stiles’ hand. 

“Does that include me?”

“If you’d like. Otherwise it’s Mr. Hale. Your choice, just like it’s your choice whether or not we get a coffee.”

“Oh you’re smooth, Peter. Okay then, it’s a deal. But first - why the fascination with this series? And why leave them when you seem to care about them?” Stiles was initially more fixated on his fictitious mystery than the proposition Peter gave.

“Hmm.” The sound was one of consideration, warm and inviting to stay for the answer. “Perhaps your theory about werewolves isn’t too far off base.”

Stiles gawked at Peter, jaw dropping. He barely noticed his hand being lifted and rotated to expose his wrist to Peter’s lips until they made contact. 

“Well then,” Stiles said. He was lost for words for what was possibly the first time in his life. “I guess we better get that coffee. Or uh, perhaps something else?”

“Whatever you’d like, little fox.”

[lightcreators]

@moonshinemuses continue from here (no access to Legacy ! )

Laura let out a laugh, shaking her head. Out of the Hale siblings, she felt like she had been the more lively one. It may be because she’s had a brush with death, or didn’t have to continue living through the trauma her siblings had to do. But whichever was the reason, she had enjoyed Stiles company for that reason. He made her laugh, as she got to know him more and understand what had fully happened when she was gone. “Terror seems like a good gift of thanks.” She teased back with a smile that showed her wolfy side. “I’m well aware of how much you like to meddle into things.” She said. “I remember hearing a deputy and other cops grumbling about you showing up on scenes you weren’t supposed to be on when they were close to the woods or I was out in town.” She smiled. It was grumbling with a fondness tone of voice, but still the comments had been made. She was sure Stiles knew how the others in the Sheriff's department felt. “I wouldn’t bank on everyone coming back.” She said, more of a warning than anything. She knew that somehow, that tree had helped with her coming back. That the power that surrounds Beacon Hills was something that no one fully could understand. But it didn’t mean there wasn’t something that had to be exchanged for her life. The tree chose to keep something in balance, and she’s grateful, but still cautious to put anything fully into the tree’s power.

For too long, she had been an name inside circumstances. An eternal recollection, an endless remembrance about everything who happened around the Hale family, an little fragment of when everything started --- and would have resumed if he had meddled or not. His father would have ended up being involved inside that business, and of course, actually, naturally he would have put his nose on it --- Maybe, greatest new of the century was, he wasn't an werewolf ! He wasn't one of these pleasant forests loving beings, in which presence of the moon remained an delicate physical presence … in wich he had to being honest, he didn't really pay attention to it much. As sweetness of the night or lightness of the daylight have no particular difference for him. Amusement inscreased around her laugh. How he was feel indirectly immensibly flattered about that notion of terror … It was his time to laugh amusingly. It was his time to expressing all playfulness he can do. Oh. It had been merely an foreshadowing. Terror he experienced back then, uncontrollable anxious sentiments who embraced his entire body, merely were preparation for another terror he would personally and physically experienced --- before savour every instant. Before feeling rightfully in his place inside an seat where he had full control over circumstances. Something he came to crave indirectly ! Wishing to understand these reflective impressions of something magical hanging in the atmosphere, of the strength hold by his hands --- and yet, remembering to himself he was simply an human being with limitations.

❝ More than you can imagine~ ❞ It was his only sentence he could express towards terror. There was no more emotion towards expression of werewolf features --- he remembered looked at them as they were nothing, he remembered appreciating discomfort in middle of werewolves features having no idea how to react to him, he remembered how he had an upper-hand and didn't have to being worried for these pleasant presences … It wasn't something he would forget. It wasn't something he wanted to forget. Once more, her compliment inscreased joyfulness. ❝ It's quite one of passion of mine~ ❞ An hobby in which no one could understand why he insisted so much to meddling over something ! ❝ Oh. ❞ References she giving him flattered more. ❝ Well, my dad is mad at me every time he thinks I'll be an good obedient boy not being that curious --- They know me there so I don't hesitate to ask while my father's back is turned. Among other things. Hearing things directly from my dad helps. ❞ That last sentence was an half confession he manipulated his father. Main concerned was perfectly aware of it, and yet, he managed to trick him fine ! There was an pause concerning possibilities made by that single following sentence. An remnant of guilt and sadness expressed themsleves in middle of his brown eyes, as he wasn't sure how to answer that last sentence. ❝ Sometimes, the dead must stay dead … however there is always surprise around. ❞ No, he wasn't going to expand too much over that ritual and consequences associated to it who making him temporary experiencing death …. where everything truly had been transformed for him. He swallowed still. ❝ Sometimes touching too much death at a time bring unexpected consequences along the way. Not in the way someone could have expected it. ❞ He mused slowly. ❝ I can consider myself lucky that town remained normal before becoming an beacon. ❞

[sillygardenduckpanda]

You Were Always Mine (Part 17)

That evening, Alastor drove the two friends to the Winter Formal. Kieran and Artemis arrived the same time as Jackson and Allison, Stiles and Lydia.

"Wow" Stiles breathed. "I always said that you're a princess, didn't I?" He said with a soft smile on his face.

Artemis wasn't used to having to attend school events because Hogwarts hasn't hosted another shindig, not since the Yule ball back when the Triwizard Tournament was hosted at the castle. But she was used to attending social gatherings and functions within the pureblood circles. She simply dressed as she would for one of those occasions.

Artemis blushed prettily, "Thank you, Stiles. You look pretty handsome yourself."

Lydia on the other hand, looked her up and down slowly with pursed lips. "You do know that it's a high school formal, right? Not some aristocratic soirée." she said mockingly.

Artemis breathed in deeply before releasing it. She knew that there's more to Lydia than what she's portraying, that this mean girl, shallow persona was just an act. She can read a person better than most. She grew up in a social circle where everyone wore a metaphorical mask. But it still got to her. Right now it was taking everything in her not to lash out. She was on such a short fuse lately that it didn't take much to get her annoyed.

Her eyes narrowed at Lydia and that was the only indication that she was feeling irritated. "Well, Lydia. It's a good thing that I am an aristocrat, then. I have reason to look like a princess wherever I go." she said in faux calmness while the rest of the group just looked on in slight alarm.

Lydia only rolled her eyes and focused her attention on Kieran. "Who is he?" She asked with an appreciative smile.

That made Artemis snap out of her bad mood. "Please, excuse my atrocious manners." she addressed the whole group with a face flushed in embarrassment. Just because the spoilt brat in the group messed up her mood, didn't mean she had to forget her manners. Her father would be aghast at her forgetting to introduce her peers. "This is one of my best friends, Kieran." she gestured to the rest. "These two beautiful ladies are Allison and Lydia." as she introduced them, he bowed and gave an air kiss on the back of their hands. 'Pureblood mannerism is so out of place here' Artemis thought in amusement as Lydia almost swooned and Allison blushed.

"And these two gentlemen are Jackson and Stiles" Artemis finished the introduction. After they all exchanged pleasantries, they headed in towards the hall.

"A princess?" Kieran asked with a raised eyebrow as soon as they were dancing, referring to Stiles' comment.

"Hush you," she smiled slyly. "I may or may not have shown him my castle."

"Karma Artemis Sauveterre!" he whisper-yelled in outrage, "Does your father even know that you had let a muggle into your home?!"

"Of course he does. And he didn't react as strongly as you are right now." She said stiffly.

"Well, clearly you didn't obliviate him if he can still refer to you as princess." he said in frustration. "Better hope MACUSA doesn't find out that a muggle knows about our kind. They are not as lenient as the British Ministry of Magic."

Artemis then decided not to tell him about the others who knows about magic as well. He'd probably burst a blood vessel all while looking like he was calmly talking about the weather. She just had to reassure him about Stiles.

She suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe and felt a tight pain across her chest. "I...know he...won't tell." she said haltingly, trying to take deep breathes to calm the slight panic she was feeling along with her symptoms.

"Karma, what's wrong?" Kieran asked in alarm.

"Chest.. pain.. can't.. breathe" she gasped weakly as she tried to pull away from him.

He caught her just in time when she went limp in his arms. "Nimue's scrotum. Why did you have to faint amongst all of these muggles," he murmured to himself in panic.

He looked around subtly and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that no one noticed. He tried to carry her out without alarming anyone but one of her muggle friends saw him and rushed over to them.

"Hey, what happened to her?" Allison whispered in alarm when she saw them, concern written all over her face.

"She fainted in my arms" came Kieran's response. "It was so sudden, one moment she was fine, the next she was unconscious."

When they got outside, Kieran noticed that Alastor wasn't there with the car and could kick Artemis for telling the man that they'll find their own way home.

"Uh...Allison?" He began hesitantly and Allison immediately caught on without him having to say a word.

He couldn't apparate or call a house elf to take them to the manor since there were too many stragglers all over the parking lot.

Allison looked around for someone to take them to the hospital but Stiles wasn't in the hall and Jackson was drunk, including a few others she'd trust them with.

She then subtly got a teacher to take them to the hospital and he thanked her before they drove off.

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face when they arrived at the hospital. He had to get to an isolated spot to send a patronus - he needed to get intouch with Lord Sauveterre.

As soon as he got the patronus from Kieran, Nicolas apparated as close to the hospital as he could.

He looked quite imposing when he walked into the building. He saw Stiles, Jackson and who he assumed was the muggle authority and he headed straight for them.

Just as he was about to speak, Kieran appeared down the corridor.

"Lord Sauveterre" He greeted Nicolas stoically.

"Kieran!" he said in relief, "Where's my daughter? Where's Karma?" he asked worriedly. He didn't even care that his composed mask was slipping, he just needed to get to his daughter.

"Wait" Stiles replied, "Artemis is here? Where?" He asked Kieran.

Kieran looked at Nicolas, who gave a subtle nod. "This way," he turned and led them to her room. Noah followed behind the small crew, utterly curious about the people he's never seen in Beacon Hills before - people his son seems to be familiar with.

"Oh, daughter" Nicolas whispered as he walked to her bedside. She looked fragile and pale.

"Lord Sauveterre" Nurse Winston came into the hospital room. "I have some news on Lady Sauveterre. Unfortunately blood replenish..."

Nicolas then gave a slight cough and subtly gestured towards the door where Stiles and his father was stood against the wall.

"Apologies, Lord Sauveterre. She would need to stay overnight because she will need an iron infusion. We have not yet determined the cause of her condition." Nurse Winston said with apology. "The doctor will brief you at once in the morrow."

"Thank you, Madam Winston" Nicolas said with a tight smile. The nurse nodded and left the room again.

"How long has she been here?" Stiles asked Kieran while noting how pale she looked. "She looked fine this evening.". Stiles couldn't stop starting at her, trying to identify the emotions that were welling up in him. His hands were trembling slightly, he felt scared not only for her, but towards the feelings that were warring within him. He just knew that nothing bad should happen to her. He wouldn't be able to handle that.

"Probably a glamor charm," Kieran said softly so only Stiles and Nicolas could hear. Then he spoke at normal volume. "She had trouble breathing and complained about chest pains when we were on the dance floor. Next thing, she fainted in my arms."

Nicolas looked at Kieran. "Thank you for watching over my daughter tonight." he gave him a pat on the shoulder, "But you should return home, son. Lest your parents come looking for you here. Besides, you'll soon need to return to work as well." he said kindly.

Kieran shook his head vehemently, "I'm not leaving" he said with a stubborn tilt of his chin. "She's my best friend. I'll leave once she's regained consciousness." He took a deep breath and his shoulders slumped uncharacteristically, "How would I even focus on work when she's laying here and we don't even know what's wrong?" He whispered.

Stiles walked over to him and gave him a pat on the shoulder as a sign of support and comfort. He didn't even wanna imagine what Kieran was going through. He knew he'd feel the exact same way had it been his best friend in that hospital bed.

Kieran looked up at him and nodded in thanks before getting up and straightening his shoulders again. He would stay strong for his friend and he'll be here when she finally regains consciousness.