To Fill a Hole
The first time she heard it he was kneeling on the hard floor, almost knocked out from the punch he definitely wasn’t expecting.
The second time, when his rambling got interrupted by the lean curves of her naked body, barely hidden even with all the steam surrounding her.
That same night was the third.
When his soft hands started warming up her cold ones, sending electric shocks through her muscles. And she was the girl who spent eight years trapped inside of a body that wasn’t entirely hers. She wasn’t afraid of anything. That’s why she did the only thing that was on her mind in that instant.
And then, when her lips collided with someone else’s for the first time, she practically felt it in her own chest. That quick, yet steady heartbeat she would hear every time after that. Whenever he was excited, anxious… angry. Or simply near her. And just after her reassuring nod and his lips claiming hers for the second time in that minute, it became her favorite sound.
_____
“Don’t forget me, Lydia. You’re the only one that could help. You are the banshee. They’re all gonna forget… Ev- Everyone… Y- You have to help them. Please… Don’t forget me.”
“I won’t.”
_____
It happened the very next morning. Lydia was on a school parking lot, standing dumbfounded, her eyes glued to a blue jeep, its owner nowhere to be found. With a shaky hand, slightly away from her ear, she held her phone. The distinctive sound of quick deafening beeps made everything else around her fade away.
Number non-existent.
She maniacally run inside the building, thousands of thoughts rushing through her head uncontrollably. She was looking, afraid she’ll never find. Afraid it was too late. Then she saw Malia in one of the classrooms. “Malia! Where is he? Where’s Stiles?!”
The girl looked confused, “What? Who’s Stiles?”
“No. No! Oh my god! This is not happening! It’s no-” Lydia was shaking her head, trying to convince herself she was still in her bed, dreaming. “It’s not real.”
“Lydia, what’s wrong? Are you ok?” Malia was starting to worry.
“Please, Malia. Tell me you remember him,” she squeezed the girl’s upper arms. “Tell me you know who Stiles is!”
“I’m sorry Lydia. Should I?” Malia looked frightened. “Who is he? A friend of yours?”
Lydia suddenly felt all power drain from her body. Her legs wobbled and she collapsed to the ground.
“Lydia!” Malia knelt down, letting her friend to lean on her for support. “Please tell me what’s wrong. I don’t know how to help you. Who are you talking about?”
“Sti- I’m sor- so sorry…” she was mumbling, but Malia would’ve heard her even if she was miles away.
“Shhh… It’s ok. Just tell me what happened to this… Stiles.”
Lydia gulped, her throat hurting from the knot that formed there, and barely audibly she voiced, “He’s forgotten.”
Malia froze. Chills eerily crossing down her spine. She didn’t even know this Stiles person, but she felt a hard tightening in her chest, leaving her with a dull, aching burn. Like all of the sudden someone pushed their hand inside of her, ripped an important part of her out, and left a huge hole in the place where her heart should be.
Forgotten. Sadly, Malia knew what that meant. “We need to find Scott. Now.”
_____
The boy was sitting on the ground, his back tiredly leaning against the wall, head bent down in defeat as he absently watched his shaky hands. A familiar feeling of helplessness was suffocating and an overwhelming fear welcomed him again.
In the end, of course it was Lydia. She was the harbinger of death after all. It made sense she was the last one to forget. But even though he was glad at least one of his friends hadn’t forgot him and would hopefully remember him long enough to warn the others, he still couldn’t bare the fact no one else knew who he was.
The way his father spoke in unusually distant, professional tone like he was a complete stranger, got buried deep in his mind and he was sure he will never be able to forget it. Then his best friend, looking at him like he’d never seen him before. Like he was just some guy. Another human being whose name was on his list of this-person-needs-saving-today.
Then, his mind wandered off to the last three hours of his life above the earth. Light, sorrowful smile tugged the corners of his lips. In this morbid reality, he was strangely satisfied, for he spent his last hours with her.
“You have got to be kidding me!” rough voice scoffed above his head.
Stiles groaned, his melancholic thoughts instantaneously got replaced with anger and disgust.
_____
“So, he is our best friend? My best friend?” Scott sighed, “When did this happen?”
Over the past few years, the alpha and his pack have experienced more things than an average teenager should. A lot of people left. Some even run away, hoping they’ll find a better place to live. Others, died. But, how do you cope with the fact that someone you’re supposed to be so close to, someone who was with you through all those obstacles, who stood by you in the worst moments of your life is not just gone, but every memory of them has disappeared too?
“I don’t know. But he warned me yesterday. He knew he was next.” Lydia’s gaze drifted off to her shoes, the same ones she wore the previous day. She never wore the same thing twice in a row. “I guess shortly after that.”
Malia was sitting on the edge of the sofa. Her face blank, look distant. Mind… a million light years away.
Lydia noticed her lack of reaction, “Malia? Are you ok? You haven’t said anything since we got here.”
Malia lifted her head and firmly looked at her friend. “We have to tell his parents,” she spoke calmly. “We know his parents. Right?”
Scott groaned, “How are we supposed to tell these people they have a son they can’t even remember. They won’t believe us.”
“It’s just his dad actually,” Lydia corrected. “And he’ll believe us.”
_____
“I couldn’t sleep last night. Halfway to the kitchen I stubbed my toe. On an aluminum baseball bat. Without thinking, I yelled out a name,” Stilinski was telling the kids.
Scott and Lydia shared a look, “Stiles.”
“I found a room I don’t even remember having,” he continued. “It just appeared out of nowhere. It looks like a… a giant hole in the middle of the house.”
“Deaton said they don’t just erase people from a memory. They erase an entire person. And apparently everything they ever owned,” Scott reminded them.
“His jeep is still here,” Lydia added, “but, I can’t find the keys.”
“Wh- How is that even possible? You just said they take everything!” Sheriff grunted. “Did Deaton mention anything else?”
“They’re called the Ghost Riders. Seeing them it’s a sign they’re coming for the person. Making them a part of the Wild Hunt,” Scott explained.
“So, what do we do? What are our options?”
Lydia sighed, “We don’t know. What do you thi-” she turned her head to where Malia was sitting a mere moments before. “Oh, my god! Where is she?”
They started looking around when Scott sniffed, “It’s ok. She’s still here.”
Lydia exhaled, “I thought she was…”
_____
Malia was following a musty smell. Walking up the stairs that looked vaguely familiar, sure she saw that part of the house before. How well did she know it, though? How often did she come here? And what was she doing?
Her legs moved unconsciously. Independently from her brain. Like they knew exactly where to take her. Like they’ve been walking through this halls more than through her own house.
They brought her to a big hole in the wall where doors should’ve been. She took a step inside the dark room. It was completely empty, like a huge gray box. Two windows, that let small beams of light illuminate the center of the room, were broken. Cracks on the ceiling formed a strange pattern, threatening to crush down on her head in any moment. If she was seeing this in some other occasion, the thought of someone burning the place down would probably cross her mind. But, this was not the case.
She moved slowly, trying to mentally place basic furniture where it might’ve stood. Like bed and nightstand. Or desk and table lamp. Was it usually messy, or always in order? Maybe there was a soft carpet right where her feet were. She brushed her fingertips across the rough concrete wall, wondering of the color that used to be painted on it. Was it adorned with pictures… or paintings?
She came to one of the corners and leaned her back, letting her weight slide her down on a cold, dusty floor. She took a deep breath, like if inhaling strong enough would help her catch a scent. And maybe then, she would remember.
But nothing happened. There was no enlightenment, no memories surfacing. Only stress and sadness that came from the living room.
“Who are you?” she whispered into thin air. “Where are you?”
_____
“I’m actually really glad they chose you too. No one ever cared about you anyway. You should’ve been forgotten a long time ago,” Stiles said to the man he wanted to hate more than anything. But he never completely could. Not since he found out he was her father.
“Nice to see you too, Stiles,” Peter looked amused, a bit more than he should.
“Can’t say it’s a pleasure,” Stiles smirked. “So, how long?”
“How long what?”
“Since you took a shower. What do you think?”
“Witty,” Peter still liked the way boy acted in miserable situations. “Four days, if I’m correct. But it’s kinda hard to keep a track of time down here. Or up. No, I’m pretty sure it’s down.”
Stiles wasn’t listening anymore. Instead he was trying not to get affected by the newfound information because, if someone like Peter Hale was still trapped there after four days, it was far from good news. “So, what are we gonna do? I guess you’ve tried something?”
Peter started laughing, like something in his brain suddenly snapped, making him go crazy. “Oh man, you really are an optimistic little spaz, aren’t you?”
Stiles looked at him confused.
“Look, boy. We both know we’re not each other’s favorite person, but we’re going to spend a looot of time together. So, sooner you get used to it, better.”
“What? What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we don’t exist, kid! We’re already forgotten.” He sniffed, and said his final words before leaving the brunet all alone with his thoughts, “I hope you said your goodbyes.”
Stiles watched him walk away. “Somebody’s gonna remember me,” he murmured, “they’ll come for me.”
_____
“Hey,” Lydia carefully sat next to Malia. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” If she was good in anything, it was in not showing her emotions. At least that’s how it was so far. Now she was wondering if the boy could’ve made her react a certain way.
They were quiet for a couple of minutes, before Malia decided to break the silence.
“How did we meet?” she paused, then looked Lydia straight in her eyes. “St-“ she swallowed, “him and me? How well have we known each other?”
Lydia looked at her slightly confused. Probably because she wasn’t expecting Malia to be the one to ask that question.
“Mal, I know you want to know. But it’s a really long story and we’re losing precious time. He could be completely gone in any second,” she said as compassionately as possible.
Malia knew she was right. But she couldn’t keep going with nothing on her mind. She had to fill at least a little part of that emptiness that slowly spread through her whole body. “Please. I have to know. I need to know. Tell me in five… six words and that’s it. Just give me something, Lydia. Anything, and I won’t ask again.”
Desperate plea was something she never witnessed coming from the coyote, and it pained her to see her friend like this. Lydia sighed, “You… you were together. And you loved each other. You still do. Very much.” She decided to leave out the final part. The one where they broke up. Sort of.
“We were together? What does that mean? We’re not anymore? Did we have a fight?” Malia spilled questions in one breath, wanting to find out as much as she could, already forgetting about the promise she made seconds ago.
“No, no!” Lydia quickly interrupted her. “You still are… you just… don’t remember.” And she didn’t quite lie. They were still in love. More than either one of them was willing to admit. But everyone could’ve seen it. In the way Malia would stiff whenever he’s near, sometimes even blush, or the way Stiles would nervously peel his cuticles and steal subtle looks when she wasn’t watching. But Malia needed hope. Something good to hold on to. So, Lydia didn’t want her last thought of him to be the break up.
“Oh,” Malia swallowed again.
Lydia saw a small relief crossing her eyes, so she took Malia’s hands in hers. “He loves you Malia. And you love him. And that is something you should never doubt about,” she smiled kindly.
Malia hastily wiped a traitorous tear she hadn’t noticed sliding down her cheek, and stood up. “Come on. We need to find a way to save him.”
_____
“No! You can’t just tell me it’s over. There must be something we can do! I’m not just gonna stay in this pit hole and let them make me ride a horse, alright?” Stiles burst out once he found Peter again. “I don’t even know how to ride a horse!”
“What do you want me to say, Stiles? We can’t get out of here! You get that? They are going to make us hunters. And once they do, you and me, the world as we know it, it’s all over!”
“Come on, I don’t believe it. Big, great Peter Hale doesn’t have something up his sleeve?” Stiles teased. It was just a slight twitch in older man’s eyes, barely even a micro expression, but Stiles was sure he didn’t imagine it. That was enough to make him dig further, “You know something, don’t you?”
Peter shook his hands, “No! Forget about it!”
Stiles realized he won’t get any information that way, so he decided to continue with another approach. One he was sure would work on the guy. “Hmph… I have to admit, even though I always hated your guts, I actually considered you a clever guy,” he provoked. “Guess now we know who Malia’s got the brains from, huh?”
“You really think that’s gonna work on me? You think I’m that stupid?”
Stiles raised his brows in question, “So you wouldn’t mind losing your freedom… just like that? You’re just gonna… give up?”
The man pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, then sighed. “I’m not even sure if it’s gonna work.”
A glimpse of hope immediately crossed Stiles’ face.
_____
He warned the only person he hoped would remember. His time was ticking. There wasn’t much he could do know, and telling it anyone else would be pointless. Even Scott was powerless at this moment.
But, maybe he had time for just one more visit.
He parked his jeep a couple of blocks away. The night was unusually chilly. His whole body shivered and sharp wind scratched his lungs so much it hurt. Wild howling of the wind was almost entirely suppressed by the pulse pounding in his ears.
Deciding to go to the back of the house, he came close to the window and knocked on the thick glass. “Malia?”
The girl lifted her head from the pillow like she heard a gunshot. Her instincts and the cruel reality of her life made her always be alert.
She was probably imagining. Without having a proper sleep in weeks, it wouldn’t surprise her. Or maybe she did fall asleep and dreamt it.
She tried to concentrate. That’s when she heard it.
Ba bump, ba bump.
“Malia?”
“Stiles!” she rushed to the window with the sound being the only thing in her focus.
_____
Deaton put a jar filled with dark, bluish seeds back on the shelf before looking at the boy. “There is probably one way you can do this. But, you’re not going to like it. And it’s definitely not going to be easy.”
“I don’t care. I’ll do whatever I have to. I’m not gonna stop. Not until I bring them back. All of them,” Scott assured.
The man nodded. “You know the reason you are the only one that remembers him, right?” he pointed at Lydia.
“Banshee powers.”
“Harbinger of death,” he clarified. “You are connected to the underground. Which is the place your friends have been taken to.”
“Wait, does that mean Jordan can remember him, too?” the girl asked.
“Exactly. And you will need his abilities for what you’re about to do. Now, look. I only know this in theory. I never witnessed this kind of situation before.” He sighed before continuing, “You can’t actually kill the Wild Hunt. But you can send them away for a long time. Long enough for them to never come back in your lifetime. Which is actually what they want, they just got stuck here for some reason. Now, to do that, you’ll need a silver sword.”
Scott frowned, a sad memory surfacing his mind, “Kira’s.”
The doctor nodded again. “One more thing, really important. They take lost souls. But sometimes, they also take the dead. Especially if the dead is someone who deserves to be taken. To become… faceless.”
“Wait, what do you mean, like someone who actually died?” Scott’s eyes widened.
“So, what does that mean for us?” Malia interjected.
“Well, you could use the dead in your advantage. Speed up the process of luring the leader. He’s the one you need to use the sword on.”
“Are you saying we have to dig up a dead body now?!” she asked again.
“Um, yes… and no. You actually have to bring them back to life… In a way… The point is, it can’t be just any dead person. It should to be a supernatural, someone who can help you draw the hunters close to you. You have to make them come to you.”
Malia was already tired of the conversation. It was all too shady and she needed a plan. A solution. “Ok, where do we get a dead supernatural being and how do we bring him back?”
“Well, I think the easiest and the fastest way would be to bring someone who’s not entirely dead, but more… sent away… using a… sword?” the man carefully looked the reaction of his visitors.
Malia clenched her jaw, “Theo.”
_____
“Hey,” he said in barely more than a whisper.
“Hey,” was all she replied, before quickly closing the window behind him.
She opened her mouth to speak, to ask him why he was there so late at night. Or to just ask him one of the billion questions that had bothered her over the past three months. But she said nothing. Instead she let herself enjoy his presence for a while. Fill her nostrils with his smell. Internally smile that after a long time, he was there again. In her room.
Stiles slowly turned around, looking across the room. A mellow light from her old lamp selfishly kept his figure in a dark shadow, but she caught a weak, nostalgic smile across his face, “Everything’s the same.”
Malia observed the way his eyes wandered off to the photograph on her nightstand. Engraved, old frame shielding it from damaging. She remembered when Liam took it. The first day of senior year. Stiles had his arm around her neck, with her hair strand curled around his index finger. Their faces were lightly touching and they both smiled widely. She also remembered how they laughed the next day when they caught Scott and Lydia in the distance, waiting for them by the school entrance with clearly not so amused expressions.
The silence started to make her anxious and she finally decided to speak, “So, what’s going on? You ok?”
He scratched the back of his neck nervously and turned to face her completely, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Malia furrowed her brows, carefully studying him. Most of the time she didn’t need her heightened senses to know how he truly felt. “You don’t seem fine.”
“You mean I don’t smell fine,” he corrected, the same smile appearing again. “Hmph, yeah, I know you guys will never stop monitoring my emotional state.”
“Sorry,” Malia looked at the ground, slightly ashamed.
She knew how that felt. There were times when Scott did the same thing on her. Especially lately. When she unintentionally started to project tiredness and depression. She smelled more and more like stress then her usual smell. But that was the thing. Ever since they’ve known her she had the smell of mild happiness, a lot of confusion, and a huge amount of Stiles. And once he was gone, she stopped having that one thing in her life that made her forget about her past. Even if just for a couple of minutes. Her anchor that made her firmly stand on the ground whenever she felt like collapsing. So her natural, daily smell changed.
“It’s ok. I’m kinda used to it,” he assured her. Then something hit him, and he looked at her bed, confused. The pillowcase and sheets were only slightly wrinkled, giving the impression like someone was only resting on the top. “Did you sleep at all?”
“Um, not much. I can’t really sleep,” she mumbled the last part.
The concern on his face was evident, “Why?”
“I- I don’t know. I just, I can’t… fall asleep.”
“How long has this been going on?” he took a few steps towards her, only then noticing small puffiness under her eyes that he hadn’t seen before, due to usually trying not to look at her directly in the eyes. He instinctively moved his hand to reach her face, but quickly stopped himself.
“Just a couple of days,” she lied. “It’s not a big deal. It’ll pass.”
Stiles exhaled deeply, than took another step closer. “You should’ve told me. I could’ve helped you.”
Malia instantly tensed. She stood there, pinned to the ground. “I- I- I don’t- I,” the girl stuttered. She never stuttered.
She stared at him as he took one more, slow step. Standing so close to her that she felt his hot breath on her face, made her more nervous than it did the first time they’ve kissed. She felt all feelings coming back like a hurricane. Her blood boiled in her veins and adrenalin hit her as that familiar knot formed in the pit of her stomach.
Stiles tried to steady his breathing, but he knew she could hear the way his heart threatened to burst out of his chest like a volcano.
Even on a dim light she looked beautiful. Then, he saw her blushing. And that was enough to give him all the courage he needed. Gently, he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his thumb lightly brushing her cheek along the way.
Her eyes involuntarily closed as she leaned into the touch, and her heartbeat went raging like never before.
He caressed her earlobe as he watched her dazed, heat invading his entire body. Her lips slightly parted and he trembled, the need to feel their softness again making his own lips burn. Slowly, he slid his hand under hair at the nape of her neck, and she opened her eyes just when the space between them became unbearably small. Like opposite sides of two magnets, they were pulling each other closer until they collided. Merging into a kiss so tender, yet so firm. The warmth radiated through them, awakening their every muscle.
“Malia,” he whispered slowly, as if the word was his last breath. As if her name was his last prayer to God. He finally understood a reference of a lover’s kiss to the need of oxygen.
Her arms ran up his spine until his body pressed against hers tightly, leaving no space in the middle, and he felt the beating of her heart against his chest. He intertwined his fingers around her neck, deepening the kiss. It was a desperate kiss. The interchange between two people who believed their lips would never meet again. His tongue delved into her mouth, tangling with her own as they put all of their emotions into it. And Malia felt every single one in the air. Clear and distinct.
Passion.
Desire.
Love.
An inexplicable mix of sadness and happiness.
“I’m sorry. I’m so so-“ he cried out against her lips when suddenly he felt her cold fingertips lightly pressing over his mouth.
“Shh,” her nose slightly brushed the tip of his own, “don’t say anything. I know.”
A single tear rolled down his left cheek, and she gently brushed the salty liquid with her thumb, his eyes never leaving hers. He got lost so deep in them that for a moment he simply forgot to breathe. If they were the last thing he was destined to see on this earth, he would gladly die or let the hunters take him in that very moment.
But he was only a human, after all. And they always crave for more.
His hands trailed under her shirt, softly grazing that sweet spot at her lower back and he could practically imagine the way it made her toes curl. It was surreal how much his body ached to hold her, have her even closer. He pulled the silky fabric that kept him apart from her skin over her head as she immediately did the same, then leaned in to kiss her neck. Slow and tender.
Suddenly, he slid his hands down her thighs and pushed her up, making her jump and she instantly crossed her legs around his waist. He slightly bit her neck and her nails unintentionally dug into his bare shoulders, a low groan of pleasure escaping his throat. He gently put her on the bed, then pulled away to look at her. Her pupils were wide and dark. Her lips swollen and pink. He lightly brushed his thumb over them and after what seemed like an eternity, his eyes were blessed with her smile again. Intimate smile, shaped solely for him. His mouth mirrored hers before their lips connected again. This time in a stronger, fiery kiss.
_____
Liam swung the sword above his shoulder, its blade viciously pointing toward his feet, before pushing it into the ground with every ounce of his strength. The impact formed a crack that spread over the hard floor like a lightning. About thirty feet ahead, the cracks stopped and concrete started falling.
Scott, Malia, Lydia and Liam stood in expectation. For several seconds nothing happened. Then a hand, scratched and dirty, firmly hit the rough surface, quickly followed by a familiar face showing itself in the dark.
“This was a bad idea,” Liam’s voice softly echoed through the air.
_____
“Just to be clear, this is only a myth,” Peter mentioned.
“Fine,” Stiles held back an eye roll.
The man inhaled, then said it matter-of-factly, “We have to kill the leader. Well, not actually kill, but-”
“That’s not that bad,” Stiles cut him off. “At least we don’t have to kill all hunters or blow up the entire underground.”
Peter slightly cackled, “Don’t be so optimistic. Trust me, it’s not as easy as it sounds.”
“Why?” the boy frowned.
“We need something we don’t have and pretty much have no way of getting.”
Knowing that the answer won’t be good, he went on anyway, “What?”
“A silver sword.”
_____
It was silent once everyone gathered in Scott’s living room, but the air screamed anger and hostility. Malia stared at the guy who took everything from her and people she loved. Even a glimpse of remorse that flashed through his eyes wasn’t able to change what she felt for the monstrous being, dangerously close to her claws. She despised the fact they needed help from him. He was the reason Kira was compelled to leave with skinwalkers, he sent Lydia to Eichen and killed many innocent people, including his own sister. It was his fault Sheriff was on a verge of death, his fault Mason turned into the Beast. He deceived and shot her, left Deaton to die by the hands of the Desert Wolf. Manipulated Liam into killing Scott and when his devious plan hadn’t worked, he murdered her best friend. In cold blood.
And now he was standing calmly in front of her, barely six feet away. Only one long step and she would be on top of him, hitting and scratching until his face would look so distorted no one would even believe he’s a human. On the other hand, he was everything except human.
Then a though occurred to her. What did he do to Stiles? Sheriff was his father. That must’ve been the most terrible time of his life. But what if that wasn’t the only way he hurt him? And just like that, thoughts were tearing her mind apart and hatred built up, threatening to turn her into killing mode. But, she knew what they were here to do. And her priority was Stiles. So she swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
“Let’s skip the whole ‘I’m sorry’ crap and ‘We forgive you’ crap, cuz you’re not sorry and we don’t forgive you,” she hissed at the guy. “We brought you back to life and if you don’t want to be immediately put back under, you better do what we tell you to do.”
The boy shortly glanced at Scott before returning his gaze to Malia, “What do you need?”
_____
“Are you serious?” Stiles spouted.
Peter shrugged.
“Well, do you have a sword?”
“Oh yeah, of course, I’m wearing it around my belt! It’s kinda a new style I’ve been tryin’ out late-” he started in a mocking tone.
Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation, “Okaaay… Do you have any suggestion on where to find this… Excalibur?”
“Isn’t that thing made of metal?” Peter asked bluntly.
“Wh- No, it’s a silver sword with golden handle,” his nerdy side blurted out. “Seriously, have you ever read a book?”
“I didn’t really have much time for school. You know, between killing and having sex,” the man smirked. “Made only one kid during that time. Count that as a win.”
Stiles made a fist, barely resisting the urge to punch the guy.
“Oh, don’t worry. I still love my little girl. She’s fierce.”
The brunet took a calming breath, forcing himself not to get sucked into this disturbing and unbelievably inappropriate game. He pushed his thoughts away and tried to focus again. “Alright, there must be another way. How can we get to a silver swo-” he paused, then trailed off, “it’s not about the sword.”
Peter furrowed his brows in confusion.
“It’s about what it’s made of,” Stiles’ eyes widened as his mind cleared. “Right?”
“It’s about silver,” Peter concluded and the boy nodded.
Stiles took a quick glance at their surroundings, “There are a lot of girls here…” He raised his eyebrows, but the other one looked even more confused, “Girls wear jewelry…”
Peter scoffed, “So what, your plan is to find a silver ring and propose the guy?”
“No, we just have to make him- he- we need to put it inside of him somehow. It’s like that time Allison destroyed the Oni,” he paused. The recollection of his friend losing her life for the people she cared for, surfacing without a warning. He never saw it happen, and for that he was grateful. But he still felt it very often.
She was just like him. A human, with no special powers to protect her. But she was strong and brave. She was a warrior.
Stiles sighed, pushing the sad memory in the back of his mind. “She found a way to make the arrow stay in, long enough to kill him.”
“Sooo-“ Hale waited for brunet to explain further.
“We make him swallow it,” he added matter-of-factly.
“O- Oh yeah… right!” Peter quickly touched his temples like he just had an epiphany, “H- How did I not think of that before?! So, we’re just gonna go to him, offer him a candy and say ‘Don’t worry, it’s not made of silver!’ What exactly is your plan Stiles?”
“Why are we still talking about this? Let’s just find something silver first, and we’ll figure out the rest later!” Stiles felt nauseous. They were utterly unproductive at the moment and he needed actions.
“Do what? Come on, explain to me this brilliant plan of yo-“ the werewolf started nagging again, but was quickly cut off.
“Well, do you have a better idea? Cuz if you do, I’m totally up for it! Really, don’t hold it back! Anything will do! ‘Cause I would much rather do something, anything and fail, than to just sit around and wait for my life to be over!” Stiles yelled in frustration. He had to find a way. He needed to go back. But when Peter kept quiet after a while, Stiles slowly nodded. “Okay, then.”
_____
Scott sprinted towards the pungent smell. His werewolf senses fully alert and he was sure he never ran this fast before. Even when he was running away from something.
It was different now. His friend was in danger and it slightly surprised him how much he cared for her. He’d been following the scent for nearly twenty minutes now. She was smart and she moved so fast he almost lost her two times. But, she was scared. On top of that, her newfound strength did the opposite of helping him in this situation. How did she even lose control? She’d been having her mother’s powers for three months now, yet this never happened before.
He ended up on a car junkyard, when he finally came to a full stop. No footsteps to be heard anymore. It was strangely silent.
Then, a beautiful, gray coyote jumped over a pile of tires. Her blue eyes gloving in the dark as her paws firmly landed on the ground in front of him.
Now was his chance. The alpha opened his mouth, sharp fangs threateningly growing, as a loud roar pierced through the air.
_____
A familiar warmth woke him up. A slender hand, perfectly fitting between his long fingers, firmly pressed against his exposed chest. He squeezed it tenderly, bringing it to his cheek to softly caress it. Her bare breasts sent a pleasant chill down his spine. He carefully rotated his hips, scared his mind might have deceived him and she was yet another unmerciful dream. As a child who prayed for a gift under the Christmas tree, he shut his eyes tightly and held his breath.
The boy slowly peeked and his lips almost immediately spread into the stupidest, most innocent smile.
She was real. Everything was real.
Her disheveled hear, her rosy cheeks. Her full lips. He glared at her collarbone, her muffled moans still echoing in his ears as now already yellowish marks, almost entirely healed. His will probably stay there for quite some time, which he didn’t mind one bit.
Delicately, so as not to disrupt her peaceful sleep, he moved his hand up and soothingly stroke her hair. Intoxicating, coconut smell hit him like a sedative. He kissed the top of her head, deeply inhaling, when suddenly the reality stabbed him to the core like a nail through a wall.
This. All of this.
It will shortly turn into nothing more, but memories.
He almost choked in an attempt to suppress a sob. Tears crept up instantly and his eyes stung. He buried his mouth in the palm of his hand to stop any squeaky whines from escaping his throat.
After several minutes he finally smothered the aggressive break down.
The brunet pulled his body form under girl and gently laid her down on the mattress. He gingerly brushed her back, then placed a soft kiss on her shoulder blade. She slightly squirmed and snuggled her nose deeper into the cushion.
Quietly, he stood up and started putting his clothes on. With every move he made, every step he took further away from her, his heart ached more. As soon as he grabbed the handle he stopped and swallowed a big lump, before turning to take the last look.
“I’ll come back.”
And with the final whisper, he opened the window. This time, never looking back.
_____
Scott looked at his friend worryingly. The moon, still in his full form, illuminated the night sky. Her hear was messier than usual and the obvious exhaustion tainted her perfect features, but she still stood straight and ready to fight. “Malia,” he gently gripped her by the elbow, “you should know something.”
She looked at him sternly, waiting for the rest.
“I spoke to Lydia about your recent… problem.”
Malia slightly flinched at the word, “Scott, I can worry about that late-“
“No! Listen,” he cut her off, “she told me the reason you weren’t able to control your changing was because… you don’t have your anchor anymore.”
Confusion on her face was slowly increasing. “Wha-“
“Guys!” Lydia broke the line of Scott’s thoughts for a second, but Malia stood like a statue. “Come on!” the girl waved her hand in the direction they were going, “we gotta move on!”
“We’re coming!” Scott voiced before turning his focus back on the shocked girl in front of him. “Mal, you get what I’m trying to tell you, right?”
“Stiles,” she mumbled.
The dark haired boy let out a long sigh, “Remember I told you about Allison?”
The name drew Malia’s intention again.
“She was my anchor… in the beginning. Then I lost her” Malia knew it took him a lot of courage to talk about Allison, but after everything that had happened with the beast, she noticed his voice didn’t tremble as much anymore. “And that made me almost strangle my father once. My mom stopped me. You know what she said then?” Scott looked deeply into her eyes, “Be your own anchor!” he squeezed her upper arms in support. “Until we find him and bring him back, you have to be your own anchor.”
Malia stared at her friend and took a deep breath. Then she put her hand on his and nodded in understanding.
“Guys!” the strawberry blond girl ahead screamed again, before both of them hastily run towards the rest of the group.
”So, are you completely sure you saw them?” Jordan questioned the chimera.
“Yes! I was walking after I left Scott’s house like four hours ago when they appeared. Plus, I’m pretty sure there are no other horse riders in Beacon Hills.”
“Alright, we all remember the plan?” Scott interrupted them.
“Yeah, but how do we know when they’re gonna come for him?” Liam wondered.
“We don’t. That’s why we’re here where we can surround the leader,” the alpha waved his hand vaguely at the woods around them. They agreed the best option is the lookout point, since the attack can be expected from only three sides.
“So, we sit and wait. Great,” younger boy concluded with an obvious lack of enthusiasm.
“They shouldn’t take long,” Malia assured him.
_____
“Give it to me!” Peter shouted as he kept pulling on a woman’s purse that hung over her shoulder loosely, lady persistently tightening her grip over handles.
“Whoa, wait! Stop!” Stiles yelled back at him, but the man continued with his struggle anyway. “What are you doing?”
“She won’t give me the purse!”
“What do you want with a purse? Just ask her if there’s something… important inside.”
“We need that purse, now!” Peter widened his eyes, nodding in the direction of beige leather the blond was firmly squeezing.
Stiles glared at her bag. “Um,” he cleared his throat, “excuse me, miss-“
“Mrs.,” she corrected him.
“Sorry, Mrs.,” he nodded respectfully. “Um, could you tell me if that’s a real silver,” he pointed at chains on her small bag, “please?”
“This is Chanel,” the woman scoffed, offended. Like the statement was supposed to be an answer of its own. She patted the thing, obviously proud of her property, rolling her eyes annoyingly when the two kept staring at her blankly. “Of course it’s silver!”
“Oh, good, good. Great. Ok, um, now… could you, possibly… give it to us?” he asked carefully.
“Are you insane? Of course not!”
“Look lady, taking that purse would be a piece of cake if I let my inner self out right no-!” Hale threatened.
“Oookaaay!” Stiles raised his hands to stop him. He could practically feel his eyes shining blue and fangs growing inside his jaw. If he didn’t want to whiteness a bloodshed caused by werewolf claws, he had to try a different approach.
“Mrs.,” he kneeled by her side, “look, I know you don’t like this guy very much. Trust me, I’m not his biggest fan either. But, we really need that purse, and if you don’t give it to us, I’m afraid he’s going to lose all his patience and not even I am going to be able to stop him. Which means it’s gonna get pretty ugly… And I don’t think that’s what you want.”
The blonde glanced at Peter, than at Stiles again. She squirmed at her seat slightly, then slowly handed her bag over to the boy.
“Thank you,” Stiles sighed gratefully.
“Great. Let’s go!” he heard Peter already turning around before he stood up as well.
“If all you wanted was to rob me, why didn’t you just take the purse right away?” she mumbled behind them. “Why bringing me in this horrible, dirty place?”
“What,” Stiles turned to utter an explanation, “we didn’t-“
“Stilinski,” Peter grabbed him by his elbow, “we don’t have time for this.”
Stiles let it go and continued walking the other way.
“Now what?” Peter suddenly questioned.
“I- I don’t… know,” the brunet looked at the purse confused.
“What? We have silver, what’s next? This was your plan!” the man pointed out harshly.
“I know, I just… didn’t think all the way through yet. I kinda taught we’ll know what to do once we find something.”
“I knew this was a stupid plan,” Peter mumbled.
“Hey, at least I tried some-“
Their discussion was abruptly cut off with fast gallop down the dark corridor.
_____
“You ok?” Malia set down on a big stone next to Lydia.
“I- I feel like… its close,” she murmured.
“The Wild Hunt?”
“No, I- I don’t… know. I mean I think, I’m gonna forget, too… Soon. I can’t explain. It’s just… a feeling.”
“Stiles?” Malia raised her eyebrows and the other girl nodded silently.
The look on her friend’s face made her skin crawl. It was full of sorrow, undeniable sadness and exhaustion. She hated seeing her like that. Ever since Kira left, she and Lydia started spending more time together. As they were so different, she never thought they could bond as much. But they did. And she knew how much it was hard for Lydia, too. Especially after Allison. Just a thought of losing another close friend would destroy her. On top of that, being the only one to remember must have been a gigantic burden. Maybe not remembering is not such a bad thing after all, Malia thought to herself. But it was a double-edged sword.
She sighed, “We’re gonna make it, Lydia. We will. Just hold on to it a little bit more.” Malia gently took her hand and Lydia squeezed it in return.
“It’s been almost an hour,” Liam suddenly whined, breaking their thoughts.
“Be patient,” Scott advised, “they’ll come.”
“Alright, I don’t want to be pessimistic or anything,” Jordan approached to Scott quietly, “but why exactly are we trusting this guy again?”
Scott was about to answer when a bloodcurdling scream pierced through the air, sending everyone in a close proximity flying away. Young deputy ran over to the banshee in a flash, his supernatural instincts immediately forming a bubble around them, shielding her body to suppress the wave of deafening noise.
“They’re coming!” Theo shouted frustratingly and before anyone could react, several horses appeared out of thin green air with their hoofs repeatedly hitting the earth in sharp moves.
Malia was barely aware of a warm liquid sliding from her right ear as she tried to get back on her feet again. She forced herself to concentrate and focused her eyes on the shiny blade lying next to Liam’s legs. Her knees crumbled with every attempt to lift herself up and she began crawling, her claws digging in dirt as she practically dragged her body towards the sword. From the corner of her eye she saw the chimera darting in her direction, but she kept her stare firmly on the sword now only a few feet away.
“Malia!” she recognized the voice as Scott’s. The alpha was already on his heels, reaching her in four long steps only to jump over her spread out body. She refused to follow anything that was happening around her. Instead she kept moving forward until her hands grabbed the weapon and she turned just when Scott pinned the other guy to the ground, not allowing the sudden intruders to take him.
Before she could even react, the black horseman stood in front of her. Instinctively, she swayed the sharp blade and bolted forward with determination and a hostile crease between her brows. The sharp tip went through dark torso, getting stuck in the middle. Before anyone realized what was happening, greenish light surged out of the unearthly creature like a bolt of lightning, until all that was left, was black dust, slowly falling to the ground.
In what couldn’t be more than seven seconds, somewhere between destroying explosion and confused stares, another horde of hoofs broke the unpleasant silence and multiple riders started dropping bodies on the ground like sacks of potato.
Bodies. Dead bodies?
Malia’s heart stopped and her limbs went numb. Cold sweat poured through her skin drenching her shirt like all of the sudden she started melting. Disintegrating.
Fast movement flashed before her eyes. Only then did she realized her friends had already started looking through the pile of possibly dead limbs.
Another scream. But this time she didn’t feel the need to cover her ears as she turned to its source. Lydia dropped to her knees with Scott right beside her, Jordan and Liam quickly catching up to them. Their backs turned to her as they made it impossible for her to catch a glimpse of what they were looking at, but they hovered over something, or… someone.
Malia winced as she stumbled forward, ignoring a dull ache. Her eyes never left the sight before her, and what she was seeing now made her stop in her tracks. Was Lydia hugging someone? When the girl finally moved, she revealed the object of their attention.
A boy.
Messy, dark hair. His shoulders were slightly slung as he slowly lifted his head, revealing multiple dark dots which asymmetrically adorned his pale cheeks in a perfect contrast. His gaze shifted quickly between the alpha and the girl on his other side, before finally settling on her.
Golden, doe eyes almost instantly started transforming into coal-black.
No movement. Silence.
Then, a sharp throbbing pain.
Malia squeezed her palms against her temples tightly, as if the pressure would drive away sudden intruding jabs in her brain. She barely realized most of her friends also scrunched in anguish, when a series of images started flashing through her mind in a lightning speed.
Hey, it’s Stiles… you remember me?
…Not that I would prefer there to be less steam…
I was wondering why you punched me.
We were just trying to help.
You might not like me if you knew any more.
Was that you first kiss?
Wanna try it again?
Just breathe. Breathe with me, alright?
…Like I thought you were leaving!
What’s with all the highlighters, anyway?
It’s gonna get easier, I promise.
…I’m not leaving you… Just listen to my voice!
I’m not gonna run! ‘Cause I don’t think you’re gonna hurt me…
Control, is overrated.
You did it.
I’d never leave you behind.
You might be related to him, but you’re not like him.
Even smart people can do stupid things…
You hate me?
…I can work with that.
Pizza. She like pizza.
The vision. And don’t mock the vision.
I didn’t mean it like that.
It matters to me.
You called her?
Malia…
I’m sorry.
Then everything came to a halt.
She doesn’t feel a cold breeze anymore. It’s warm. Not just around her, but inside her.
Mix of muffled moans echoes in the air. Her claws grow out of her control as ecstasy hits her to the core and she instantly feels a soft flesh under her fingernails. She’s scared she’s gonna hurt him, but then something similar to a growl flees his throat as he tenses above her in bliss. He kisses her roughly.
Their bodies are firmly pressed against each other’s, breaths slowly calming together.
He rolls off of her and circles his arm around her shoulder to bring her closer. He plants a kiss on the top of her head and sighs quietly.
She nuzzles into his neck.
So warm.
Gentle fingertips trace patterns across his collarbones, mapping his skin inch by inch. He shivers.
He strokes her hair, tugging it lightly just above her neck. The way he knows she likes it. “I’ve missed you so much.” It’s almost inaudible, but she hears every word. “I don’t want to leave you ever again.”
The voice is followed by a weird smell spreading through the air. She can’t quite put her finger on it, though she caught glimpses of sadness and worry. But then she felt a strong scent of pure happiness and nothing else mattered anymore.
“Then don’t.”
Malia loses all of her strength before crashing to the ground. Blurred eyes make her hardly see and she blinks repeatedly to clear them, only tears won’t stop. Moments pass in broken sobs.
Then she feels a warm hand on her cheek.
She inhales sharply. A lack of oxygen in her lungs making her dizzy. His thumbs wipe away the never stopping drops and she can finally see.
A gentle smile illuminates his face.
“Stiles-” she starts to speak. She wants to tell him everything and anything. Maybe even punch him for leaving her. But the words get stuck in a lump, and her arms are too heavy.
“I told you,” he looked into her eyes. Deep and intense. “I’m never leaving you again.” He hugged her. In an almost bone-crushing embrace.
Malia could’ve sworn what happened next was supernal.
From somewhere beneath, right against her chest, came a sound. A sound impossible to forget. She smiled.
And just like that, she felt whole again.
