A connection.

A bond.

A spark of something that was there no matter how much you tried to deny it.

They had found comfort in each other that others wouldn't dare to understand. If anything, others wouldn't be able to understand.

It's under circumstances like these that you're able to find something without searching, and that something is just the thing you need.

It was actually ironic if you thought about it. And if it weren't for the whole 'Hey, you're dad is trying to kill you because you're a supernatural werecoyote, so me and my friends are just going to tranquilize him and hope you don't get caught in one of his bear traps, then we're going to change you back into a girl when you haven't been a girl in eight years' thing followed by her departure into Eichen House, then they probably would've moved on with their lives, never even sparing another glance.

But fate can be a funny thing. Bringing two people together in a life or death situation and guiding them towards love.

While in Eichen House, Stiles had been alone and scared. Alone in his thoughts that weren't exactly his own. Scared for his friends, his family, himself. He had been in a place without mercy but had found an anchor to pull him out of his pit of depression. Even if just for a moment, he was able to find an escape. A safety bubble if you will. With Malia, he had felt safe. As though nothing was able to hurt him.

And when Stiles thought about it, there's a part of him that's glad he put himself in there. Not only had he, for a while, protected his friends, but he had found someone who had gave him a chance. Someone who he would be able to open up to, someone who could relate to him.

Maybe not the whole 'I'm possessed by a Japanese demon' relatable. But the fact that someone needed him as much as he needed them was something that he could never get over.

Malia had needed him and she knew nothing about him. She knew nothing but yet she still trusted him, still accepted him, still tried to seek comfort in him, still loved him.

Love.

Malia did love him.

She might have a different way of showing it, but Stiles still knew. After all, with her being a coyote for eight years you can only expect so much.

But Stiles still accepted it nonetheless. She was different and he liked that. She put an effort to try things, whether it be new food or just getting along with his friends and family. Everything and she tried it, just for him.

And he loved her for that.

Ever since their reunion after Eichen House and the nogitsune, they had been stuck together like glue. Stiles telling her about how 'rules of the wild don't apply to friends' and Malia trying to understand the terms of 'we don't leave our friends for dead' or how 'math is essential'. That was a tough one, if you were to ask her, but it was progress.

He had found light in her darkness. Looking at her and understanding why she acted the way she did.

She was scared.

To anyone else she would come off as being a bitch, with her aggressive behavior and snarky comments. Not caring for the well being of anyone other than herself.

But it was her instinct. And she trusted her instinct even more so than herself. Being brought into a whole new world, away from her home, without any familiarity is bound to scare anyone.

Seeing through her façade and being able to get to know the real her, was something Malia didn't allow everyday.
She had seen Stiles and found someone she could trust, someone she could put her faith into, and she allowed him to see her for who she was. And with that he accepted her, flaws and all.

He had been accepting to the fact that she was, truly, a Hale. He had wanted to protect her. All he ever wanted to do was protect her.

In Eichen House. Watching in horror as Oliver had gone and attempted trephination on her, Stiles had screamed. He had begged and pleaded for her safety, for Oliver to just stop. And as a result he had taken final measures. Stiles had given up to the nogitsune, letting him in for the safety of Malia.

Back in Mexico when she had ran. Ran into the night, into the hands of an unknown danger, he had followed. Ready to flee into the dark along side with her, ready to abandon his precious Jeep without a second thought. But circumstances proved that he had a job to do, to fix the Jeep, more for the greater good. She had came back, looking into his eyes of frantic and worry. Reassuring him of her promise to never leave without him. It was her way of telling Stiles that she loved him.

At the school. Holding her shivering form. Wrapping her in his jacket that carried his scent. Looking around to see all of his friends on the brink of death. He knew what he had to do. It hurt him to do so but he had left. He had stood up crouched before Malia. Sealing his love with a kiss and the promise of returning. That he would never leave without her. He had them come to stare into the face of death, watching a gun being shoved right between his eyes. He had thought of her. How she was in the vault, without him. He wouldn't tell the assassin where they were, where she was. And he survived. With the shot of Agent McCall.

And all the times in-between. How he had protected her from the truth. About Peter, about herself. He had kept her from slipping away. Had held her from the dark and kept her at bay. She had eventually found out. In a mix of hurt and betrayal, she had left. She had yet to understand why he had lied at that point. And it left the both of them heartbroken.

But she had returned. Every single time, she had come back to him. Back to what she knew, to what made her feel safe.

With him, she found comfort. She felt serenity with him, a sense of familiarity, of home.

Stiles was her home. 'Home is where the heart is'. And Stiles had her heart. He held her heart and she held his. Because that's what love was. Their own form of love.

And all love comes with truth.

So she told him.

She told him everything about her life. How her 'father' couldn't even look at her. As she looked at him all she could see were the eyes if a stranger. Someone whom she didn't recognize anymore. About how she had wished her mother and sister dead. How she had deemed it her fault.

But Stiles knew. He knew that it wasn't her fault, it wasn't anyone's fault really. It had been something Malia couldn't control, but it was okay. It was okay because even if it wasn't her fault, she still felt guilt. The guilt that tells you that you still care. That you're human. That even though you may slip, you still redeem yourself. And that was progress.

She then came to a conclusion. She wanted Stiles. She needed him. Needed him to be her constant. To be something that would never change, never leave her.

And he wouldn't. He would never leave her, never leave without her. He had made that a promise. Something they could hold for themselves.

And she knew. She's known since the boat house. She had tried, tried to push him away with threats and the like. She wanted him to go away, to leave and be safe from the monster she thought she was. He had stayed with her. He had stayed with the promise that it was okay, and how control was overrated. And he trusted her. He allowed her free because he trusted that she wouldn't hurt him. That she loved him.

And she didn't hurt him. She kept him safe because she loved him.

She loved him with every fiber of her being.

Everything she's done was to protect him. Because in the wild coyotes have instinct.
To protect what is yours. But she wasn't in the wild anymore. And Stiles,

Stiles was her instinct.