I wrote this for a Teen Wolf fanfiction contest, but didn't win. So I'm guessing it's okay to post it here. :)
I hope you enjoy it
Natsumu
"Whoa. Calm down Stiles, you got this man. No pressure, no pressure at all. You're only taking out the hottest girl in school." A nervous laugh escaped my throat, "Yea, no pressure." A smile spread across my face before I could stop it and my hands tightened on the steering wheel. Thoughts of Lydia filled my head so fast that I almost missed the turn to her street. Once again, Stiles, Calm. Down.
I pulled into her driveway and giddy laugh jumped from my throat. My palms where slick as I got out of my Jeep and sweat beads gathered on my upper lip, regardless of the cold. I quickly checked over my self, wiping the sweat from my lip, nervously rubbing my hands on my jeans and quickly sniffing my shirt. This was clean right?
Clearing my throat uneasily I rang the doorbell. The door flew open right as I was anxiously tugging at the collar of my shirt. "I. Uh," A nervous giggle rang through the air. Oh wait, man that was me! "Lydia! Hi! Are you ready?" Shifting my weight to from foot to foot, I watched as she tugged on her jacket and looked in the mirror. I should have said that she looked beautiful, as always, but all that came out was silence. My mouth was hanging open and my heart was pounding in my throat, Lydia always had this effect on me. "Take a picture so a bug won't decided to land in your mouth, Stiles." I perked up at this, "So wait, I'm allowed to take pictures now?!" "You know what I mean," she huffed and a small smile started forming as she turned away from me to grab her phone off the counter. "Do I? Because usually my meaning of something is always off from what other people's meanings are." I yammered nervously and stumbled after her as she walked down the driveway to my car.
The car ride was disastrously awkward, worse then I had even imagined actually. If this was baseball, I would have been kicked off the team for striking out so many times. My jokes, at best, earned me a small tight smile from her, sometimes a small laugh. Was I trying to hard? Maybe it was the shirt.
Lydia wanted to see this crazy chick flick that I couldn't remember the name to but non the less I dished over the money for the tickets. I was just happy to be here with her and act like I was actually her boyfriend! I opened the door for her and gave her a goofy smile as she turned to look at me.
The movie seemed to drag on forever but she seemed to enjoy herself. A couple times I tried the whole yawning and putting my arm around her technique. But lets just say, they make it look a lot easier in movies. I was silent on the car ride home as she babbled on about the movie and how "hot" and "gorgeous" the main actor was. I never took her to be the type of girl to just..babble.
On her front porch she turned to me "Stiles" she murmured softly while looking at me. "Uh, yea?" I asked, smiling back at her. My heart was pounding, maybe she did have a good time! Did she want to do this again some other time, maybe she was going to ask for a kiss! "Why didn't you take the bite from Peter." Click. Everything inside my body simultaneously shut down and my mind was thrown back to the night in the parking structure. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as a shiver down my spine. "Come again?" I asked clearing my throat and attempting to not look phased. Beads of cold sweat were pooling on my forehead as she gazed right through me into my thoughts and being. "Don't you want to protect your friends?" She asked through clenched teeth, "What about your father? Don't you want to protect him? Huh, Stiles?" I took a step back as she stepped closer to me. I reeled for an answer but for once words failed me.
"Don't you want to protect Lydia, Stiles." A deep hot whisper caressed the side of my face My body froze, I knew that voice. I knew it so well, it haunted every dream. "Isn't that what you want Stiles? To protect everyone?" I was too afraid to look, my eyes where fixed on the full moon that was coming into view as the wind tugged the clouds away. A single bead of sweat rolled down my back and my breathe hitched in my throat. Hot, ragged breathe pounded against the nape of my neck like hail and the moon seemed to swallow me whole. "To not feel helpless any more. To get rid of that dread and confusion."
I choked, my throat seemed to fill with rocks as I rasped out, "No."
Teeth ripped into the side of neck, silence ringing through every inch of me and adrenaline rushing through every fiber of me. The bite. No. No. The ground jerked under me and I was falling, falling straight into the concrete, my eyes still fixated on the glowing orb in the sky. "Don't lie to yourself, Stiles." Piercing red eyes filled my vision, dancing and taunting me as I choked on the ground holding my neck. Please no. "It's no use lying, everyone could see it. How you envied Scott, you wanted that power, and now you have it." Peter's voice ricocheted in my skull, "No use in pretending Mr. Stilinski."
"No!" I cried, jerking forward.
My vision was blurry and a bright fluorescent light blinded me. I scrambled, reaching for my neck and running my hand over it feverishly. Nothing. Not even a bump of a fresh scar, just smooth skin. Wearily I lifted my eyes and was met with a few people staring at me from across the room. "Heh..umm." I cleared my throat and sat up straight. "Forgot my history paper was due today," I offered to them as they looked away and went back to what ever they were doing before.
"Stiles Stilinski?" I looked up at the women standing in the doorway to an office. She was apparently the school's guidance councilor, I had never met her before. "That's me." I replied standing up. Hosting my backpack onto my shoulder and grabbing my lacrosse stick I followed her into her small office. "Please, sit." She looked at me and gestured to the chair in front of her desk. Plopping down in the chair I set my bag on the ground next to me and balanced the lacrosse stick on across my lap. "Who are you?" I asked leaning forward a bit. "My name is Ms. Morrell, but we aren't here to talk about me, Stiles."
The meeting seemed to drag on forever, I wasn't really in the mood to discuss how things had affected me. Even if I could tell her, I would have to reveal way to much and that would for sure land me in some heavy duty counseling because I would sound absolutely insane. I handled this situation just like I handled every situation, heavy sarcasm with truths sprinkled in to make it sound sincere but defensive, just like any other teenage who is unwilling to talk. After about half an hour I think she realized she wasn't going to get much out of me. "Stiles, just think about something for me. Think about what Winston Churchill once said, "If you're going through hell, keep going."'
"If you're going through hell, keep going" It kept ringing through my head, over and over again. When she said it, everything stopped, it sent my mind reeling. That single quote reached out its hand and flicked the off switch inside me and that awful silent ringing droned through me.
I left her office shortly after, fumbling with the door handle, my palms slick and a sick taste in my mouth. What was that even supposed to mean? Surely I wasn't in hell, a lot worse could have happened to me. The raw feeling at the back of my throat, the gnawing in my stomach and the panic induced by simply closing my eyes, surely it would go away. Right?
I went through hell, but I wasn't still in it, was I?
The cold metal of my car brought me back, shaking the feeling from me like the wind shaking leaves from a tree. I glanced at my reflection in the window and someone unfamiliar stared back. This person looking back looked just like me; pale, a few freckles, dark short hair, and brown eyes, but something was off. Confusion stirred in the eyes, helplessness rested on the corners of his lips, and dread was buried deep in the creases of his furrowed brow. I tried to look past it, I watched the people passing by me, I looked at the clouds, looked at the leaves. I tried watching and looking at everything except the reflection, still, the sad thing continued to stare back. The hum of people's voices and laughter engulfed me and this person in the window, is this what people saw in me? Confusion, helplessness and dread?
Dread. I felt that every night. Every night since I could remember. First it was from my mother, I loved her so much, I still love her. Then my father, all I wanted was to make him proud and happy. Scott soon followed after he changed, my best friend, all I wanted was for him to be safe. Lydia, how could I forget about Lydia, so beautiful and perfect. Such an angel shouldn't have been put through that hell. How could I support them all? Not that they needed or wanted me to support them, but they all needed something, and I wanted to be that something. But I couldn't be the something they needed because each of them needed a different something, right? Is this where the confusion or helplessness sets in? Maybe they are both triggered at the same time, or maybe one triggers the other, I can never make it out because this is the part where I drown. Waiting until my head feels like its about to explode and all I want to do is cling and hold on, but that instinct always kicks in. The water is always there, rising and falling like a chronic pain, never gone, but sometimes almost absent.
The drive home was a peaceful, the only noise was the passing cars and the music on the radio. The tension on my skin seemed to soften like a wax candle after it was lit. I started to feel like my self again. So I kept driving, passing my street, passing the fast food joints, passing everything. I turned down a road that I was familiar with, leaves littered the ground and trees sprung up all around me. My hands tightened on the steering wheel, I couldn't figure out why I wanted to be here, I needed to be here. Pulling off the road I parked under some trees near the gate into the woods. Letting out a deep shaky breathe I shut off the car and sat listening to things around me.
Slowly I pulled the keys out of the ignition and got out of the jeep. Crunch. My feet hit the ground mussing up the leaves and I walked. Then I found myself jogging as if a supernatural force was tugging on my insides, urging me to get their, where ever their was, faster. The light was turning a soft golden color as the sun moved towards the west. I continued running, faster now. A knot in my stomach began to form and the hand pulling tugged harder. It wrapped around my rib caged and pulled, urging me out of my run into a sprint. My mind was spinning, where was I going? The more I thought, the less the hand tugged, the less my instincts rang with need. Don't think.
I slowed down in a clearing, the hand leading me eased and finally let go. The only sound was leafs breaking from branches and floating to the ground and my ragged breathe. Why was I here? My eyes flitted around and I turned in circles trying to identify the place, had I been here before? Realization slowly spread over me. This place, it was the place where my life changed. The place Scott and I had gone to find the other half of the body, the place Scott got bit.
"It could have been you." A voice sounded from behind me. I spun around and came face to face with Peter. Instinctively I took a step back and squared my shoulders.
"I already said no. That was my answer." I spit out through clenched teeth. My heart pounded from the run and adrenaline pumping through my body. "We both know that was a lie." He retorted, shrugging off my aggression like a jacket I opened my mouth to object but was silenced by his blazing eyes. He grabbed my arm firmly, just like the night in the parking lot, and raised it to his mouth. "There's something coming, Stiles," His eyes locked onto mine and I was held in place, rooted to the ground. "And I can give you what you want." "What I want? What do you mean?" I choked out softly. "Don't play dumb, the bite, Stiles. Do you want to fight for what you love, or not?" Everything was silent as I stared into his eyes. My breathe was the only thing I could hear as I stared at him and slowly looked at my arm he gripped in his powerful grasp. Peter slowly raised my wrist closer to his mouth, his eyes still locked on my face.
"Let me ask, one more time." My eyes wandered back to his face, my heart pounding so hard it could have burst out of my chest. Thoughts of my dad filled my head, visions of my mother danced around , her beautiful smile spreading warmth through me. Images of Lydia, crying, bloody, crippled on the lacrosse field and Scott's howls of pain and frustration echoed through me like the night I chained him in his room. I looked into Peter's eyes, searching for something "Do you want to fight for what you love or not, Stiles?"