Author's Notes: Kintsugi is the Japanese art of fixing broken objects by patching it with gold (or silver). Rather than being concealed, the damage is celebrated and becomes a defining feature of the object.
First off, I'm almost sure my writing has problems with changes in tense or PoV because I ALWAYS mess that up, so sorry in advance. Comments are appreciated very much and no, I don't own Teen Wolf. :) Also if anyone with experience is looking to beta, I'm searching for one for this story. PS, this does not follow the exact storyline for S3 since I started writing before it concluded.
It's only been a week since the issue with the Nogitsune was settled, and Stiles was still having trouble getting back to the way things were. Scott was trying his best to keep Stiles grounded, but even Scott couldn't be with him 24/7. Still, things could be worse, Stiles thinks vaguely, giving his best friend a smile as he watches Scott take a large bite from his burger, his eyes glued to the screen.
Kira was sitting next to Scott on the couch, their legs pressed together and her hand resting on his leg absently. Kira had been good about giving them space, most likely to try and let Stiles get a feel of normalcy without her hovering, but he made it a priority to invite her along himself the past couple days. He could tell how lonely she was without Scott, and try as he might, even Scott had looked a little deflated without her around.
So here they were, the three of them. Watching The Last Samurai... again. It was the only movie all three of them could agree on, and unlike a couple other samurai films they had attempted, this one didn't make him break out in a sweat by reminding him of the Oni.
They were only about halfway into the movie and Stiles had stopped paying attention about 20 minutes ago. Instead, he was allowing his eyes to roam Scott's living room, his gaze moving from the key hanger by the door to the window, staring out into the darkness and wondering what the rest of the pack was up to. Since regaining control of his body, he'd made it clear that he didn't want to see anyone. Or rather... that he couldn't handle seeing anyone, really.
He had hurt so many people, and regardless of what Scott told him - "It wasn't you man, it was the Nogitsune" - , it was him, because it had been his hands that did it.
No one seemed to get that. But eventually they all had stopped trying to contact him, letting him have time to deal with his "issues". Everyone except Scott, that is. Scott had pounded on the door relentlessly, called his phone over a dozen times, spammed his computer with messages on every social media site he knew Stiles had an account on, and even resorted to ordering a pizza under Stiles' name with the message 'talk to me, dude' written in olives.
When he'd opened the lid to the pizza, he had stood there and gaped at it for a solid minute of dumbfounded perplexity before bursting into laughter. He laughed until his sides ached, until he was gasping for air, until tears burned his eyes and suddenly he wasn't laughing at all. Then Scott was at his side, saying his name with that kicked puppy expression... and that had been that.
He didn't let Scott in on all his inner demons, because he knew he would just blame himself for not being able to rescue Stiles sooner. Instead Stiles pretended he was okay while Scott pretended to believe him. It was working out so far, right?
Stiles blinks at the flash of movement outside the window. Before he has time to wonder if he just imagined it, someone is knocking loudly on the door, causing Kira to jump a little and Scott to drop the last bite of his burger. Stiles is on his feet in an instant and already turning the knob before Scott has time to finish saying "Wait!"
Stiles glances at Scott before the door gets pushed fully open, revealing a slightly out of breath Chris Argent. "Stiles," he greets mildly, doing well to mask his surprise at seeing the kid he was willing to kill only seven days prior. "Mr. Argent, "Stiles replies stiffly, noticing the brief once-over he does of Stiles, as if looking for a third arm or something equally abnormal that would indicate Stiles isn't himself.
Or maybe the third arm isn't needed after all, because Chris meets his eye and gives him a sympathetic smile that makes Stiles want to cringe. He hates those kinds of smiles.
"So!" He clears his throat. "What can we do for you? If you still want to kill me, you'll have to wait in line. Last time I saw Derek, I threw a drink at him - I'm pretty sure I ruined his jacket, so I think he has dibs."
He hears Scott make a noise, some kind of cross between a snort and a cough, while Argent furrows his eyebrows. "No, of course not. Stiles..." before he can finish, Stiles starts waving his arms with a wide grin, ignoring the way his heart pounds painfully against his ribcage.
"Nah, its fine. I get it - possessed by a psychotic killing spirit, I would have voted to kill me too. Anyway, what's up?" The question was supposed to sound cheerful, but Stiles can hear how false it sounds even to his own ears.
By this point Scott and Kira have rallied to his side, expressions torn between being disapproving for Stiles' sake or diplomatic because Argent's not supposed to be the enemy here.
Chris pauses for an awkward moment before giving a measured nod, a silent conversation happening between him and Scott. Stiles presses his lips together in a tight line, resisting the urge to punch him because he's the only one supposed to be able to do that with Scott.
"It's Derek."
Stiles swallows unconsciously, feeling his body tense. "Speak of the devil," he murmurs, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his hoodie and staring with mock interest at the floor. Chris quirks an eyebrow, sparing a look in Scott's direction who only shrugs.
"We were working together on tracking down a... thing..." He ignores the suspicious look Scott gives him. "And apparently, it had some sort of spell on it. Whatever it was seems to only affect the person who initially touched it, because it's only altered Derek."
"Altered?" They say in unison, all eyes now fixed firmly on Chris with various emotions plastered on their faces. Mr. Argent rubs at his eyes, looking years older with the sheer amount of exhaustion emitting from him. "It'd be easier to show you rather than explain. I left him with Allison."
They share a look between them before stumbling out the door, Kira pausing only to snatch her coat from by the door.
"What are we waiting for? Let's go," Stiles says with a gesture towards Argent's car.