"Stiles?" came a voice, hesitant and afraid, but slightly angry. Stiles winced, but didn't open his eyes. Even with his eyes closed, everything around him seemed too bright. Everything ached, and he was just so exhausted. Maybe he could just sleep for a little longer…
"Stiles, wake up!"
Stiles obeyed the strangely familiar voice, opening his eyes and then squinting immediately. He was right, it was too bright. His vision was fuzzy and his mind cloudy as he tried to adjust to blink the spots out of his eyes. He saw the person who ordered him to wake up. It was Lydia, in all of her beauty and... anger? She gave Stiles a look of pure relief, but looked like she wanted to slap him. Maybe it was delight. It was certainly strange. Girls were weird.
"Stiles, thank god." she took a deep breath. She looked like she had been up all night; her eyes were bleak –looking and her red hair looked a little less perfect than normal.
"Trust me Lydia, God had nothing to do with this."
Stiles was startled at the sound of another voice. It was Deaton. The thing he was laying on was the metal table that normally held animals. He had so often seen before when visiting Scott at work. Scott… Scott!
"Scott?" Stiles asked; his voice horse. He felt sick to his stomach, but he felt that it was rude to puke in front of friends. Deaton shook his head, which made Stiles confused. He was really tired really; maybe he could just sleep a little longer...
"Stiles!"
Lydia again.
Stiles opened his eyes, although it felt like a hundred pounds. It took some effort, so he tried again.
"Scott?"
Lydia's phone beeped suddenly, and leaving on hand on Stiles' arm, she checked the message with perfectly manicured nails.
"On his way."
Stiles' head was swimming. Kira...Kira? Who was Kira again? He suddenly felt very stupid, glad he hadn't said it out loud. Scott's girlfriend, and very attractive, he might add. Not that he was interested.
Why wasn't he? Was there somebody he...? No, couldn't be. He was pathetically single. Or, was he?
"Derek?"
Wait, what?
Lydia helpfully checked her phone again. "On his way with Malia."
Malia! That's who it was. Malia Hale, a were-coyote who dated him. She had blonde hair... or was it brown? What color were her eyes? Stiles frowned, not remembering. What color were his eyes? Brown? Green? Who was Malia again?
Girlfriend. Right.
Dear lord, he couldn't think straight. Why... why? The fog cleared a little. His name was Stiles. Well, not really, but it was better than his real name. God, who would name their kid-
"Stiles?" Deaton asked.
"Yeah. Awake. Right." Stiles fluttered his eyes open, not realizing he had closed them in the first place.
Stiles tried to sit up, but regretted immediately, almost at once. Ooh, his head hurt. So did his sides. He felt sore all over, like if he had slept on his entire body wrong. Everything just... hurt.
"Don't try to get up." Deaton advised, putting a hand on his shoulder and gently pushing him down.
"Now you tell me." Stiles mumbled, feeling very sick to his stomach. Deaton handed Stiles a bucket, to which he immediately leaned over (on the side away from Lydia, of course) and puked the contents of his stomach out. It was mostly acidic bile, which burned his throat as it came out. He started to cough, trying to clear his lungs. It turned into a 20 second coughing fit, followed by more throwing up.
Attractive.
When he was finally done, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, trying hard to steady his breath, taking deep breaths, after being deprived of oxygen it made him dizzy to take in some much air.
He collapsed back down on his back, still clearing his throat. Lydia looked alarmed as Deaton handed her water bottle. His head ponded, Stiles watched as she unscrewed the cap and helped him get to a semi-setting position, letting him sip the cool water. It was the coldest thing Stiles had ever tasted, although it didn't look like it had been cooled in a fridge.
Taking unsteady breaths, he lowered himself with Lydia's help back onto the metal table. It was nice and cool. Stiles liked that. It seemed pretty soft too, soft enough to maybe drift off...
"Stiles don't leave us."
"Mmmph." Stiles protested, but he opened his eyes once again. Deaton was holding a wooden cup in front of him. It looked like a dowel or something, like he had crushed plants together or something.
"Here." He leaned in close and put the cup right near Stiles' nose. Stiles breathed in the scent of ginger, and maybe something spicier. He wanted to sneeze, but it felt like that sent cleared his sinuses. He felt the fog lift a little more as his breathing got easier, though he still felt terrible, anything but normal.
Deaton pressed something cool on Stiles' chest. Stiles traced a line of plastic and metal to a stethoscope, with the little nubs in Deaton's ears, listening to his breathing.. or maybe his heart beat. Stiles couldn't tell.
It was just then when Stiles realized how serious things were. Lydia was beautiful as always, but not enough make-up could hide he bags under her eyes. Even cool and collected Deaton looked a little worse for wear as he pulled the nubs out of his ears. His Dad... oh god, his Dad.
"Dad?" he could barely whisper the word, feeling the room chill around him.
Lydia grabbed Stile's hand in hers and rubbed her thumb over the top of his hand. "He's a few minutes away. Used his cruiser with the lights on, I might add."
It got quiet as Stiles listened outside, he could hear sirens moving closer. He felt a little happier. His Dad, his Dad was coming. What about his Mom?
Oh, that's right.
How could he have forgotten that...?
He cleared his throat again, and felt an inch in his nose, but held the sneeze back, before finally grasping onto the situation.
What happened?" Stiles asked, slightly confused now. How had he gotten here? He really hated blacking out. Ever since the Nogitsune possessed him, he had been pretty careful about what he did, as so not to piss off or summon any evil spirits.
"What do you remember?" Deaton asked him, scribbling something down on a piece of paper.
"Um, Scott and I, I-I mean Malia... Um, no, I, uh..." Stiles shook his head, rubbing his eyes.
Think. Think. Think.
"School. It was the day before winter break. I was in class, and then, uh, I...?" he shook his hea, helpless. "I can't remember. Why can't I remember?"
"The day before winter break?" Deaton asked Stiles, his face deadpan.
Man, this guy should play poker, Stiles thought to himself.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Coach was going to make us have practice that day. Kira was excited since it was her first real one."
It was all coming back to him now, in a rushing flow of warm memories of the hallways of their high school. It appeared in flashes, Kira's nervous face and Scott's cheeky grin, Malia leaning on her locker…
Lydia suddenly looked a little scared, and coughed. Deaton showed no serious expression, but even he now looked a little worried, at least, to Stiles. "What?" Stiles asked, not being able to put the pieces together. Lydia rubbed her thumb a little more nervously over his hand before speaking.
"Stiles, summer vacation just started."
Lame name. I know.
Okay. Okay. I like the feel of this. I'm not sure where I'm going but it's going somewhere, no? Tell me what you guys think happened? Should I go on with it? Is it stupid? Any way I should change the characters? Did I write them well?
Oh, and If you'd like, follow me on Tumblr at pleasantlyatomiccolor .tumblr . com
I don't use it too often, but it'd be nice to have fellow fan fic readers/writers on my dash, you know?
Whelp, that's all for now. For those of you who read Chaser or Dream High 3: House of Cards, I SWEAR I WILL UPDATE. I'M JUST FEELIN' TEEN WOLFIE TODAY.
Hope to see you next update! Thanks for reading! :D *bows*
Peace and Mist,
Rlb190