"Stiles? Remember when you had that panic attack in the locker room? Do you remember what you said to me after…after I kissed you? You said it was really smart of me. So…that's how I'm going to do it. I'm going to try and be really smart again to get you out of this. I'll stop this from happening. You'll wake up."
The next think I know, I'm grabbing his hand. And he's so warm. I know his eyes are warm behind his lids. He's alive and he'll come out of this. It's my turn to save him.
"I'll figure it out. I'll be like you. You always figure it out."
I would say I could've sworn I felt his hand move, but there was nothing. The only motion I feel is when I entwine our fingers. His knuckles push against mine and the grip is so tight, our blood is pumping together. I can feel his pulse and that is all I have of Stiles right now. He'll find his way back.
"I'll come back." When I stand up, it hurts. It's like a web connected our hands, our bodies. I can feel the microscopic fibers pinching at my fingertips and maybe his as well. "Promise…"
"Why do you think it got this bad? Does Deaton know anything about this?" I sit in Scott's desk chair. He's been around the room 100 times, kicking things over and picking them up.
"No no he doesn't. He said it wasn't supposed to get this bad. Allison and I are fine but for some reason it got worse for Stiles. And for the first time…I'm not sure if it's ever going to get better…"
Two Weeks Earlier
(AN: In the next chapter! It will be longer, I promise!)