Author's Note: Here we'll get a little insight into what Stiles is feeling being human again.
Chapter Two: Mr. Nobody
Song Inspiration: Flaws By Vancouver Sleep Clinic
"Stiles" She breathes out, his name already lost in the wind that now brushes his face.
As soon as she says it, he begins to transform right before her eyes.
"You." He murmurs softly. His voice is scratchy and carries a timber that is low and gruff from going so long without having to speak. "You brought me back."
Stiles POV: It's in that moment that my whole world shifts into color like flipping on a light switch: radiant, blazing, iridescent color stitches together in the form of the sun beginning to set and trees that stretch on for miles. It's as if I've been catapulted into the Twilight Zone and stumbled into a cosmic horror of the unknown. The new smells filling my nose are overwhelming: mint leaves, pine trees, morning dew, and wildflowers. My head begins to spin. The colors are frightening and blinding and every little sliver of light hurts my eyes. I stare numbly at the spots on my dirty hands, inspecting the moles and veins and flesh that I haven't seen in so long and thought that I'd never see again. In the place of claws and fur are long, pale fingers that are now clenched in a fist, so much so that my nails bite into my skin and draw blood. It feels so strange touching things. It's as if feeling something for too long will somehow make this all seem real, but I don't think anything will ever feel real again. I know that it's cold and I'm aware of myself shaking but I can't even focus on that when every sensation in my body is telling me to run and hide.
But her, who is she?
The first thing I notice before my eyes take in her silhouette is the distinct smell of sage, vanilla, and a hint of freesia. But then I see her like a supernova going off in my brain and all there is are stars dancing around my head like a halo that only I can see.
Her eyes hit me like a dream that's long since been forgotten and now I'm lost in a memory.I'm taken back in time to a nine year old version of me sitting around the campfire with my mom and dad.
Sparks flicker off the flames that envelope the fire wood and the air smells of burnt marsh mellows, melted chocolate, and roasted graham crackers. I'm tucked into my mom's side and she radiates warmth. Her eyes sparkle with mischief right before she sneaks me an extra s'more and winks. Dad is sipping on his hot chocolate and his hands are covered in fluffy, white gloves. He looks upon the two of us and smiles as if he's never felt so much happiness in his life. He gets up from his spot on the log and walks over to mom and I, putting his sheriff's jacket around my shoulders with a look of pride. Dad always told me that I would do great things one day and save lives just like my old man. He said that it would all mean something and it was up to me to figure out what that meaning was.
If only dad knew that I would turn out to be just like the monsters from the stories he would tell me before bed. Suddenly, a voice cuts through the quiet.
"Stiles, can you hear me?" Sheasks, but it rings through my ears like an echo. Her voice is gentle and calming to a point where I'm wondering if I'm still dreaming. But looking at her now, there's no way my mind could ever paint an image of those dark, romantic eyes and soft, olive skin with fog surrounding her feet. Only Heaven knows the secret of timeless allure and heart beats.
"Why did you change me back?" I croak, still getting used to forming words into sentences.
"We're here to help you. Your dad has been looking for you for a while now. We can take you to him. It's okay now, you're safe." She explains.
I chuckle bitterly. "Safe?" I can feel my eyes darken as I roll the word around on my tongue in disgust. "You think that putting a blanket over my shoulders and 'reclaiming my humanity' makes me any less of an animal? The world isn't that black and white, sweetheart. This town will never be safe with me here. You should have left well enough alone."
"What the hell is that suppose to mean?" Her words burst out of her mouth like mini darts aiming for a target. That target being me.
Tilting my head in admiration, I can't help the dark smirk that tickles my lips. Her eyes seem to light up brighter in anger when she sees it and her scowl somehow manages to burn away any retort I may have had on the tip of my tongue. For a human, she definitely is not the submissive type. And why do I like that? Inexcusably gorgeous and a quick temper. Glorious.
The russet skinned male from before who reeks of authority shuffles towards my mystery girl and places his hand on her forearm, pulling her away from the scene.
"Malia, let me handle this. I can't have you setting him off and getting hurt. You're too much of a smartass for your own good." He whispers in hushed tones with his eyes still on me as he shuffles her towards a group of teenagers standing off near the treeline.
I automatically don't like the way his hand lays possessively around her, as if she needs protecting from me. I glower in his direction and keep my eyes on his hands around her arm until he lets go. When he finally does, I breath a sigh of relief. What's that about?
I decide to antagonize her a little further just to get a rise out of her. I shout across the field, "So your name is Malia? I like it, it suits you. You know, in Hebrew it means "bitter sea." Saying her name for the first time, I realize that I like the way her name rolls off my lips.
Speaking of which, I'm not really surprised by the way the origin of her name fits her perfectly. I've known Malia for all of five minutes and I can already tell that a girl like her is capable of drowning oceans. Free-spirits like that simply cannot be contained, they refuse to be ignored.
She rolls her eyes and continues walking in the direction of her friends.
"I hope you let us help you. Scott is a great leader and maybe if you tried to connect with us you'd understand that we aren't doing this to feel good about ourselves. We just want you to know that you aren't hopeless or a lost cause. We want you with us as you are and we aren't trying to change you, even if you are kind of a jack ass." She chuckles and spares him a small smile. "And if not for yourself, do it for your dad. He misses you."
I really would love to see my dad again.
She gives me one last heated gaze with those piercing brown eyes of hers before disappearing into the night with the others.
"Is she always like that?" I speak to no one in particular.
"What do you mean?" The guy who I presume is Scott answers back.
"Like she isn't just one thing. She's so much... Larger than that?" I ponder, still somewhat confused on where I'm going with that thought.
"I'm not sure I'm following what you're saying..." Scott says with a quirk of his brow.
"Malia- she's just- something about her mere presence just demands attention. But it's not obnoxious, it's like a warmth, I guess. She reminds me of someone I lost a long time ago."
Before I realize what I'm saying I stop talking all together. Why did I start opening up to this complete stranger like he gives a shit about me or my problems? These people think they want to help me, but I'll disappoint them. I'll disappoint her. And for some reason I don't want that.
Before I even give myself a chance to mull over what that could mean, I reluctantly follow Scott back to his car.
Author's Note: What are you guys thinking of Stiles so far? He's a little cynical, isn't he? I always appreciate your reviews so let me know how you're feeling about the story so far.