Stiles suddenly felt as if he was going to hurl again. His ears were ringing. Summer vacation, summer vacation…

Stiles, summer vacation just started.

Stiles felt another wave of nausea hit him. Deaton, picking up on it, gave Stiles the bucket, to which he leaned over off the edge of the table and puked in a bit more, although this time the following coughing fit was merely a few seconds rather than twenty.
Lydia offered Stiles more water, which he accepted gratefully. "I'm okay."

I'm okay… what strange words. What constituted okay? Was he really okay? Well, he was alive. That's more then what he could ask for at the moment, right?

Lydia tapped her perfectly painted nails on the metal table. "You have no idea of what happened? At all?" Stiles shook his head. Honestly, the last thing he remembered was leaving his first period. That was it. Next thing he knew, he woke up feeling like he'd been asleep for a thousands of years. Lydia looked nervous. He didn't like that look on her

"One question…" he croaked out, his voice sounding more ragged than before.

Lydia nodded.

"Did Leonardo DiCaprio win an Oscar?"

Lydia laughed a light, airy laugh. "No." Stiles gave a smile and shrugged (to the best of his ability) "Then all is right in the world."

Before Lydia could reply, the door opened, sending in a whoosh of air. Though Stiles couldn't see, he could almost feel who it was. The person stopped, staring at Stiles like he had seen a ghost. They stopped hesitantly before moving in.

"Dad." It came out barely as a whisper. He looked exhausted, relieved, and angry; almost everything Stiles had expected him to be. He looked older now, too, like he had spent nights up with no sleep, staring at a computer screen.

"Stiles." His father made a move towards him. Stiles tried to sit up, but he couldn't, at least not without his Dad's help. Within a second, his Dad embraced in. Stiles put his head on his Dad's shoulder, hugging him. His Dad smelled like…well… he couldn't quite say what. He was just… everything about him screamed 'dad'.

"Hey, Dad." Stiles choked out, his throat raw with emotion.

"I thought I lost you." His dad hugged him tighter, closer to him, before pulling himself back and inspecting Stiles, his hands still on Stiles' shoulders. Stiles shrugged. "Sorry I guess."

"Idiot!" Stiles' dad hugged him again. Stiles suddenly felt another wave coming up.

"Hold on." Stiles muttered, reluctantly letting go of his father and leaning over that stupid bucket and throwing up again. Stiles felt his Dad's eyes on him as he emptied his stomach contents into the bucket and to his dismay made a face. Even as the sheriff, this kind of stuff made him cringe. Once when Stiles was in middle school he got the stomach flu, and his Dad kind of handed him a blanket, a pillow, and some Tylenol and left Stiles to the toilet for a few days.

Stiles felt sick again, but there was nothing left in his stomach to throw up. He settled on making gagging noises to try to make himself feel a bit better… God, why was he so sick? He put the bucket down on the floor next to the metal table and rubbed his eyes helplessly, feeling the stares of Lydia and his father on his back.

The doors suddenly opened again, and in entered Scott McCall. His best friend, his mejor amigo, the Batman to his Robin (though Stiles hated to admit it; yes, he was the Robin in their relationship). Oh, and Kira.

Mustn't forget Kira.

Again. Again?

Kira…Kira…Kira… what was so important about Kira? Kira…?

Kira!

Kira was walking in hesitantly behind Scott, as if afraid to enter before him, or maybe just shy. She looked about the same as ever, her geeky-yet charming passive goth/punk clothes and her sword strapped onto her back, a gift from her mother. Or was it? Stiles couldn't remember. In any case, seeing Kira triggered something in him.

As if struck by lightning, he shot up. It didn't matter how weak or nauseated he was, hell, he could have been dying, bleeding out on the floor, but he needed to reach Kira. It felt like something unholy possessed him to get up at get to her.

It tore through him like a wave of fire through his veins. It was… almost unreal, as if he had to reach Kira before anything, he would put her, that thing, before anything.

Stiles was honestly terrified that he was going to hurt her, as was everyone else, he sensed. But at the same time, Stiles had moved so inhumanly fast, that not even the Alpha, Scott, could stop him before his hands latched onto Kira's shoulders like clamps. He felt wild, crazed, and desperate.

"Kira! You have to-!"

Oh, no.

That movement he had made him feel even worse than before. His vison was starting to get fuzzy, he felt himself leaning on Kira for support.

No! No!

"Stiles?" Kira asked, her brown eyes widened and terrified, her face a mix of shock and determination.

The others said his name a few times, but it all blurred together. Stiles had to, he had to tell Kira.

"There's this-," Stiles felt his knees buckling. It was now or never.

Say it! Say it! YOU HAVE TO SAY IT! SAY IT BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!

It came out as barely a whisper in Stiles' head, although it sounded very loud to everyone else. One word. One word before he passed out. One word to save her life from that thing.

"Goryō."

Okay. Okay. I'm feeling this. I like smaller chapters that are updated more frequently than long chapters, so I'm just going to do that.

I swear I will update Chaser and Dream High 3: House of Cards. I will. Eventually.

So what do you guys think? Love it? Hate it? Am I writing the characters right? Should I even keep updating this story? Tell me so I can know.

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Thanks for reading, as usual! :D *bows*

Peace and Mist,

Rlb190