Stiles almost expected her to be gone. He debated all night whether to go downstairs and fix things. Anxiety filled him as he went downstairs in the morning. He forgot that he threw out his alarm clock for Malia's benefit so he accidentally overslept.

But there she was. Sitting on a stool, reading what looked like a magazine. She appeared to be eating some Fruit Loops as she read. "Good morning," she said, not turning around.

"Uh, good morning."

"I could hear your heartbeat from all the way down here. Amazing, huh?" She swiveled around to face Stiles. "I'm reading a magazine called Seventeen. I'm almost seventeen. Wait." She placed her magazine on the counter. "Am I seventeen yet?" Stiles didn't know if she was asking him or herself, but he answered anyway.

"You're seventeen, yes."

"Are you?" she asked curiously.

"Yes."

"Oh, you should read this too then. But I'm not finished with it yet."

"Take your time," he chuckled. He made his way over to the pantry to make himself a bowl of cereal. He started to pour fruit loops for himself, only to find dusty sugar left. Maybe he'd go to the grocery store later. It'd be a good teaching opportunity sometime. "Malia, how many bowls have you had?"

"Probably four or five. My stomach kinda hurts, but it's SO good. Anyway, this magazine is like really interesting. It has all these quizzes to tell me what kind of person I am. Apparently I'm a nurturing romantic who is not willing to change for a guy. And I need to have more girl friends."

"Those kind of magazines are really just for fun. They don't really tell you a lot about yourself." Malia's mouth twisted in disappointment. She thought she'd found an easy solution to her problem. Seeing her hurt look, Stiles added, "They're still fun."

"Do you want to take one?" Stiles nodded. "This one's called 'Are you attracted to bad boys?' she said excitedly. Stiles smirked but decided to play along. "Question one..."

Malia vaguely remembered going to the grocery store with her mother when she was younger. It was difficult to remember anything from those days. She could barely recall what her mother and sister looked like, much less the things they used to do as a family.

Regardless she was amazed when she walked in. Malia and Stiles pushed the cart down the aisles together, picking up everything their hearts -and stomachs- desired. First on the list was Fruit Loops, of course. They ended up putting two in the cart – one box for Malia and one for Stiles.

At first Malia was overzealous and tried to throw everything she could into the cart. In the wild, she lived from meal to meal; here she could buy as much as she wanted and eat as much as she wanted.

Stiles explained to her that she couldn't just buy had to plan what you were going to eat so the food wouldn't be spoiled or stale by the time you wanted to eat it. Malia still convinced him to buy five boxes of macaroni and cheese. He had a hard time saying no to the girl.

That's what he liked about Malia. Something as mundane as going to the store was an adventure to her. She wanted to go up and down every aisle to see what was what. She ran with the cart when she saw something she wanted. They even took turns pushing each other in the cart.

"I will never get tired of coming here." She beamed at him. He smiled. This girl. This girl is amazing, he thought. "I think I'm going to add it to the list I'm making."

"The list?" he prompted. She nodded excitedly, pulling the list from her sweatpants' pocket and handing it to him. He read over it quickly, holding his smile when he saw his name on the 'like' side. "My name's actually only spelled with one 'L'."

"Oh." She paused, squinting at the paper. "I think I like it better with two 'L's'."

Malia was laying in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She was listening to Stiles' heartbeat from upstairs, trying to find sleep. She didn't know how long she had been sitting there. Too long, she thought.

Stiles' heartbeat started to thump louder, harder. Malia got up and decided to walk upstairs, against her instinct. She could hear his breathing now, broken and raspy like he couldn't get a good breath. Malia didn't know what this meant, but it scared her. "Stiles?" she called as she twisted the door knob.

He did not answer her. She walked in to see Stiles tossing and turning in his bed. He smelled like fear and sweat; it reminded her of Echo House. Her instincts told her to run, but she fought the urge. She slowly knelt down next to the bed. "Stiles?" she said again louder this time placing her hand on his arm. He was tense; his fist was clenching the sheets. She shook him hard; sweat beaded on his forehead.

He started to kick his legs and cry out. "Stiles!" she screamed this time, shaking him. There was no waking him. She dug her claws into his arm. His eyes popped open. He sat up, breathing heavily. "I'm sorry, I had to. You weren't waking up. Are you okay?" she asked.

He didn't answer her at first. He looked around to get his bearings. This was his room. His house. His body.

I am Stiles, he tried to convince himself.

He did not feel the blood trickling down his arm. Malia was talking, but he didn't he hear her. He felt like he was underwater, being weighed down. Images of the people he had killed ran through his mind. All of the innocent people at the hospital... Allison...

Malia didn't know what to do. So she went with her instincts. She climbed on him, straddling him once again, but this time she had a very different purpose. With her weight on his thighs, he couldn't thrash his legs around. She cupped his face in both of her hands. He continued to hyperventilate, his eyes darting around the room, looking at everything but Malia. "Stiles, you have to calm down." Stiles whimpered, but looked at her nonetheless. "Focus. Focus on my heartbeat."

She guided his hand to her chest and held it there. Her heartbeat was fast but steady. "This is real," she assured him. "I'm real."

He stared at her hands over his. "You have ten fingers," he said in between breaths.

"Yes, I do," she answered. She didn't know why that mattered, but she was relieved that he was talking.

They sat there for what what felt to Malia like hours, but she would do anything for him. One by one, his muscles relaxed.

"Thanks," he whispered after awhile.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Stiles shook his head no. "Do you?"

"No." She rolled off of him and onto the other side of the bed. She cuddled up next to him, her head resting next to his back and her arm hugging his chest. He held her hand tightly, even after he thought she'd fallen asleep. He stared at the wall, unable to sleep again.

After awhile, she squeezed his hand. She mumbled, "Don't be afraid of falling asleep. I'm here and I will protect you," and kissed his shoulder.