Chapter Six
After two hours of hanging out and a pizza later, everyone decided that they were all ready to crash but that meant figuring out the right way to restrain Ethan.
"You know, with all of my sleeping issues this isn't going to help at all. Who in their right mind can sleep like this?" Ethan asks, staring up at all of us. Derek and Stiles had put the leather cuffs on his wrists and then we all pulled the bed away from the wall so that the chains can be clipped to both sides of the metal bed frame, forcing Ethan's arms to be sprawled out.
"Yeah but at least you'll be alive." Derek says with a slight growl. I thought he was breaking out of this permanent bad mood thing.
"I'm taking the couch." Stiles announces.
"Okay I have to run an errand right now anyway." Derek says, adjusting his jacket.
"Can you give me a ride to Scott's house? I need to check on him before I go to sleep." Stiles asks and Derek nods his head.
"Okay, cool, we'll be back later then. Danny I'll bring you an extra toothbrush from Scott's house, they have so many of those over there. Do you guys need anything else?" Stiles asks, turning to us and doing a weird jerky movement with his head. He can't sit still.
"All good here, thank you though." I say.
"No thanks, dude." Ethan says lowly.
"Alright see you later!" Stiles yells, almost falling over as he runs to catch up to Derek who walked away a long time ago.
"Can you just lay down so I can try and forget about these stupid things before I freak out? God I hate this, it brings up too many memories." Ethan says as soon as the door is shut and we're alone.
"So now you need me?" I say, raising my eyebrow and giving him a grin.
"Shut up, please?" He asks, his expression remaining serious if not a little panicked.
"Yeah! I was kidding." I say, the smile dropping from my face. I sit down on the bed next to him and squirm under the covers which includes a blanket that I found in the huge and what I had always thought was a decorative chest until today. Although I probably wouldn't need it because Ethan actually radiates heat.
"You're happy about your blanket, aren't you?" He says, rolling his eyes.
"Shut up." I say, laughing before I very hesitantly put my head on his shoulder. This did not feel like a friends-only sleeping arrangement at all but I really didn't care right now. Ethan does seriously hate being trapped. "Only for a few minutes." I murmur before closing my eyes, telling myself that I would get up and move to the floor when he falls asleep.
"Okay, goodnight." Ethan says softly and it isn't long before the slow rise and fall of his chest puts me to sleep.
…
I wake up to a squeezing pain in my thigh so bad that it is like the worst Charlie horse you can imagine but times a thousand. I gasp, immediately beginning to sweat. I can't help but thrash around as I try and free my leg from whatever is constricting it. I try and sit up but Ethan's arm somehow ended up across my chest so it's like I'm strapped in too. I can feel the muscles in my thigh being crushed against my bone and it won't be long until that gives away too. I struggle upwards as much as possible and look down to see that Ethan had slid his hand down the rail enough and that he was actually the one crushing my leg. His hand wrapped almost all the way around the top and the sides and he was grabbing on so tight that his knuckles were white. I bite my lip to keep from crying out and try and slide under Ethan's arm as much as possible so I can wiggle off the bed.
If I wake him up there's a very high chance he could react badly like he did yesterday morning, especially if he's having a nightmare. I managed to wiggle my torso all the way down to my hips off the bed and I flip over, trying to drag myself away from him but I can't get a good grip on the floor and the rough surface tears into my palms. Tears prick my eyes but I see Stiles' foot peeking out over the arm of the couch and I grab the water bottle I put on the floor before I went to sleep because Derek has no nightstand and I throw it at Stilinki's leg as hard as I can. His leg falls off the couch and he wakes up with a start.
"What the hell, what's going on?" He asks, rubbing his eyes as he shoots upwards and looks around.
"Stiles!" I whisper yell. Stiles looks over and sees me, "Holy shit!" He yells, running over.
"Don't wake him up, don't wake him up." I say frantically. Stiles takes one look at the situation and grabs me by the wrist, essentially making me the rope in a human tug of war. Each jerking movement sends searing pain through me and a couple tears run down my face unintentionally. Stiles is wearing socks and slips a little on the concrete floor.