Stiles's POV
He was running
Running from something
Something bad
Chest burning with every rasping breath Stiles skidded on the uneven forest ground, his bare feet earning fresh scrapes from the sharp rocks and small branches that littered the earth as he sprinted faster. The sweat-slicked skin along his arms and the back of his neck prickled with a warning, the small hairs on the surface standing up straight as goosebumps spread across his flesh.
He needed to find somewhere to hide
Somewhere safe
Taking another blind turn in the pitch black of the woods, Stiles held back the urge to scream in frustration as nothing but more trees and mist spread out endlessly in front of him with no sign of salvation.
Flinching Stiles looked around frantically as the sound of something fast and heavy crashing its way through the foliage towards him reached his ears, branching snapping and bushes rustling angrily. His eyes squinted against the oppressive darkness, desperately searching for a miracle, searching for somewhere to hide.
THERE!
Heart thumping madly, Stiles dived for the hollow he spotted in the trunk of one of the many towering trees, forcibly squashing his long limbs and bony joints inside the painfully tight space. Back pressed against the rough bark with his eyes glued to the opening, the terrified teen tucked his knees close to his chest, trying desperately to make himself as small as possible. Body shuddering with fear, Stiles attempted to focus more on his surroundings and less on the sound of blood rushing in his ears, straining to pick up any noises that might indicate his pursuer had caught up to him.
There was nothing but silence.
A minute passed, then two, and then three, until finally after ten minutes Stiles considered the possibility that he had successfully hidden from the threat.
He was wrong.
A vice like grip encircled his ankle and pulled, attempting to drag his body forward as he screamed and twisted against the strong grasp. Kicking out viciously with his other foot, nails scrambling against the damp and rotting wood Stiles desperately tried to prevent the monster from pulling him completely out of his hiding spot.
It didn't work.
Foot connecting with thin air and nails slipping uselessly on the bark Stiles yelled louder and threw his head back caught up in the midst of his frantic struggle, the back of his skull slamming against the bark and causing a sickening throb of pain to bloom. Disorientated from the pain and the high pitched ringing in his ears Stiles fell limp against the grip as it finally managed to yank him out into the open. Eyes squeezed shut Stiles sobbed pathetically as the creature grabbed his arms, pinning them to his sides and wrapping him in a crushing grip. Warm and foul smelling breath huffing against the shell of his ear as its mouth opened.
"STIL-E-S!"
"STIL-LES!
"STILES! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!"
Eyes snapping open Stiles gasped, bile rising in his throat as the room spun around him causing his stomach to churn dangerously. Hitting the person holding him frantically with his palms Stiles managed to wiggle enough room to pull himself free before darting for the bathroom. Falling harshly to his knees he reached the toilet just in time for the contents of his stomach to spill out dramatically as he retched uncontrollably.
The familiar feeling of a warm hand rubbing itself back and forth across his shaking shoulders gave little comfort as the muscles in his abdomen clenched and unclenched spasmodically. Fresh sweat coating his forehead as he groaned pathetically in pain, his stomach now empty but still rolling like a sea in a storm.
"Jesus Stiles…"
Pressing the heated skin of his forehead against the cool rim of the toilet bowl, Stiles weakly mumbled to hovering and anxious figure of his dad behind him. "M, fine dad".
"The fuck you are!" his dad snapped back angrily causing Stiles to wince at the loud volume, a throbbing pain radiating from somewhere on the back of his head. Hands reached out and Stiles swatted at them petulantly "nuu dnt tush".
"Stiles you have a concussion, your head is bleeding and you need to go to the hospital now" his dad tried to explain to him calmly as Stiles whined low in his throat and hugged the toilet tighter in protest "noo, m' mad atch yu". Surprisingly his dad let out a laugh at his stubborn statement before hoisting him up by his armpits and leading him stumbling, almost drunkenly, out of the room "well kid, you can still be mad at me at the hospital".
-time skip-
"You should have seen me about these scratches Stiles"
Shrugging Stiles averted his eyes away from the warm concerned gaze of Melissa as she gently finished wrapping his arm in a fresh bandage. The wounds had reopened again sometime during his nightmare/sleepwalking episode and Melissa was not impressed that Stiles hadn't sought out medical assistance in the first place.
"I didn't think they were that big of a deal" he muttered quietly in defense, earning himself a raised brow and an unimpressed scowl from the nurse.
"Well you thought wrong"
Tucking his now dressed arm to his chest Stiles bit his tongue to stop himself from snapping that he had dealt with worse. He doubted very much that Ms. McCall would appreciate his anger when she was only trying to help. But it was hard these days, not to feel jaded or frustrated at everyone who acted like they cared about him, or at least everyone who wasn't Nick.
Nick was genuine. Nick didn't leave him to suffer alone for a full month after possibly one of the most traumatizing experiences of his life, Nick didn't ignore his existence and then acknowledge him when it pleased him, no, Nick truly cared for him and Stiles could feel it, in his heart.
Licking his lips nervously Stiles sighed as he eyed the clock on the wall, regretting the fact that he was too concussed earlier to convince his dad from dragging him here. He hated hospitals. Too many sour memories of sitting at his own mother's bedside doing his homework whilst she asked him so innocently who he was, and where his parents were, it used to hurt, that she forgot him first. But he understood now, if he had the choice he'd choose to forget too, he always too loud, too fidgety, never paid enough attention either.
A hyperactive little bastard who ruined lives.
He accepted that now.
The door clicked open as his dad entered the small examination room with a weak smile directed towards Stiles and Melissa, his voice soft as he broke the slowly building tension in the room "hey all done now?".
Stiles nodded and slipped off the table as Melissa snapped off her rubber gloves before tossing them in the bin. "He's right as rain, a concussion and a slight cut on the back of his head from the closet but nothing some good bed rest, a bit of Tylenol and lots of fluids won't fix".
Huffing out a breath of relief his dad shoved his hands into his pockets whilst giving Melissa a look of worn gratefulness "thanks Mel". Making his way towards the door Stiles paused as Melissa's small hand gently grabbed his upper arm and squeezed "you did a good job cleaning those scratches on your arm Stiles, but please, for my peace of mind, just come to me in the future". Staring at the tiled floor Stiles nodded in agreement before moving once again for the door, desperate to escape.
Following his dad out into the parking lot, Stiles barely registered the fact that he was still shoeless, his socked feet softly padding across the gravel in a rush to get to the car and to get back home. Spotting his jeep sitting underneath the glow of a street lamp Stiles furrowed his brow and spoke up "you drove Roscoe?". His dad who was only a few steps behind him grunted whilst pulling the keys out of his pocket "cruiser is in the shop, it's why you didn't see it when…" clearing his throat he continued "when Nick dropped you off".
Biting back a snort at the sound of disdain in his dad's voice when speaking Nick's name, Stiles simply nodded and slid into the passenger side of the jeep. Buckling the belt Stiles let his eyes slip closed whilst his dad started the car.
"Stiles….?"
Not bothering to reopen his eyes Stiles sighed at the questioning tone "I'm tired dad, please, just leave it okay".
"Okay son"