See Chapter 1 for warnings
Stiles Stella Stilinski (Or Finding Out Who You Really Are)
36
"Breathe," Peter keeps saying, but I can't force the air in, or out. My heart is all over the place. My other muscles are cramping up and protesting their overuse. I'm cold so very cold. And I'm going to die. "You're not going to die Stiles Stella." He sounds so certain.
"Stiles isn't calming down," Derek is also here, he's kneeling next to me. And then he sort of pulls me into his lap and wraps himself around me. "We're here Stiles, we're here. You're not alone. Pack is never alone."
He's only a hallucination, he's not real, not here, I'm all alone and I've ruined everything. I've lost everything. I've lost my dad. I've lost Peter. I've lost everyone.
"Well that isn't good, Stiles just got worse," Peter says and then he wraps himself around my front. "Stiles Stella, hold on, hold on. Panic attacks only last on average ten to twenty minutes, so you hold on and ride it out. Or better yet, hang onto us, and let us help you break out of it."
Clinging to them I do hold on, he's right, it will pass, or I'll die. I'm fine with either option, though death would be easier. The attack builds and builds until I know I'm not going to come down again. The pain grows faster than the attack, and then suddenly the pain drains away, it leaves me struggling under the weight of the attack. An attack that follows the same path as the pain and ebbs away leaving me drained and exhausted.
I'm normally cold after an attack but I'm really warm right now, like I'm surrounded by a heater that's kicking out enough warmth to melt all the ice left on the ice caps. One part of the heater moves and something wet touches my lips, I try to gulp the water down but someone urges me to drink slower, since they're not giving me the water otherwise Il do as I'm told.
"There, you drank the whole bottle, that's good Stiles Stella," it sounds like Peter, "Sleep, you must be exhausted, I'll carry you."
"I'll carry Stiles Stella," Derek's voice says, "You're bleeding again, you pulled the wounds open while you were running."
"Well it's not my fault I got shot several times. Stiles Stella's dad is a surprisingly good shot, nice to know my tax dollars are being well spent. If I actually paid any taxes," Is the snarky response. "If you drop Stiles Stella," that is a bit threatening.
"I won't drop Stiles Stella, let's get moving, we have a way to go," And then my cushion is moving and I whine as I slide a bit, only to be caught in strong arms as the world shifts around me. The motion of the world probably means I'm being carried, the hard muscly shoulder under my cheek lets me know its Derek.
Rocked gently I doze off and decide to rest while I can. Time enough to face reality later. For now I can pretend I'm with Pack.
A/N: Sorry for any and all mistakes, I've tried to catch those I could, but I'm only human.
See told you it was a mini one… sorry next update is the regular Sunday one.