Hey, everyone! This story was brought to you by the following items:
Ministry of Magic:
Pick a Character: (pairing) Stiles/Melissa
Love Languages: Quality Time (emotion) jealousy
Blast From the Past: Raw is War: (trope) saving the day
Build a House: Garage (trope) Hannahaki Disease
My Favorite Things: (genre) hurt/comfort
Stand Back, We're Going to Try Science: TC (prompt) Write about someone running out of time.
Word Count: 2,449
Additional Information: Adult!Stiles!AU Warning for mentions of blood due to the use of Hannahaki Disease.
I hope you all enjoy A Cure for Lovesickness.
Love is a tricky thing when you're young. A fact that Stiles knew all too well. But when you add a supernatural disease to the mix it becomes even more so. The disease started out small affecting his friends. His supernatural friends that is.
"We don't know how it spreads," he said, watching Scott's blood-red face. "Or why it targets the people it does."
"Then how are we supposed to come up with a cure for this?" asked the soft voice by his side.
He knew that she didn't leave Scott's bedside much. Aside from the hours she had to work that was. But he hadn't expected his first true love in his young life, Melissa McCall, to be awake. He watched as she ran a hand through her hair and leveled a steady gaze on him. How many times when he was younger did he wish she'd turn such a gaze on him? He just hadn't expected that it would happen at his best friend's, her son's, bedside as he lay dying of a disease that was as much a mystery to Stiles as women were.
"I don't know," he said, trying to give her a reassuring smile but failing miserably.
Lydia had been the first of their group to get the mysterious disease. It had started small. A small tickle at the back of the throat. A tiny blotch of pinkish rash coloring the skin. But as time went by and the doctors couldn't figure it out things got worse.
The tickle had become a hacking cough followed by the scent of blood and roses. The pinkish color had deepened to a red one. A red that was much the same as the color of blood. The last any of the friends had seen of her she was being put into a medically induced coma and having a respirator put in to breathe for her.
It affected the werewolves and his ex-girlfriend the werecoyete Malia Tate differently. Anyone with weregenes he supposed. The healing factor in their genes only meant that they wouldn't have to go on a respirator as Lydia did. They'd heal as soon as the hacking fit had stopped.
A fevered rasp of hacking came from the bed. He looked down to see that Scott was tossing and turning. His skin going as red as his werewolf eyes.
Stiles cleared his throat feeling the tickle begin at the back of his throat. He chalked it up to allergies. He was sure it was that. Because this was a supernatural disease. He didn't know of any humans who had gotten it.
Scott groaned out a hacking wheezing cough. Blood coloring his lips a deep red that almost made them disappear mixing in with the color of his skin.
"Scott!" Melissa cried out. Stiles watched as she wiped the blood from her son's mouth. She shouldn't have to be doing this. No one should have to be doing this.
"Don't worry, buddy," he said, placing a hand upon the far too hot skin of his friend's hand. "We're going to figure out what's going on here. Then we're going to work on a cure for you and the rest of the group, alright?"
He cleared his throat feeling the small tickle at the back of his throat that should have warned him that he was the first human victim of the disease. But he only chalked it up to allergies. There must be a whole bunch of dust in here. He began to pace back and forth thinking as he did so.
"We don't know how this thing is spread from person to person," he said, reasoning out what he already knew. "We also don't know how it chooses what people to go after." He caught the concerned look on Melissa's face out of the corner of his eye as a few more coughs escaped his mouth.
"Stiles, you don't look so good," Melissa stated, walking over to him. She pressed her lips against his forehead. A thing he'd watched her do to Scott on serval occasions during their childhood together. He'd always been jealous when she'd done this but wouldn't admit it was because of the crush he'd formed on his best friend's mom from the minute he'd met the woman. "You've got a fever."
"Probably coming down with a cold," he said, waving it off like it was nothing. "I've got to figure out what this is and how we can help Scott and the—"
"You haven't slept since this whole thing started," she pointed out. "Maybe you should lay down on the couch and catch a little bit of sleep and come back to the problem with a fresh perspective."
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He could feel sweat drench his palm and wonder when it was that he'd begun sweating. It must have been some time ago. He felt her hands gently taking his arm and leading him over to the couch that was in every hospital for the family members who decided to stay overnight with their loved ones. Her touch was light and he could help but feel that this was the bright part of a very long stretch of darkness.
It was then that he noticed the pinkish tinge to his pinky finger on his left hand. It was barely noticeable but it was there. Like a blaring middle finger straight from God or whoever controlled the universe. He tried to cover his alarm but knew that he failed miserably when she followed his gaze with her eyes.
"Stiles," she whispered, giving him a pitying look.
The number of times he'd dreamed of his best friend's mother whispering his name, it had never been in this context. The context of his possible death.
"That just means that I have to work faster and can't afford to lay down," Stiles said, imagining himself put into a coma the same Lydia had been.
"I'll help you," she said, nodding towards the pile of books that Stiles had taken from any available source he could. "Where do we start?"
"I've looked up the symptoms," he told her. "But that only me to a brick wall and more questions than answers."
"What exactly did you find so far?" she asked, looking at him urgently.
"Only some story about a young witch who had her heart broken by the man she loved," he said a cough punctuating the last few words. "The story says that he chose another over her and in her rage, she planned revenge upon the two."
"Revenge?"
He nodded as the hacking fit took over him. He wasn't sure why the disease was affecting him faster than it had his friends. Perhaps because he was a normal everyday human and they were supernatural. But he could say that with surety. In fact, he was barely capable of saying anything at this point.
"Which book?" the dark-haired woman of his dreams asked,
He walked over to the pile of books and held the exact one up. He then flipped to the pages in question and held it out to her. Noticing with a slight fear that he was turning the blood-red color that was known to happen before—He stopped the thought before it could continue. He could think like that now. He had to find a way to save himself and his friends.
Melissa led Stiles back over to the sofa and told him to lie down once more. She had seen how the disease had progressed with the rest of the group. But the quickness with how it had taken hold of Stiles was horrifying. Placing a blanket around the shuddering bo—no he wasn't a boy anymore. Was he? Placing a blanket around the shuddering man on the sofa she walked back to her seat by Scott's bedside.
She had grown fond of Stiles over the years. He had always looked at her like she was the only woman he had eyes for. The sort of look that she'd noticed her son giving Malia recently and Malia unknowingly returning the look with one of her own.
What had Stiles been saying before he was overcome by the disease? He had been telling her the story of some witch that had had her heart broken. He had handed her the book it was in. The very book in her hand. Taking a deep breath she read over the story that Stiles couldn't continue telling.
The witch's form of revenge was pretty petty in her mind. The woman cursed everyone in the town with a disease. The name wasn't known. But the symptoms were very familiar. The coughing, the color change. It was all there in black and white print. The witch cursed the town's people who were afraid to admit their love for the people in their lives. Not familial love. No one was ashamed of that. But romantic love.
"Lovesickness?" she asked, looking towards the sofa and then back to her son in his hospital bed.
She stopped the laugh before it could escape her mouth. If you'd have told her before all of this that werewolves existed she'd have told you you were crazy. But she knew better now. So, why couldn't this be true too?
"Does it state a cure for this thing?" she asked no one in particular, seeing as both Stiles and Scott were out like lights.
She read on in hopes of finding a cure for them. For all of them. She read of the search for the cure because the bride of the man who brought the curse upon the village had been one of its first victims. With him following shortly after.
The story continued that the man had searched out the witch. He figured if he showed her how much her curse had taken from him she would grant him forgiveness. After all, there had been love there once upon a time.
"He found her," she whispered the line she had just read.
The barely conscious man in the story had indeed found the witch. She was in the home that would have been theirs if he hadn't turned his back on her. The home that they'd planned to settle down in.
Melissa looked from Stiles to Scott then back to the book. She knew that Scott was in love with Malia from the way he looked at her. Even Malia's father knew Scott was in love with her. But who was Stiles hiding his feelings from?
"Melissa," Stiles's voice rasped followed quickly by a bout of hacking and the splattering sound of blood hitting the floor.
She turned to find him sitting up on the sofa and looking at her. His mouth was as red as the floor was. The sticky pink and red buds of roses mingled with the gore at his feet. He tried to get to his feet but faltered almost falling flat on his face.
She quickly ran over to him. Helping him back to his seat. "Did you read the whole story?" she asked, indicating the book he'd given her.
He nodded.
"Did you read the whole story?" Melissa asked, looking at him with concern plastered upon her face.
He nodded wanting to put her mind at ease. But he had to admit he was still pretty much afraid to admit his true feelings to the woman. She was Scott's mom. His best friend's mother. How would his confession affect his friendship with Scott? Would Scott be able to forgive him for feeling the way that he did? Would any of them be able to forgive him? In his mind's eye, this was all his fault. He had brought the curse down upon them.
"Then you know what you have to do in order to fix things?" she asked, leveling a stare at him that made his heart flip in his chest.
He nodded. Covering his mouth in time stop the torrent of blood that was about to be hacked up. The last thing he needed was for Melissa to get sick with this thing too. Then no one would be able to fix this.
He opened his mouth only to cover it ahead of another hacking fit. He groaned and tried again. Fighting back the coughs that threatened to rack his body and send more roses and blood onto the hospital flood. It was now or never. Because if he didn't do this he was pretty sure that he was a goner.
"I—" Another hacking cough erupted from him but he knew he had to get this out. He knew he needed to say what he felt. Before time ran out. "I love you," he said, looking into her eyes. "I've loved you since the first time I saw you. When Scott and I were kindergarten together."
Melissa looked startled and Stiles could feel the blush color his cheeks making them a dark red. If that was even possible.
The moment the words were out of his mouth it was like a switch had been flipped. The coughs that had once been wracking his body stopped. The taste of blood and rose petals was still present in his mouth but didn't feel like he was going to hack up a blood coat rose bush anymore.
Looking at Melissa once more he could see her processing what he had just said to her. She more than likely didn't feel the same way. She was his best friend's mother and had known him since he was a child. She also had a relationship with Scott's ex-girlfriend Allison's dad. Women didn't go for the younger men after all. And that was exactly what he was. The younger man. He could accept that.
"Stiles, I don't know what to say," she said, looking over at Scott in case he'd heard the confession which Stiles thought wasn't possible.
"You don't have to say anything," he told her. "Just wanted you to know that."
Now that he knew how to put this disease to rest, he had work to do. He had to get his friends back after all.
"We've got to get Scott to Malia's room," he told Melissa who was still processing what he had said to her by the look on her face. He raced from the room to get a wheelchair for his friend.
"I love you too," he heard the faint whisper that follow him out of the room.
"How am I going to explain this to Scott?" he asked himself as a smile stretched across his face. He would figure that part out later. He had a job to do now.
I hope you all enjoyed A Cure for Lovesickness as much as I enjoyed writing it.