Hey all, and thanks for the reviews. (Sidenote: anyone as dissatisfied with Season 5 so far as I currently am?) Anyway. Nothing else to say this AN, so enjoy the chapter.
X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X
The night of the new moon is crisp, clear, and yet again finds Stiles knocking on Scott's door with almost enough force to actually dent the wood. It takes almost a minute for Scott to answer, and in that time Stiles comes up with no fewer than seven horrible scenarios. Five of them he could have prevented himself, and the other two might have been avoided if he had thought to actually tell the pack. But he'd been convinced he could handle this, and, not for the first time, he had been colossally wrong. He just has to hope that this time it's not going to get anyone killed.
"Stiles," Scott says, blinking slowly as if he'd just woken up. "What are you doing here?"
Without waiting for an invitation Stiles steps through the door; he's been in here a thousand times before, and lately all of his visits have seemed to be because of one disaster or another. It's just that this particular disaster is undeniably his fault, and he has no idea how to explain that to Scott.
"What's going on?" Scott asks, with a pointed look at the clock. It's only one am, but it's a school night. Of course it is; nothing disastrous ever happens on the weekend, or during the holidays. It's always on a school night.
Stiles sits down on the edge of Scott's bed, tapping his fingers against his knee in agitation. This isn't the first time he's had to admit to screwing up, but it never gets easier. Even with Scott, who's forgiven him for everything and who would never turn his back on him, it's still hard. Scott sits down beside him, waiting patiently. Stiles takes a deep breath and starts. "Malia came over tonight," he says, ignoring the way that Scott's eyebrows raise suggestively. "It was going well until…"
He trails off, and he knows Scott must hear the way his heart is pounding in his chest. "Until?" the werewolf prompts.
"Until the moon came out from behind the clouds," Stiles says grimly.
Scott's eyes widen, all traces of sleep gone. They'd been through this a hundred times before, back when Scott was first going through the changes, and they had both been incredibly relieved when Scott had finally managed to get in control of it. And that had seemed like the end of it, until Derek went around turning kids into werewolves and then they all had to deal with the fallout – with teaching Erica, Isaac, and Boyd how not to randomly kill people. And now they have Malia, who has the added distinction of having been a coyote for eight years and not being able to understand the way the human world works.
"But it's not a full moon," Scott says. "She shouldn't have changed -"
"She's been having trouble with the transformations anyway," Stiles confined, feeling almost like he's betraying her. She's been working on it, both with Scott and with him, and she has been getting better – but she hasn't been putting her whole heart into it. There's still a part of her, some wild, untamed part that Stiles can't reach, and it means she's always holding back, always on the cusp of running away again.
"And she just changed tonight?" Scott asks.
"I'm sorry, Scotty," Stiles says. He holds up his arm, revealing a long scratch running down it. "I tried to stop her, but…"
"How bad is it?" Scott automatically reaches out and takes some of Stiles' pain, although it seems like the scratch won't cause any lasting damage. "Did she…?"
"Turn into a coyote? Yeah." Stiles rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, realizing just how tired he is. It had been a normal enough night, good even, and he and Malia had been getting along better than they had in a while. Then the conversation had become more serious, and they'd found themselves talking about the killings around town and the fact that Malia still doesn't know whose blood she was covered in. And then the next minute Stiles had been talking to a coyote.
"Do you know which way she went?" Scott asks, already reaching for his jacket.
"I don't know." Stiles gets to his feet with a shrug. "She took off out the window. I lost track of her."
"I can find her," Scott says, with a confidence that Stiles finds slightly surprising. He can remember a time when Scott was hesitant to use any of his werewolf powers, scared he wouldn't be able to control them and would end up hurting someone. But now he makes it seem easy, effortless, like they've always been a part of him. "We should call the others though."
While Scott goes to wake Isaac up, Stiles calls Ethan and Kira. Only the wolves will be helpful in actually tracking Malia down, but knowing Beacon Hills it's always good to have as much firepower as possible. Scott returns with Isaac and the three of them go out to the car.
They divide up the town, sending Ethan and Isaac one way while Scott, Stiles, and Kira go the other way. It takes a while to catch Malia's scent, and even then it's hard to track because it zigzags all over the place. Eventually they abandon the car altogether and start walking, Scott leading the way. Kira and Stiles walk side by side, and none of them talk much. They're all focused on the task at hand, worried about what Malia might do.
Inevitably, the trail leads them into the woods. Stiles has to keep reminding himself that he's here with a werewolf and a kitsune, because otherwise he may well end up frozen with fear. Scott pauses at the edge of the woods, glancing back at them.
"She definitely went in here," Scott says, with a slight grimace. "You don't think -"
"No," Stiles says sharply. Seeing Scott's startled expression, he softens his tone and goes on, "Malia wouldn't just take off. Not…"
"Not without you," Kira finishes, understanding, and Stiles nods.
"Okay." Scott accepts it without question, another mark of how close the pack has grown – and how close Stiles has grown to Malia. Stiles is still not even entirely sure how it happened, how he ended up with someone as wild and reckless as her, but most of the time he doesn't mind. Most of the time, he doesn't even think about it.
"So, are we going in there?" Kira asks after a while, gesturing to the woods.
Scott hesitates, like he's contemplating sending both of them back to their houses – he's always trying to protect them, even Kira, who hardly needs it – but then he just nods and leads the way into the trees. By the time they've gone five yards it's so dark that Stiles can't even see his own feet. Suddenly there's a flicker just up ahead and he's so startled he actually stumbles back, hitting a tree. Then he realizes what it was – Kira, conjuring light. After the incident with the nogitsune, Kira's mother had helped her learn more about her powers. Part of this involved giving her a small handheld device which, when coupled with a dash of kitsune magic, can be used as a sort of omnidirectional flashlight.
Stiles watches his step as he follows the other two, glad for the extra bit of light even though it makes the shadows more pronounced. He debates calling out to Malia, but he's not sure what state she's in. If she's riled up enough, she might just attack them; but if she's at least partly herself, she might listen to them. He decides not to take the chance, just in case, and stays silent as Scott continues tracking her.
After a while they end up in a clearing, and right in the middle of it is a dead rabbit. And standing over the rabbit is a coyote with blazing blue eyes. Scott holds out his arm to stop Kira and Stiles, and all three of them stare at the coyote. After a second the coyote looks up at them, and Stiles knows without a doubt that it's Malia. But there's something in her eyes, something primal and almost lustful, and Stiles finds himself freezing. It's Malia, his girlfriend, someone he really cares about – but it's also not her. It's someone unfamiliar, someone dangerous.
Malia lets out a low growl, planting her front paws firmly on the ground and staring at the intruders. There's blood smeared around her lips, and in a split second Stiles puts the pieces together. It explains the blood, the memory loss – Malia's still in the stage where she can't really remember what she does after she transforms. Scott had gone through something similar, right at the start, and with Malia's jolted introduction into the human world, it makes sense for her to be having trouble with it.
"Malia," Scott says, firmly but gently, and she growls in response. "Malia, listen to me."
For a second it looks like she might actually listen to him, but then she takes a couple steps closer to him, her tail stiff and her lips drawn back in a snarl.
"Malia," Scott says again, but this time there's a touch of fear in his voice – not for himself, since he can easily take her, but fear for his friends, for what might happen if Malia does attack them.
The werecoyote keeps approaching, slowly, aggressively, her eyes locked with Scott's. The alpha is waiting, weighing up his options, but Stiles steps forward before he can come to a decision.
"Malia," he says, and the coyote shifts her attention to him. He almost quails under the intensity of her gaze, but forces himself not to look away. "You can control this. You hear me? You can change again. You're in control."
She comes to a stop, one paw hovering over the ground, indecisive. Stiles takes that as a good sign.
"We've been through this, remember?" Stiles goes on, trying his best to be encouraging without letting his terror show. "You just have to get back in touch with your human side. You don't want to hurt us -" he cuts himself off as she takes a sudden step forward, but then he keeps going "- and the only way to make sure you don't is to change back. Please, Malia, you can do this."
And then, after a long pause, she does. And they all realize it at the time – she's not wearing any clothes. Scott clears his throat and hurries over to offer her his jacket. It's big enough that it covers most of her body, although she doesn't seem embarrassed in the slightest. It's like she's not really here, like she's caught between two worlds, somewhere they can't get to her. Then she blinks and some of the distance fades from her eyes. She looks at Stiles, who's roused into action.
Scott steps back as Stiles approaches and helps Malia to her feet. She leans against him, murmuring an apology, and he tries not to notice that there's still some rabbit blood on her cheek.
"It's okay," he says, kissing the top of her head, "you're safe. We're here. We found you."
If he's absolutely honest with himself – which he tries not to be these days – Stiles half expects her to tell him that she didn't want to be found. But she doesn't, she just thanks him quietly and follows him without a backwards look.
Stiles, Malia, and Kira wait at the edge of the trees while Scott goes to get the car. Before he comes back, Ethan and Isaac show up, and the four of them wait quietly. Stiles knows he should be saying something to Malia, something comforting or encouraging, but he can't find the words. So he just holds her, and hopes it's enough.
Scott drops them all off at their respective houses, leaving Stiles and Malia until last. He drops them both off at the Stilinski house, and refuses to leave until they promise to call him the second anything bad happens. Finally Scott leaves, and Stiles and Malia are alone. Just the two of them.
They don't say much, although Malia keeps assuring him that she's fine and thanking him for finding her and apologizing for running off in the first place. He keeps telling her it's okay, but his words fall flat; he's not even sure he believes them. Malia could have really hurt someone tonight, and although it was a relief to find that she was just hunting woodland creatures, it doesn't mean everything's going to be okay.
It's almost three am by the time they both crawl into bed. Stiles wraps his arm around her and she rests her head against his chest, like they usually do, but something feels off. Stiles can't get his heart to settle and he knows Malia can hear it, but she doesn't mention it. They fall asleep quickly, both exhausted by the night's adventures, and Stiles' last thoughts are of her as he falls asleep.
Because he can't help thinking that there's some part of her that he'll never be able to reach, and it turns out he's not as okay with that as he thought he was.
X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X
As always, your reviews are appreciated and encouraged, and I'll see you all next time.
