Reawakened- Chapter 1: To Forget
Author's Note: Woo. Alrighty. Chapter one. Since I was asked to continue this story, from both AO3 and FF, I will. My goal is to update every Friday or once a week. It's almost 12 here. That's close enough to Friday. Right? Thanks to Jamesk19 for being my first reviewer and follower! Cookie for you! I hope I don't disappoint you with what it is and the plot. This chapter contains some mentions of violence and some curse words. And I just realize I've been adding an extra r to Sheriff. This chapter is around 5.5k words. That'll probably be the average for them, but I hoping to be able to increase them as this story progresses. Now without further ado Chapter 1: To Forget.
~Warning~
Not beta'd. You have been warned.
Disclaimer: oh the things I would do if I owned Teen Wolf...Scissac js
Stiles was packed and ready to leave the house before the clock could strike nine. Stuffing his duffel his car and checked the locks he called his father to tell him of his plans. He picked up on the second ring.
"Yes, Stiles?" The Sheriff asked cautiously. The only time Stiles calls him at the station is bad news, he usually texts.
"Nothing happened. I was just calling to tell ya that I am going to the beach." Stiles leaned against the car not wanting to get in it until he got the okay, especially after the last few months. He did not want to worry his father any more than usual.
There was a pause.
"Which one?"
"Near Baker beach," 'the one we went to after mom died', was left unspoken by Stiles but it was fully understood by his father.
"How long do you expect to be there? Where are you staying? Do you have enough mon-", Stiles cut his father off there. He wanted to joke with his father about how he had thought of all this before and called the inn he was going to be staying in already. However, he did not. His father had a right to be worried, he found out about the supernatural just days before the possession.
"Around six days. That gives me enough time to chill and still be back in time for Christmas."
He heard his dad start typing something before he answered.
"Are you going to go fishing?"
"Oh man! How could I forget that?" Stiles face palmed before opening the door to the car to take out his bag and started walking back towards the house.
"I found a boat rental place that you could call." Stiles made a face while opening the door; of course, his father was on top of everything. Dropping the duffel by the door Stiles made a beeline for the bathroom.
"Hold on. I'm going to need some sunblock if I go on a boat." Stiles started shuffling through the bathroom in search of some sunblock and aloe, just in case. He walked back towards the front door listening to his father talk about which fish can be found near Baker Beach.
"Alright. Give me the number for the place." Stiles said after placing the aloe in the bag and the sunblock down near the bag. Pen in hand and paper up against the wall he jotted it down as the Sheriff said told him the number.
"It's the Raging Waves Rentals," Stiles scrunched his nose at the name.
"Okay. Got it." Stiles said folding the paper to fit it in his pocket. "Where is the fishing equipment again? The shed right?" Stiles moved towards the garage for easy access to the backyard.
"Yes they are in the shed, but they are near the right back corner leaning against the wall. The bait and tackle box should be right next to them. If it isn't then look in the garage by the work bench." His father instructed him.
"Thanks Dad. I'll text you when I get there." Stiles said as he approached the shed.
"Have fun. Keep me posted." With that, the line went dead with a click.
Stiles looked around for the poles, finally spotting them behind a tarp. He navigated his way to them grabbing two and looked down. The box was there like his father had said and stooped to pick it up. He made quick work of securing the locks on the shed and walked to the jeep. Opening the back, he placed the box then the poles with care. After closing the door he jogged back into the house, he grabbed the duffel and went through the door stopping to lock the dead bolt and bottom lock. He jumped into the driver's side placing the bag on the passenger seat. He started the car with one hand and closed the door with the other. He suppressed a smile as he reversed out onto the street. Shifting the car into drive, he felt the excitement of being able to go to the beach again. This time he did smile as he pulled onto the interstate.
By the time, Stiles reached the town it was near dusk. The sky was painted with deep purples and vibrant oranges. The town was quiet as he drove through it. Every few minutes he was able to see the water out the corner of his eye. He came upon a parking lot for beach visitors and parked. He quickly gets out of the jeep with a pair of trunks in his hands. Stiles found a bathroom not far from him. He sprints into it to change.
After he finished changing, he walked – barefoot – to the jeep. Tossing his clothes into the seat he unclips the jeep key and tucks it into the inside pocket of the trunks slamming the door. He charges for the sea. Just before his feet touch the water, he slows down. Testing the water with a foot, he yanks it back. It was colder than he thought. He eased himself into the water to give himself enough time to adjust to the water. After he was waist deep, he took a deep breath and dived. He lost track of time in the water. By the time he left the ocean, the stars had come out to decorate the sky. Stiles whistled low under his breath at the sight. He could see so many stars compared to Beacon Hills, it was always cloudy or there was too much light to see all of them. Not here.
Stiles was unaware of the two glowing orbs that followed his movements the moment he stepped foot out of the water. They were a bright blue peeking out from the rocks. Stiles started back towards the jeep a shiver running through him with every gust of wind. He pulled on his jacket when he got back into the car. Stiles drove off towards the inn where he booked a room. Surprisingly it was only a few minutes from the beach; he could walk to and from the beach from here. After checking in and getting his room key, he shoved open the door and shed his trunks and jacket. He collapsed on the bed pulling the covers around and promptly passed out.
Stiles awoke the next morning to his stomach protesting for food. He groaned as he sat up. The sheets were sticking to him and his skin felt tacky. He quickly showered washing off the salt from his skin. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he steps into bedroom to look for clothes. He grabs pair of checkered trunks and light blue t-shirt. Grabbing his wallet from his discarded pants, he slips on some flip-flops and walks out the door. He checks his phone for the time, 9:45 a.m. Stiles was surprised by how long he slept without interruptions. He walked to the front lobby to get some free breakfast. The other guests there looked tired and ready to go the beach, especially the kids who were darting around their parents who were gripping the mugs of coffee as if they were lifelines.
He chuckled to himself and poured himself coffee from the pot. He grabbed cream and sugar packets before ripping into them and pouring them into his mug, or plastic cup but a boy could dream. Taking one of the stirring straws, he looked around to figure out what he would eat from the small array of food. His eyes landed on oatmeal packets. They were stacked in a ceramic container. He found the cinnamon and sugar packet and smiled. He quickly opened the packet and added the hot water from the canister at the end of the counter. Nicking a spoon before heading over to a table to eat his breakfast. He devoured the oatmeal after stirring to make sure it was all cooked. He took his time with the coffee, relishing in caffeine coursing through his body. He opened his eyes quickly at a thought.
'Shit I forgot my medicine.' He mentally cursed himself and downed the rest of his coffee.
He walked back up to the counter to pour himself another cup. He was going to need all the caffeine if he wished to stay focused. (AN: I have ADD and I know for a fact that caffeine actually helps with focusing. Something to do with brain chemistry) Stiles went back to his table and mixed his coffee until it was a creamy brown. Gathering and throwing away his trash Stiles walked towards his room. He typed the rental place into his phone GPS and hopped into the car. It took him five minutes to navigate through the town and found the place his dad mentioned. It had a vintage look to it and seemed to be busy. He hoped that there was still boats left as he jumped out the car. The bell on the door rang causing the clerk to look up at him.
"What can I do for you?" The boy behind the counter asked cheerfully.
Stiles eyed the prices before answering. "I would like to rent a boat for half the day."
"What kind you want, sir?" The boy – Andrew according to his nametag – asked.
"What kind is left?" Stiles' eyes wandered around the shop as Andrew typed away looking through the database.
"We have a Champion 545i left." Stiles nodded. "That'll be $456.48." Stiles sucked in a breath through his teeth.
He reluctantly pulled out his wallet taking out his debit card, glad that his jeep has not broken down since the kanima incident. He then knocked three times on the wooden counter to counteract the jinx he put on himself. The clerk gave him a weird look as he scanned the card. He handed Stiles back the card and asked him to sign and verify on the screen in front of him. Stiles glanced at the clock as he did so it was half past 10.
"When does the boat need to be back?" Stiles wanted to know to set an alarm so he does not have to pay extra.
"By 5." Andrew ripped the receipt off the register and handed it to him. Turning to face the board behind him, he grabbed the keys for plot 34 and handed them to Stiles.
"The boats are round back you can either go through the back door over there-", he pointed to the glass door to Stiles' left, "-or through the gate if you need to grab things from your vehicle." Stiles nodded and turned to go through the exit, keys in hand.
Stiles grabbed his poles and tackle box from the back stuffing the receipt into his pocket along with the boat keys. He made the poles lean against the tires in order for him to close the back and lock it. He walked around the car and looked for the gate Andrew mentioned. He spotted it. It was an off-white color and about chest high. He unlatched it and, once he was through, closed it hearing the click that told him that it was closed. Stiles walked down the boardwalk towards the only boat left. It was white with two green stripes running down its sides. Stopping before the boat it had a box with a pen near the rope that secured it to the pier. The box was on a pole and was up to his shoulder. He opened it to find a sheet that wanted his name and number. Stiles guessed it was for emergency contact just in case something were to happen and to keep track of who has a particular boat.
It only took a couple of seconds to write out his name and untie the boat then he was on the boat and trying to navigate it out of the piers. While he was backing up and took note of the plot number that was painted on the side of the boardwalk. Once he was out, he started to pick up speed. He went out so far that the pier was only a speck in the distance. Deciding that it wasn't too far, Stiles set up his poles.
Stiles woke with a jolt when something cold hit his cheek. He sprung up from his seated position and scrambled to find his phone to check the time. In trying to avoid stepping on a pole and breaking it he tripped and hit his head against the side of the boat. Rubbing his head with one hand, he placed the fishing poles on the seat. He looked up when another drop hit him on the shoulder. The once blue clear sky was now covered in clouds. He grabbed the t-shirt he had discarded after an hour of fishing. Finally finding his phone next to the driver seat he looks at the time it was 3:30 p.m. He breathed a sigh of relief and started looking for the rental's port. Stiles barely saw it. Realizing that he must have drifted while he was sleeping, he sits in the seat to drive. One the way back Stiles starts to wonder what his friends in Beacon Hills are doing. Giving into curiosity, he calls Scott. Scott picks up on the first ring.
"Stiles? Your dad said that you went to the beach?"
"Yeah. I figured I needed some time to relax – away from Beacon Hills. After what I-" Scott interrupts him.
"I get it. Just a little heads up next time."
"It was sorta a last minute thing." Scott laughed.
"Now that sounds like something you would do. What are you doing at the beach? I hear a motor and wind, you on a boat?" Stiles swears he could hear the tilt of Scott's head like a dogs through the phone at trying to figure out what Stiles was doing.
"Ye-up," emphasizing the 'P'. "I rented one to go fishing, but somehow fell asleep." Another laugh.
"Were you wearing anything?"
"Scott I thought you didn't view me in that way." Stiles joked.
Scott started to sputter. "I-I…what?...No…" – he sighed – "I meant did you put on sunblock or were you wearing a shirt 'cause you get burned so easily." Stiles could feel his ears turning red.
"I put on sunblock!" Stiles fiercely stated when he heard his best friend's laughs through the phone. Then his brain kicked in.
"Shit." He huffed.
"What?" Scott said in between laughs.
"I forgot it."
"Forgot what? The sunblock?" Scott sounded pained as if he was trying to hold something back.
"Yes! I knew I forgot something!" Stiles hit himself on the head with his hand, wincing when he hit the spot from earlier.
"Did you take any Adderall today?"
"No, Dad, I didn't." Stiles mocked. "I was writing down the number for the boat place that Dad suggested. He said you better rent a boat 'cause you get the best fish if you catch them yourself. I had it in my hand, but I put it down to jot it down-" Stiles was speaking quickly.
"Stiles."
"-is why you don't distract Stiles. You distract Stiles then Stiles forgets things. A forgetful Stiles gets burned, heh burned. I wanted to go swimming tomorrow! I ca-"
"STILES." Scott practically yelled to get his friend's attention.
"What Scott?" Stiles snapped.
"Breathe. Normal people breathe in between sentences."
Stiles scoffed. "Like you can talk, Mr. Alpha Werewolf."
"You were rambling. Stop by a convenience store, they probably have Aloe. If you treat it quickly enough, you will be able to swim tomorrow. Just enjoy your vacation. I'll call you if anything happens here." Scott promised.
Stiles took a deep breath and released it before answering.
"Okay, Scott. Hey. I will only be a few more days then we can go look for Derek. Take this time to relax yourself." Stiles told him.
"I will. Bye."
"Bye." Stiles mumbled before locking the phone and putting it into his pocket.
He drove in silence listening to the few raindrops hitting the water and the hum of the motor. Thirty minutes later, he pulled up to plot 34. He shut off the motor and retied the rope around the hook. He secured his hooks on his poles, grabbed the box along with the poles, stepped off the boat, and jogged back up to the store. He entered the store and Andrew looked up from his spot from behind the counter. He placed the magazine down and out the way. Stiles walked up to the counter and placed the keys down. Andrew smiled at him picking them up.
"It looks like you got some sun today." Shocked and embarrassed, Stiles replied with a terse Yes and left out through the front door.
The bell jingling to announce his departure. He briskly walked to his Jeep. Throwing open the back door he shoved the fishing equipment into the car. He was mindful of the poles when closing the door. Hopping into the front, he started the vehicle and whipped out of the parking lot.
He pulled up to his motel room and dragged himself out the car to the door. He slung the box over his shoulder, wincing slightly at the discomfort from the fabric rubbing against his skin. He opened the door dropping the box by the air conditioner. Once the door was closed, he carefully peeled off the light blue tee to do a full damage report. He kicked his flip-flops off on his journey to the bathroom. Flipping the light on he turned to look at himself in the mirror. Now he wasn't what he would call buff, but he did have some muscles, years of lacrosse will do that to a person even if he did sit on the bench most of the time. His torso was slightly red indicating a sunburn. Silently praying during his walk back to the duffel at the end of the bed that he would find the Aloe in his bag. He shouted when he found that he did indeed pack it. Suppressing the urge to kiss the bottle he ran back to the bathroom.
'Thank God! I want to be able to enjoy the beach for a little while longer' he thought as he started spreading the Aloe onto his skin. The aloe was cold against his skin shocking him at first, but soon found it soothing. When he finished putting on the last of it thankful of how flexible his arms were, he let the Aloe soak into his skin. He clasped his hands together in mock prayer hoping that he didn't burn but instead a tan.
He stripped off the trunks, placing them back into his bag and pulling out a pair of boxers – Batman, naturally – and slipped them on. Digging through the duffel for his phone charger, he looked outside it was dark; the rain had begun to pour. He found his charger and plugged both his phone and it in. He placed it on the nightstand that was on the right of the bed and sat down. He stared at the world outside his window. After a while, his eyes began to droop, taking that as his cue he got up and closed the blinds. Before laying down on the bed, Stiles checked to make sure that his Aloe was dry and that the door was locked. He plopped down on the bed, snuggling into the sheets. He fell asleep listening to the steady sound of the rainfall.
Stiles woke up to being forcibly dragged form the bed. He tried to fight back making his arms flail about causing his assailant to catch them easily. He twisted his body to see his attacker. What he saw made his blood run cold. Two glowing gold eyes were staring back at him and there was a low growling.
"Shit!" The sudden outburst caused the man – Stiles assumed it was a man – to loosen his grip on one of Stiles' hands. Stiles jerked out of his grip and tried to reach for his phone, which was still connected to the charger. The hand came back, rougher this time, and gripped his wrist bending Stiles' hand backwards. He yelped and soon found a hand in vice like grip around his neck. Stiles' hands flew to pry the hand away in order to prevent the further crushing of his windpipe. The more he struggled, kicking the shins, pulling at the hand, and hitting their arms, the tighter the grip got until Stiles started to feel lightheaded. He gasped a few more times trying to get the much-needed oxygen to his lungs.
"..we got him, sir." Were the last words before he passed out, lost to the world.
Stiles awoke to being strapped to a chair. He started to groan but started to cough not fully recovered from the attack. He immediately shut his eyes after opening them. The pain that shot through them too much. He slowly opened them this time. Fear crept into his being when the events of yesterday, if the light was anything to go by, rushed through his mind. He looked down pleading-
'Please let me be clothed'
He sighed in relief when not only was he wearing his boxers, but he was sporting tattered gray sweat pants too. He looked around to figure out where he was. He only saw the insides of a rundown industrial basement. The sun light was leaking through holes in the ceiling where panels should be. There was exposed pipes, wires and beams everywhere he looked. The whole place had a coat of both rust and dust covering the place. The ground at his feet was littered with trash and dirt. He tested his bindings to find that he was zip tyed and duct taped to the chair. The cold of the metal that was touching his back gave him some relief to the itch that had invaded his skin. Trying to get a better view, he craned his neck and moved his shoulders only to nearly bit his tongue in order to stifle a scream.
'Dammit. Sunburn! Looks like the Aloe last night did not help it'
He closed his eyes and decided that he might as well try to find out who had kidnapped-was it kidnapping if he wasn't a kid?-abducted, abducted him. He planned on annoying them so much that they show their faces to shut him up. He called out-
"Hello? Anybody there? If you wanted to talk you could've asked nicely and I would've complied, but now I'm not so sure because taking someone and tying them to a chair is a good way to get someone to comply." Sarcasm was dripping from his voice. "Metal? Smart thinking. Although, I wanted to try that move I saw Natasha do in the Avengers movie. I am assuming you seen it considering its metal and not wood. I am not too sure if it would work though because I don't have ridiculous werewolf strength-" something shuffled. "-and probably would've ended sideways on the floor, with numerous bruises. Speaking of floors, this one needs to be cleaned. When was the last time it was cleaned it looks as if some major disease could be living on it. If you need a maid I'm sure that there is one you could c-"
"For someone in your situation you sure do talk a lot." Stiles jumped at the sudden voice. It came from the side. Twisting his head he saw a man – a quite muscular one at that, maybe even more so than Derek – leaning against a beam.
"I have no brain to mouth filter. It's a curse really, but you would know..." Stiles lowered his voice. He flicked his eyes back towards the man after scanning the room. 'There has got to be more than one, now all I need to know is where.' Stiles thought. Even with the knowledge, he could not do anything about his current predicament. The man's eyes flashed gold.
"Personally, I think it is more of a blessing than a curse." The man sneered and moved closer to Stiles.
"Which begs the question why hasn't your Alpha given you the bite? I mean being a human in a wolf pack must make them vulnerable." The comment hit Stiles at his core. Bristling, Stiles glared at the man who just laughed.
"Now. Now. We only want information." The man crossed his arms, the black shirt he was wearing looking as if it was painted on.
"Information on what?" As soon as the question left, his mouth Stiles regretted it. The man smirked.
"Information on the pack of one True Alpha, I believe his name was McCall." Stiles stopped breathing and sat straighter at his friend's name. This did not go unnoticed by his captor.
"Oh, ho. So you ARE familiar with his pack. We figured you were since you reeked of wolves when you arrived and his is the only one this close to us." Stiles shivered at the tone the man was using.
"Now be a dear and answer this: How many are there in his pack?" Stiles stilled thinking about all the pack members they had lost because of him.
"Anytime now." That snapped him back to reality and from those dark thoughts.
"Fuck you. I won't tell you about my pack" Stiles spat out, not wanting to be the reason even more die. This earned a laugh from the man.
"Don't be like that. You are a human, not a wolf. You can't be a part of a pack," The man growled out the last bit.
"Now tell me." The man had moved a few feet closer.
"Again. Fuck you. In the ass with wolfs bane." Stiles tried to put all of his hatred into his stare. The man's eyes flickered to gold and was upon Stiles in a second. Stiles hissed when he felt claws go across his face.
"I asked you nicely. Twice. Now I'm going to ask once more before my Alpha gets here. And trust me when I say this-" his hand gripped Stiles' shoulder. Stiles bit his tongue to keep from yelling. "-she don't take no for answer. How many?" The grip tightened and Stiles squeezed his eyes shut.
"I don't think I want to t-" Stiles was silenced with a swift jab to the ribs. Screaming when he felt something give. The man stepped back. Stiles coughed and doubled over, as much as he could with the restraints.
"Piece of shit." The man growled. Stiles looked back up at him, panting. He raises his fist again and started swinging when he was stopped by-
"Jacob. No. You have done enough. I will deal with it from here." A woman appeared on the stairs.
Jacob grumbled but backed away to lean back onto the pillar from before. The woman was tall, pale with dirty blonde hair and oozed power. Her hair was set in curls. She was wearing a white tank, black leggings and brown riding boots. All this with a leather jacket.
'Must be a required of a werewolf' Stiles thought as he rolled his eyes. The woman walked down the stairs towards Stiles.
"My name is Melissa. Now it's only customary to give me yours." She demanded while her eyes flashed red.
"Oh you're the Alpha. Since you demanded so nicely. It's Stiles" Stiles ground out.
"What the hell is a Stiles?" Jacob scoffed.
"It's my name, wolf boy" Stiles shot back.
Jacob growled and stepped forward. The two eyes were locked, trying to stare the other down.
"Jacob" Melissa warned. Jacob looked away and Stiles found some joy in the older male looking away first.
"Now Stiles. Jacob was asking you earlier how big McCall's – no your – pack?" Her voice was sickly sweet and she leaned in until her face was just inches from his. He spat in her face. She recoiled and started shifting due to her anger.
'Bad move, Stilinski' Stiles chide himself.
"I rather die than sell out my friends." Stiles held his chin higher. She lunged at him she dug her nails into his thighs, nicking the bones.
"That can be arranged" She sneered around her fangs. Stiles screamed until his throat was raw.
After many hours, Melissa gave up when Stiles passed out from his blood loss. She got up and the little sunlight left showed her physique. Her once white tank was stained crimson. She wiped her hands on her leggings, she glanced the boy in the chair. Stiles was heavily breathing in his sleep and his skin was stained red, glistening from the blood running from his wounds. Melissa walked over to Jacob who was now sitting on the chair near a bag with clothes. He had left hours ago to procure it from their main house. She stripped out of the bloodied tank and threw it down onto the ground. He tossed her a wet towel, which she then started cleaning off her arms. They swapped items once her torso was clean. He tossed her a new shirt and she tossed back the towel.
"I'm surprised that it lasted this long. All the others died before now," he admitted standing up.
"He was stubborn. The McCall pack has a good human bitch, or rather had." She pulled her jacket back on.
"He has no use to us since he refused to cooperate and spill any pack secrets," she snarled.
"So how are we going to kill him?"
"Well first we take his memories because of those damn things," She said while motioning with her hands in the direction of the sea.
"Hopefully they won't take an interest in him," she said.
"Why don't we just leave him on the side of the road or something?" Jacob suggested as if it was obvious.
Melissa snapped at him, "Because in the sea there is a chance the sharks will get him before they do. In addition, even if they did find him, the seawater will wash away our scents. And if his pack caught wind of us before we strike they will kill us." She elongated her claws on her way back to Stiles. She stalked around behind Stiles and stabbed him in the neck. Stiles' head snapped back up and his eyes opened, his mouth open in a silent scream. His face contorted in pain. After a few minutes, she pulled out and his head drooped again.
"I see why he calls himself Stiles." She flicked the blood from her nails.
"Wait if you could figure that out from doing that then why couldn't we do that at the start?" Jacob's dark eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.
"Only some things come with the take of memories. I only got his name and nothing else. Remember this Jacob When taking one's memories you have to take what makes the person themselves. I.e. a name, feelings, anything the person feels that is them." She paused looking from Stiles to Jacob. Her teeth showing when she smirked. "And I love to torture people so."
"Cut him free so we can go" She demanded walking towards the front.
Jacob obeyed and slashed through the bindings with his claws. Throwing Stiles over his shoulder, he followed her out the door. When they reached the beach after a short run, Stiles' blood had soaked through Jacob's jacket.
"Do you want me to do it or…" Jacob shut his mouth when he saw her look. Her eyes flashed red.
"I'll do it because I'm the Alpha and stronger. The further I throw him out, the better."
Jacob gave Stiles to her and she hefted him above her head. She got into position and threw him as if he weighed no more than a tennis ball rather than a teenage boy.
"Good riddance" Jacob muttered as he watched Stiles' body fly through the air and finally drop into the sea.
Stiles came to with his whole body aching. The ceiling he saw when opening his eyes was unfamiliar and panic washed through him. Not knowing where he was, he bolted upright only to be pushed back down by a firm hand.
"Whoa there take it easy," A man gently said.
"Wh-What am I doing here?" Stiles asked as he studied the man before him.
He was tan and didn't look to be much older than 17. His hair was brown with almost copper highlights from the sun light streaming through from his right. It was short and spiked up in the front. He was wearing a white shirt unbuttoned showing his torso. Stiles eyes drifted lower, sizing up the man in front of him trying to figure out if he could get away if need be. He was wearing lime green trunks with a white stripe down the side. Stiles looked up at him in confusion.
"Who are you? Why am I here?" Stiles asked staring at the ceiling not blinking.
"Well I can answer the first question for ya. I'm Trevor. Trevor Abram. And I brought you to my house after I found you passed out on the beach. However, if you are asking why you are in this town, that's your business not mine. Now what's your name?" Trevor asked as he walked around the couch and to the kitchen for water. It was for both him and the stranger on his sofa.
"I don't know." It was barely a whisper, but Trevor caught it.
"What?" He asked appearing in the doorway that connected the kitchen and living room. He was staring at the boy on his couch in concern.
"What do you mean you don't know? Do you not know your name or why you're here?"
"Neither." Stiles sighed. "but-" Trevor's head snapped back to him.
"I remember Stiles."
"What is a Stiles? Is it a person? Or a place?" Trevor walked back around the sofa to look at the boy. The whiskey colored eyes he met were lost and scared.
"I don't know," he whispered looking down. Trevor placed a hand of his guest's shoulder. He could see the tears building in his eyes. A lone tear slipped out while he spoke the next words-
"I don't remember anything."
AN: Going through this I realize I like to start a scene with Stiles waking up. I think its only this chapter that its repeated so much. So how about that cliffhanger?
As always reviews are welcome.
Until next Friday. Bluetears out~
