Chapter Three: Disappearing Act
Song Inspiration: Fading Through By Wafia feat. Vancouver Sleep Clinic
The flash of the camera goes off and Malia steps up to take her class picture. She usually didn't make a big fuss about things like this but it was her first and last yearbook photo of high school. She had come too late into junior year to have one made and today marked a key milestone in her life. She had survived senior year so far and this little memento will mark a big change in her as a person. Little by little, things were starting to get easier.
With lots of practice and her new powers, she had managed to master the shift. The first time she shifted back into her coyote alter ego, she stood boundless and free on all fours and ran as fast as she could through the hooded greenery of the trees. Blurs of greys, blues, and emeralds swam together before her eyes like watercolors blending together, painting the woods in a vivacious richness. Here she felt one with nature, something she had lost touch with a while ago. Everything was so fast and exhilarating. The chirping of crickets filled the noise in her head and water droplets fell against her fur coat. Her vision was sharper, the smells were more versatile and intense, and the dust particles in the air glittered in the glory of her surreal, blue eyes.
Malia had actually disappeared for a week after that, almost completely forgetting about all of it: Scott, Lydia, Liam, Mason, Hayden, Corey... Stiles. Her mind went back and forth in a mercurial frenzy. This is what she had always wanted... To feel the dirt squish between her paws, the warming comfort of the fur against her skin, and the sweet reprieve of laying in her den once again. She had considered it: she could stay there, this way, forever. She wouldn't have to go back to her life and be bound by silly, human conventions. She wouldn't have to deal with math, supernatural disasters, ex-boyfriends, college, or the awkward realization that she may have feelings for her exes' best friend. Life could o back to being exactly as it was before, a requiem of a dream.
But a nagging sensation beat at the back of her head, reminding her... pulling her back to home. To her friends.
To Scott.
She couldn't abandon him. Scott was the one person in her life who never gave up on her. He showed her that there is more to life than just running, no matter how good it feels. Fighting her instincts was always her weak point. She went against her impulses to rip her mother to shreds, saving Deaton instead. She fought against every minuscule part of her that desired to rip Stiles' face apart and crush his delicate bones between her hands at Lydia's lake house last year. She tried so hard to fake a smile every time on the rare occasion that her and Stiles were alone together. She really, really tried not to resent Lydia for falling in love with him, even if she herself didn't realize it. But Malia knew, you can't fabricate that sort of thing.
And she couldn't have done these things without Scott.
When Stiles managed to interrupt her photo for the umpteenth time, Malia huffed and growled under her breath, grabbing him by the collar of his red and blue flannel and pulled him over to the others watching on in amusement. Lydia gave her a smile but her eyes lingered on Stiles with endearing annoyance, a look that Malia has gotten used to.
Scott meets her eyes and they light up in a silent hello, causing the corner of her lips to quirk up faintly.
"So who's trying to go with me to Alex's house?" Stiles asks enthusiastically, meeting her eyes in question before shifting his gaze to Lydia and Scott.
"I have to retake my photos, no thanks to you. So count me out." She waves her hand dismissively, turning to grab her math book out of her bag.
"Yeah, I think I'm going to sit this one out." Lydia sighs with an arched brow and a sassy pucker of her lips, turning her eyes back to her perfectly manicured nails.
Scott gestures down to his notebook. "Psyche paper." Is all he says, before he receives an incredulous look from Lydia and Stiles.
He looks over at Malia and a soft grin crosses her face before she blushes and brings her attention back to her book, cutely embarrassed. He can tell that he had impressed her.
His heart swells with pride knowing that she's proud of him.
Now if only he could get her to look at him like that without looking away.
Stiles stumbles through the hallways, searching for one recognizable face.
He sees Mason, Liam, and Hayden standing together in a huddle and rushes over to them in a panic. "Guys, you'll have to get out of her, they're coming! Where is Scott? You'll need to stay with either him or me."
The trio gawk at him with dumbfounded expressions and blank eyes.
"Do we even know him?" Hayden whispers in Liam's ear, scooting closer into his side.
"Does he even go here...?" Liam nudges Mason, eyes shifting back and forth between him and Stiles.
Mason coughs. "Uh, dude. Do you- do you even go to this school?"
Stiles stares back in silent worry. It had already gotten to them... They don't remember him.
He doesn't waste any time answering their questions, knowing it won't be any use. He turns on his heel down the hallway and ignores them calling after him. Pulling out his phone as he paces the tile floor, he finds Scott's number and presses the dial button. He has his bottom lip stuck between his teeth, chewing on it nervously as he waits for Scott to pick up.
"Hello"
"Hey! Scott, okay listen. The ghost riders have gotten to me. Liam, Hayden, Mason... They've already started forgetting. They don't remember me..."
"Who... Is this?"
And with those three small insignificant words, Stiles Stilinski's world significantly shatters.
His voice cracks and he feels his throat begin to close up as he chokes on tears.
"Hey uh, look buddy. I know you don't know what I'm talking about but um- just, just promise me you'll look out for them, okay? Can you do that for me- and uh-"
Stiles pauses and thinks of all the things he wants to say, all the things he regrets not doing before. He wishes he had told Scott that he loved him more, especially earlier today. He had wanted to tell him so bad, but he didn't realize it would be their last time together for a while, possibly ever. He wishes he had sorted things out with Lydia, talked to her more about every thing that had gone on between them. They were in this awkward limbo where he wasn't sure if they were just friends or something more. And then her, Malia. His single, greatest fuck up. He had failed her in so many ways, more than he could count. He wishes he had been a better boyfriend to her, a better friend. If he could go back and do it all over, he would. They'd been tip-toeing around each other, never really talking about what happened between them, or what didn't happen. He's missed her, more than she'll ever know. And believe it or not, he had loved her... Differently than how he had ever loved anyone else. Lydia may have been his first love, but Malia had been the first girl to love him back, and that means something to him. He had let things get messy between them, never really resolving anything. He had jumped back into his old, confusing feelings for Lydia and never really took time to mourn their relationship. And it hurts so bad knowing that soon, he'll just be an empty space in her heart and mind. He'll cease to exist, all their memories disappearing with him into an oblivious pit of nihility. And that realization hurt so bad.
"Scott, take care of the pack while I'm gone." He's about to hang up, but stops himself before he can end the call. "Protect her, okay? Don't let her lose control. Be there for her and keep her grounded." He whispers, clutching the phone in his shaking hand.
"Protect who?" Scott asks.
"Malia. Protect Malia, Scott." He pleads and hangs up the phone before he starts crying. In his anger, he launches the phone at the wall, watching it shatter and clatter to the ground in pieces. His body is vibrating in anxiety and his head is constantly on the swivel as he meanders through the halls, searching for anyone he can find.
He rounds the corner and runs straight into none other than Malia.
She clutches his arm and pulls him forward into a hug. "Stiles, it's happening, isn't it? Lydia was talking about it. The ghost riders are here and their coming for you. You don't have much time. One second she's explaining everything to me and then the next second she stops talking completely with this glazed look in her eye. I asked her what she was going to say, when were they coming for you. And she just looked at me with this eerily vacant expression and said "What the hell is a Stiles?'" Malia says which a worried crease in her brow.
Stiles wanted to smooth out the crease with the pad of his thumb, but it isn't time for that.
"Malia, I don't have time to explain, but we have to go! Hurry, they'll be here any minute now!" He yells, grabbing her hand and racing out the front doors of the school.
The moon is high and the sky is dark, flipping from day to night in what seemed like a blink of an eye. Stiles heart beats heavy in his chest and he's spooked by his own shadow. Malia squeezes his hand harder and he's never been more grateful for her strength then in that very moment. He was shaking and scared and the feel of her cool hand in his eased his mind, ever so slightly.
Stiles jeep is the only car left in the parking lot and the two race towards it and find shelter inside. He still clutches Malia's cold hands between his warm ones and turns her head to look at him.
"Malia, I have to say some things to you before this is all over, okay? I need you to focus on me however you have to." He says gently, and he takes a breath when her dark brown eyes meet his.
"I was a shitty boyfriend. I was the worst kind of person and I made you feel like you weren't good enough and that's on me-" He begins.
"Stiles-" She tries to interrupt.
"No, no Mal, let me finish. I only have a little bit more time, but you need to hear this. I was an asshole. I know that, you know that. Everyone knows that. I should have been a better friend, a better pack mate, a better lover. You trusted me to be there for you and I let you down. I left you behind when I swore I wouldn't."
Malia's eyes fill with unshed tears and he wipes one away that falls freely down her face.
His voice grows softer. "It wasn't fair to you. Everything was crazy and got shot to hell. I didn't know how to talk to you anymore and I convinced myself that I could be happy without you. I missed out on you, the girl of a lifetime. The kind of girl that guys way smarter than me write songs about. You always kept me on my toes and my heart racing and I just want you to know that I'm going to miss this." He gestures between the two of them, running his fingertips down her temple and cups her cheek. Her chocolate eyes bore deep into his own and he remembers why he fell for them the first time around.
"You're going to forget this... You're going to forget me..." He states, brokenly. It wasn't a matter of if, but a matter of when.
"How could I ever forget you? It won't feel the same, I know it. I'll feel something missing." She speaks through those gorgeous, pink lips. And he can't help but stare at her, memorizing the curve of her cheek and the silkiness of her hair.
"Find some way to remember me. Remember that you're the first girl that I ever fell asleep with in my arms. Remember that you are the one who saved me and showed me what it's like to love and to be loved in return. And... Remember that I will always care for you, even if we're not together and even if we're far, far away from each other."
"I will, I promise. I'll bring you back... I'll bring you home." Malia cries and launches into his arms, clinging to every piece of him that she could. She inhaled his airy scent and ran her hands over the fabric of his shirt while laying her head on his shoulder.
"Tell Scott and my dad that I love them, okay? You have to fight. And know that I'll always be with you." He vows, talking quietly into her ear as he smooths her hair to calm her down.
The door to the jeep goes flying open abruptly and Stiles is ripped from her arms as his limbs fly out from underneath him. He's being pulled further away from her and Malia attempts to fight them off. She lunges out of the jeep and round-kicks the first rider, knocking him off his horse. She claws at the other, drawing a green gooey liquid, and gasps for breath when the third one's lasso shoots out and wraps around her throat, cutting off her air supply.
"Malia!" Stiles yells, but he's too far away now. His voice echos through the night and rings in her ears like listening to a heartbeat. The ghost rider lets her go with a flick of his wrist and the rope around her neck loosens until Malia falls slack against the cement. Rain beats down on her body like a million tiny licks to her skin, burning her the more and more it falls. Her body is soaked from head to toe and she lays sprawled out on the pavement, staring absently up into the sky that continue it's assault. Rain pellets cling to her lashes and her face feels frozen in place. The last thing she remembers is the sound of her own voice as she whispers the words over and over...
Remember... Remember... Remember...
The sun shines proudly over Beacon Hills and Malia wakes to the feeling of foreign arms wrapped around her waist. She hears a soft snoring from behind her and she turns and finds a boy in her bed. Something about their position feels wrong. She flips him over and she is now the big spoon, cuddling him close into her naked chest. Suddenly, she's hit with a nauseating sensation of deja vu and pulls away from him, getting out of the bed. Something about this felt... Off. Oddly wrong. Like she'd done this before... But she quickly dismisses the thought. She definitely would remember if she's been with this guy before and since he's new to town and Malia doesn't usually make it a habit of hooking up with random guys, it must be nothing.
Right... She forgot about him. Nathan, isn't it? Too much alcohol does that to a girl. Lydia had convinced her to go with her to this party that some guy on the lacrosse team was throwing. She had taken 10 shots, had two goes at a whiskey bottle, and a hit of fireball before a delicious buzz began to set into her stomach and her libido to kick into overdrive. Feeling flowy and loose to her surrounding, Malia had snagged up the cute, new guy who had asked her to dance. She remembers dragging her nose up his neck leading to his pulse point and leaving a bruised purple mark right where he had liked it.
And now there he lays, still here, and taking up all the covers which she did not find amusing. She shot a quick text to Lydia, asking for advice on how to kick him out. Lydia responded almost immediately, telling her to lie and say that she was getting back together with an old boyfriend. In order to make this more believable, she called up Scott in the privacy of her bathroom and begged him to come over and play the part of her so-called "ex-boyfriend"
About fifteen minutes later, a knock to her door had her up and about, leaving a still snoring Nathan in her bed. Her and Scott made a show of fake-arguing right outside her door, causing a loud enough noise that Nathan woke up and came to check on her.
"Malia, hey... What's going on-" He stops and quiets when he sees Scott standing by her side with his arm around her waist. His big, warm hand rubs small circles on her hipbone and Malia gets a little lost in the feeling. She remembers that she has a part to play and turns to Nathan.
"Nathan... This is Scott, my ex-boyfriend. And he's the-"
"Captain of the lacrosse team." Scott finishes for her with an intimidating scowl on his face as he leers at the poor boy stuck in the door way.
"Right, yeah I'm the... New guy." Nathan mumbles out, already embarrassed and slightly terrified that he just shacked up with his new team captain's girl.
Scotts eyes flash dangerously in Nathan's direction. "I suggest you leave. And I would make it a priority to stay out of my sight for the next few weeks... Or the rest of the year. If you know what's good for you." He threatens, squeezing Malia's hip possessively.
The show of authority makes Malia's skin hot with excitement and she curls her hands into fists as she fights a breathy moan from leaving her lips. She liked the safeness she felt being in Scott's tan, muscular arms.
"I'll- I'll just be going now." Nathan squeaks, moseying on past them with skittish movements, as if Scott would reach out and snap his neck if he made the wrong move or so much as breathed in Malia's direction.
What's even worse is that Scott felt like doing just that.
When Malia had called and told him what was going on, he had felt jealously course through his veins. Scott and her were best friends, had been since she's turned back human. He'd been dating Kira at the time and he had loved her. However, he'd kept Malia in the back of his mind, storing her away to a place that he couldn't see her. He went so long trying to not notice her, but deep down he's always had a soft spot for her. Even with Kira gone, his feelings stayed tempered and muted as she didn't seem to return them. Malia is a wild-spirited, free-falling soul. She couldn't be tamed. She is a wanderess without direction. She didn't believe in settling down and the wind was her map through life, carrying her to far away places that no one else could follow. She had a tendency to disappear sometimes, whether literally or inside her own head, taking a trip to another life in another city. She ghosted in and out of reality, but Scott was always there, caught in her skin when she was lost. Somehow, she always found her way back home and Scott was the first to welcome her into his arms.
"Thanks Scott, you're a life-saver. You actually seemed believable back there. You know, it was kind of hot the way you got all territorial over me. Maybe I've been overlooking the golden boy all along." She says lightly with enchantment dancing in her eyes as she walks around in one of his shirts that he'd let her borrow at some point over the course of their friendship. It falls about mid-thigh and exposes her long, naked legs to his predatory eyes. It's hopeless, she knew what she was doing to him.
"It's not like I'm just sitting around waiting for you or anything..." Scott murmurs, lifting his eyes to meet hers. She can tell that she's struck a nerve and the playful sparkle in her eyes goes out as she takes his hand and pulls him over to the window sill.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that." She says hurriedly, afraid he'll finally realize that she isn't worth his time and leave her all alone. That's what she's used to, people leaving. Her mom and sister left her, unwillingly, but they're still dead. Death is a form of abandonment, and Malia felt the loss every morning when she woke up without them. Her dad is rarely at home, not accustomed to deal with his eighteen year old daughter in the broken home where his family used to be whole. So this is what Malia does, pushes people away. She has commitment issues and never stays in one place for too long. She knows that Scott is the one person who has always saw her for what she is and still loved her with all her flaws included. She selfishly wanted to keep him close, but at a safe distance. People have the power to hurt you, and she couldn't risk losing him. That's why she won't let herself feel anything but the fleeting gratification of a random guy's mouth on her skin and the hollow numbness of the cigarette that sits loosely between her lips. That's the expanse of what she allows, nothing more nothing less.
Scott puts his arm around her shoulder and she instantly melts into his embrace, easily relating the feeling to coming home after a long day and wrapping up in a warm blanket.
"I don't want you to feel bad for me, Mal. It's not your responsibility to tip-toe around my feelings. I don't want you walking on eggshells around me. You know you'll always be my girl. I'm just waiting for the day you realize that you don't have to give your time or your body to people who aren't worth it, like that guy Nathan. You don't have to let in a bunch of empty bodies with lifeless minds to use as a coping mechanism for the fear of not having anyone to love you." Scott explains, wishing he could just shake her until she understood. But this was Malia, and she wasn't one to be reasoned with.
"Scott, people scare me. They terrify me. Humans change their minds so rapidly, so quick to go back on their word. One moment it's "I like you " and "I'll never leave you behind" and the next it's "I don't love you anymore" and "What doesn't matter to you, matters to me" She says and then pauses. There it is again, deja vu.
She stops and muses over the words she just said, reciting them in her head. She thinks so hard about those exact phrases that she feels so deeply in her gut, as if they had broken her heart once before in another life. The back of her head throbs and she feels it there, a sliver of something trying to break free from her subconsciousness. Her eyes flash a crisp blue and a image flashes before her. Boyish, caramel eyes stare back at her, an urging neediness in their depths. And then they're gone.
Malia hasn't moved in minutes and Scott grabs a hold of her shoulders and cups her face between his hands.
"Lia' what's wrong. Are you okay?" He asks concerned, running his fingers through the sloppy braid that hands loosely on her neck, barely reaching past her collarbone.
"It's okay- I'm okay. That was weird... I had this feeling like, a memory of someone. But I don't know who?" She says questioningly, rubbing her head in confusion and lets out a sigh. "It's probably the lack of sleep. Nathan was a snorer." She says lightly and chuckles before moving away from the window and putting on her slippers.
"Can I persuade you to go out for some coffee and donuts at the cafe down the road? My treat." Scott suggests, hitting her with his big, puppy dog eyes that easily make her swoon, but she tries to cover her smile behind the sleeve of his over-sized shirt.
"I think I could be tempted." She replies with a charming smile.
That is something that Scott has come to notice about her. Malia has a bunch of different smiles. She has her lazy smile where her cheeks relax and small crinkles nest in corners of her sleepy eyes that have a smile of their own. Then there's her seductive smile. That's the one she usually reserves for getting what she wants, whether that be a favor or just a quick lay to put off the jittery feeling in her fingers until that itch can be calmed by a cigarette. There's the pageant smile. The one she puts on for her father and strangers. The very same one that she's tried on him once or twice until she realized that he could see right through her. That smile was too animated, too rehearsed, and it never reached her eyes. And lastly was her natural smile. Her endless brown eyes drink in every inch of whoever she is looking at and the softness of her lips eases into it's familiar place, creating a cute little dimple to form on the left side of her cheek. That's his favorite one and he's learning to decipher between them as she lets him in more in more without realizing it.
Kira had been what stopped him from pursuing Malia earlier, and something else. Scott couldn't quite put his finger on it. But something lingered in his heart... A feeling, a sense of loyalty, a fear of betrayal. He wasn't quite sure why he felt this way... Why he always felt this way. Something always held him back. Little did he know that it wasn't something, but someone.
