Just as a reminder to all of those who are reading: When the text is written in bold and italicized lettering "like this," that is the part of the conversation had in sign language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf. I also have no claim on any pop culture references that I may use throughout my writings. I only own my OCs. Enjoy the read.

(o.o)

Chapter 2.03

After school, Stiles went through with his promise to me to go see Doctor Deaton. He drove us over and we went inside. In the waiting room when we arrived, Stiles explained his dreams from the previous night as well as the weird vision he had during Econ. It surprised me that he was dreaming of people signing at him. The way he described it made it seem like a nightmare. It worried me a little bit, but I couldn't find the particular reason why.

"It sounds like your subconscious is trying to communicate with you." Doctor Deaton explained.

"Well, how do I tell my subconscious to use a language I'm fluent in?" Stiles questioned.

"Well, what were they saying?" I asked.

Stiles looked down at me with his brow furrowed, suddenly understanding why I was asking. "Holy shit. I'm a dumbass. Guys. My girlfriend knows sign language."

I glanced between Scott and Deaton, my face hot with a deep blush. He'd said girlfriend and I was sure that he actually realized it.

Stiles faced me squarely so that I could watch the signs that he made. The first was him touching his pointer fingers together before circling the top around the bottom.

"When."

He then placed his palms flat out towards me, moving one against the other. "There was that twice," Stiles explained.

"Door?"

"And then not." Stiles said, making an 'a' with his hand and flicking his thumb against his chin. "That was between the doors."

I repeated the signs back to him in the order he said they had happened in his dream.

Stiles nodded.

"When is a door not a door," I told him.

Stiles narrowed his eyes in confusion. "When is a door not a door?"

"When it's ajar," Scott answered.

Stiles scoffed. "You're kidding me. A riddle? My subconscious wants to tell me a riddle?"

"Not necessarily…" Deaton started. "When the three of you went under the water, when you crossed from consciousness to a kind of superconsciousness, you essentially opened a door in your minds."

"So what does that mean?" Scott asked. "The door's still open?"

"Ajar." I corrected him. "Stiles, your dream from the other night. You said the door was open."

"A door into our minds?"

Deaton shrugged. "I did tell you it was risky."

"What do we do about it?" Scott wondered.

"Well, that's difficult to answer."

Stiles shook his head, unsatisfied with his doctoral way of answering, and I didn't blame him. His sanity was at stake "Oh, no! Wait a second, I know that look. That's the 'we know exactly what's wrong with you, but we have no idea how to fix it' look."

"One thing I do know is that having an opening like that into your mind? It's not good. You each need to close that door, and you need to do it as soon as possible."

"And you have no way or idea of how to do that?" I asked.

Deaton shook his head.

I sighed, looking over at Stiles. He looked like he might explode. I know he wanted this thing fixed. He was frustrated with not reading or sleeping. We left shortly after that, having reached a dead end. At the same time, a sheriff's car pulled up and Stiles' dad hopped out. I furrowed my brow, looking to Stiles.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" He asked.

"I'm here because I could use some help." The sheriff said before looking at Scott. "Actually your help."

"Why me?" Scott asked.

"Because eight years ago, almost an entire family died in a car accident. One of the bodies, a young girl, named Malia, was never found. There's enough evidence to have me thinking that a werewolf could have caused the accident and dragged her body away. If you could somehow get a lock on her scent, if you could somehow help me find her body, it might provide the missing clue."

"But what if it was a werewolf?" Stiles questioned his father.

"Well, there's somebody out there that murdered an entire family - someone who still needs to be caught."

Scott nodded. "Okay."

(o.o)

The next morning I woke after a restless night. I'd been so worried about Stiles and how to even remotely get the opened door in his mind closed. How did you close a metaphoric door in your head?

That day he was taking off of school so that he could help his dad. He and Scott were going to Mr. Tate's (Malia's father) house to see if he could get the scent of the missing girl. I was hopeful, but I knew that if my brother and Derek couldn't find her shortly after she went missing, there was little possibility that Scott would after eight years.

My personal problem with that situation was that with Stiles being with his father, I didn't have a ride to school and I had to drive myself. Complaining about it made me feel a little silly. Maybe it was more about not spending time with Stiles. Maybe it was about we still hadn't talked about the word we hadn't talked about yet. And didn't get a chance to after he said it. Yeah. It was probably that.

I sighed and got myself up for school, not bothering to put any effort in after my shower. I'd trudge through the day by myself anyway. When I went downstairs, I saw that my mother was in the living room surrounded by plastic bags filled with clothes from different stores in the mall. I paused at the bottom of the steps, watching as she dug through a few of them, looking for something.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, startling her.

Mother turned around quickly. I could tell from her initial look that she hated that I was wearing sweatpants and one of Carter's Johns Hopkins t-shirts. She nearly sneered at the sight of my hair in a bun on the top of my head.

I raised an eyebrow, daring her to complain about it.

My mom straightened herself. "Your father thought that it would be a good idea to come by and spend some time with you." She said, signing.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "And he told you this when?"

"The other day. We talked about it."

"And you just happened to schedule this weird, unbelievable playdate of yours on a day where you know he's in meetings all morning and unavailable to reach? You know, like every Thursday?"

"It gets you out of school." Mom said, hopeful.

I rolled my eyes, heading for the door. "I'd rather go to school."

My mother stopped me, blocking my way. "This was his idea."

I paused, pursing my lips. I didn't want to admit defeat, but if it was my father's idea, I wouldn't be able to find out until he came home for lunch. Four hours of dealing with my mother. But for him, I'd do it.

Plus, she was right. It did get me out of school.

(o.o)

My mother spent the entire morning forcing me to wear different dresses that I despised. She never quite understood why I grew out of dresses so quickly. A lot of things changed so quickly. I may wear dresses again, but it wouldn't be for her. It would be for me. It was a wonder she was able to pay for it all considering she didn't have a job. She must've still been using the credit card she had with my father.

Stiles had texted me shortly before lunch to tell me that they had reached a dead-end at the Tate House. Scott hadn't been able to find a scent. Stiles had made the decision to go back home and skip the rest of the day to try and catch up on some sleep.

It had honestly felt like the entire day had passed before my father walked through the front door. I sighed in relief at the sight of him.

My dad left his briefcase in the small foyer and signed to me, spotting my mother first. "How's this going?"

I shrugged at him, looking at my mother. I shook my head at her, making my way towards my father. "Why is she here?"I asked him, hiding my signs from my mom.

Dad furrowed his brow at me. "She's here for you, isn't she?"

"For me?" I questioned out loud. "She said she was here for you. That it was your idea that we hung out."

Dad sighed, realizing along with me that there was a very large miscommunication that went by the name of Christina Parker.

I turned around and shrugged at her. "Did you really think you'd be able to lie to the both of us? That we wouldn't talk about this?"

My mother looked very guilty and for only a second I felt bad for her. "By the time you two would have talked about it, we'd already spent hours together. I just thought that we could be normal."

"Normal?" I asked, my eyes widening. "I am normal. I've had a normal, teenage life, without you, for about a month now." I quickly left the room, making my way upstairs, not being able to hold myself in these walls. I quickly shredded the dress and changed back into my sweatpants and Carter's t-shirt. I grabbed an empty backpack and filled it with Carter's laptop, my toothbrush, hairbrush, and a change of clothes. Pairing it with my school bag, I made my way back downstairs, bypassing my mother and standing in front of my father, his face red with anger. They were arguing.

"Daddy, I'm sorry. But I really can't do this right now." I said, breathing as I felt my stress level lower by being honest with him.

Dad shook his head. "Don't be sorry."

I showed him a one-sided smile. "I'm going to Stiles' house. That okay?"

"Staying the night?" He asked, eyeing the second bag I was carrying.

I shrugged. "If that's alright with you."

Dad looked at me and then up to my mother behind me. I followed his gaze.

"Are you really going to let her sleep at some random boy's house?" My mother asked him.

I rolled my eyes, looking back at my dad.

My father trusted me and he knew that he could trust me to make the right decisions for myself. He leaned down, kissing my forehead. "Don't stay up too late. I want you back at school tomorrow."

I hugged him, not bothering to see what my mother had to say about it. "Thanks, Dad." Without another word, I left my house, choosing to walk to Stiles'. In anticipation of seeing Stiles, I pulled my ponytail holder from my hair, it falling around my shoulders in waves. I knocked on the door when I got there and Stiles stood behind it after a moment.

"Hey," he said, surprised to see me.

I smiled at him. "Are you up for a sleepover?"

"Uh, what?"

"A sleepover," I repeated. "You know, where someone spends the night at someone else's house. They stay up all night eating pizza and playing video games?"

Uh, well, I know what it is, but with you?"

I shrugged. "Yes, with me. Unless you want me to go back home?"

"No!" He said, quickly letting me get by him and into the house.

I let myself relax once inside the Stilinski House and made my way up to his room, dropping both of my bags by the door and rushing towards his bed, diving right in. I sighed, instantly calmed by the smell of him encompassing his pillow. I felt a dip in the bed and looked to see him sitting next to me.

"What happened today?" Stiles asked.

"My mother showed up," I said with a fake smile, turning over onto my back, leaning against the headboard. "She'd been dressing me all morning under the false pretense that it was my father's idea that we spend time together."

"It wasn't." He said, figuring out my frustration.

"Nope. And I didn't want to be there while they fought so I told my dad I was coming here and sleeping over."

Stiles nodded.

"Why can't she just believe me when I say things? Why can't she just be there for me? This is her hometown. This is where she grew up. And she's gonna sit there and tell me she's never noticed anything weird?"

Stiles shrugged. "We didn't. Not until Scott got bit."

"Sure, but we're just kids. I mean, other than you snooping in on your dad's calls would you really have known about half the shit that goes on in this stupid town?"

"I guess not."

I groaned, realizing what I was doing. "I'm sorry. I'm not yelling at you. I'm just so friggin' angry. She comes in thinking she can run the show. It's no wonder Carter kept his secret."

Stiles put his hand on top of mine, showing his support. He waited for a beat to make sure I wasn't going to continue my rant before he spoke. "So, you mentioned pizza?"

I groaned with delight. "Urgh, yes. I'm starving," I said, reaching for my phone to take the order.

(o.o)

Stiles had spent the whole day to ourselves. I bought three different kinds of pizza so that we had something to munch on all night as well as a couple of bottles of soda. We played video games and practiced more ASL. After getting bored with that, I noticed his chessboard.

"You play chess?" I asked him, moving closer to the board.

Stiles nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Dad and I used to play all the time."

I studied the board, seeing names I recognized on sticky notes. I furrowed my brow. "What's with the labels?"

"Oh, that's how I tried teaching my dad about the supernatural. A few months ago, before things got really bad, things were bad enough that we finally had to try and tell him."

"With chess?"

"Well, it's the thing that he understands." Stiles shrugged. "He didn't believe me though. And then Cora collapsed because of Aiden hitting her and I didn't get a chance to try and explain more before he was kidnapped."

"Wow."

Stiles nodded. "Do you play?"

"Uh, no. Actually. Carter was going to teach me. But then I got sick and things got hectic for a while. Never got the chance." I shared.

"I could teach you." Stiles insisted, grabbing his desk chair and pulling it over.

I hesitated but took the seat anyway. I watched him exit the room and come back with another chair for himself. It was a slow process, but I was picking up on it. Still, I felt like I was not making the right moves. Every turn I got, I would hover my fingers over the piece and look up at Stiles. His face was easy to read, telling me whether or not that was the piece I was supposed to be moving it. It turned out I was really awful at chess.

I eyed him and the board curiously, wondering if I should bring up what was really on my mind. I hovered over one piece from my side and thought.

Stiles waved his hand, gaining my attention. "Are you sure about that one?" He asked, signing the words.

I dropped my hand, sitting back in my chair, finally having enough of the stress of the imaginary conversation going on in my head. "You said girlfriend," I told him, my eyes bouncing back and forth between him and the chessboard. "Yesterday at the clinic."

"I did?" He asked, before quickly remembering. His eyes widened with shock. "I did!"

I nodded. "We just - " I got up from my spot in his desk chair and began to pace the room slowly in the space between the chess set up and his bed. "We hadn't talked about it before you said it. And I wondered, you know if that's what we were. To each other. And I've been going over and over in my head, trying to find the right way to bring it up because in my head I'm hearing the worst parts of what could happen with this conversation." I stopped, facing him, waiting for a response.

He got up, standing in front of me, but a few steps away. Stiles put his hands on the tops of my arms, instantly calming the terrible thoughts. "Do you want to be? My girlfriend?" he asked.

"I think so." I said, "I - I mean, yes." I finished quickly noticing his questioning stare. "I really like you, Stiles. I like spending time with you. And I like that you make you feel safe, and not at all nervous about who I am. Between what I can do and what I can't," I pulled on my ear nervously, "that's a really hard line to teeter."

"You shouldn't let any of that stop you from anything. You may not notice it, but you don't let it stop you. You realize that you were willing to go up against an evil Darach to help us find our parents?"

I shrugged, lowering my stare to hide my face as it turned red.

Stiles put a finger under my chin, tilting my head back up. "Ceej, you're amazing."

The corner of my lips moved upwards in a small smile. It felt like my stomach was in my throat with how I was feeling at the moment. I pushed up on my toes, bringing my lips up to his, kissing him deeply.

One of Stiles' hands found its way to my waist, the other was currently moving its way into my hair. The tips of his fingers buried their way into my skin, putting pressure on spots that would normally have made me squeal from being tickled. But at the moment, it was a perfect feeling.

I brought one of my hands up to his neck and the other clenched the side of his shirt, balling it up in my fist. I stepped forward, closer to him, continuing to move my lips against his. I felt the movement in his throat and hoped that the sounds were of pleasure. He didn't seem to stop kissing me so I assumed they were. Stiles took a step closer to me, pushing me backward. Eventually, the back of my knees hit his bed and I fell back onto it, losing my balance.

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry." Stiles said, almost losing his mind.

I shook my head quickly, pulling him by his shirt collar down with me.

"Oh, okay, we're still doing this." he joked, immediately joining his lips back to mine. Stiles hovered over top of me, his main focus being attended to. He was gentle with his kisses, and I had no complaints.

I opened my eyes for a moment catching a shadow in the doorway. I furrowed my brow, quickly pulling away from Stiles.

"What? What's wrong? Too much?"

"Scott?" I asked aloud, not being able to tell in the darkness of the room.

"Scott?" Stiles repeated, turning his head. He quickly twisted off of me, landing into a seated position on the bed next to me.

Scott had a wide grin on his face as he stepped into the small light coming from Stiles' desk lamp. "Dude, I'm so sorry."

I laughed it off, "What's going on, Scotty?"

"How do you feel about going to find a body? A dead body." He said, holding a flashlight in his hands.

"Malia?"

Scott nodded, looking at Stiles.

Stiles grabbed my hand, making me turn my head. I laughed to myself at the pillow positioned on his lap. "How about it? You up for an adventure?"

"Absolutely." I agreed.

Stiles got out of bed and went to his closet. He passed me one of his hoodies and I shrugged it on over Carter's shirt.

We had to find Malia. I remembered when my brother came home after not being able to find her. He thought that he would be able to find her and when he didn't, he struggled a bit. Well, maybe we could do better.