Stiles Stilinski | Teen WolfalotofadderallSeptember 25 2012, 23:00:10 UTC
[Stiles' head hurt.
Running. Blinding pain. Darkness. No, the darkness came before. Running in the dark. Blinding pain. More darkness. Why was he running? Lacrosse? No, he never plays lacrosse. And they have stadium lights. Why was he running? Danger. Pain. Dark.
But it wasn't so dark anymore; there was light behind his eyelids. Still pain, in his temple, but not as bad as before...he'd been knocked out. Running from danger, knocked out. This wasn't shaping up well at all.
Stiles cracks open one eye, pupils dilating to accomodate the sudden light. Something's touching him. No, someone. He's on a bed...and it's not his.
Oh this was not good at all.
Well, then again it might be. Maybe he got drunk and lucky at the same time. Stiles tries to focus on the figure holding him...
The man has to be at least 23, which makes this completely illegal...and judging from the way their legs are tangled Stiles is definitely banking on illegal.
Oh God, he's been kidnapped. That would explain the running. The pain. FuckHe tries not to move. He
( ... )
[The horrified look drives Sam back with all the force of a physical blow. He shuts his eyes, he doesn’t want Stiles to see how much it hurts. Sam needs to move, to back away and wrap himself in a warmer memory of Stiles. Anchor himself in that.] There are others. The pack started to come together after Peter, after a treaty with the hunters. The wolves live in peace, the hunters don’t go after them. It’s Derek’s responsibility to monitor the pack, keep it together. Scott’ll be here soon. Once he gets here you can go with him, get checked out.
[His chest feels tight, like he can barely breathe. Damnit where is Derek? He needs someone else here to keep him grounded.] I won’t bother you.. after this. If you don’t remember me, then I’ll leave you alone. I promise.
Hey... [Stiles jumps when Sam does, watching as he closes his eyes, obviously upset. Is he fighting for control? Sam can't hurt him if Stiles is his anchor, right? Regardless, Sam is describing a paradise world...Stiles wants to believe him.]
No, I...sorry. It's fine. [Stiles sets the knife down slowly, then the shaving cream. He doesn't have any recollection of the man standing before him but if Stiles really is his anchor...well he can't stand by and not try to help him. He just can't.]
It's okay. Just...calm down. [Stiles bites his lip, pausing a second before he takes a step forward, then another, and another, when Sam doesn't shift. Lowering Scott's heartrate works, Stiles knows, but how exactly does Allison calm him down?]
...Listen to my heartbeat, Sam. [Stiles tries to combine the two theories, reaching out to offer Sam his hand. He's shaking a little - tired, hurting, and scared - but he wants to help Sam anyway.]
[Sam is so focused inward that it takes him a moment to realize that Stiles' voice has shifted, that he's moving closer to him. It helps that he's calming down, that his voice is less strained with upset and mistrust and general panic. His hand slides automatically into his. Still a perfect fit.
[Focus. He can hear his heartbeat. The same, familiar rhythm, the same heartbeat that he's fallen asleep to. Steady, familiar, comforting.
[The threat of the change starts to recede and his eyes open. He loves him. Even if Stiles doesn't remember.] I'm okay.
Thanks. [Sam isn't quite ready to let go of his hand either, hoping that maybe, just maybe, it'll jar a memory. Help him recall what they are to each other.]
[Their hands fit perfectly together, and Stiles isn't entirely sure what to do with that...oddly enough, it felt right...and that was a little bit startling to the teen, but he thought he took it in stride.]
Sure. [Stiles falls silent, letting Sam keep his hand. It's helping to reassure him that he made the right decision in setting down the knife.] Is there anything else you need me to do?
[What he needs is for him to remember. But this.. this was enough. His change was back under control and Stiles had put the knife down.] No. I'm good. Thanks.
Maybe Scott will be able to help you remember. [He nods at the picture on the bookshelf.] Or Bobby. You two have been exchanging emails for awhile about wolves. Bobby's the one with the hat. The other one is my brother Dean.
Maybe that's a start. Your memory might come back.
[And if it doesn't? Well.. he'll find some place quiet to come apart. Maybe back in Sioux Falls. For now, Sam tries to tamp down on his worry and his upset and focus on Stiles. At least he's calm and seems sure that he's not there to hurt him.]
Come on. Grab a seat on the couch, I'll make you something to drink. We'll find some way to figure it out. [Even if he has to call Castiel. He is not losing the one bright point in his life. Not like this.]
[Sam emerges from the kitchen, catching the unsure glance around.] You've been over a lot lately, if something seems familiar. [And hey, he can hope, right?] Bobby brought a new stash of books over, you were going through them last night.
[Until he'd decided to bag research in favor of straddling Sam's lap and kissing him breathless. That pretty much put the brakes on anything work-related for the remainder of the evening. Which he was more than all right with.]
[Stiles tucks his legs underneath him, biting his lip with a troubled expression. He wraps his arms around his torso, curling into the arm of the sofa. Everything about the room was alien, but with an eerie, niggling feeling of familiarity.] Books?
[Stiles pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. Awesome. It's not surprising, after such a hard hit. He hesitates, almost asks if Sam has any painkillers, before he remembers he's not taking any drugs from Sam...even if he thinks he believes him. Can't be too careful these days.]
Running. Blinding pain. Darkness. No, the darkness came before. Running in the dark. Blinding pain. More darkness. Why was he running? Lacrosse? No, he never plays lacrosse. And they have stadium lights. Why was he running? Danger. Pain. Dark.
But it wasn't so dark anymore; there was light behind his eyelids. Still pain, in his temple, but not as bad as before...he'd been knocked out. Running from danger, knocked out. This wasn't shaping up well at all.
Stiles cracks open one eye, pupils dilating to accomodate the sudden light. Something's touching him. No, someone. He's on a bed...and it's not his.
Oh this was not good at all.
Well, then again it might be. Maybe he got drunk and lucky at the same time. Stiles tries to focus on the figure holding him...
The man has to be at least 23, which makes this completely illegal...and judging from the way their legs are tangled Stiles is definitely banking on illegal.
Oh God, he's been kidnapped. That would explain the running. The pain. FuckHe tries not to move. He ( ... )
Reply
[His chest feels tight, like he can barely breathe. Damnit where is Derek? He needs someone else here to keep him grounded.] I won’t bother you.. after this. If you don’t remember me, then I’ll leave you alone. I promise.
Reply
No, I...sorry. It's fine. [Stiles sets the knife down slowly, then the shaving cream. He doesn't have any recollection of the man standing before him but if Stiles really is his anchor...well he can't stand by and not try to help him. He just can't.]
It's okay. Just...calm down. [Stiles bites his lip, pausing a second before he takes a step forward, then another, and another, when Sam doesn't shift. Lowering Scott's heartrate works, Stiles knows, but how exactly does Allison calm him down?]
...Listen to my heartbeat, Sam. [Stiles tries to combine the two theories, reaching out to offer Sam his hand. He's shaking a little - tired, hurting, and scared - but he wants to help Sam anyway.]
Reply
[Focus. He can hear his heartbeat. The same, familiar rhythm, the same heartbeat that he's fallen asleep to. Steady, familiar, comforting.
[The threat of the change starts to recede and his eyes open. He loves him. Even if Stiles doesn't remember.] I'm okay.
Thanks. [Sam isn't quite ready to let go of his hand either, hoping that maybe, just maybe, it'll jar a memory. Help him recall what they are to each other.]
Reply
Sure. [Stiles falls silent, letting Sam keep his hand. It's helping to reassure him that he made the right decision in setting down the knife.] Is there anything else you need me to do?
Reply
Maybe Scott will be able to help you remember. [He nods at the picture on the bookshelf.] Or Bobby. You two have been exchanging emails for awhile about wolves. Bobby's the one with the hat. The other one is my brother Dean.
Reply
You feel familiar though...
Reply
[And if it doesn't? Well.. he'll find some place quiet to come apart. Maybe back in Sioux Falls. For now, Sam tries to tamp down on his worry and his upset and focus on Stiles. At least he's calm and seems sure that he's not there to hurt him.]
Reply
Reply
Reply
How about this one?
[Stiles blinks, confused, and ignores the words echoing around in his head. Weird.
He nods and moves to go sit down on the couch, hesitantly looking around like he knows he's misplaced something. That's what it feels like, too.]
Reply
[Until he'd decided to bag research in favor of straddling Sam's lap and kissing him breathless. That pretty much put the brakes on anything work-related for the remainder of the evening. Which he was more than all right with.]
Reply
[Stiles pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. Awesome. It's not surprising, after such a hard hit. He hesitates, almost asks if Sam has any painkillers, before he remembers he's not taking any drugs from Sam...even if he thinks he believes him. Can't be too careful these days.]
Reply
Leave a comment