let me in {1} - stiles stilinski

accidents

I was conflicted. Stiles kissed me at the party. But, he also kissed and went farther with Malia. Maybe he was more intoxicated than the nogitsune led on. Maybe the nogitsune made him go farther. Maybe all of this was made up.

"Hey." Stiles's voice startled me. "Are you okay?" I didn't say anything. "Sit." He lightly grabbed my arm and pulled me, making me sit.

"Fine. Just fine." I say, looking down at the floor.

He sighs. "I didn't want to let him in. I fought"

I look at him. "I know. I felt everything. Once he got you, he started going for me. Since I marked you, he's been with me. Everywhere."

"You're fighting him?" He asks, concerned.

I look straight forward and I freeze, seeing the nogitsune sitting in the chair across from me. I felt the tears pool in my eyes. "He's dying." He says standing.

"Myla? Myla, are you okay?" I felt Stiles touch my shoulder.

"I'll kill you." I say aloud, a few tears fall and go to my cheeks.

"Myla! It's not real. It's not real!" Stiles shouts.

"If I die, you die. Whatever happens to me, happens to you." He whispers walking closer. As he spoke those words, an ache covered my whole body, putting me in pain. Just like Stiles.

"Myla!" Stiles shook me and I look over at him. I quickly look back to see the nogitsune gone. "Did- did you see him?"

I study Stiles's face. He didn't need to worry about me. "What? No." I wipe my face. "There's- there's no one there."

"Then who- who were you talking to?" Stiles winces due to his pain.

I exhale. "No one. Here." I hold out my hand, wanting him to take it which he does. "I learned this in the police station." I squeeze his cold hand. Dark purple veins sprout in my hand and spread through my body, adding to the pain I already had. I study his face, watching his relief. Once the pain got to the point I couldn't contain it, I stop squeezing his hand. "Better?" I smile.

Stiles smiles for the first time in awhile. "A lot better. Why are you cold?"

"He's torturing me and he will kill me if I don't do what he says." I say looking at the floor.

"What does he want?" He asks.

I look at him with tears pooled in my eyes. "To let him in."

"Guys," Scott walks over to us and I wipe my tears. "Meredith is at the school. Lets go."

I follow the boys as they push through the school doors. They stop, searching for anyone they know. Kira appeared through all of the students and we quickly run to her.

"This way." She starts running for the music room where we watch Coach tase Brunski, who I knew was the head orderly at Eichen House. Shocked, we run in, seeing Brunski laying on the floor.

"Well?" Coach starts. "Get here out of here." I lightly grab her arm, running out of the room.

We run outside, piling into Stiles's jeep. Kira goes her own way, leaving us four inside the jeep. Stiles whips his head around. "So, where's Lydia?" He questions.

"Who's Lydia?" She responds. The three of us share a glance, not knowing why we even grabbed her in the first place.

"Okay. Scott's house it is. We'll talk there." Stiles starts his jeep and speeds off. Meredith looks at me, as if she knew something, maybe a secret of mine. I look away, not wanting to look at her anymore.

We walk in the house but I quickly stop, seeing my father while Issac sat next to him. "Dad. What are you doing here?" I ask.

He puts his hands in his pockets. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Free period." I look back at Stiles. "We're doing a group study." I look back to my dad, seeing if he bought it.

"Who's she?" He asks.

Stiles wraps his arm around Meredith and I raise my eyebrows. "She's my girlfriend."

"You're not my type." Meredith says, trying to scoot away and I smirk.

"Well, obviously we have a lot to talk about. We should maybe take it upstairs." Stiles tries to escape.

"He's my type." Meredith motions to Issac.

Stiles mouth opens as he scratches his neck. "Uh, okay. Issac, you can come too. Myla?" The three start to walk upstairs.

"Yeah I'm coming." I start to follow before my dad puts his arm out, preventing me.

"I want to talk to both of you." He says looking at me.

Scott steps forward. "Nows not a good time."

"Scott. I need to talk to you two." He sounded quite serious. He's never cared about me like this in Fresno. He never wanted to really talk to me unless it involved yelling. What changed? We follow him to the living room where Scott sits on the couch.

"Dad, can't we do this tomorrow?" Scott pleaded.

My father stood behind the couch. "That's actually something I've been saying for a long time. Come here." He starts walking towards the steps and Scott stands, following with me right behind. "You see this? This indent in the floor?" He bends down pointing at the indent. "That was from your head Scott. The night before I moved out and took Myla, your mother and I were fighting. Scott, you came out of your room. I pulled you by the wrist. You pulled back, shutting Myla's door. And you fell." He pauses looking up the steps. "We watched you tumble down those steps. You were out for about 20 seconds and when you came to, you didn't remember a thing. Your mom told me to be out by morning. So I took Myla and left. That was the last time I ever had a drink." He look sat both of us. "That's why I left. And that's why you were taken from your brother." I look away and cross my arms, not sure what I should do or say.

Scott stands. "Dad, let me show you something. See the edge of this windowsill? When I got my first skateboard, I slid right into and broke my collarbone. This," Scott points to the coffee table, "this used to be glass until I fell on top of it trying to catch a lacrosse ball from Stiles. I got three stitches in my cheek. This house is full of accidents. The stairs? Maybe it was an accident, maybe it was worse. But I healed. I don't need your apology." Something flickered in Scott. "So, see you at graduation. Or whenever you decide to show up again. But this time? Don't take my sister."