Yours (Stiles Stilinski)

Chapter Forty Six

I rolled over in the bed, my arm across Stiles' chest. I yawned and looked over at the clock. It was still early, but not early enough where I could fall back asleep comfortably. I groaned and got up to trudge to the bathroom. I showered, and when I was drying my hair, I heard Stiles groaning in his sleep.

"Stiles?" I asked, walking out in my underwear and a t-shirt. "Stiles," I said again, noticing his lips were quivering. I touched his chest. I felt a rush of emotion. He was terrified. My heart began racing, and I took a deep breath. "Wake up," I ordered, my veins glowed light yellow as I tried to make him feel safe. He sat straight up, shouting my name. I wrapped my arms around his head, holding it close to me, and his Dad barged in the door.

"Stiles— It's okay, I'm right here!" I said urgently. Mr. Stilinski rushed over to his son's other side. I closed my eyes, trying to make him feel calm. After a minute or so, he was able to breathe normally. He looked between his father and I with wide eyes, and I brushed a tear off of his cheek. I locked eyes with the Sheriff, and then I realized that I wasn't fully dressed. Mr. Stilinski seemed to realize this too, as he quickly kissed his son on the forehead and left. I looked at Stiles, who was still buried in my chest.

"What happened?" I whispered. His skin was clammy, and I could still feel the fear rolling off of him. I held him for another hour before we got ready for school. I watched him as he got ready, and I handed him a granola bar. He was staring at the cover of a book.

"Are we— do you want to talk about this morning?" I asked hesitantly. He looked back at me for a moment, before putting the book in his bag. Mr. Stilinski leaned his head in the door.

"You alright?" He asked Stiles. Stiles turned to him.

"Yea— yea I'm good," Stiles said quietly. I gave Mr. Stilinski a look, and he looked equally unconvinced.

"Alright— Well, get your butts to school. Don't want you being late," he said half-heartedly. I looked back at Stiles as his dad left. He sighed, throwing his bag over his back.

"Seriously, I'm fine— It was just a nightmare," Stiles said. Deaton's words about the effects of the Nemeton flashed back into my brain, and I gave him a small smile.

"Okay, okay. We'll talk about it later then. For now, shall we go to the place of education?" I asked, trying to shoot for a lighter tone. He took my hand and let out a sigh of relief. I tried to inconspicuously spread some calmness to him, and I could see him visibly relax. I let out a breath and yawned. He looked over at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Tired already?" He asked. I chuckled.

"Always," I murmured.

—

"Y/n, we need to talk, now," Lydia said, taking my arm. Stiles had left to get his stuff ready for his first class. I didn't want to let him go, but I knew I couldn't keep up the calm juju all day. I was already mildly ready for a nap. I nodded.

"Is it happening to Allison too?" I asked. She nodded, and we sat in the stairwell. "I don't even know what to do. Stiles woke up screaming this morning, Lyds. It was awful," I whispered. She patted my back, and I looked over at her.

"We'll find a way to get them through it," she assured. I gave her a sarcastic smile.

"How's it feel to not be the crazy one for once?" I asked. She smacked my arm, and I chuckled.

"It feels pretty darn good, thank you very much!" She said with fake anger. I stood, stretching, and she looked at me seriously. "I know exactly what you're doing, by the way. The doctor told you not to overuse whatever weird emotion thing you have," she lectured. I wave her off.