Still ▸ Teen Wolf [Book Two]

forty six ; fragile ghosts

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FORTY SIX;

FRAGILE GHOSTS

The sound of an incessant ringing had echoed throughout the bedroom, bouncing off walls and landing directly into the ears of the blonde that was laying in her bed. Over the course of the past few weeks, it seemed like a phone call was a declaration of something horrible having happened, which is exactly why Sage Connelly was hesitant to lift her head from her pillow to pick up the phone. The idea of hearing about more issues residing around the town had her believing she was experiencing a panic attack every second of ever day, and she couldn't live with that fear. That alone, she believed, had been a good enough reason to want to ignore the phone call and shove herself further into her comfortable bed.

To her displeasure, after having done exactly what she said she would do, the ringing never ceased. Rather, it just got more frantic and that was when she realized sleep would never be as important as the supernatural. A groan fell from her mouth, enough for her grumble under her breath as she grabbed a hold of her iPhone, sliding her thumb to the right to accept the call with her face still in her pillow.

"Hello?" she asked, eyes half-closed as she tried not to fall asleep on the person.

"Sage. Sage, it's Scott. Something's wrong with Stiles," the teenage boy rushed out, the terror in his voice enough for the blonde to go from drowsy to alert in a matter of seconds, her elbow holding her up as her face lifted from the pillow. "He called me five minutes ago saying he doesn't know where he is, and I don't know what to do."

A wave of pure panic flashed through the blonde, enough for her to believe for a moment that she was going to throw up as her mind had trouble wiring all of what her friend just said to her. Just the idea of something being wrong with Stiles had her pushing herself off the bed, eyes wide open as she quickly manuevered herself around the corner of the bed and all the random articles of clothing sprawled on her floor. Her actions were frantic, from trying to find a pair of jeans to stumbling over her backpack.

Just as she found a pair of pants in the haphazard obects, she found herself rushing out the next words. "What do you mean, "he doesn't know where he is." How in the hell can he not know where he is?"

"He thinks he might have been sleepwalking. I don't know, Sage," Scott all but spluttered, clearly under a lot of stress as she heard another voice in the background that belonged to Isaac Lahey. "He just kept saying that it smelled bad, and that it was cold. He told me that there was something wrong with his foot, that it was bleeding. Is your foot hurting?"

Sage shook her head despite knowing he couldn't see her, glancing down at her bare legs and pale foot, realizing that the only thing she felt was the numbness after having been asleep. "No, I don't feel anything."

That was when she understood not feeling anything was one of the worst things that could have fell from her mouth in this situation. For once in her life, not feeling anything meant that there was something going on with that link Stiles had to Scott, the pack, and that, if he truly was hurt, then there was absolutely no way for her to know how bad it was. If she did feel the injury he supposedly had, then she would be able to tell the others if it was life threatening to the boy. If all of this was actually happening, and if Stiles was actually missing, then she was left useless.

And, then, there was the second possibility of why she didn't feel anything, and she refused to even think about it. Death cuts the connection between an altor and a pack, which meant that if something, or someone, got to Stiles then it would just be a numbness in her body like she was currently feeling. Sage actually had to consider the possibility of the boy that she gave her heart to a year ago was dead, and that had been enough for her to grab a hold of her dresser to stable herself before she fell to the ground.