Shatter My Reality

Figure

Stiles' fingers rapped on the steering wheel as he waited for the red light to change. His eyes followed the pedestrians making their way towards the open field, where the Beacon Hills summer carnival took place every year. Stiles recalled his father working security many nights when he was young. He had spent hours riding the Ferris wheel and throwing darts at balloons. Scott would join when Melissa had to work late at the hospital.

He was yanked from the fond memory as a figure walked through the large entryway arch made of too many balloons. The figure looked too much like himself.

He blinked but the figure didn't disappear. He leaned forward as if to get a better look, but the entrance was a good sixty feet away.

The figure was looking around as if fascinated by their surroundings. Stiles leaned even further forward as they turned. His heart pounded in his chest. That looked exactly like him.

A honk from the car behind him jolted him back in his seat; the light in front of him now green.

He pressed the gas too hard, causing the engine to roar in protest. Turning the wheel without warning; he pulled into the lot designated as 'Carnival Parking'. He found an empty spot and whipped the jeep into place. He threw it in park and barely had the engine off before he was out of his seat. He bolted across the lot towards the entrance, his feet tripping up on the loose gravel, but he didn't slow.

He reached the entrance and scanned. His heart was racing, and his chest heaved as he attempted to catch his breath.

A man in green and pink platform shoes, dressed in clown makeup approached Stiles. "Hello and welcome to this year's Beacon Hills Summer Carnival, we have game and treats galore. I have a brochure if you should find yourself lost—"

"Have you seen me?" Stiles blurted. "I mean, someone that looks like me?" he corrected.

The man's fake, bushy brows rose. "I'm afraid not."

"Thanks." Stiles ignored the outstretched hand holding the brochure, and continued further into the carnival. His eyes scanned the balloon darts and the Ferris wheel line. Nothing. He grabbed another individual dressed in a giant cotton candy costume.

"Have you seen anyone that looks like me? Like exactly like me?"

"No, sorry." The woman's voice answered apologetically. and seeing things. Or maybe it was something much worse. He couldn't take that chance.

He maneuvered through the crowd, asking people he passed, if they'd seen someone who looked like him.

No one had seen what Stiles had.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, sweat sliding down his temple.

He held his hands out in front of him.

"One, two, three, four, five. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten," he whispered to himself, counting each finger. He looked at the nearby sign advertising funnel cakes. Every word clear as the darkening sky above him.

"I'm awake," he whispered again. He had to be tired.

The shrill sound of his phone startled him. He frantically fished the device from his pocket. His hands shook as he held it up to see Scott calling him.

"Shit," he swore when he saw the time in the top corner. He was late for the pack meeting.

He debated answering but the sound of screeching kids and drunk adults would give away where he was. He ignored the call, shoving it back into his pocket. Even if Scott didn't ask where he was, based on his surroundings; he would ask why Stiles was out of breath and frantic.

He pushed back through the crowd, his eyes still scanning as he went.

When he reached the jeep, he leaned his head on the steering wheel and took a deep breath.

He hadn't been sleeping well. Perhaps it was just exhaustion. It had been several months since they killed the nogitsune, surely what he'd seen wasn't him.

Doubt clawed at the back of Stiles' head. What if they hadn't killed him? What if he'd been laying low, biding time?

Stiles shook his head. That was ridiculous, it wouldn't do that. It would kill and torment with no remorse.

Then what had he seen?

Nothing. It was just his mind playing tricks on him. He was still pulling himself together after everything. He was sleep deprived and traumatized, that was all.

Stiles cranked the a.c. before pulling out of the parking lot. He needed to cool off.

-

By the time Stiles reached Derek's loft, he'd calmed down. His heart wasn't racing as fast, and he'd cooled himself to the point where he was no longer sweating.

He took one last deep breath before pushing open the loft door.

"Hey, guys, sorry I'm late, got sidetracked." He beelined for the fridge, grabbing a cold water. That wasn't a lie. But it was vague enough not to arise any suspicion.

"I called you." Scott frowned.

"Oh sorry," Stiles apologized, careful not to say anything that would out the fact that he'd ignored it.

"Just glad you're okay. You're never late." Scott gestured for Stiles to take his seat at the pack table next to him.

Stiles took his seat, tipping back the water. It was cold against his throat, but it was welcome.

The pack seemed to be unbothered by his absence. All except Derek, who was looking at Stiles with narrowed eyes.

"Scott's right, you're never late," Derek agreed.

"Then I think that gives me a pass this one time." Stiles waved a hand. "Besides, how many times has Isaac been late?"

"I kept forgetting to turn the time forward on my alarm," Isaac objected defensively.

"Can we get back to the problem at hand please?" Lydia huffed, her arms crossing over her chest.

"Problem? What problem?" Stiles turned to the redhead, ignoring Derek's incessant glare in his direction.

"Lydia spaced out earlier while we were teaching Malia how to drive and she just... started screaming," Kira answered, glancing at the redhead.

"I nearly wrecked," Malia huffed.

"How's that different from any other time?" Isaac asked with a shrug.

Malia growled, her eyes turning ice blue.

"I'm kidding." Isaac held his hands up as he leaned away from the table.

"Can we focus?" Lydia snapped, her hands smacked against the top of the table.

"You only scream like that when someone is gonna die, do you know who?" Scott asked.

"I'm still figuring this out. I don't know how it works but—"

"Hey, it's okay." Kira placed a hand on Lydia's arm.

Lydia pursed her lips and swallowed as her eyes fell to Stiles.

*AN*
Welcome to my newest Sterek story! Hope you like it!