Changing Patterns

• 6 •

"Talking" 'Thinking...
Important
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Sunday morning, 5:25 A.M, stiles stood in the bathroom looking over himself in the mirror. Looking over his arm actually, the deep puncture marks that seemed to have stopped bleeding and began to scab. Stiles pressed lightly on one of the dark dots. A heavy wince parts Stiles lips and grits his teeth. Lowering his hand and letting it slap down on the cold bathroom counter his eyes fall shut.

A long night of terrors, silence, and restlessness. God he hates silence, he hates being alone. Always alone, it reminds him of his time with the nogitsune. Reminds him of the pain he caused. Stiles takes a sharp breath in and shudders it out with a sigh. Eyes slowly opening and blinking to try and rid them of their dry feeling. Another sigh as his stomach growls and his mind falls over the fact that he'd stopped eating again. "Shit." Stiles mutters to himself.

He does it without thinking. It's almost like a numbness to the hunger. He'd eat and feel full, and then his mind doesn't register being hungry again. It could take a single piece of toast or a whole buffet. Whatever the case the last meal he had was spaghetti, Wednesday. Stiles rolled his head back over his shoulder, trying to loosen the pinched nerve at the back; no change. Quickly he spins around and twists on the water, pulling the curtain closed and rolling his shoulders up and down. A shower was certain to help, the 19 year old spun back.

Pealing off his socks gently only to jump like a rabbit when the he sees the door peak open through the mirror. Instantly spinning around and catching his hands in the edge of the counter, his knuckle going white with grip. The door slides open partly more and this time the human speaks out.

"Hey! I'm in here!" The door opens more suddenly and some- Thing! peers over at him.

His heart slamming in his chest as this flakey skinned, monstrous creature with long claws, and sharp bones that get punctured through skin that seems to have nothing else underneath it. Practically and quite literally a bag of bones. The creatures head cocks over to the side, it's eyes- which are none existent as it has only pits of empty space stare back at the shuddering young man. Instantly Stiles's hands scatter behind him in search for something to help protect him, his hands land on an adjustable mirror, Lydia's mirror.

"Shit- I may fear Lydia but not so much I wouldn't use her stuff to save myself."

The creature croak's a roar, it's almost like a scream of agony. It's boned limbs fly at it's sides as it charges through the short distance. Stiles raises his hands holding the metal and glass mirror, under a moment the items smashes into the creatures temple, it topples to the side, crashing into the shower and sending Stiles's feet bolting for the exit of the bathroom. He makes it to the hallway, turning sharply and crashing his shoulder into the wall, strong and large arms capture Stiles's body, a radiant warmth covering his back and arms as Derek's own cross over his chest.

A loud bellow of pain roars into Stiles's ears the human winced and is tossed to the side in an instant. Derek's back bleeds rapidly as he spins and grips his hand around the boney neck. The creature screams again, it's voice shattering in what silence there was. Doors swing open and clatter with pack members bolting down the hall. Stiles slumps back staring at the growling creature in Derek's clutch, it's boned fingers that seem almost like claws raking over his arm and leaving thin cuts. Derek shuffled back a step, his lose hand waving to the side at stiles, he scrambled up in time as Derek spins and slams the creature into the wall.