COMPLETED [ B O O K T W O - S E A S O N S 3 A + 3 B ]
Four months since defeating the Kanima, Madison Stilinski had lived a normal summer filled with fun, trying her best not to think about Derek Hale. But when a pack of Alpha's roam to town...
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My eyes snapped open, and I found myself looking up at a ceiling, one I recognise all too well - I'm in my bedroom. All I can hear is laughter coming from the other room, I furrowed my eyebrows as I slowly pulled myself out of my bed, and slowly descended down the hall, the laughter and conversation getting louder every step I took closer to the kitchen.
I slowly walked inside, and saw my dad inside, wearing a shirt and jeans, flipping pancakes on the stove. It must have been morning, but my dad never makes breakfast for us anymore, except when he'd pour cereal in a bowl when we were 8, not since-
And then I saw her. Her smile lighting up the room as she stepped closer to my dad and grabbed onto his shoulders making him laugh as he playfully pushed her off, and she swayed her long brown hair around, dancing around the kitchen happily. This felt different to the times I'd seen her in dreams or visions- this felt real.
"Mom?" My voice trembled as I stepped closer inside, and her eyes met mine. Her big brown eyes. The same as mine. "Mommy?" The tears were now falling as she walked over to me and cradled my face, wiping the tear from my face.
"Madison, honey what's wrong?" She questioned, as if this was normal. As if this was our lives.
"Come on in Madi, the pancakes will be ready soon." My dad smiles over at me.
My mom takes my hand and leads me over to the dining table, and it's unrecognisable. There's a white table cloth, with a vase of yellow chrysanthemum's inside - mom's favourite. The table was set with four plates and utensils. One for me, one for dad, one for mom and one for-
"This smells amazing dad." Stiles grinned as he stepped into the kitchen, walking right over to the plate of finished pancakes and attempting to steal one prematurely. Only my dad hits his hand.
"Stiles go sit at the table like your sister." My dad says and Stiles rolls his eyes before joining us at the table, sitting opposite me.
His face wasn't pale. His under eyes weren't darkened. His hair wasn't messy. Mom wasn't screaming that he wasn't really himself. And he was smiling, genuinely smiling. He was Stiles. Real Stiles. Not the Nogitsune...my brother Stiles.
"This isn't real." I mumbled under my breath.
"No, darling." My mom smiled, looking at me, stroking my hair. "But it could be."
"What are you talking about?" I furrowed my brows.
"Say yes. Let him in, and this can all be real for you and for Stiles. This can be your reality." She smiles brightly at me as I then look back over to my brother, who's jokingly slamming his knife and fork against the table as my dad brings over the pancakes.
This world, whatever the Nogitsune has planted inside me - this was my dream life. My mom alive, my dad and brother happy - everything was perfect. And a year ago I'd have done anything to have this be my reality.
