A Fox from Beacon Hills

chapter thirteen

I awaken the next morning feeling like i was hit by a bus. Which, in a way, is true. Maybe it wasn't a bus, but I was hit by a rather fast moving vehicle. My ribs are screaming at me not to move, and my head aches like the worst hangover. There's a shrill ringing in my right ear, and my left leg has swollen. I groan as I pull of the prosthetic and sleeve as gently as possible. Today is a crutch day, that much is obvious. Luckily, my foot was left pretty much intact, but the trauma inflicted on the rest of me has sent my body into overdrive trying to heal the rest of me, and it doesn't have time to worry about the limb I lost years ago.

Reaching across the side of the bed for the forearm crutches I keep for emergencies, I slide my arms in and and pull myself off the ground, stumbling slightly as I attempt to stabilize myself on a limb that no longer exists. My ear still rings as I maneuver my way to my dresser and pull the top drawer, shuffling through it until I find the compression bandages. I haven't needed to use these in years, but as I sit to wrap my stump, the movements come naturally. As I finish wrapping it, a shadow falls over my doorway and I look up to see my dad standing there, an annoyed expression on his face that falls off as he sees what I'm doing. Concern instantly fills his face as he moves to sign.

"You okay? What happened?"

I shrug, gently rubbing the bandages.

"Nothing, I think I've just been putting a bit too much pressure on it." He nods, relief washing through his eyes as he continues;

"Okay, well, breakfast is ready if you want any. Stiles already ate and left, so the rest is for us." He turns to leave before grimacing and turning back toward me.

"And for the love of the Gods, please fix you hearing aid! It's been screaming at me since I woke up! Did you forget to take them off again? You know that's not good for them."

My hand flies to my right ear, where the ringing was coming from, before I realize I wouldn't be hearing it from the ear that no longer had the B.T.E attached. I quickly re-attach it, breathing a sigh of relief as my hearing comes back to my left side, and the ringing stops.

After pushing myself up to get breakfast, I make it to the top of the stairs before I realize that's not going to work. I sigh, looking down at my crutches. This is going to be a long day.

                                                                                                      ***

I hobble into the kitchen, thoroughly exhausted. Making my way down the stairs consisted of throwing my crutches down them as gently as I could, yelling at Dad that I was fine, but not being able to warn him about the obstacle before he came to check and tripped over them {insert the Wilhelm scream}, and then hopping my way down one by one so I don't trip.

I sit in my chair at my dad's order, and watch as he carries over two plates of delicous bacon and pancakes. The smell alone making my mouth water. I wolf my way through my first plate, as Dad laughs at my frenzied eating. He brings me a second as he's still halfway through his first. As my stomach continues to rumble, I realize I haven't eaten anything in almost a day.

Right as I finish my second plate, Dad's phone rings. I can tell from the moment he looks at the I.D. that it's not good. My curiosity almost gets the better of me, and I try to ignore it by telling myself 'curiosity killed the cat.' but that doesn't work because I know that the real phrase is: 'curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.' before I can decide whether or not to listen in, he hangs up, his heavy sigh snapping my attention to him.

"I have to go Riri, something's come up." I tilt my head at him, confused.

"But I though it was your day off-" He grabs my plate to put in the sink and kisses my forhead before going to get changed.

"I know, but Haigh found something, and Parrish says it's real, not a prank. I'm gonna need you to pick Stiles up from school today, that jeep of his broke down again. Okay? Okay." He answers for me as I sit there, annoyed at Haigh for yet another reason.

I sit there for who know how long, only speaking to call that I love him back as my dad slams the door shut, wondering what to do know.

I could always try that puzzle Melissa got me for my birthday, two-thousand pieces should take my lng enough to pass the day away.

A/N So last chapter I touched a tiny bit on Ari's trauma and fear of needles {Also, lore drop! If you caught what I'm talking about, let me know your theories, I'd love to hear them!}, but I feel like some people might not understand why she feels so betrayed by Derek when all he did was administer some pain meds. Ari's fear of needles comes from a very hard experience in her childhood, one that Derek knows all about. While he was trying to help, and she knows that, knowing that he also understands how afraid she is of them and still used force to give her the shot instead of talking her through it, hurts. As someone who is afraid of needles but has no trauma related to it, I would still feel hurt if someone forced me to get a shot and for people with that trauma it's even worse.

Imagine you tell your best friend that you had a traumatic experience with -let's say- clowns, and then they jump you in a clown costume. Not nice, right?

Also, trauma isn't something that always makes sense. As I've said, she knows he was trying to help, but the traumatized part of her brain is ignoring that part. Often times when someone has trauma, they can get triggered by anything, even things that others might not think are related to said trauma. But trauma doesn't care about that. It will give you a panic attack when and where it wants. I feel like people might not understand that, so I'm making this author's note to try to explain, but I'm really bad at that.

Anyways, trauma's a bitch, and we don't negotiate with terrorists. {If you get that, I love you.}

Stay safe and healthy! -Rum.

P.S. Does anyone know how betta reading works on here? I kinda think I need one, but I don't know how to do it.