Bare your teeth and I'll bear the burden.

Escapism

A / N
Hihii this is definetly a self indulgent mess, but I hope it's enjoyable enough to read either way.

The morning sunlight seeped through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow that painted delicate patterns across the boy's mole-kissed skin. He let out a groan, lifting a hand to shield his eyes as he pushed the sheets away from his body. It was a morning like any other, for Stiles at least. Wake up in some random motel, prep for the day, and hit the road once more. He got out of the bed, the basketball shorts he'd worn had rode up his legs during his slumber, but they fell back into place as he stood. Reaching for the TV remote, he lazily flicked through channels until he landed on a  Saturday morning cooking show that caught his attention. It showed some random recipe, one that he surely didn't have the ingredients, nor motivation, to try.

He dug his toes into the soft, beige carpet, savouring its texture for a moment before padding over to the window. With a swift motion, he drew the curtains open, instinctively squinting as the bright light flooded the room, momentarily blinding him. Letting out a small sigh and rolling his eyes at his own reaction, he turned away and headed toward the armchair, where a worn duffel bag rested. He rifled through it, searching for something to wear. He hadn't taken anything near all of when he left Beacon Hills, but he'd certainly amassed quite the collection over his year of travelling. He pulled a pair of faded jeans from the duffel bag, along with a random graphic tee that had crumpled beneath them. Tilting his head, he studied the outfit for a moment before giving a small nod of approval. With his clothes in hand, he made his way to the bathroom.

The bathroom was unremarkable, a typical motel setup with everything crammed into a tight space. The sink, shower, and toilet were all within arm's reach, their dull, utilitarian fixtures showing signs of wear. Stiles paused in front of the mirror above the sink, his gaze lingering on his reflection. He studied his pale, pasty skin, as if searching for something beneath the surface. He never felt quite himself after the Nogitsune, and he still wasn't sure if he even was himself. He hated that. He hated the fact he'd never be the same as he was before, he felt he'd lost his humanity. And his pack, his closest friends, felt the same way. Why else would they kick him out? His jaw tightened at the memory, lips pressing into a thin line. Before he could get lost in the dark corners of his thoughts, he quickly stepped into the shower, letting the rush of water drown out the echoes of the past.

Stiles stepped out of the bathroom, hair still damp and tousled from the shower. He was dressed in the outfit he'd chosen earlier, the fabric clinging slightly to his skin as he moved toward the bed that had cradled him through the night. He smoothed out the sheets, folding them nearly until the bed was made, a small gesture of order. (A thing he'd become quite obsessive with over the year, he hated not being in control when the Nogitsune possessed him, and he'd do anything to have a semblance of order in his day to day life.) Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he bent down to slip on his shoes, carefully threading the laces before tying them tight. Rising to his feet, he outstretched his arms, a few joints cracking as he stretched.

Passing by the duffel bag, he zipped it closed and slung it over his shoulder with ease. He grabbed his phone from where it lay beside the bags former spot, then headed to the door. On the way out, he reached for the flannel hanging from one of the pegs, slipping one arm through a sleeve and letting the other side hang loosely over his back as he stepped out into the day.

He strolled across the parking lot, heading toward his robin-egg-blue Jeep, Roscoe, its paint faded slightly under the years of sun and weather. After checking out of the motel, he'd brushed off the overly cheerful attempts at flirting from the receptionist with a polite smile and a few nods, letting her words drift straight past him. Now, as he reached his car, a faint smile tugged at his lips. He pulled open the driver's door, the familiar creek echoing in the quiet morning air, and tossed his duffel bag into the backseat. With a quick shrug, he slipped his other arm through the flannel's sleeve, adjusting it over his shoulders before sliding into the driver's seat. The leather was cool against his skin. He turned the key in the ignition, the Jeep's engine rumbling to life with a comforting purr.

"Mystic Falls, here i come..."

He chuckled to himself, it was such a cliché sentence, but he couldn't resist saying it either way, His dad had got in contact with one of his close friends, and they'd arranged that Stiles could come stay with the same people he grew up with. Elena, and Jeremy, Gilbert — The two were like cousins to Stiles, and he couldn't wait to see them again. As the sheriff had said, he could finally be free from the shackles of the responsibilities of the Supernatural. It would be a nice break, and stiles couldn't wait.

He pressed his foot against the accelerator pedal, hearing the jeep engine roar as he sped off. Some random One Direction song was playing. He was laying the CD he'd burned his and Scott's road-trip playlist onto — He'd never had the heart to get rid of it. He was mad at Scott, yes. He was betrayed by him after-all. Scott had been his best friend since childhood, ever since he had defended the now Alpha against his bullies. He thought they were inseparable. Hell, everyone thought they were inseparable. That, however, was not in the cards for the two boys, not anymore. His train of thought brought a sour look to his face. He shook his head, gazing out of the car window, eyes trained on the tarmac. He let the music fill the silence, letting the lyrics burrow into his head as he hummed absently to the melody.

It was an excruciatingly lonely car ride. The CD that played filled the dead air not only with loud music, but with a heavy sense of melancholy. The journey lasted several hours, and with every minute that went by, Stiles couldn't help but reminisce on all the good times he'd spent with the pack. About halfway into his trip he'd switched to the radio. And by the time he'd crossed the sign welcoming him to Mystic Falls, he had already heard about the 'animal attacks'. He knew better than to brush them off, but he couldn't help but hope it really was just a mountain lion.

As he drove past the Mystic Grill, the familiar sight of the building stirred something deep within him, and his stomach rumbled in response. Memories from his childhood flooded back, bringing with them a wave of nostalgia, and a sudden craving for the comfort food he hadn't tasted in years. He chuckled softly at the thought, the sound mingling with the hum of the engine as he continued down the road. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, its screen lighting up in his palm as he clicked through his contacts.

Elena Gilbert
| Message | Call | Other |

He fumbled with the button for a moment, his fingers dancing nervously before he finally pressed 'call'. As the phone rang, he leaned back slightly in his seat, tension creeping into his muscles. Each ring seemed to stretch longer than the last, amplifying his anxiety as he tapped his finger rhythmically against the steering wheel. The ringing cut off for a moment, quickly being replaced with a voice.

"Hello?"

Stiles couldn't help but smile; Elena's voice still carried the same warmth and familiarity from their childhood.

"Hi, Elena. It's stiles. I'm, uh.. staying with you, remember?"

There was a brief silence on the line, and Stiles felt a wave of anxiety wash over him, ready to spout apologies. But before he could say anything, Elena chimed in again.

"Oh, right! You need the address, don't you? Just a sec—let me send it to you! And by the way, we have a little welcoming party planned for you, Stiles!"

Stiles grinned, his voice catching slightly.

"What? You didn't have to- I mean.. Yeah, thanks, Elena."

He made an awkward face, trying to hide his embarrassment, even if she couldn't see him.

Elena's voice was warm as she continued,

"You deserve it, Stilinski. You're making a big move, and if we can help you feel more welcome, we will."

He could practically sense her smile through the phone.

"Right... I'd better let you go now. I'll send you the address. See you soon, Stiles!"

Elena said cheerfully before hanging up, Stiles clicked through his texts, the corner of his lips turning up into a smile as he found the address Elena had sent up. He focused on the screen, committing the numbers and street names to memory before quickly punching them into his maps app. The screen lit up with a route, and he started following the directions, the voice guiding him echoing through the car.