consumed ➷ stiles stilinski [2]

03. fixed

   listen to: fire in the water - feist

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   My hair was mangled, my scratches were healing, and my stomach was rumbling as Stiles and I walked through the woods, trying to reach Scott.

   Stiles suddenly began to sprint, his flashlight ready in his hand. I rolled my eyes and started after him, my feet only moving at a normal, human paced speed. We ran and ran and ran until the fog became so dense that I couldn't even see where Scott was anymore. I concentrated on the back of Stiles' shoes to make sure I wouldn't lose him in the mist.

   We weaved through the woods and dodged (almost) every branch, trying our best to navigate through the dark, foggy forest. My legs never got tired but I could tell Stiles was running out of gas. It seemed that he needed to be whipped into shape sooner rather than later, and I could always help him with that...

   "AH!"

   My daydreaming was interrupted when Stiles suddenly stopped and yelped, causing me to run into him. From the momentum of my running, we both tumbled to the ground. A pair of strong hands helped us up.

   Scott.

   "Sorry, Blaise," Stiles muttered sheepishly. Then, turning back to his friend, he said, "Scott, I think I found something."

   A hopeful look shined on the werewolf's face. "I think I did, too."

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   "I don't think we should be in here."

   Scott and Stiles ignored me, their thoughts concentrated on the rocky, cave-like structure we stood in. It reeked of urine and dog — a smell worse than Scott's typical werewolf stench.

   "It's a coyote den," Stiles explained, waving his flashlight around.

   Scott gave him a pointed look. "A werecoyote den," he corrected.

   The two boys walked deeper into the cave, Stiles picking up a small, blue jacket as he did so. I never moved from my spot. It was rude to intrude on an animal's home, and the thought was making me more irritable by the minute.

   "This is Malia's," Stiles said, holding up the blue jacket. "The one from the photo."

   Scott was silent as he picked up another one of the werecoyote's belongings: a dirty teddy bear. I rolled my eyes, not amused nor comfortable with the situation.

   "We shouldn't be in here," I snapped. "She's not going to come back here. Our scent is all over the place and we just invaded her home."

   The boys looked back at me, finally realizing their mistake.

   Stiles was the one to speak. "Well, if she's not coming back here, where else is she going to go?"

   I sighed. "I have no idea."

   "Can either of you track her?"

   I looked to Scott for the answer to that question. With my recently messed up mind and daily hallucinations plaguing me, I wasn't sure I could focus on anything for more than a couple minutes without being distracted.

   "Maybe," the teen wolf finally replied, "but I'm better at this when I'm a full wolf. I'm still worried that if I do it, I won't be able to turn back."

   "The door's still open," Stiles muttered.

   I furrowed my brow at his words, remembering faintly what Naomi had told me while I explored my subconscious. You don't even know what I did to you, Lin. Had she "opened" my mind? Was this the reasoning behind my hallucinations?