Deception || s. stilinski [2]

life or death

He wakes to a shrill ringing in his ears.

The scream is not his own this time. Stiles' tired eyes snap open, staring up at the white ceiling of his bedroom. His irises glance over to his nightstand, the red numbers on his alarm clock reading 3:35.

Stiles recognizes the scream immediately, it coming from across the hall. Almost instantly waking up, Stiles throws the covers off his legs as he rushes out of his bedroom into the hallway, twisting the doorknob to Bea's bedroom door. The door hits the wall as Stiles throws it open, revealing a squirming Bea on her bed as her mouth is open in a scream.

He rushes to her side, grabbing her wrists as they thrash around. Stiles pins them to the mattress by her head as he looks into her wide-open, sapphire eyes that are filled with tears. Sweat lines her forehead as she breathes heavily, her back arching from the bed. It is very clear to the Stilinski boy that this is not a nightmare; she's awake.

The boy has to get on the bed and straddle her hips to keep her legs from harming him or herself. His eyes are wide in panic as looks at her features screwed up in pain. "Bea? Bea, what's wrong? Bea!" he exclaims, his voice frantic as she continues to scream, clenching her eyes shut in pain.

Her whole body feels like it's burning from the inside out. It feels like a thousand needles are stabbing her over and over again, all over her skin. She screams and she whimpers, struggling against Stiles' tight grip as pain courses through her veins, tightening her muscles. Her forehead drips with sweat, her fists clenching as her fingernails make crescent shapes in the skin of her palms.

Almost as soon as it had started, it stops. She lets her back rest against the mattress again as she greedily breathes in air. The girl unclenches her fists, her whole body relaxing as her chest heaves with heavy breaths. Her muscles are still tense, almost as if she had been electrocuted. At last, her eyes open, staring back into the wide, whiskey ones of Stiles Stilinski hovering over her.

"Are you okay?" he asks her, his eyebrows crease with confusion as he looks down at her. His grip on her wrists loosens, but he doesn't let go, fearful she could flip a switch and be screaming again in seconds.

A shaky breath leaves her lips as she nods her head. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay," Bea breathes out, her tone not very convincing as her voice wobbles.

"What happened?"

The girl shrugs, dried tears on her cheeks and new ones forming in her eyes. "I don't know. I was just sleeping, and all of the sudden, I felt this burning pain all over my body. It literally felt like I was burning from the inside out; like I was being electrocuted."

Pieces start to click in his head at her explanation. "Well, if you weren't being electrocuted, then who was?"

Again, the girl shrugs, wincing at the pain that shoots through her body at the action. "I don't know. I'm not good at this whole empath-thing, yet. Deaton said once I get more advanced in my powers, I'll be able to tell who's getting hurt. I just haven't gotten to that point, yet."