Supporting the Flower

Stiles Stilinski One-Shot

Hey guys, this was a one-shot that I wrote awhile ago on FF.net and thought that I would share it here. I hope you guys enjoy it :)
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Run. Just run. Don't look back. You can't look back.

Her thoughts became a chant in her boggled, distorted mind as Lillian ran as fast as she could, her legs moving up and down swiftly with each dashed step, feet touching the ground and then back up again in a fazed motion. She was never a good runner, hell she was horrible, and always had low stamina, but tonight, tonight, she wasn't going to stop. Even as every little sound around her would make her skin crawl, she continued going even impossibly faster.

It must be the adrenaline.

Adrenaline pumped through her sore, cold body, making her move, not letting her stop. She couldn't. She had already left through the side window, she was already too far past the unspoken line. If she went back, if she even thought about setting foot back, getting hit was the least of her worries. It would be a beating.

Or worse.

The sky was dark, and all she had was the moonlight from above to guide her on her escape. She didn't know where the hell she was going. She didn't have a plan. All she had was a motive.

To get away. To get far, far away.

In 3 days, just 3 fucking days, she was going to be 18, she was going to be of legal age. He couldn't do anything to her, and she could have waited. She could have endured three more days of being locked up in hell-- But no, this night she had just endured was one of the worst beatings she's had in a long time. And it's been years. She couldn't stay. She couldn't take anymore pain, anymore words, anymore abuse.. She just had to run, run as fast as she could, out her bedroom window and out the small city she had grown up in as the man laid drunk on the couch. The more and more she thought of when his steel fist smashed into her ribs, making her gasp for breath as she curled up and screamed for mercy, the harder and harder she made herself move. There was another city nearby; Beacon Hills. She just had to get there.. If she got that far, maybe she could be safe.

Maybe there could be a sanctuary. Somewhere. There had to be. Anywhere. Please.

Stiles' hands gripped the steering wheel of his jeep as he bit hard on his lower lip. His fingernails clawing into the rubber. The emotional pain that was radiating from his chest made him grip the wheel increasingly tighter as he dared not shed a tear. A tear that he so desperately wanted, but his pride was getting the best of him. Anger, but mostly sadness was overwhelming him, and driving with his emotions high and vision becoming blurry wasn't a good idea. But his safety wasn't the frontline of his thoughts. His nail dented into the wheel's groove, a shaky breath passing his lips as he thought back to just a few moments ago. And why he was like this when before, he was giddy with joy..

Two years. Their two year anniversary. Stiles couldn't fathom the thought of being with Malia for that long. The two of them had been through hell and back, fought through their demons, graduated from high school and now had their own places, thoughts of heading to college now in their future. The brunette glanced over at the apartment building, looking up at Malia's patio, her sliding glass door illuminated the inside, and her silhouette was visible from where he parked on the curb. Stiles picked up the bouquet of flowers and chocolates he had brought for her, ready to escort his date to dinner. One that he had arranged two weeks in advance secretly. He was dressed up more than usual, a nice black button shirt and the works, still having those little butterflies in his stomach about everything going as planned. If they would be on time. If his breath smelled right, things to that sort. He was an overthinker, and he didn't want anything to get in the way of their night. It was their night.