Not Quite The Same (Hiatus)

Chapter Thirty Three

Pain erupted in Genim's arm.

He dropped the gun and rolled to the side of his father.

He groaned out as he covered the bullet wound in the side of his arm.

"Stiles!"

"Genim!"

Two different names, the same person.

He still didn't know who Stiles was, only assuming that it was him.

Was that his name?

His real name?

Did that used to be the name his father called him?

Someone kneeled down beside him.

"Stiles, hey, hang on!"

He didn't understand.

Why was he so concerned?

He was fine.

He groaned again and rolled onto his knees.

He got up, sitting on the soles of his feet.

He was still gripping the wound, all too familiar with the warm and wet feeling of blood.

He felt a tad light headed and his arm hurt and burned like hell.

Though he hadn't felt this sort of pain in a while, he was still used to it.

"Stiles? Hey, kid, look at me!"

Dad.

Gen...

Was he Genim?

Or was he Stiles?

Genim was the default name, he guessed.

Stiles was more... comfortable.

He felt more comfortable, like something in his mind had finally fallen into place.

Like finding the last puzzle piece.

Whoever he was, he still listened to his father.

He looked over at his father, who looked beyond worried.

"Stiles, hey, it's gonna be okay. We'll call the hospital--"

"No."

He couldn't afford to go to the hospital, to stay in one place for too long.

He had already outstayed his time here.

"What? Stiles, you have to go to the--"

"Dad," Genim (he guessed) said.

He could hear Scott and the others approach him as he continued, "I'm fine."

"I've learned not to believe you when you say that." His dad told him.

Genim let out a weak chuckle.