Monstrous ➙ Theo Raeken

|20|

She was disoriented when she woke up, shrouded by the warmth of her surroundings that should have worried her but didn't. Her eyes peeled open slowly as to ignore the bright light that filtered in through the window near her bed. She could hear the slow beep of the coffee pot downstairs, signaling that someone was making coffee. Probably her father she thought sleepily before slowly closing her eyes once again. Her heart clenched, taking a sharp pause as her eyes snapped open suddenly to take in her surroundings. Three soft snores came from their mouths, the boys whom she loved endlessly looked peaceful and serene as they slept. Her face moved slowly from side to side, gazing at their faces and how they differed. Theo's mouth was open slightly, shallow breaths filtering in and out at a rhythmic pace. Delcan was more restless but still peaceful in his own way, arm thrown carelessly over his eyes to block the light from his fitful dreams. Stiles was snoring loudly from his chair, eyebrows scrunched together as he cuddled his baseball bat tightly against his chest.

Clarissa sighed in sorrow, a permenant darkness surrounding her heart as she realized the previous night had not been her worst nightmare coming true. It was obvious from the sharp smell of the coffee the sheriff was brewing downstairs, not as bitter as her father took but more of a tangy smell. She could smell the sheriff and Stiles' scents all over the house, the faint hint of a woman's perfume that had faded over the years but as if not to be forgotten. It was real, her parents demise and it crushed her. Took her to a place that she wasn't sure she wanted to go. The darkness that had surrounded her heart over the years of gut wrenching loss had finally taken over, pulling her into a place that she was sure would destroy her.

Her breath halted as she felt eyes on the back of her neck, the even sound of his breathing become harsher as he woke from his peaceful slumber. His arm felt heavy around her waist, almost like a restraint keeping her from running into the self destructive pit that had formed at the base of her stomach. "I can't do it."

"I know." He whispered softly, his arm pulling her back to rest against the sharp contours of his body. If she wasn't so saddened, she might have blushed at his way of comforting her but this was not the time or place to succumb to her inner desires. The time would come, that much she knew, the dangerous path that the two were beginning to take with each other had finally begun to show. A path that would diverge like two trailheads in a graceless wood: one that would tear them apart at the seams or make them stronger in the cruel world they had come to know. "But you aren't alone Lissa."

"I can't protect him. Not from this." Her eyes clenched tightly at the gentleness of his tone, the promising words that even he knew wouldn't placate the trembling teenager. A small tear emerged from the corner of her clenched eyes, before she opened them to look at the hair that covered her younger brother's head. She felt like a failure, unable to protect him from the helplessness of the pain of loss. She had fought with vigor through the years to keep him away from the supernatural, like she had done with her parents whom had been ecstatic at the fact that their daughters as finally branches out from her small circle to make friends. It had plagued her, the fact that they had remained blissfully unaware of the tragedies that had claimed Beacon Hills until their last breaths. The tingling sensation of lips being hesitantly pushed against the back of her neck soothed her, even in that moment Theo was hesitant with her. "How do we move on from this?"

"It'll hurt like a bitch." The new voice that joined the conversation startled the pair and Clarissa's eyes moved to meet the saddened whiskey colored eyes of Stiles Stilinski. "It will surround you for the rest of your life. The ache of losing them. It's how I felt, how I feel."

Clarissa looked at him in understanding, remembering the moment that he had come into class after losing his mother. It was the first moment that she had truly seen Stiles for what he would grow to be. A warrior, surrounded by sarcastic whit that guarded his walls. She remembered him coming into class that day, Lydia and Jackson had been surrounded by their crafts in blissful ignorance but Clarissa saw him. She saw the pain in his eyes as he sat by his best friend, no sarcasm painted across his face as he stared down at his desk. His eyes had looked up to dart around the room, meeting hers and she offered him a small hesitant smile.