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eleven
warnings: suicidal birds, mentions of death, grieving, lots of angst but with a bit of fluff in the beginning to sustain you.
★
Stiles
"You wanna ask Derek for help? Why? Why?"
"He's got the triskele tattooed on his back," said Scott, as if it was obvious. "So there has to be a way to do it without healing, right?"
"Yeah still, doesn't he have his hands a little bit full?" I said, referring to Erica and Boyd, who were now officially missing.
As we rounded the corner, I saw Valerie staring at the bulletin board, where I knew missing-posters for Boyd and Erica had been put up. Her hair had grown a bit longer over the summer and it seemed like she had colored in her hairstreaks to a much more vibrant shade of purple. She was wearing a black t-shirt with a cut open and bloodied up Barbie doll on it, and a leather bomber jacket that said 'Punk's not dead, just taking a long nap' on the back.
Valerie and I hadn't talked to each other since that time she showed up at my house last term. Not even to give me the last of the burgers she owed me. They just showed up in my locker every day. How she had gotten my combination I had no idea.
A grin grew on Valerie's face as she turned around and spotted me.
"I like your new haircut, Bilinski." She gestured to my head, where I'd let my buzzcut grow out over the summer. "Makes you look less stupid."
"Thanks - and I like your shirt." I pointed at the demolished Barbie doll. "It distracts me from your face."
She saluted, before turning around and walking to class. Scott and I followed quietly behind her. Scott sent me a disbelieving look. I knew what he was on about. The short conversation between Valerie and I was something we could've said to each other last year – but there was something different about it now. The spite behind the words was gone. It was more like playful banter now than anything.
