Stay with Me (Stalia)

Chapter 12

Stiles was confused and groggy when he woke up, but he was brought out of his haze fairly quickly by the pain in his chest. He looked down at his chest to see that someone had sewn up the new slashes. He knew they couldn’t have him bleeding out, he was so much more valuable to them alive. At least for the moment, he needed to be careful to make sure that he continued to be useful, because the moment he wasn’t, he was dead.

The door swung open and he jerked instinctively, the slight movement sending stabs of pain all throughout his body. He lifted up his head slightly and saw a man in glasses whom he had never seen before.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” He brought with him a glass of water and a plate of food. He knelt next to Stiles and helping him into a sitting position. A few painful moments later Stiles was leaning heavily against the wall looking warily at the new hunter.

“Are you the one who…” He gestured to his chest

“Stitched you up? Yes, I am. We need you injured, not dead. Clarisse is a little knife happy. I’m sorry about your head, our supplies are running out, I had a small amount of sedative left but you still woke up before I was finished, screaming bloody murder, might I add. Cooper had to knock you out before you ripped all of your stitches out. You had some nasty wounds on your chest, side, cheek, and leg.” The man said with a grimace. Stiles thought that the man almost might feel bad for him and his tone suggested his disapproved of Clarisse’s methods or at least the extremity of them.

“What…” Stiles started, but his words got caught in his dry throat. He began coughing, each one painfully ripping through his body.

“Here drink” The man held up the glass to his mouth, which he gladly accepted. When Stiles had finished the man pushed the plate towards him. “Eat, you must be starving.” Stiles gladly took the food and even though he was starving he began eating it slowly because he knew going too fast could cause him to throw up and he wasn't sure when he would get food next.

“You’re different than the others.” He said with his mouth full.

“Well let’s just say that I don’t think kidnapping a human boy and torturing him is the most moral thing for a hunter to do.”

“Happened to me before...although that only included a few punches,” Stiles said bitterly

“Look I have to go, but I’d suggest you make this easier on yourself and just tell them what they want to know. They have almost all the information anyways and what they want  they will get, one way or another.” The man in glasses gave him a grave look, something about the way he said that made Stiles do a double take.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if they can’t break you they will be forced to take someone else, perhaps the new little beta. Werewolves are a lot easier to torture because they are a lot less delicate, they can endure a lot more pain than you and survive.” The man took the empty plate and glass and left Stiles to his thoughts. Stiles knew that he would have to play it perfectly. He had to stay alive for long enough for his pack to find him, but he had to give enough information so that the hunters didn’t resort to kidnapping Liam or anyone else. Stiles couldn’t let anyone else go through this, he was suffering so much to protect his friends, not bring them harm.

He just hoped they found him soon. He didn’t know how much more he could take. Lydia would probably be able to find him when he was close to death, but he wasn’t sure how much time he had between being close to death and actually dead.

*****

Malia was sitting on Stiles’ bed when Lydia walked in. The girl looked a little startled to see her sitting there.

“Scott dropped me off here...I just didn’t feel like going to the loft yet.”

“I understand, I just came here to see, I just thought maybe being closer to him I could…”

“Get some banshee feeling as to where he is?” Malia provided.

“We weren’t having any luck with anything else, I might be Stiles’ best chance of being found, I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Lydia gave a shaky huff of frustration and sat next to Malia. Malia wasn’t exactly sure how to respond. She had tried before to help the banshee figure something out and had no luck. She decided instead to address the guilt she could feel coming from her friend, guilt for not being able to help enough.

“Lydia this is not your fault, no one blames you for not being able to find him.”

“I blame me!” She got up again and started pacing “What good are these powers if I can’t use them to save Stiles. God he’s normally the one who helps me figure this out. How am I supposed to do this without him?” Malia had no answer for her. She had been wondering the same thing since he was taken. Stiles was the clever one, the one who consistently came through and figured things out, now he was counting on them figuring something out and they were failing him.

“We’ll figure it out Lydia” She eventually said, she knew the words sounded empty, but she needed to say something. Lydia walked around Stiles’ room, she looked at the clear board he had with all of the hunters’ information that Remy had compiled, she fingered through the school work on his desk, and looked at the posters on his walls, but Malia could tell that nothing was sparking any kind of knowledge. Lydia turned back to her with a hopeless expression on her face.

“I know I can do this, I’m just not sure how.”

“Maybe that just means that he’s not in incredible danger or near to death,” Malia said hopefully.

“Yeah...maybe,” Lydia said, but she didn’t sound convinced. She sat again next to Malia and for a while the two girls sat in silence. Malia stared at the board that Stiles had filled up with pictures of hunters, red tape, and his sprawling handwriting. Seeing his handwriting sparked a sadness in her, it was just so personal, so Stiles. His handwriting perfectly described his personality, it was hurried and messy but still legible. Malia looked at every single paper, memorizing the faces of the hunters. The faces of those who had hurt Stiles and whom she would hurt in return when she got the chance.

“Maybe we could go for a drive? Stiles said you once found him when he was dying by automatic driving.”

“I’ve never tried doing it on purpose...it might work, at any rate it's better than just sitting here.” Lydia stood up and picked up her jacket and Malia followed suit. But before either girl could move out of the door, Lydia’s phone rang. “It’s Scott,” She said to Malia, “Hello?” Malia tried to focus her hearing but could only hear garbled sounds coming out of Lydia’s phone. “I’m with Malia….they got your messages?...we will be right over.”

“What is it?” Malia asked the second she hung up the phone.

“We have to head over to the loft. They’re back?”

“Derek and Braeden?”

“Derek and Braeden and Argent.”