Brick By Boring Brick/Teen Wolf AU/Sterek(boyxboy)

He Started Coming into My Room at Night

The reflections on the water danced against the current. The moon was full and provided enough lighting to cast eerie shadows amongst the woods. Stiles sat on the river bank and shivered at the cool night air. He was waiting for the sun to begin rising again or waiting for the courage to move further. He made it away from camp and made it as far as he could through the woods until he reached the water before him. He was fighting the ache that pulled at his heart; that wanted him to stay. Then he could hear Matt’s voice rustling through the leafs of the trees that surrounded him.

“Shut up,” Stiles whispered to the night air. He tossed small rocks at the water as the night progressed and he fought with himself. After some time exhaustion passed his adrenalin and Stiles eyes began to close. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and scrunched up his bag to situate the clothes he’d packed into a makeshift pillow. He laid down and before he knew it he had drifted to sleep.

It was a restless sleep full of makeshift nightmares and unfamiliar sounds of the wilderness. He had slept for over an hour and the next dream shook him awake enough that he could feel the jagged rock that stabbed into his side. He didn’t move. He liked the pain. It wasn’t really the pain that was appealing; it was feeling something that mattered. In a sick way he felt he was punishing himself for something he knew deep down wasn’t his fault. Demons of the past have a way of drowning out the rational and making you blame yourself for all the bad. He finally couldn’t take it and let out a small whimper rolling over on his back. He traced his fingers against his hip and could feel the small cut he had created. The wind had picked up and the trees lashed back and forth above him. He thought of the ceiling at Ethan and Aiden’s. The one he watched endlessly for hours tripping on a number of drugs. He missed it right now. He didn’t miss the zombie he had become. He missed the warm feeling of being there with friends. Laughing with Danny and the twins. Running around and playing lacrosse. Then he thought of Scott and their runs. Isaac and those adorable eyes and he even missed his constant need to eat. He missed Lydia and the way she would blurt out random facts and her wisdom. Derek. That one hurt.

“Why do you always fuck things up Stilinski?” Stiles rolled over ignoring his own question. He cried instead. What was he going to do? He cried for himself. It was him and the night and then something moved. Stiles shot up from his place on the ground and squinted into the night looking for something. He slowly stood up and grabbed his bag slipping the straps over his shoulders. He slowly began walking back in the direction of Point Break. He could hear more movement and Stiles was always one to investigate and ask questions. After a few minutes Stiles could see something illuminated ahead of him. He lowered himself and quickly but quietly as possible made his way closer to what was before him. Things began to take shape and Stiles ducked behind a tree and peeked at the figure that worked with a small flashlight; the light that guided Stiles to this place.

The figure grunted as he pulled hard at the bark of a tree. Stiles thought the person may be a homeless recluse that had one to many but before he had another thought the tree gave way and the figure pulled a large block from the tree. Stiles almost gasped. A hidden box right in the tree. The figure turned around and for a moment Stiles caught a glimpse; it was Deucalion. He watched as Deucalion opened the box and a devilish grin took over his face.

“It’s all coming together.” Deucalion couldn’t seem to get the stupid grin off his face as he talked to himself. He pulled something from his pocket and placed it inside the box. He placed it back into the tree and glanced around one last time and began his walk back to camp. Stiles was stunned. What other secrets was this man hiding? When Stiles was sure Deucalion was long out of range he slowly made his way to the tree. Not waiting or thinking he began to run his hands along the bark feeling for any abnormalities. It seemed hopeless. Was this even the right tree? Just before he gave up he felt a small hole. He gripped the tips of his fingers against it and began to pull. It took a little time but before he could consider taking a break it gave way knocking him to the ground.