fic: haunted
Title: just what humans do
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Characters: Malia Tate, Stiles Stilinski
Rating: T
Warnings: None
Placing: Post-3b
“We’re too similar, losing our minds with cabin fever, shut in confined spaces, lost in the dark. My heart is taken and resting on your heart.” Daughter
It was happening again, the same nightmare. He was at school, but it was snowing and it looked like a garden. Exactly like that night, the Oni was there, they swords in hand fighting Scott and Kira and Allison was there too; and he… he was too weak to help, Lydia holding him to keep him steady. Everything was being replayed and it’d happen any second - the moment he as told so many times - Allison, with her bow, killing one of them, just to be stabbed right after.
And he. Was too weak. To do something about it.
It made him so angry he wanted to scream; he wanted to bring it from within and shout it out like Lydia was able to do, but he was trapped in this nightmare with no voice and no way out.
Until the moment his phone rang, pulling him out of his sleeping state.
Stiles blankly reached for the phone, still numb from the terrible dream and barely registred the name on the screen.
“I’m sorry.” he heard her voice and all the fog in his mind vanished.
“Hi, what’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry I woke you up.” she was out of breath and he supposed she was running, but her voice was firm, even thought he could sense her tension, even through the phone.
“Don’t be.” he calmed her, sitting down the bed.
“I’m outside your window.”
Stiles smiled.
“Stalky.” he jocked, getting up and walked to the window. He heard her laugh and then saw her, exactly where she told she was, in her pajamas and holding the phone in her ear. “Good evening, Mal.”
“Good evening, Sti.”
The next thing, Stiles was opening the window and Malia hopped inside with his help. As soon as she was inside, he noticed the little details - how her hair was sweaty and her breathing heavy; her eyes were sad and teary. He knew that look pretty well: it was the look of the haunted. He looked at it every time he saw his reflection. Malia hugged him, hiding her face in his chest and took a deep breath, her body shivering.
“It was the car accident again.” she explained, her voice muffled in his shirt. “Some nights I can’t close my eyes. It’s been years and I still can’t sleep.”
He caressed her hair.
“I know exactly how you feel.” he told her, his lips in her hair, and she nodded.
“I know you know. I know you understand.”
Malia backed half a step, raised her head.
“Did you run here?” Stiles asked and she nodded.
“I should go.”
“But you just got here!” he protested, making her smile shyly. “Besides… you woke me up from my own nightmare. I think we can kill some time, don’t you?”
She bit her lower lip, thinking if she should.
“What do you have in mind?”
“I don’t know… do you remember where we stopped with Community?” he wondered. “I think we’ve got time for a couple more episodes.”
Malia fully smiled this time and Stiles let go of her to get his computer.
“The last one we saw was the one where Shirley gets married again.” She reminded him.
They end up watching four episodes instead of two, trying not to laugh at loud, because the Sheriff needed a good night of sleep, and when they thought it was enough, it was 2 a.m. already, any sign of the nightmares that bothered them was gone.
He turned down the computer and put it aside. Malia held Stiles, her head on his shoulder, and he held her back, one hand holding hers, the other tracing the lines of her body that her tank top was hidding.
“I really should go, I think.” she whispered, and he held her tigher.
“You think?”
She raised her head and he leaned to kiss her, their lips brushing timidly at first.
“I guess I should.” she continued. Stiles put one hand on her neck gently and kissed the corner of her mouth. Malia’s hand went from his chest to his face, her thumb in his jaw.
“Do you want to?” he asked in her ear and a warmth spread through her body. She shook her head no and they looked in each other’s eyes.
“No.” she said.
“Stay, then.”
They kissed - this time for real, this time deeper. And she stayed.
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Characters: Malia Tate, Stiles Stilinski
Rating: T
Warnings: None
Placing: Post-3b
“We’re too similar, losing our minds with cabin fever, shut in confined spaces, lost in the dark. My heart is taken and resting on your heart.” Daughter
It was happening again, the same nightmare. He was at school, but it was snowing and it looked like a garden. Exactly like that night, the Oni was there, they swords in hand fighting Scott and Kira and Allison was there too; and he… he was too weak to help, Lydia holding him to keep him steady. Everything was being replayed and it’d happen any second - the moment he as told so many times - Allison, with her bow, killing one of them, just to be stabbed right after.
And he. Was too weak. To do something about it.
It made him so angry he wanted to scream; he wanted to bring it from within and shout it out like Lydia was able to do, but he was trapped in this nightmare with no voice and no way out.
Until the moment his phone rang, pulling him out of his sleeping state.
Stiles blankly reached for the phone, still numb from the terrible dream and barely registred the name on the screen.
“I’m sorry.” he heard her voice and all the fog in his mind vanished.
“Hi, what’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry I woke you up.” she was out of breath and he supposed she was running, but her voice was firm, even thought he could sense her tension, even through the phone.
“Don’t be.” he calmed her, sitting down the bed.
“I’m outside your window.”
Stiles smiled.
“Stalky.” he jocked, getting up and walked to the window. He heard her laugh and then saw her, exactly where she told she was, in her pajamas and holding the phone in her ear. “Good evening, Mal.”
“Good evening, Sti.”
The next thing, Stiles was opening the window and Malia hopped inside with his help. As soon as she was inside, he noticed the little details - how her hair was sweaty and her breathing heavy; her eyes were sad and teary. He knew that look pretty well: it was the look of the haunted. He looked at it every time he saw his reflection. Malia hugged him, hiding her face in his chest and took a deep breath, her body shivering.
“It was the car accident again.” she explained, her voice muffled in his shirt. “Some nights I can’t close my eyes. It’s been years and I still can’t sleep.”
He caressed her hair.
“I know exactly how you feel.” he told her, his lips in her hair, and she nodded.
“I know you know. I know you understand.”
Malia backed half a step, raised her head.
“Did you run here?” Stiles asked and she nodded.
“I should go.”
“But you just got here!” he protested, making her smile shyly. “Besides… you woke me up from my own nightmare. I think we can kill some time, don’t you?”
She bit her lower lip, thinking if she should.
“What do you have in mind?”
“I don’t know… do you remember where we stopped with Community?” he wondered. “I think we’ve got time for a couple more episodes.”
Malia fully smiled this time and Stiles let go of her to get his computer.
“The last one we saw was the one where Shirley gets married again.” She reminded him.
They end up watching four episodes instead of two, trying not to laugh at loud, because the Sheriff needed a good night of sleep, and when they thought it was enough, it was 2 a.m. already, any sign of the nightmares that bothered them was gone.
He turned down the computer and put it aside. Malia held Stiles, her head on his shoulder, and he held her back, one hand holding hers, the other tracing the lines of her body that her tank top was hidding.
“I really should go, I think.” she whispered, and he held her tigher.
“You think?”
She raised her head and he leaned to kiss her, their lips brushing timidly at first.
“I guess I should.” she continued. Stiles put one hand on her neck gently and kissed the corner of her mouth. Malia’s hand went from his chest to his face, her thumb in his jaw.
“Do you want to?” he asked in her ear and a warmth spread through her body. She shook her head no and they looked in each other’s eyes.
“No.” she said.
“Stay, then.”
They kissed - this time for real, this time deeper. And she stayed.