"please, just let me help you"
"why should i? everyone i know either dies or thinks i'm a total freak show"
Georgia Ray is a social outcast. Nobody bothers to spare her a second glance, unless it's to roll their eyes or scoff. Living alone w...
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STILES WAS HIMSELF. The oni's proved that when they branded him with the self symbol. He was back in control of his actions, the movements of his calloused hands. But, with that great win, came the loss of Lydia.
They couldn't find her. She'd vanished into thin air, no trace of her or the nogitsune to be found. It was annoying how good he was at masking his trail. Again, Georgia felt useless.
Georgia was sat on the weathered front porch of the McCall house. She was scared to face Stiles, even if she knew it was the real him. Georgia wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel, but she knew she didn't want to accidentally hurt him. So, she sat out there like a child hides under a blanket, trying to ground herself.
The door opened. She didn't need to turn, already knowing it was Stiles. But she did anyways, watching as he stepped outside. He was eyeing her cautiously, like he didn't know what to do either.
Georgia forced a tight smile, but she knew he saw right through it, "Hi, Stiles," she wiped her cheeks just to double check she wasn't crying, hopping down from the banister, "I'm sorry, I just ran looking for Lydia. I didn't mean to avoid you."
Stiles furrowed his brows, looking down at his hands, "I, uh, I remember it all."
Georgia's faux smile dropped. He realized what she was doing. Pretending it didn't happen in case he was unaware. She desperately wished he didn't remember.
"Everything the nogitsune did. I was living through it all, watching without control," Stiles' voice hitched on the end, "Hurting you."
"You didn't hurt me," Georgia insisted, even as tears blurred her vision. She sniffled, hating how emotional she was lately, "That wasn't you."
"It was my body," Stiles argued, hating her for not admitting it and himself for not being stronger, "It was my face, it was my voice, it was all parts of me."
Georgia ran a hand across her face and through her hair, "Stiles, I know you would never hurt me."
He met her state, noticing how difficult it was for her to maintain the eye contact, and how she remained where she stood, not getting any closer like normal.
". . . But I did."
Georgia cupped her mouth, briefly looking away as she regained herself, ". . . Yeah, you did," she hastily wiped her face dry, pushing herself forward. She eliminated the space between them, cupping his face with her frigid hands, "But it wasn't you. That's what's important. I love you, Stiles."
He shook his head, gently grabbing her arms and pulling them down, separating their touch, "You can't forgive me that easily. It's not right."
Georgia was close to sobbing, her head tipping back as she wished he'd just listen.
"When Colton raped me, that was him—that was all him," Georgia said, "All the taunting and mind games, he did it all. I hate him because he's a rapist, and he's a fucking asshole," she took a deep breath, and then she grabbed his wrists, holding up his hands. It made her feel sick to her stomach, but this was something she needed to overcome, "You did nothing. Absolutely nothing. I know that if you could've done anything at all to stop it, you would've. It was the nogitsune. I know that, so if I'm not upset with you, then you don't get to be upset with yourself either."
