Warnings: nightmares, guns, terror, angst, not much, just a pinch. Deliberate vagueness
It was almost familiar now. That feeling. Of being trapped. Of claustraphobia. Things were too small. Too tight. She couldn't move without brushing... well bars wasn't the right word. Nor was walls. It was more.... the edge of her captivities.
The smoke surrounded her. It was dark gray, like a fire that was started by transmission fluid. It flashed black in places. A shade of green colour she didn't recognise in other places.
She stood up. She hadn't been aware she was sitting till she moved. The edges of her confines tightened, shifted to fit her new position. She took a breath and pushed against it, tried to force her way through it.
Fire erupted across her body. Her veins, over her skin, boiled her blood.
She opened her mouth, cried out in pain. It wasn't a roar, wasn't the cry of a wounded animal.
It was a scream.
The scream of a human that wasn't strong enough.
She woke up, a lump in her throat, breath caught somewhere between her mouth and her lungs. She ran her hands through her hair. She gripped her necklace, held it in her hand.
Deep breaths, she told herself. Deep breaths, Vic.
One, two, in, three, four, out, the wind whispered. One, two, in. Three, four, out.
She followed the voice in her head, matched her breathing to the sound of the air.
Better? the earth asked.
Yes. Thank you.
She threw her covers off, let her feet hit the carpet of her room. She glanced to the pictures along her wall. The selfie Lydia had sent her of the two and Malia had been added to the collection.
She looked at her alarm clock, the red numbers flashing back at her. '5:38'
She had time for a run. Maybe to the preserve. It had been awhile she had gone for a run. A good, solid run where she wasn't running away from something or running to something else.
Just a run.
She put on leggings, a t-shirt and her jacket. She grabbed her phone, put it in her pocket. She hesitated to when her hand went to the knives on her nightstand. It was just a run, right? She wouldn't need them.
Oh, sure, don't bring your form of defense as you run through a dark town, then through the dark woods that have wild animals, and supernatural creatures. Great idea.
She grabbed both. Stuck them in the back pocket of her jacket. She left a note to her dad, stuck it on his coffee maker. He had an early shift. The note was just in case he got up before she came back.
She followed the familiar path down the sidewalk, past the first shops before the opening became apparent. She turned down the path, her sneakers on the woodchips, the dirt.
It was still dark out but she could see the trail as clear as if it were the middle of the day. She missed it. The feeling. The wind in her hair. The dirt under her feet. The adernaline in her heart. It felt like she was a part of the preserve, the forest. The trees. The nature. The wild.
Like it was wrapping its giant arms around her. Holding her. Welcoming her home.
But home had another meaning as well. It meant her dad, with his cup of coffee. It meant her brother, with his exaggerated movements and sarcasm. It meant sleepovers at Scott's, movies on the TV. It meant her boys, the white and black wolves. It meant Lia, her blunt words. It meant Lydia, her sass, brains and impecible fashion sense.
YOU ARE READING
Gut Instinct (Teen Wolf)
Fanfiction"My gut is telling me something's off with this kid," Vic said. "And I've learned to trust my gut a long time ago." "What else is your gut telling you?" Scott asked. She paused for a second before she turned to the two boys. "My gut is telling me...
