✓ Enough For You ━━ Stiles Stilinski

xiv. into the woods

Their teacher nodded respectfully, "thank you for volunteering, Ms. Stone but I asked Mr. Stilinski, and everyone participates in my class."

The Ember watched Stiles get up from his seat and took his stance at the front of the classroom. She glanced nervously to Scott as they both watched him start to shake and shut his eyes tightly. Looking like he was about to pass out, his two friends got up from their seats and walked slowly to him.

"Stiles," Odessa called steadily, not wanting to alarm him, "you okay?"

The boy didn't respond, only breathing heavy as he tried to hold on to the podium. It was only when he started to stumble on his feet did his two friends shoot forward to steady him.

"We should take him to the nurse's office."

Mr. Yukimura nodded to Scott as he watched his students leave his classroom, curious and confused stares in their wake.

Stiles bursted through the boy's bathroom door, his two friends following close behind—the girl of the group not caring if she was caught in the boy's bathroom.

Odessa spoke urgently as she watched Stiles lean against a sink, "hey, Stiles, look at me. Are you having a panic attack?"

"It's a dream," the boy muttered, staring at himself in the mirror, "it's a dream. This is just a dream."

Scott shook his head, scared for his friend, "no, it's not. This is real. You're here. You're here with us."

The Ember placed her hand cautiously on Stiles' shoulder, "okay, what do you do? Hey, look at me. How do you tell if you're awake or dreaming?"

"Your fingers," the Stilinski graveled, glancing down at his fingers, his eyesight blurry, "you count your fingers. You have extra fingers in dreams."

Odessa nodded, glancing toward Scott, a plan hatching in her mind, "okay. Okay, Stiles, hey," her hand on his shoulder went up to his cheek, white lines silently making their way through the teens, "look at Scott and count his fingers, okay? Count his fingers."

The Alpha nodded, understanding her plan, "how many do I have," not getting a response, even with Odessa's calming abilities, that were working slower than usual. He tried again, "hey! Look at me. Come on, Stiles. Look at my hands and count with me," he put up one finger and watched as Odessa helped him stay upright from next to the boy, the girl now rubbing his shoulder, "one... two..."

"Keep going," the Stone softly encouraged when he started to falter, her abilities finally starting to help.

"Three... four..."

"Five," Scott helped worriedly, watching his best friend's every movement.

"Six. Seven."

Odessa spoke up, making sure he knew she was still real and there, "eight."

"Nine. Ten," Stiles finished breathlessly. He glanced back and forth at his best friend's hands, making sure it was real, before gliding down the wall next to the sink, his two friends crouching down with him, "what the hell is happening to me," he asked incredulously, sweat glistening on his face.

"We'll figure it out," Scott optimistically reassured, "you're going to be okay."

The Stilinski lifted his head, "am I? Are you," the question made Scott look down to the floor, while Odessa just watched on, feeling the utmost concern for her friends, "Scott, you can't transform. Allison's being haunted by her dead aunt. And I'm straight up losing my mind. We can't do this. We can't... We can't help Malia. We can't help anyone."