Invisible String. Stiles Stilinski (1)

ii. it was you

"She says there's someone in the house with her. Please go get her, I don't know what to do, and I can't let anything happen to her, please-," Isaac blabbered, until Stiles shushed him.

"Okay, okay, i'm on my way. Don't worry, I'll get her, Isaac."

He immediately hung up, and ran out the door. He was never aware that the Nightly Residence was just, quite literally, two houses away. That somehow filled him with reassurance, the fact that there was always someone to be there, even when they never really got on the right foot from the start.

He started banging on the door and he heard a gasp. The door flew open and he was met with a crazed Amelie, who kept looking behind her, before rushing out the door and closing it behind her.

"Are you okay? What the hell happened?" His eyes growing with concern at the shivering girl in front of him ( he tried ignoring the fact that she was only dressed in a tank top and shorts, really not the time ). She nodded then shook her head, giving completely mixed signals.

"There's someone in there. I—I can't breathe. I could feel their eyes on me. I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy," She mumbled to herself.

"Hey, Hey! It's okay, you can spend the night at my place. You're not crazy, Amelie. You'll be fine," he grabbed her arms, making her look at him with wide, bewildered eyes. "We'll come back here tomorrow, alright?"

"Alright," she whispered, her eyes glassy.

He knew there was something off about this girl the second she heard voices in the classroom that morning, what he never thought was that she was hallucinating and imagining people.

With her arm in his hand, he walked her back to his house. The house was eerily quiet, with his dad back at the station. The girl next to him couldn't stop looking around her, like she was entering a maze, and she didn't know what anything was.

Guiding her up to his room, he released her by the drawers. "I'll get you something to eat, is that okay." Her eyes were glued to the floor as she nodded slowly.

Okay, he thought to himself. A girl is in your room, Stiles, a crazy one, but a girl nonetheless. Be nice.

🥰

AMELIE NEVER EXPECTED to ever wind up in Stiles Stilinski's room, but given the circumstances, she wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Her eyes scanned the room, typical teenage boy room, if you asked her. Blue walls, blue duvet.

She turned around to face the drawers, a few frames clad on top of it. She reached to grab a specific one, one with a much younger Stiles ( it made her smile, to be honest, seeing him in a younger form ) with his mother and father, she was assuming. His mother was beautiful, to say the least, and looked a lot like her son. Both had dark, raven hair with bright hazel eyes and the same glittering smile.

"Amelie."

A gasp emitted from her. She bolted around, and her eyes were playing with her. Stiles' mother stood in front of her, almost invisible, like a ghost.

"W—What?" Her eyes open and shut repeatedly, hoping they were playing a game, a very stupid one, before she realized something.

"It's you," She whispered. "You were the one talking to me. All this time."

The woman in front of her smiled, "I've been waiting a long time for you, Amelie. A very long time." The brunette pouted in confusion, to which the ghost laughed at. "You are gifted beyond measure, my dear."

"Considering I can see you, I think so too," she mumbled. What was taking Stiles so long?

"You said something to me, about protecting someone," she started to which the ghost raised her eyebrows in approval. "You meant Stiles, your son."

"I did."

"B-But why, your son doesn't need me. I'm the last person he would need. His best friend is a werewolf, for god's sake," she said exasperated, flailing her arms around. The woman gave her a knowing smile. For a ghost, she was anything but scary. She was actually quite reassuring.

"Stiles has been through a lot, Amelie, but he hasn't been through his biggest trial. I can't speak of it, a ghost isn't allowed to, but he needs you the most. No werewolf can protect him from what's coming."

"Why? W-What's—"

"I'm back!" Stiles burst through the door, two plates with microwaved pizza in his hands. She couldn't help the shocked expression clad on her face. Her eyes darted back to the corner where the woman stood, but she was gone, dissipated into nothingness. She looked back at the hazel eyes in front of her, and smiled at him.

How would she tell a boy that she just met that she could see his dead mother, and that she wants her to protect him?