Changing Patterns

• 5 •

Stiles climbed down the steps, his feet heavy as he did a small hop. His heart was quick, breath was being held slightly. He licked his lips as he slowly joined the dinning room, looking over the table. Stiles's brown pinch from nerves, maybe it was panic. I tilted my head down and kept my eyes on him, focusing my nose on his scent. Yeah, panic. Stiles quickly turned away and headed into the kitchen. His breath slowly becomes more normal.

His eyes pinch shut as I watch from my seat, he leaned back on the counter and counted quietly. I couldn't hear the numbers, and if I did I wouldn't understand them, polish. I took a bite of the meal I'd made, still watching as he breathed. My eyes quickly flicked at the sound of a chair scrapping on the floor. Isaac pushed back from the table with a smile and nodded at Scott that he was okay, then looking up and watching stiles the same way I did as he rounded the table and almost quickly entered the kitchen.

The pup instantly wrapped gently fingers around Stiles's wrist, holding up the humans hand in front of his face. He was speaking, though I couldn't hear it. To much chatter was going on for me to decipher the words. Isaac pulled on Stiles's pointer finger. The humans eyes following as Isaac did the same to the other four. He nodded and let an almost cry full smile cover his lips. Isaac leaned close to place his forehead to the side of Stiles's own. He rubbed his head slightly as stiles leaned into the touch.

Neither new how often they do the act, it was calming, and most of the pack saw it, they just didn't know what to make of it. Not unless you new the story behind it, like I did. Stiles had done it to Isaac, he'd calmed the boy running his fingers through blond curls, whispering small nothings of calming words. He'd shot into a panic attack after walking through a bunch of wolfbane bushes in the forest. By the time he got back he was having hallucinations.

I'd caught the moment he shifted in fear, the moment stiles fell to his knees in front of Isaac, the moment claws dug into Stiles's back and pulled down in a motion of desperate reality. The moment stiles pressed his head into the side of Isaacs and shushed him suppressing the many winces I witnessed, the moment Isaacs eyes cooled from a deep orange. I'd ran from the house and reached the garden by the time Isaacs claws had been slowly retracting, stiles had leaned back and pressed his hands to the pups cheeks. Wiping stray tears as they fell.

I watched stiles help Isaac to his feet, helped the human get him to bed in his room. Stiles had turned on a humidifier to remove any scent or remnants of the wolfsbane. He took Isaacs clothes and washed them three times. I watched stiles return the clothing to Isaacs bedroom, watched him tuck in the sleeping werewolf, watched him leave a sweet kiss on his forehead and watched him hunch over the bathroom counter and take pain medication, looking over his shoulder into the mirror at the wounds on his back before I entered.

His back was bloodied and he'd said he was visiting Deaton in a few minutes anyways. I watched him throw a jacket over his newly replaced shirt, refusing to let me take a look. I watched as stiles climbed into his Jeep -which I had fixed the engine properly, I watched as he avoided leaning back, I watched as he backed out and started down the dirt path. I'd witnessed these two connect, I new why the motion stuck and why it was so important. To others it was just an inside act for the two, some would call it weird, to me it's enduring, it was pack.

Stiles's heart beat calmed and he caught Isaacs eyes quickly. His lips whispered a thank you before that same smile appeared. His okay smile. His fake smile. The pups shoulders relaxed lightly as he stepped back. Then grabbing a cup and filling it with water before returning to the table unquestioned. Stiles sighed, then heading and grabbing a plate from the kitchen cabinet. A long and questionable stares at the glass item left my stomach unsettled. He quickly returned the plate and spun on his heal, leaving the kitchen, passing the diner table, and climbing the stairs.

'What the fuck... stiles didn't return to eat, in fact he locked his door upstairs. His heart beat told me he was sleeping and safe in the room. But he hadn't eaten, and no one mentioned or noticed his absence. No one but Isaac, who'd said stiles wasn't feeling to well. His heart didn't skip, but I knew it was a lie, on Stiles's part at least. I returned to my own room, leaving my door cracked and listening intently for the only heart beat in the house that I could hear. Stiles's heart beat would jump know and then, quickly returning to his normal slow and tired beat.

I got no good sleep that night. Unsteady and often waking up. My mind raked over everything going on from what I saw, the bruises, scars, sighs, heavy heart beat, the motions I picked up that showed his panic and anxiety, the scattered looks he gave when he didn't know how to answer. The worry I saw when I'd mentioned cooking dinner, the fact that no one noticed his absence before or after he'd come down stairs and returned. The way Isaac had truly believed Stiles's okay, the way he had not eaten, then his body came to mind. He wasn't muscular, of course, but he was also losing his shape generally.

Stiles's hips popped out in a boney way, his forearms were thon, his cheek bones prominent. And although I hadn't seen his leg, his pants seemed a bit baggy in a way that showed his weight loss. When was the last time he'd eaten? Why didn't he eat? Why does the pack ignore his presence and scent? What the fuck it going on here? I settled on the questions finally falling back asleep at 2:28 am after about an hour. The last time I woke up Stiles's heart had been rapid, about twenty minutes ago it calmed.

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