I'm No Werewolf (The Rewrite) // Stiles Stilinski x OC

Long last

Disclaimer: teen wolf does not belong to me in any way, shape or form :( thank you for all your continued support and all the reads and wonderful reviews, it means the entire world to me :) I decided to update quickly even though I should be doing essays but oh well haha also so excited, going to comic con Aberdeen this weekend and idk if you all watch buffy but charisma carpenter and James marsters are there ahhhh - sadly no teen wolf - but still, I can't wait :)

She climbed into the jeep, a little apprehension coursing through her veins. History had proven that Stiles and her -alone - inclose vicinity - probably wasn't the best combination, but she felt unable to turn down his offer. That invisible pull to be near him overruling her, usually so, strong-willed brain.

She had lied to Stiles. Of course she remembered last night. A lot of it was blurry and confusing, masked with the nerve-blistering pain, but she knew that every time she managed to break through the crippling agony that he was there holding her, whispering comforting things in her ear. The more she writhed, the more he held on. He didn't care that she was delirious and overwhelmed. He didn't care that she was restless and tense. He didn't care that she was hot and sticky, dripping with sweat that soaked the bed sheets. All he cared about was making sure she was alright, and it honestly meant the world to her.

Every full moon she was scared. Fearful of the pain and the consequences but had learnt to suck it up. To shrug it off and pretend everything was okay. This last full moon though, she wasn't scared. Not since he walked into her room and coaxed her through it. She felt stronger. More able. She felt... comforted.

Close to him, in his arms, she felt safe... and Kayla never felt safe. Not for a very long time. In fact, to be brutally honest, she couldn't remember the last time she felt truly, wholly safe. If ever.

Why did she feel safe with him?

It didn't make sense to her, but maybe it wasn't supposed to.

"They, uh, they released her body, huh?"

"Yeah" she replied, placing her bag between her feet, "it has been a month. I guess they have all the samples and specimens they need".

"Who's going?" he asked, "I don't suppose Derek, considering he's on the run and all".

"Just me".

"Ju-Just you?" he fumbled with his words, the engine spluttering to life, matching his taken aback tone, "as in... you, alone?"

"That's what 'just me' means" she snorted, "in case it wasn't kind of obvious by now, all my family are dead. The ones that aren't are either a fugitive, a vegetable or a bitch. It's pretty slim pickings".

"That's... that's so..."

"Depressing?"

"Very much so".

"It's cool" she shrugged, belting up as he reversed from the parking lot, "it's just a funeral".

She had been to plenty. Too many to count. This was just like any other Tuesday for her.

"You sure you don't want help calling people? I don't know... uh, did she have any friends? Boyfriends?... Girlfriends? Werewolf lackeys?"

"Not so much. She kept herself to herself. Since the fire..."

It was true. Since the fire, Derek and Laura had been permanently scarred. Unable to fully trust or bond with people like they had before. Surviving, but at what cost?

Stiles remained quiet, one hand nervously tightening around the wheel and the other tapping the shift stick, desperately searching for the right words to say.