"GEORGIA," WILLOW'S VOICE was soft as she shook her sister awake. It was a new day, and Georgia had been sleeping in bed. The blonde groaned quietly, rubbing at her eyes.
"Willow?" she grumbled back, voice deep from just waking up now. She squinted at her alarm clock, seeing it was late at night, "What's wrong?"
Willow cleared her throat, trying to think of the best way to word it. Georgia caught a whiff of her swirling emotions, instantly sitting up, the sleep knocked out of her, "What?"
"Um, Scott called, but your phone was dead," Willow started off, "He said that Stiles is in trouble."
Georgia stood up from her bed, going to pull some sweatpants up her bare legs, "In trouble how?"
"He called Scott saying he sleepwalked somewhere cold and his leg is hurt," Willow relayed the same information she received.
"Can't the Sheriff track his phone?" Georgia twisted her hair up into a pony tail before grabbing her coat. She was already making her way to the bedroom door, Willow following.
"I don't know," Willow shrugged, "He had to turn his phone off to save battery. I don't know how that's tuff works."
The two jogged downstairs, Georgia pulling on her shoes. A noise made her turn, seeing Willow was putting bullets in a handgun before holstering it inside her jacket.
"What're you doing?" Georgia asked.
"I'm coming with," Willow said in an unwavering, and certain tone, "I'm a good tracker, if we can find any trace of him, I'll be able to follow it."
"My legs are faster, I'm gonna start circling Beacon Hills," Georgia stepped out the front door. Willow jogged, catching her arm before she could slip away.
"No, Georgia, we should stick together," she countered, "Scott and Isaac are going to Stiles' to get his scent."
Georgia scoffed, pulling free, "He's my anchor, Willow, I've already got his scent."
"Georgia—"
"There's no time!" Georgia wasn't upset with Willow necessarily, but more stressed about the current situation.
"What if we need to meet up? You don't have your phone," Willow followed her down the front steps.
"If Isaac needs me, I'll feel it," Georgia tossed over her shoulder. Before Willow could say anything else, Georgia was off.
Willow sighed, jogging to her car.
It took mere minutes for Georgia to reach the Stilinski home. She stopped across the street once she saw Stiles' and the Sheriff's car were missing. Inhaling deeply, Georgia let her eyes shut.
Where are you? Catching a whiff of his scent, Roscoe's rubber tires and Stiles' bed, Georgia took off once more. When she looked through her bright red eyes, it wasn't difficult to find the trail of his scent and emotions.
Georgia ran as fast as she could. It was different than any time before. Tears threatened her eyes from the whipping of wind across her face, but she ignored it. Georgia needed to find Stiles.
Her feet fell against the ground beneath her with ferocity. She wasn't slowing down, regardless of her breath growing labored and the pain creeping up her legs from exertion.
"Stiles," she whispered helplessly, pathetically, "I'm coming. I promise I am, just wait for me. Please."
* * * * *
Georgia slowed to a stop, panting. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as her lungs contracted and expanded with fresh air. In the darkness, she examined Roscoe. She'd found it, although the battery was dead.
It didn't make sense. Did Stiles drive there while asleep? Or did he forget? Georgia glanced at the hospital in front of her before getting behind the wheel.
She couldn't quite reach the pedals. Her hands gripped the wheel as she took a deep breath, concentrating. Why were you here, Stiles? Where did you go? She closed her eyes, imaging Stiles sat there himself. Georgia could picture him, sweat gathering on his brow. He didn't stay for long once arriving at the hospital.
Georgia got out, approaching the building. Following Stiles' trail. She weaved between doctors and nurses, retracing the same path Stiles went. He stuck to the edges, like he didn't want to be seen. Why? It didn't matter right now.
She followed the past tense of Stiles all the way upstairs onto the roof. As soon as Georgia broke out up top, she was gasping and stumbling.
Run, run, run. No, stop! Leave me alone. I don't want to do that—I can't, I won't! So many emotions struck Georgia all at once. Anxiety made her heart pound and she had the urge to yank it from the chest and throw it over the edge, if only to catch a break.
But it wasn't her own anxiety.
"Stiles," she whimpered, realizing it was his. He was there, and he was far from okay. Georgia searched the place, but couldn't find any blood. She could sense the fight, she could feel it in the air. It was strong. Georgia always felt Stiles' chemosignals stronger than anybody else's.
"Do you wanna spend the night?" Stiles had asked the night prior, both of them sitting in Roscoe. Georgia turned to look at him, sighing. She reached out and grabbed his hand.
"I should check in with Willow. She'll wanna know why I blew off school," Georgia grumbled, not excited to say no, "I was supposed to meet with the guidance counselor."
"Guidance counselor?" Stiles echoed, brows furrowed, "Georgia, why didn't you stay at school?"
"I wanted to go with you to the hospital," Georgia said simply, squeezing his hand, "I care about you, Stiles. If you're stressed, so am I."
"Why were you meeting with the counselor?" Stiles asked on, avoiding her previous statement. He didn't want her stressed. Especially not if it was over him.
Georgia hesitated, looking out the window as the scenery blurred by. She didn't want to tell him. She was embarrassed.
"Georgia?" he repeated, wanting an answer of at least some sort.
"I think I have dyslexia," Georgia finally admitted, "Willow picked up on it. Apparently it's a family thing."
"Oh," Stiles blurted, "I thought you knew that."
Georgia panned over to him, her lips parting, "What?"
Stiles shrugged sheepishly, "We're study partners, remember?"
"What do you mean? You noticed?" she didn't know how to feel about the revelation.
"I knew it was something," Stiles struggled to put it into proper words without offending her, "You're not dumb, Georgia. You struggle to understand or read stuff so you give up and make shit up. Like that thesis you did last year, about Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy being soulmates."
"It had some really compelling points—Mr Somega agreed," Georgia reminded, pointing at him.
"We were learning about the American revolution," Stiles smiled small, sympathetic. They sat in silence for a while before it was Stiles who squeezed her hand, "I'm sorry, I would've mentioned it, but I thought you knew."
"It's okay," Georgia reassured, although it would've been nice to know sooner, "You didn't know."
Stiles pulled into her driveway, putting Roscoe in park, "Do you want me to come in?"
"You don't have to," Georgia lifted their intertwined hands, dropping a kiss to his knuckles, "I don't know if Willow's gonna be mad or not."
Stiles nodded, biting his tongue. He gave her a sleepy smile before leaning over to kiss her on the lips. Once she pulled back, they bid their farewells and Georgia jogged up to her front door.
It was the first night they spent apart in a while.
Georgia blinked harshly, knocking the tears in her eyes down her cheeks. She wiped angrily, fighting through her self resentment to instead focus on finding Stiles.
His trail was dead. No matter how much she scrutinized the area, his scent was gone. She'd never seen anything like it. As if he'd masked his trail. Georgia didn't even know somebody could do that.
She slowly closed her eyes, exhaling a warm cloud. It fogged from the contrast of the nipping air surrounding her.
Stiles was her anchor. When Georgia was at her lowest, Stiles dragged her back down to earth, holding her in place. Keeping her human.
Georgia focused all her energy onto him. She thought about quickly she let him in, and how important he was. Georgia thought about their bond, and that first time the touch of his hand alone calmed the wolf inside of her threatening to claw to the surface.
Then, she began walking. Her eyes remained closed, blinding her, but her body carried her forward. Georgia continued like this, step by step. She exited the hospital and turned aimlessly, willing herself to Stiles.
There was a connection between them. Anybody could see it, or hear it in the way they talked about the other. Georgia could feel the connection like it was a physical thing if she tried hard enough.
She wasn't sure how long she was walking for. Georgia trusted her instincts and let them guide her. She could hear the crush of leaves beneath her feet, and forest animals prancing around.
Something felt familiar. She opened her eyes at last. She was in the woods, encompassed by trees. Her brows creased.
It wasn't the woods by Derek's house, she knew that. But this patch of land was one she'd been to before. Georgia tried to remember, but couldn't quite put her finger on it. So close, but so far away.
A heartbeat. Georgia heard it behind her, a good bit back. She halted and listened closely. Somebody was walking. They used quiet footsteps, but with her powers, nothing was quiet enough.
It wasn't Stiles. She knew it wasn't. She'd know if she passed him. The hairs on Georgia's neck stood up as she tiptoed back the way she came. She slinked between trees, using them and the dark to hide her. After a few minutes, she saw a flashlight's beam.
Georgia pressed her back against a tree. She waited and waited until the figure was closer, walking past her. With a growl, Georgia tossed the person to the floor. Her claws were out and eyes were glowing.
The person, revealed to be a woman with long caramel hair, rolled onto their back quickly. Her gun was up and pointed at Georgia, until they both relaxed.
"Willow?!" Georgia cursed, letting her claws retract. She held out a hand, pulling her sister to her feet. Willow lowered the gun, "Why aren't you with the others?"
"Stiles is at Eichen. Lydia figured it out with her banshee thing," Willow explained, brushing some leaves off her back, "They're going there now."
"What?" Georgia's face furrowed, "That's not possible."
Willow shrugged, having no explanation.
"Why're you here?" she asked again.
"I was tracking," Willow answered.
"But I thought Stiles was at Eichen," Georgia would've run out by now, but she wasn't so convinced. She was led there for a reason. It didn't make sense.
"I was tracking you," Willow corrected herself, gesturing to the footprints left in the mud, "Scott and Derek smelled you at the Stilinski's, and the hospital," she huffed a slight laugh, "You were one step ahead of them."
"I lost his scent at the hospital," Georgia confessed, running a hand over her pony tail.
"Then what're you doing out here?"
Georgia paused, about to answer. She thought about the woods they were in, and why she was there. Stiles had to have been there too, it didn't add up.
Thump thump. Thump thump. A heartbeat. Georgia's eyes widened. She turned on her heel, running.
"Georgia! Wait!" Willow rushed after her, "Where're you going?!"
"He's here!" Georgia shouted back. She quickly zipped out of Willow's line of sight, this time having a sound to follow.
She stopped at the mouth of Malia's old coyote den. There was a strong, chemical smell from inside. With a grimace, she realize it must've been from the cops. Georgia removed her jacket, holding it against her face as she ducked inside. The chemicals made her eyes burn.
But there he was.
"Stiles!" Georgia shouted, collapsing to her knees beside him. He was asleep and shaking. She carefully grasped his arms, and suddenly he was thrashing and screaming, "Stiles! Hey, it's me. You're okay!" she cried out, wrapping her arms around him. His pale skin was cold to the touch, he wore nothing but pajama pants and a t-shirt.
Georgia was crying when Willow got there. Stiles was snapped out of his state of panic, slowly looking around, "Georgia?"
"I'm here, I found you," Georgia whispered, pulling her jacket around his shoulders and rubbing up and down his arms, "You're okay. I've got you."
She placed her hand on his cheek, swiping away any tears. She could feel the pain beneath her palm. It all began to leave Stiles' body, turning both of their veins black.
"Georgia, here," Willow handed over her jacket too. They formed a cocoon around him, trying to generate warmth.
"I knew you'd find me," Stiles voice was scratchy and raw as he stared up at her. He was pulled entirely on her lap, her body curled around him like a protective armor. Her wet tears slid down her face and landed on him, but he didn't care.
"I've got you," Georgia promised.
"Hello?" a voice called from the opening. They all turned just as Agent McCall and Melissa entered, "Georgia?"
"He's here," Georgia called, quickly rubbing the back of her hand across her face. She didn't want them to see her crying.
"How'd you find him?" Rafael asked, bringing over a thermal blanket meant to treat hypothermia.
Georgia and Melissa shared a glance.
"Let's just get him out of here," Melissa suggested lightly.
"Willow, help me carry him," Rafael gestured to the boy. Georgia didn't realize they knew one another, but didn't question it as she defensively brought Stiles closer to herself.
"I've got him," she countered.
"Kid, I—"
She cut him off when she effortlessly scooped Stiles into her arms, beginning to carry him. Rafael's jaw fell open as she made it look like nothing.
From outside the cave, Stiles was able to stumble along, using Georgia as a crutch. Agent McCall's car was used to bring him to the hospital where they rushed him in and off to a room.
Georgia was able to breath normally at last, placing her palm over her forehead. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally.
"How do you know Scott's dad?" Georgia asked, if only to take her mind elsewhere.
Willow shrugged faintly, "Around town. And once I became a lawyer, we overlapped in a few court cases. Him being an agent and all."
Georgia nodded in understanding, "I'm gonna stay here for the night. I can't leave him right now."
Willow rubbed her back up and down, "Do you want me to stay? I can work on my current case from here."
"No, I'll be okay," Georgia forced a small smile, "Go get some sleep. And thank you, for tonight," she took a moment to really garner the weight of her words, and then she pushed back any doubt, "I love you, Willow."
The older Ray daughter was stunned by the confession, her body freezing. She thought about the last time Georgia truly said she loved her. The day that Willow left Beacon Hills, Georgia thought she was only going to school. She'd grinned and waved at Willow on her way to the bus, wishing her a good day and saying she loved her.
Back then, Willow was her favorite sibling. It wasn't exactly a secret, either. The girls got along much better. Nate was too moody and angry all the time, and he yelled at Georgia a lot. He'd gotten so mad he accidentally pushed her down the stairs at the mall, only two weeks before Willow left.
Georgia was angry at Nate, obviously. She refused to speak to him, claiming he was evil. She was just a kid, after all. It made Willow leaving all the harder. She knew how much Georgia admired her, and she left anyways.
But Willow wasn't that selfish eighteen year old anymore. She didn't even feel like she same person who locked Georgia up and electrocuted her. Willow had matured a lot in a short span of time, becoming more and more of a big sister.
"I love you too, kid," she smiled, "Go make sure your boy's okay."
It was so similar to something Nate would've said that Georgia felt tears in her eyes. It'd been an emotional couple of hours.
She nodded, and then she walked off to where Stiles' room was. She had to wait in the hallway until they were done doing their check up. Georgia leaned against the hard wall before slowly sliding down it. Her knees were propped up, covered in mud. She couldn't find the will to care.
Fast footsteps came thumping over. Georgia turned, seeing it was the Sheriff with Scott and Lydia.
"Georgia," Noah called, speeding up when he saw her. Georgia carefully stood.
"Hey—"
The Sheriff had wrapped her in a hug. His arms, clad in his police issued jacket, held her closely to his chest. Georgia relaxed, hugging him back with a lighter touch.
"Thank you," he said quietly against her messy hair, "Thank you for finding my son."
Georgia squeezed her eyes closed, forcing away any final tears. She'd done enough crying for one night. She nodded against the Sheriff's shoulder, "You're welcome, Sheriff."
He released her, giving her shoulder a last squeeze before going to check on his son. In the meantime, Scott approached her with a heavy gaze.
"Are you okay?" he asked in concern. Georgia pressed her lips in a tight line, nodding again.
"How'd you find him?" Lydia asked, shrugging off her jacket and holding it out to Georgia. The strawberry blonde had noticed the way she shivered.
"I don't know. I just. . ," she struggled to put it together, "I followed this imaginary path. I don't know how to explain it."
Scott hummed, cupping his hand on her arm, "You did good. If anybody was going to find him, it'd be you."
Georgia didn't have a response. She went to walk past them, "I'm gonna go check on him," then she recognized the haze to Lydia's face, and halted, "It's not your fault. If your banshee instincts told you to go to Eichen, it was for a reason."
Lydia stared back, dejected with glossy eyes, "But Stiles wasn't there."
Georgia sighed, hugging her, "Don't beat yourself up. You haven't been wrong yet, and I'm not convinced you are now. Something pulled you there."
They separated, and Georgia returned the jacket. She walked off to Stiles' room, passing the Sheriff. She entered, finding him asleep in a hospital gown. Georgia and Willow's jackets were both hanging on the door. She pulled on her own, but left Willow's. She'd bring it home later.
For now, Georgia sat down in the chair by Stiles' side. She stayed there, back rigid, and stared at the way Stiles continued breathing.
She didn't need sleep. She needed to make sure Stiles was okay.
The moon continued its path overhead, slowly trading placed with the warm sun. Georgia didn't move once, aside from to the bathroom once. Aside from that, she wasn't letting him out of her sight.
"It was the other day."
Georgia heard Melissa and the Sheriff right in the doorway, but didn't react or move.
"I asked him some questions. Just symptoms, and um. . ," Melissa trailed off. The business of the hospital occupied the pregnant pause. Georgia's brows drew inwards, not understanding.
"Yeah. It's okay," the Sheriff spoke next, "I think I, uh, I think I know what you're talking about," he pulled out a little notebook, showcasing the exact symptoms Melissa was bringing up, "I've been writing these down for the past two weeks. I think we need to do some tests."
"What tests?" Georgia had finally stood and approached the duo. Her arms crossed over her chest, her jacket abandoned.
The Sheriff let out a deep breath, pocketing his notebook, "Do you know what happened to Stiles' mother?"
Georgia didn't like where this was going, "She had a brain condition."
"Frontotemporal dementia," Noah nodded, "It—well—it presented in Claudia very similarly to how Stiles has been acting lately."
Georgia didn't say anything at first. Her head was spinning faster and faster, making her feel dizzy. She didn't realize she'd swayed until Melissa caught her arm.
"Hey, sweetheart," she said softly, frowning, "Have you eaten? Gotten any sleep?"
"Yeah, yeah," Georgia lied, blinking against her dry eyes, "I'm okay. I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it," Noah tried to comfort, "We're just gonna do some tests. Don't get all worked up yet."
Yet. As in she would have to soon. Georgia didn't know how to react or what to do. She wasn't a doctor, she had no idea what this form of dementia was like.
All she knew was that his mom died because of it.
"I'm gonna go sit down, if that's okay," Georgia muttered, feeling weak. Melissa nodded, giving her permission to go take her seat again.
As before, Georgia watched Stiles sleep. It brought her comfort, although she knew part of his rest was medically induced. She was terrified, honestly. She didn't know what she'd do if Stiles' brain was truly the reason behind all of this. Dementia shrinking her brain.
She sat there all day. She tossed the meals that Melissa brought her, unable to digest it. Georgia stayed with her legs crossed in that uncomfortable chair until Stiles woke up, and they were shuffled off to the MRI.
"I'm not sure I know how to pronounce this," the doctor was looking over Stiles' chart, and his birth name, "Or if it's not actually a misspelling."
"Just call him Stiles," the Sheriff said. Stiles was stood by the machine. Scott had arrived as well, right beside Georgia. Melissa was also there.
"Okay," the doctor turned to the teenager, "Stiles, just to warn you, you're going to hear a lot of noise during the MRI. It's due to pulses of electricity going through metal coils inside the machine. Uh, if you want we can get you earplugs or headphones."
Stiles waved a hand, "Oh, no, no, I don't need anything."
The sheriff stared at his son while the doctor stepped out, "Hey, we're just on the other side of that window. Okay?" he flashed a fatherly smile. Stiles nodded, patting his dad's arm. Melissa and the sheriff filed out, leaving the three of them.
Georgia was biting her thumb nail. All of her nails were nibbled down to nubs, leaving only reddened skin for her to pick at. She couldn't look at either of them, afraid the sobs would escape her throat.
"You know what they're looking for, right?" Stiles spoke gruffly, "It's called frontotemporal dementia. Areas of your brain start to shrink. It's what my mother had. It's the only form of dementia that can hit teenagers. And there's no cure."
Scott sighed deeply, suppressing tears of his own, "Stiles, if you have it, we'll do something," he turned to face his best friend, "Me and Georgia—we'll do something."
Stiles nodded, the two of them embracing. Georgia had to tip her head back and stare at the ceiling, too overwhelmed. Scott passed her on the way out.
"Things'll be okay," Stiles grabbed her hand, pulling her over. He could see the sorrow and pain all across her face. Georgia's lip trembled as she met his eye.
"Everybody dies, Stiles," she choked on his name, having to clear her throat, "Everybody around me. I won't lose you too, I can't."
"It's not your fault," Stiles cupped her cheek, smudging away the cold drops, "You're not the reason bad things happen and people die."
Georgia didn't believe him. She was fully convinced. Chaos followed her every step, lurking like a dark shadow. As soon as she was happy, and surrounded by people she loved, they too were sucked into the darkness.
"I'll be right outside," Georgia pecked his lips, giving his hand a final squeeze. She wanted to say she loved him, but she couldn't. Those words felt like a death warrant. Anyone who dared to love and be loved by Georgia was living on borrowed time.
Stiles nodded, letting her walk out the room. Scott held her hand as they watched Stiles be taken into the machine, and the doctor instructed him to stay still and prepare for the banging.
Only a few minutes in, Georgia heard something familiar.
"Derek's here," she said quietly, glancing up at Scott.
"How'd you know?" Scott asked curiously, not wanting to leave her.
"I just do," she shrugged, "Go with him. I'll stay here."
"You can come with," Scott offered, "You don't have to stay here, it's gonna be another hour."
Georgia smiled sadly, "We both know I can't leave."
Scott eventually went to see Derek, Georgia remaining with the doctor, Melissa, and Noah. She stood beside the father with her arms crossed, twisting her feet around nervously. She could hear all the loud clanging and banging of the machine perfectly clear, occupying all of her thoughts.
It took what felt like forever for the pictures to develop. Georgia would've thought with modern medicine they'd have a quicker and quieter method, but she was no doctor.
"See this?" the doctor pointed at the picture of Stiles' brain. He was directing their attention to an orange colored section on the otherwise blue print, "The tissue here and there. Both those spots are showing signs of atrophy."
Georgia's heart picked up speed. She didn't get it. She didn't know that word—she'd never heard it before. Yet her breath was knocked from her chest.
Noah sighed deeply, only suggesting the worst, "Atrophy."
"What?" Georgia insisted, growing anxious, "What is atrophy? I don't know what that is."
Melissa came to her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "It's shrinking in the brain, sweetheart."
Georgia felt faint. She might've crashed to the ground if Melissa didn't support her. She grabbed the woman's arm, but was careful not to squeeze in fear of snapping the bone.
"I'm sorry," the doctor said sadly.
He had it. He had the dementia, it was already shrinking his brain. Georgia couldn't wrap her head around it. Nothing felt real. None of it. Stiles couldn't have this deadly illness. She couldn't lose him, not after everything.
There was a loud spark far away, like an electric shock. The ground trembled and lights fluttered on and off.
"What was that?"
Melissa glanced around, frowning, "It sounded like a power surge."
The Sheriff slowly turned, looking inside the actual MRI room where the machine was. He jerked forward, "Where's my son?"
Georgia swiveled, hand clapping against her mouth when she saw the room was empty. Stiles was gone. All of them scurried out of the room, searching up and down the hall for him.
"Stiles?!" Georgia nearly screamed, desperate to find him. Why would he run off in the middle of the MRI? Nothing made sense anymore.
Georgia went to turn the corner, when suddenly she collapsed to the floor. She gasped in pain, clutching her chest. Melissa and the Sheriff ran to her, "Georgia?" Mama McCall exclaimed, "What is it? What's wrong?"
Georgia released a shuttering breath as she looked up.
"Isaac, he's hurt. Hurt bad."
Within the span of a minute, Stiles had disappeared into thin air and Isaac was severely injured, death right around every corner of Beacon Hills.
a/n
i wrote this hella fast & i'm feeling charitable so here you go
......next chapter y'all are gonna hate me... im apologizing in advanced and mentally preparing for the riots i imagine will ignite
you will be lucky if there's three seconds of joy the rest of this season. i've had this planned for so long & i am excited to write it out,,, but i'm not ready to be crucified
with that note! goodbye <3