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Normally, therapy sessions were one of Ash's favorite activities in Eichen House. In his defense, there weren't anything remotely enjoyable compared to this. Naturally rather than spending a day tied down to a bed, he preferred to just talking, hearing unusual stories from extraordinary people.
Even since he was a little kid, Ash had a passion about hearing new stories. Until the time he was able to read, his father used to read him books for hours. However Ash's favorites were those stories his dad made up by his own, mixing his real life with imagination. These were kind of a ritual for the two, his mother was already terrible at making her own tales, and it was just special for them. Surely the amount of time his dad was spending on telling stories to him decreased over the time when he learned how to read. But they never stopped completely.
Therefore, every time someone started sharing their stories, even how absurd and unrealistic they sounded, Ash paid close attention. All his life, they had told him that he had a colorful imagination. When he was little, this adjective sounded like a blessing, something that his parents were proud of. For the past few years, it started feeling like a curse because according to all these people, he was not just imaginative, he also had difficulties separating real life from his imagination.
That was what they've been telling him, that's why they didn't even let him touch a pen and paper. Every time someone didn't believe in him, something inside him broke. Listening to all these people was a way of helping others, letting them know that Ash was believing in them.
Therefore, therapy sessions with Ms. Morrell was one of his favorite way of making friends and spending time in general. But not that day.
That day, a significant someone was standing three people away with a confused and exhausted expression on his face. On the other hand Ash was confused too but he was also utterly terrified and slightly giddy inside.
After all Ash and Stiles Stilinski were in the same room, breathing the same air.
People were talking all around him and for the first time in so long, Ash was not paying attention. At all. His mind was occupied with several thoughts, he zoned out as he rested his chin on his closed hand, leaning forward on his seat.
Normally, he would've been plain happy because finally one of them was here - obviously besides Malia since she was just getting in to the story.
However he was freaking out inside not just because it was Stiles, also because he hadn't written this scene yet. How could that happen? The whole point was the fact that he knew everything before the time of occurrence. Sometimes he started writing just before the McCall pack started living that moment, sometimes he wrote it way earlier.
He never wrote it afterwards.
"Ash!" The blue eyed boy raised his chin the moment he finally realized all eyes were fixed on him. Malia was the one to poke him a little by his right side and she had a confused look on her face.
"What was the question, Ms. Morrell?" Ash chewed on his bottom lip as he leaned back, he glanced at Stiles for a second and his cheeks flushed when he realized he was watching him as well.
Forcing himself to look at Ms. Morrell, Ash tried to shook his thoughts off, focusing on that particular moment. "I asked our new friend, Stiles, a question." Brief second the attention swept on the hazel eyed boy, Ash watched his discomfort very closely before all the heads turn to him again. "The question was; 'how does guilt make you feel?' His answer was, nervous. Would you mind sharing your opinion too?"
The elder woman asked with tenderness in her tone on the other hand her eyes were watching him intensely, making him feel on the edge. "Why do you think I feel guilty?" Ash blurred out quickly, the topic was making him utterly uncomfortable for no apparent reason.
"Feeling guilty is a healthy response Ash. Does anyone know what we call someone who doesn't experience guilt?"
"Sociopath," His old roommate, Oliver answered in an instant while Ash sighed in relief thinking that the spotlight was off of him.
Although, he quickly understood that he celebrated early when Ms. Morrell turned her piercing gaze on him again. "That's right, Oliver. And we all know you are not a sociopath, Ash. I would appreciate it if you try to find an example or just try to describe how it makes you feel."
Ash started digging his nails inside off his palm as his breath quickened, he didn't want to do that. A couple of words fell out of his mouth but they all sounded gibberish, sweat started appearing on his forehead. When he skimmed through the crowd he saw the pity in their eyes, I made him feel even worse than he already was feeling. "I-I can't deal with guilt properly. I don't want to feel guilty"
Finally he managed to create a sentence even though his voice sounded shaky and he had started moving uncomfortably on his chair.
"Then you do feel guilty, right?"
"I did feel guilty before." Ash almost whispered to himself, his head was hurting and his heart was beating out of his chest. "I don't feel guilty anymore. I didn't do anything. I didn't..."
No one dared to speak as he kept on repeating the same words over and over again, rocking back and forth on his seat. Ms. Morrell stood up and walked towards him slowly, not making any moves that will scare Ash away. She put her hand on his shoulder and gave a little squeeze. "It's okay, Ash. We believe you."
He stopped in an instant and wiped the tears out of his face with a blank expression on his features.
For a moment, Ash felt a deep hole in his chest, close to his heart. As if something was missing, something felt like irreplaceable. The boy was used to this feeling or he made himself believe that it didn't hurt that much anymore. Like everyone who is constantly in pain trick themselves in to thinking they are okay, and then they become numb to it over time.
Ash's coping mechanism was a bit different, he chose to forget everything and forgave himself in the process, all just for the sake of not to feel guilt.
That aching gap never left his mind or his heart, or his dreams.
The blue eyed boy pulled himself together in an instant, it even seemed impossible. Surely, for Malia it was a typical behavior of Ash, whenever someone tried to get him out of his bubble, he would lose himself until people let him go away without opening up. Although for Stiles, it was extraordinary how one minute he was close to having a panic attack and the next minute he had a big smile that reached his bright blue eyes, no one would suspect that those eyes held a lot of agony inside.
Meanwhile Stiles had an odd feeling that he saw him before, he didn't exactly remember where but there was just an image of Ash's eyes starring in to his, long before he ended up in Eichen House. It was similar to the concept of feeling like you were forgetting something important, and the answer was right there. His itching neck was keeping him away from focusing, maybe he would've remembered despite the uncomfortable need of scratching but Ash choose that exact moment to stare back at him.
Ash was pretty surprised to catch Stiles' gaze on himself, it was for a brief second since the hazel eyed boy snapped his head in to the opposite direction the minute they held eye contact. He also realized Stiles was looking slightly in pain as he tried to scratch his back.
"Sorry guys, we have to cut it short today. You are free to go." Ash's brows rose in confusion as a response to Ms. Morrell's world, the women was known by her punctuality, she was never late and she never went early. "Stiles, come with me."
Oh, this was about Stiles.
The minute they were dismissed Ash grabbed Malia's shoulders tightly and started shaking her lightly with wide sparkling eyes. "I actually did not wrote this before happening it's a first and -and he is actually here! I don't want to say I told you so but I told you so. Never mind, something else important is going on and I think Ms. Morrell knows something and I need to find out what." He inhaled a deep breath and kept going, ignoring the confused look on the girl's face. "Come on, let's go!"
He tried dragging her with himself but she resisted despite his effort. She was obviously a lot stronger than him. "Please Ash. I feel overwhelmed right now. Let me take a bath and we will meet and discuss after wards?"
Malia tugged a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled apologetically, besides her Bambi look, she looked genuinely tired therefore Ash let it slide for this time.
"Okay, I will meet you at bathroom." With that he raced off to find Stiles.
[...]
After eavesdropping on Stiles' and Ms. Morrell's little chat, Ash was off to meet with Malia.
It hadn't been easy for him to get near to a private conversation since he hadn't been sneaking around for so long. Before he used to do those stuff with a partner in crime and he was not around...
Regardless Ash had a nack of being in places he didn't belong to since he just gave people warm smiles and anyone was willing to believe he was harmless. He was not able to hear the whole conversation, he couldn't get that close, but the words Nogitsune and danger stood out. So Stiles was in need of help, Ash was willing to be there for him. With a sickening feeling inside his gut, he remembered that he was no longer the narrator but that meant he was free to interfere.
He just wasn't sure if he was ready to be a character just yet.
Trying to gear up his courage, he conjured up good memories, bits and pieces about taking a stance for somebody else. For a brief moment, he felt like himself before the world had turned his back on him. He vaguely remembered a version of himself who was kind but strong willed. Instead of this Ash who only know how to be soft, even if he had to be tough. He pushed that thought back into the far corner of his minds.
He got so distracted by his own chain of thoughts that he accidently went into the girl's room to check on Malia when he knew that she took her showers at the boy's room because the water was warmer. Racing over to his destination, his steps slowed down when he heard two people talking.
"I need to get into the basement. Which means that I need to get the keys off of that orderly. The big one." He first heard Stiles' voice and when he took a glance from the ajar door saw that Malia and Stiles were actually being civil and having a conversation.
"Brunski."
"You help me, and I'll help you." Stiles said with a clenched jaw. Ash's mind wandered into thinking about how much Stiles' face altered with the added few years. Surely he still had a boyish frame but he had gained an intense look-
"I will meet with you at your room in ten," Malia almost spat out and brought Ash back into reality. Once she pushed the door open, spotting Ash by the door step was not an easy task since he was tanging by the door step rather obviously.
Thus, she found it completely necessary to grab him by the collar to pull Ash inside the boy's room as well. He couldn't tell if she was trying to engage him into the plan or was just scared that they were gonna get caught if she let Ash wander outside that door.
He made a mental note to thank her for bringing him into the play regardless. That feeling of a thankfulness vanished away as he stared at Stiles with lips slightly parted by the shock. Stiles raised an eyebrow like he did when he first landed his eyes on him earlier that day which made him blush just the same.
"Uh, hi! I am Ash and I want to help, too." Ash let the words leave his mouth in the speed of light which made Stiles even more confused.
Stiles eyes were a sweet light brown under the dim light and he seemed to be studying Ash, trying to predict his intentions. Well, Ash knew Stiles for more than a year now but Stiles didn't know anything about him. It was like meeting your favorite celebrity. You knew their entire life story to the smallest details and they looked at you as you were an alien. "I don't think you can-"
"With defeating a nogitsune that is slowly taking over you? " Stiles took a step back his expression hardening in an instant. "Maybe I can't throw a punch like Malia but I surely know a lot of stuff that you might want to know."
His words would've sound badass or even a bit threatening but as he smiled goofily and rubbed his hands like a kid. In fact Stiles was ready to ignore to fact that this total stranger knew things that he shouldn't have because everything inside in him wanted to trust this fragile looking boy as if he knew him all along.
[...]
AUTHOR;
yeah, idk. so here is a gif of tom holland dancing to umbrella
isn't this man beautiful?
SELF PROMO; i have a peter parker fic maybe check that out bye