chapter forty five
recovery
Harper was done with all of the emotions surrounding her everywhere she went. Scott had visited her twice, Allison hadn't bothered at all, Jackson was nowhere to be seen, and everybody else wouldn't leave her alone.
Stiles, Lydia, and Rose Verum had been smothering Harper so much that it had actually began to become suffocating. All Harper wanted to do was wallow in her own self pity, whereas Rose wanted her to help pack to take her mind off of things, Stiles wanted her to be with him at all times, and Lydia wanted her to get a grip and act normal.
Harper didn't know if she'd ever be normal again.
It felt like such an angsty teen thing to say, but who could blame her after being held at gunpoint for hours on end? After being shot just like her parents had before they died?
It was as if everybody was treading on egg shells around her, and Harper wanted to scream. So that's what she decided to do.
When Stiles had been forced home for dinner by his dad, Lydia was at her house and Rose was sorting through what she wanted to donate and what she wanted to give Harper, the brunette Empath had snuck out of the house.
She walked for about three miles, her shoulder aching in its sling. Harper ended up by an oak tree in the middle of the woods and leaned against the trunk, her head rolling back as tears spilled down her cheeks.
"I miss you so much," Harper whispered, her voice breaking, "I wish you were still here. I need a hug,"
Of course, there was no reply- just the sound of the wind going through the trees. Harper pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them closer to her using her good arm.
She began to sob. Ugly, loud, belting sobs that would have scared anybody around her off. It was like as soon as she started she couldn't stop.
"I-it hurts," she cried out, "it hurts so much, mum. I wish you and dad were still here. I-I wish it didn't hurt so badly."
Her sobs racked her body, salty tears landing on the oversized hoodie that she had stolen from Stiles' wardrobe. It took about fifteen minutes for her to calm down into just sniffles and silent tears.
A twig snapped in the distance, causing her head to snap up. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she squinted, trying to see where it had come from.
Harper expected a hunter or a werewolf, so she was surprised when she saw a wild animal come out from behind a particularly large bush. Her breath hitched when she realised it was a coyote.
She shuffled back, her back pressed against the oak trunk behind her. The bark stuck into her back as it approached her, it's blue eyes lighting up like something from a movie.
"H-hi," Harper tried softly, not wanting to scare it or anger it, "if you could not kill me that would be great. I know I said some stuff about wanting to die earlier, but I would greatly appreciate it if-"
She was cut off by the coyote moving right in front of her before it's head leaned forwards and brushed up against her cheek. Harper's hands instinctively moved to touch it's head, although she was gentle.
She giggled slightly, hiccuping from all the crying she had been doing. The coyote's tongue came out and licked away some of the tears on Harper's face, causing the teenage girl to shriek slightly from both excitement and fear.
"Wow, I literally thought you were gonna take a chunk out of my face then, buddy." Harper giggled sweetly, stroking the coyote's face. "You're actually cuter up close, aren't you? Not as scary as I thought."
The coyote didn't reply, obviously, just nuzzling further up to her. It let out a breath from it's nostrils before slumping against her, it's body half leaned across her as it closed it's electric blue eyes.
Harper smiled slightly, forgetting about everything else going on her life as she looked down at the beautiful coyote. She continued to run her fingers through it's fur until eventually she fell asleep.
...
Someone shook Harper awake.
"What are you doing in the middle of the woods, Harper?" Sheriff Stilinski sighed, watching her worriedly, "you realise you can't just leave the house without telling anyone where you're going? Especially when you were shot only a week ago."
Harper winced at the reminder, pursing her lips. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I just wanted some space and I fell asleep."
Noah nodded, helping her up from the dirty ground. "Right, well... just let someone know next time, yeah? You had Stiles and your grandmother worried sick."
"I'm sorry."
"Harper!" Stiles cried, rushing over to the brunette, "why were you in the woods? Are you okay?"
He quickly checked her over for any wounds, apart from her shoulder of course.
Noah glared at his son, "I told you if you were coming to help look, then you would be waiting in the car, Stiles."
"Okay, but you never gave me specific instructions about staying in the car after we found her." Stiles smirked slightly at his dad, causing Noah to sigh loudly and roll his eyes.
The sound of Sheriff Stilinski's phone ringing caused him to excuse himself, much to his own annoyance.
"You two- in the car. Now." Noah instructed with a point of the finger.
The couple went back to the Sheriff's car, climbing in the back and turning to face each other. Stiles brushed some twigs out of Harper's hair and looked at her worriedly.
"Stop it," Harper groaned, "stop feeling so worried about me all the time, Sti. I can look after myself."
"What? I'm not worried, I was just-" Stiles squeaked, only to have Harper cut him off.
"Stiles, even if I couldn't feel all of your anxiety right now then I would know you were worried about me- I can see it in your eyes." The Empath muttered, "and you don't have to worry- or send your dad out looking for me when he's off duty. I was fine, and I still am fine."
"Harper, you're not fine." Stiles whispered, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek, "you were shot, okay? You're bound to experience some mental trauma after that, especially due to your circumstances. You haven't properly spoken to me in ages, and I don't know what you're thinking. I can't read minds like you can."
The brunette closed her eyes briefly, processing all of his words. Everything he had said was true, and she honestly wanted to tell Stiles everything, but she didn't want him to feel like he had to look after her- he was her boyfriend, not her babysitter. She reached out and touched his hand, pulling it away from her face to hold it.
"I saw a coyote." She changed the subject, her tone light, "it fell asleep on me."
Stiles sighed, realising he wasn't going to get anything out of her, but went along with her new subject anyway.
"Oh, what, in your dream?" Stiles asked.
Harper shook her head quickly, "no, no. In real life, Sti. I was just sitting under the tree and it came up to me. I honestly thought it was gonna eat me but it just began to rub itself against me, like a cat would. Honestly." She claimed.
Stiles' eyebrows furrowed together, "babe, I think you might have dreamed it. I'm pretty sure a freaking coyote wouldn't have tried to get you to pet it like a cat." He told her softly.
"Nu-uh!" Harper protested like a three year old, "it did, I promise. It had really blue eyes and it totally licked my face."
"Then you totally need to wash it." Stiles teased, deciding to play along although he was almost sure she had dreamed her encounter with said coyote, "c'mon, let's get you home."
He went to wrap his arm around her shoulder, stopping when he remembered her sling. Instead, he settled for wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer into his chest.
...
"They keep staring at me," Harper spoke softly, looking down at her hands in her lap, "as soon as I walked into school, everybody began to whisper. Lots of people thought it was just a rumour that I was at the Sheriff's station with Matt, but when I turned up with my sling everybody realised it was true."
Morrell nodded, "do you dislike this new attention? How does it make you feel?"
Harper swallowed thickly, "I despise it. I guess you could say I've always had a knack for feeling people's emotions... and I all I can feel is their pity. I hate it so much. I heard people talking about my parents, too, about how they died. They don't realise I can hear them."
"How do you feel about what happened, Harper?" Ms Morrell asked.
"I feel like screaming." Harper admitted shakily, "everything is going wrong. My parents are dead, my grandma is gonna die in the next couple of months, I was shot, everyone at school is talking about me, my best friend's aren't talking to each other... the only normal thing in my life right now is Stiles and Lydia."
"Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin?"
Harper nodded. "Stiles has always been there for me, Lydia too."
"You sound like you have great friends." Morrell commented.
"I do," Harper smiled slightly, squeezing her hands together, "they're great. I couldn't ask for any better people."
"How have they been there for you?"
"Stiles and Lydia have been there every step of the way. Isaac and Erica visited me before they went missing along with Boyd. I saw Scott a couple of times, but he has his own problems. Allison has too, her mum died the same night of Lydia's party, so she has been dealing with that. I want to be there for her, but she's pushing everyone out."
Morrell didn't say anything for a second. "Any positives that came out of the situation?"
"Stiles' dad got his job back, which is great." Harper told the woman, "but that's about it."
"What about Matt Daehler?" Morrell pressed, staring at the teenage girl intently, "he drowned that night. Do you feel empathy for him?"
Harper scoffed at her wording, "I feel... nothing. Matt stalked me for months, killed innocent people, shot me, and held my friends and I hostage. He was mentally sick, and I feel bad that nobody cared enough to help him, but that's it."
Morrell pursed her lips together, "what about ten year old Matt? The Matt that drowned in the pool- do you feel sorry for him?"
"Like I said, I feel nothing." Harper admitted, "and I don't know if that's good or not. Should I feel sorry for him? Part of me wants to, to be a good person, but I can't bring myself to forgive him or feel sorry for him. Just cause a bunch of kids shoved him in a pool at a party... that gave him no right to kill people. A kid was orphaned because of him. I hate him."
"Hate is a strong word." Ms Morrell noted, "and the boy seemed to quite like you."
"He was a psychopath who needed help." Harper spat bitterly, "and I hate him with every fibre of my being for making me have to endure that. The entire time I was thinking about my mum and my dad. He didn't care when he shot me, he laughed when he brought them up before threatening to shoot Stiles. I hate him so much for what he did. How he left me so mentally unstable.
I'm a happy person, you know? It's not in my nature to be negative. I love to be the peace maker of the group, the one that everybody looks to for some good advice or motivation. So I hate that he made me the depressed, anxious one of the group. I hate that he brought out my true colours and he doesn't even have to pay for it." Harper scoffed, "he's dead, he doesn't have to pay for anything."
"That's a very brave thing to admit, Harper." Morrell nodded towards her, "does it feel good to get all of this off of your chest?"
Harper shrugged, her tears spilling over as her voice cracked and her face scrunched up, "I just want to be happy, but this... this just feels like hell."
Morrell stared back, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, "then I'm going to tell you the exact same thing that I told Stiles less than an hour ago: "If you're going through hell, keep going."
...
"You excited?" Harper asked Stiles as she helped her grandma into the front of Stiles' jeep, moving to sit in the back.
Stiles sighed loudly, "it's not like I ever play."
Rose cooed, "aw, Stiles." Her bony hand reached out to pat the top of his, "one day you'll be able to play. I can have a word with your PE teacher, if you would like?"
Harper giggled, "it's not like that, grandma. High School is a lot different to primary school."
Stiles smiled in amusement, happy to see his girlfriend laugh genuinely as she looked at her through the mirror. He enjoyed watching her and her grandmother talk- which he had been doing a lot over the past week and a half since Harper was shot.
Stiles and Scott had found out that Rose was dying of stage four lung cancer when Harper was in hospital getting surgery.
Noah Stilinski and Melissa McCall had sat them both down outside the waiting room and told them as softly as they could, even getting a bit emotional.
Scott and Stiles were devastated. Rose had always been there for them as another mother figure, and she was going to die in the next few months. They also felt sorry for Harper- who would be left with no family once Rose was gone.
Once Melissa and Noah had left, Scott pulled Stiles aside to tell her that he already knew. Apparently, one of his powers as a werewolf was to be able to smell emotions, including illnesses. He could smell her cancer months ago, but he had no idea what it truly was until today.
Harper knew that her best friends now knew, but the three of them hadn't spoken about it. Nobody wanted to upset Harper, and Harper didn't know how to start. She didn't even know if she was coming back to Beacon Hills once her grandma died, which made everything a whole lot worse.
"But remember that time they wouldn't let you in the girls football club so I spoke to your teacher and they sorted it all out?" Rose smiled gently, "I could do it again."
Stiles scoffed slightly, "you did football?"
"British football, Sti, not your tackling, under arm rubbish." Harper rolled her eyes playfully.
The boy with the buzz cut held a hand to his chest as if offended, but quickly put it back on the steering wheel after.
"Don't worry about it, Rose." Stiles looked across at the old woman briefly, "I don't want to be on the team because someone pities me, I want to be on it because I'm good, anyway."
"Then you keep practicing, Stiles." Rose nodded, "and one day, you'll play. I promise,"
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I had my prefect interview today and it went really well yeahshbhshahssh
hopefully i get it!