*Stiles pov*
The torture that emanates from reliving both my torture and my abandon causes sobs to break from me the second I awoke. It was too much to soon for me to be able handle the torment I had experienced. My mind was racing, I had jumped into it without any concern about my reaction, the idea of being useful to the pack overpowered my logicality. It could've been empowering to face it once again, but there has never been a person who is grateful for being thrusted back into their trauma, no matter how much notice they get before.
What killed me the most was coming back to reality to find that Derek was gone.
Abandoned once again.
There was no energy left in me to fight, to go out and demand a reason for deserting me.
Instead, I got back onto the couch and tried to stifle my cries.
He doesn't want someone this damaged.
I sat there in silence for moments, dreading the idea of facing anyone at this point. My mind coming to the tantalizing fantasies about what I should do, about what I should've done from the start. I need a break from Beacon Hills, my father would do whatever to help me be happy and safe, even if it means getting away from the one place I've ever called home.
The little voice in the back of my head tells me I should want to be with friends and family after a traumatizing experience happens, but I can't find it within myself to desire it. I don't want them to know how broken I am, how numb I feel, how I am just a shell of emptiness that used to be the real Stiles.
I want to be able to build myself back up before the brokenness reveals itself.
Trying to stand, I feel blood rush from my head and sway dangerously on my feet. I try to put my thoughts together, my first priority should be the wound on my neck, so I start stumbling to the bathroom to stop the bleeding. I am struggling up the stairs when I hear it first. The front door, it creaks loudly as it's opened.
I sigh when I hear footsteps, "Derek, please leave. I don't want to talk about it now."
Chuckling erupts from my left and I whip around, taking in the picture now facing me.
The alpha pack surrounds me.
I set my jaw and keep quiet, they would speak if they needed too. I was right, their need to showcase their dominance has them all waiting frantically for a movement.
Deucalion steps forward, "You're stronger than I gave you credit for. We could use you later on, as leverage."
My tongue pushes into my cheek, a natural reaction from before my time in hell, an act of pettiness.
They gaze at me in wonder, who dares to act so willingly in front of an all powerful pack? I could answer for them; someone who survived the worst and is now using it to become stronger.
I shake my head and step back in need of space, they were sucking the oxygen out of the room. I can take a beating, but I can't handle a panic attack.
Ironic, isn't it?
They close in on me slowly, predators studying their prey. Every single one of the alpha's eyes were blazing bloody red, a promise of attack, with their fangs out and their progression of cornering me in the hallway.
The twins came first, reaching for me as though it would be that easy. I smack their hands down and elbow Ethan in the chest before spinning towards Aiden. Aiden steps aside to avoid my fist and grabs my arm roughly, spinning me into his chest and putting me in a chokehold. Aiden's arm constricts my air flow and my breaths become shorter and more sporadic as I try to kick him anywhere I can.
"It's no use, give in and become what you are destined to be." Deucalion growls out at me, his annoyance at my fighting obvious.
Aiden let's up on my throat slightly so that I can rasp out, "Go fuck yourself."
Not a wise choice, but a choice I made nonetheless. I would laugh if I wasn't four seconds away from death.
Each alpha comes to surround me in a closer proximity, biting me from every side. And then as if nothing happened, they were gone, and I was left writhing on the floor. I didn't recognize the screaming as my own until my throat became scratchy, it was a desperate and angry sound I didn't know I had in me.
I beat my fists into the floor, cursing the alpha pack for their added damage as well as the pack for never being there when I needed them the most.
It's always going to be me on my own.
Shaking my head, I army crawl to the bathroom. I had a first aid kit for this particular situation, I never thought i'd be using it. A howl rang out, shaking me out of my delirium and letting the pain finally overwhelm me. The feeling of blood filling my lungs was new and not a particularly likable feeling, but I couldn't move anymore. I heard my pack howl and shut my eyes, waiting for peace.
I felt that specific sense of peace before I heard another large bang and more footsteps flooded my home. My eyes fly open in panic, and I start crawling immediately. I cock my head to the side in confusion at the Alpha Pack's return.
They already said I was an asset to them, they're not coming to kill me.
My pack appears right as I cough, blood spraying on the floor in front of me. Lydia puts her hand to her mouth, maybe in disgust but more likely in fear.
Derek stops for a moment before he shakes himself out of it, "Scott, grab him and bring him to the bathroom."
Scott scoops me up easily and the two rush to my originally planned destination. They put me in the tub sitting up, my blood painting the white in a mesmerizing way.
It takes me a moment to recognize that Derek's speaking to me, that they're all talking to me.
Why can't I hear them?
I squint my eyes and try to focus but all that fills my head is a high pitched ringing noise, I don't like the ringing noise.
I mumble, "Make it stop."
Everyone stops moving and watches me carefully.
The ringing continues and I want nothing more than to yank my hair in frustration, but my arms seem to be more accessories than limbs at the moment.
I finally get the energy to scream again more frantically, "Make it stop."
They all look terrified, their lips are moving but no noise is coming out.
I scan the setting around me, "This is a nightmare. Stiles, it's a nightmare."
I keep chanting this until my head falls to the side, I don't know why I keep talking, it's not like i'm going to get a response. All I can do is close my eyes and pray for this nightmare to end.
Exhaustion took over me and I whispered out loud, just to know I still could, "I think i'm going to take a nap now."
Whispers break through the wall that kept me deaf, causing goosebumps to break out on my skin and I tilt my head up.
I give Scott a look, trying to keep strong for him.
My whisper was only caught because of his enhanced hearing, "Can I take a nap?"
Scott whimpers in response, his pacing picking up more now.
"Scotty," adrenaline is the only think keeping me up now, "it's just a nap. We can go to the fields after I wake up."
A small smile makes its way onto my face as images of me and Scott practicing, my brain presenting me with a small gift after all the shit that's happened.
Scott shoves my hands in front of my face, his desperation clear, "Count Stiles, please count. This is real."
I attempt to roll my eyes and stare at my hands, "One, two, thr-three," my head falls to my shoulder and my eyes close. I murmur to try and ease their panic despite the fact that I couldn't see my hands anymore, "ten fingers."
As I sleep I see a giant wolf. The wolf magnificent with it being a bright white like the moon, gold streaks intertwine with the snowy fur. Pure white claws and fangs show proudly, and the wolf's eyes are a glowing purple. The purple has red streaks dancing through them intricately, but the same word repeats over and over again.
Skooma.
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