Stiles Stilinski

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WEAPON

Flashbacks of things he did when his mind, body and soul were controlled, and the memory of his mom’s death were what triggered it. Just after midnight, pouring rain outside. He didn’t want to do this anymore. He wanted it to stop. He hated it, he hated the feeling, he hated himself.

Shaking hands had pulled the gun from the drawer in his father’s room. Pale, tear-streaked, haunted face was reflected in the bathroom mirror as he put it down on the countertop to pop the lid off his bottle of pills and poured the entire contents into his palm...

[ 100 Drabbles Progress Table ]

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SMOKE

Stiles had lit up a cigarette exactly once in his life and he had ended up coughing so much, it felt like he was dying and subsequently got laryngitis for a week (which was probably cause for celebration for those close to him). He had never told his dad, and now, the second time, he had no intentions of telling him again.

It was late, he was sitting on the hood of his Jeep alone, lighting up the cigarette from the pack he had. This time he didn’t choke, and this time, it might not be his only one either.

[ 100 Drabbles Progress Table ]

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ESSENTIAL

If there was one thing essential to putting Stiles back-on-track to being himself, it was a Star Wars marathon. It had been a must whenever he was sick in the past, and that hadn’t changed now.

This time, it wasn’t just with Scott. It was with Scott, Isaac and his dad while Lydia was with Scott’s mom in the kitchen helping her make chicken and veggie soup. Stiles’ attention was taken off the movie briefly for him to glance around at the scene and for the first time in months, he could believe that he was going to get better.

[ 100 Drabbles Progress Table ]

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GREEN

Stiles didn’t know why the grass at the cemetery was always so green, but he was glad it was. He didn’t come here very often anymore, but everytime he did, he was glad his mom had a beautiful place to be laid to rest... even if they said goodbye far too early.

He never said anything. He never knew what to say to a headstone. Instead, he just put some fresh flowers at her headstone and sat cross-legged at the foot of her grave, and this time, he hoped she wasn’t watching over him and seeing how bad he looked.

[ 100 Drabbles Progress Table ]

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STORM

A storm hit after lunch and it would have been making out weather. Instead, Stiles was sitting huffily in the armchair across the living-room from Isaac in the wake of their first lover’s spat.

He was making a full event of it too. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, jaw set rigidly with a huffy scowl on his face. He was also pointedly avoiding eye-contact entirely and pretending to be intently interested in the program on TV he actually had no interest in at all. Until one of them relented, it was going to be a loooong night.

[ 100 Drabbles Progress Table ]

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APPLE

It was really early in the morning, but it had been a rough night. After Isaac’s bad nightmare, neither managed to get back to sleep. Once the sun was up, Stiles coaxed Isaac out of bed and led him downstairs to sit him down at the kitchen table.

He didn’t know if Isaac would be hungry or up to eating, but that didn’t stop Stiles setting to work making apple pancakes, a recipe his mom taught him when he was a child. He knew they were awesome, and even if Isaac wasn’t hungry, at least it was a distraction post-nightmare.

[ 100 Drabbles Progress Table ]

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BRIGHT

When Stiles woke, he was so hung over, just opening his eyes small cracks felt like the bright lights were laser beams being shined right into his soul. His feet were hanging out the door of the tent, he wasn’t in his sleeping bag, and he had his underwear on his head. Not to mention the fact everything hurt, and just the small rustle of his hand against the floor of the tent sounded like foghorn loudness. Sick. He also felt epically sick.

This was about the time he wished his own demise and swore he was never drinking again.

[ Progress Table ]

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RETURN

Stiles had chosen return to the hospital for a complete physical and repeats on the scans he had when his dad and Mrs McCall were concerned his behaviour was because he had inherited what his mother had died from. Turned out, he was just possessed by an evil Asian demon. No big deal or anything.

He was concerned that maybe his health might still be a problem. The ordeal left him physically, mentally and emotionally taxed. And now, lying on the MRI bed waiting to go into the tunnel, he was feeling sick with fear they might show bad news.

[ 100 Drabbles Progress Table ]

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EMOTIONAL

Stiles sat on the back steps alone, scooping up a couple of rocks from the ground to absentmindedly toss them into the nearby bushes. Today had been emotional. For some reason, his patience had been worn thin. He had been in a foul mood and lost his shit at anyone who was in his presence.

He had been through too much, and maybe it was foolish to think he would just be back to normal after getting sleep. It was going to take time, and he hoped in the meantime, he didn’t drive all his loved-ones away being an asswipe.

[ 100 Drabbles Progress Table ]

DAWN

The small stream of pale light coming through the crack in the blinds signalled the dawn. Isaac had stayed with Stiles all night where they spent the hours reconnecting, overshadowing some of the painful and horrible memories with something that they both needed.

Now, lying in bed naked and entwined with Isaac lying with him, Stiles was the most at ease he had been in a long time. His leg was nestled between Isaac’s and with Isaac’s fingers feathering softly through his hair. And after fighting it for days on end, Stiles eyes slipped closed and he was finally asleep.

[ 100 Drabbles Progress Table ]