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 [OS] Back to Black
990 POINTS EARNED
202 POSTS MADE
Stiles could feel the blow even before it even hit him, silly as it may sound. Almost as if his body was preparing for what to come. But when the blow actually did land it was like he was being pulled into pieces . No panic attack or nightmare, or paralization could even come close to the pain working it’s way through him. He tried to stay on his feet, to continue protecting his friends, no his family. But as he felt the blood trickle down from his torso to the ground he also felt his strength leave him. And soon the boy that had once stood tall, fell to the ground. He gazed up at the ceiling, hearing the sounds of fighting all around him, feeling the deep wounds in his side spill his blood. He wondered briefly if when you died your senses heightened, or maybe you just were more aware of them. That would pretty cruel right? The only time you really can use your senses is when on your deathbed.

And that’s where he was, a deathbed. He could feel the life leaving him as his friends continued to defend themselves. He should be there, doing his part of the plan, but he had tried to be a hero. Well not really, he just panicked and moved. He had seen the guy coming at his friends from behind while he was preparing the circle, and it was like his body moved before he could stop it. Putting himself between the enemy and his friends, and ultimately ending his life as he knew it. It was worth it, to know he had helped keep them alive in some way. He hoped Lydia could forgive him for it.

He closed his eyes as he thought about Lydia and felt his heart break. He wouldn’t get to tell her goodbye , or see her smile. No more laughter, no more late night movies , no more kisses, or holds, or intimate moments. They would be gone in a few short minutes. He wished he could see her again, maybe just one last time. But she wasn’t there, everyone had agreed she shouldn’t be there, for her safety. Now he wished that she was, maybe she could tell him why he felt so cold all of a sudden.She had a knack for that, always being so smart. He liked that about her, liked how she was so much smarter than him. He had no idea how he had gotten so lucky with her, but he was thankful for it. Or rather he had been thankful. He had to get use to past tense verbs, with the whole dying thing going on.

He could feel his breathing start to struggle, though he didn’t try to stop it. It would just be more pain than anything else. He’d much rather just think about the good things in his life. Like Lydia, and his friends. He hoped his friends would be okay without him. He knew they didn’t know how hard he tried to help them, and sometimes even being right with his theories and plans. Or how behind the scenes he had helped more than they thought. He didn’t really mind now that he thought about it, it was a little childish of him to want someone to see that he tried . Maybe at the time he just wanted to be like one of them.

When they were back at home he was always like an outsider looking in. It felt like they were all one big family and he was just that one guy who came over for dinner sometimes. He had worked so hard to be more than who he was, to be someone that could join their family. But in Italy he had felt something different. He had worked hard to better himself, but more for himself then for them. But he didn’t realize that everyone else around him also were trying just as hard as him to better themselves and in doing so, he became something more. He became a better friend, a family member and someone who belonged.

And that’s why he had risked it all for him, no matter the cost, they had become the family he had always wanted. He had lost his such a long time ago he never thought he would have them back. His mother had died , and with her his father had died a little too. He had been alone so long, and he had to admit that he had died everyday he had to relive the horror of seeing his mother’s death. He had panic attacks, nightmares, was silent for a year, but then he met some people. Some of them nice , some of them not so nice, but in the end they were the people to shape him into who he was.

Stiles coughed a little ,feeling some sort of liquid come up with it. If he had his eyes opened he would've seen the dark red liquid staining his lips. A lung must of been punctured when he was hit. That was okay though it meant it would be over soon. At least the pain part of it.He didn’t know why he was so cold, and a bit sleepy. In fact the floor was beginning to feel kinda really good. Almost like a nice bed he could almost fall asleep. In fact a nap sounded really nice, maybe Lydia would be there when he woke up.

Right when he could feel himself start to slip off into his nap , he could feel someone on him. Touching him. And then slapping him in his face jerking him back to his near death state. He coughed more, moaning in pain while doing it. He tried to look at whoever was next to him or on him, he couldn’t tell , but his vision was starting to blur. He closed his eyes and groaned. He could hear whispering somewhere, and then sobbing from another place.He thought it was weird someone was crying. Who would cry for him? It was probably the crying of their enemies, that must be it.He felt someone with soft hands lift his face and then a pair of legs now under his head. They kinda smelled like Lydia, like strawberries. He could feel his tense body start to relax as he leaned into the hand. Even though he knew it wasn’t possible , Lydia couldn’t of known he needed her, but he would pretend that it was her.

He could feel someone poking and moving around his wound. He couldn’t help but cry as the pain grew with each touch. The person holding his head made gentle ‘shh’ sounds while someone else grabbed one of his hands. He could feel them take some of the pain away , but the wound was far too deep to get rid off. But it was nice of them to try anyways. He whispering increased in volume until he heard one sweet sounding fragment enter his thoughts.

“Do it”

Then he felt it, a new pain ripping through his skin. Like teeth tearing a piece of flesh from him. He let out a loud scream , feeling several other hands holding him down as he tried to pull away from the pain. His sobs filled the room as his pain increased . Why did they do this, were they trying to get it over with? Did they not want him so much that they want to add pain?

Stiles heart rate increased his breathing turning into hyperventilating . What was happening to him , why did it feel like his skin was being pulled back together. Like his bones were fixing themselves and organs stitching themselves into the right spot and function. It was when he could feel his breathing start to become easier that he understood what had happened. They had bitten him. They had turned him. This pain was the pain of his body fixing itself. He opened his eyes took up , his vision enhanced so much he could see the dots on the ceiling without squinting or anything. He moved his eyes to look at the person holding him , to see Lydia’s tear stained face. How she got there, or how she knew to get there, he didn’t know or care. All he could care about was her. She was so beautiful, so perfect, so...his. She was here to hold him once more in his time of need.


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