It was the end of his shift, almost midnight, when Chris heard the call over the scanner for a suicide attempt in progress. The code itself sounded more dramatic than it was, for all they knew a driver had spotted a drunk kid on the abandoned bridge and assumed the worst, it wouldn't be the first time, and as concerned as everyone sounded when they called in these kinds of code, they never stuck around to see if the person was okay.
It was fine. It was on his way home. He'd swing by, talk the boy into climbing back over, like he has a handful of people before until he called it a night.
He never expected it to be anything more than that.
The Alpha pack has systematically attacked Stiles and his friends for months, testing their strengths and weaknesses. When one of the Alphas goes after Stiles, he awakens in the hospital and realizes that something's wrong. Very wrong. All sounds seem to hurt him, he can't understand what anyone is saying, and when he tries to speak, it's gibberish. How is he supposed to deal with the fact that he's lost the ability to communicate with his dad and his friends?
Without his ability to talk, his sarcasm, and his wit, what does Stiles even have left? Enter Derek, the only one who seems to make it better.
There’s not much reason to talk. Sometimes, if he’s quiet enough he thinks his dad forgets him. If he’s quiet enough, and he hopes, Dad will walk right by. Those are good days.
"It’s funny. It is. It’s abso-fucking-lutely hilarious because this is the seventh time in a calendar year that Stiles has been on the run from a bloodthirsty monster and the thing that still trips him up—quite literally—is that he still hasn’t gotten any better at running through the woods."
An AU where everything he loves gets buried in the dirt, so Stiles rips apart the space-time continuum.
"So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.
God, he dreams.
He dreams of fire and swollen bellies and that scene in Alien, of giving birth to jackals through his urethra, the whole horrific nine yards. His head is a terrible place to be, he can’t imagine his stomach is much better, why anyone would want to put a thing inside of it."
