“i haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks” stiles said. not for pity, just casually, as if it was know big deal. i, sadly, knew was the truth. before, during, and after the nogitsune, he would battle every night with terrors and nightmares, waking up yelling. so he decided not to sleep at all. you could say it wasnt obvious, because he really hid it well, and obviously didnt tell anyone. so i persisted for him to sleep over while my parents were away, since i was allegedly scared at home alone, which isnt a big surprise in beacon hills. so he did. i mean, at least he tried.
ever since the nogitsune took control of stiles’ body, he was restless. every last thing that *creature* did in his body played out behind his closed eyelids. every time they fell shut. so thomas barely slept— he did, as much as he could, but would always wake with his chest heaving and breaths short. not everyone noticed. maybe they did, but no one dared say anything, just stared at his fallen expression as if that could make it disappear. me and him, though.. we were close before, talking about stupid stuff in daylight and conspiring about the dark side of life in the dark. things shifted, obviously. we were still friends, best friends, but the deep stuff never felt real enough. sometimes, though, he would call in the night, words shaky as he tried to fight off a creeping panic attack, never with success. i always talked to him on speaker, listened as he succumbed to the darkness of his mind. he never told me about the reason, and i didn’t push, but at least i was there when he called. some nights, i was about to burst through his door, not even caring about the streets between us. tonight was one of those nights. the worst one i’ve encountered so far. i woke up to my phone ringing restlessly on my bedside table.
it was a normal day in beacon hills when all hell broke loose. sure, it was the home of the supernatural, but no one expected the outbreak of a zombie apocalypse. i was home alone, and the rest of the pack was home aswell. i tried texting the first days, but the lines were down. i had no idea who of us was alive and i was running low on food, so i had to go to try and find some. thankfully my car was filled with gas, so i barricaded the door and headed out for the closest supermarket, having a golf club and some kitchen knives as my weapons. the town was deserted and i had a hard time getting in through the automatic doors at the market, but i did. and people have definitely been there before me, since the shelves were almost empty. i walked around, trying to find anything useful, when i spotted a familiar face. stiles. my best friend before, whom i had not heard from since the start of everything. i almost call out to him and jump in his neck in excitement, when i notice something’s wrong.
hunger games au, with teen wolf characters and randoms. i was living a normal life in district 7. the chance to get reaped was always there, but it never worried me too much. well, it should’ve. i got reaped for the 73th hunger games. stiles was the male tribute from district 10. i saw him by passing during training, he always lingered close along with the girl from his tribute, a shy one, not of many words. i heard him call her malia a few times. i didnt really make any allies during training, but the games didnt wait. the arena seemed normal, with a forest on one side and some abandoned buildings on the other. only god knew what hid in there. it was the second night, i think, when i was walking in the forest, when i heard pained grunts from the treeline. i climbed on the highest tree i could find and observed. stiles, alone, with a gashing wound on his side. i waited for a while, but no one came for him, so i found it safe enough to climb down and approach him. the crimson blood was illuminated by the pale moonlight. his face was even paler, and his breaths were barely there.