the one where stiles goes missing

[ S2 0.9 ]

cold night air stung Eleanor's cheeks as she sat down on the lacrosse bench, her arms around herself and her breath heavy as she stared blankly into the lacrosse field. It was empty now, the contrary to what it had been an hour beforehand.

After Stiles' lacrosse debut, and with no further action to give Derek to Gerard, the old man took matters into his own hands. Making Jackson the diversion that seemingly everybody followed, Stiles was taken.

The very thought of her best friend being tortured or interrogated made Eleanor's heart plummet into her stomach, and the tears that had started to fall were becoming a waterfall of her own misery. She couldn't help but blame herself.

The scenery surrounding her was blurred with the intense lights surrounding the field and her salty tears, and so she jumped upon a hand briefly touching her arm.

As she looked up, she relaxed at the familiar face but turned away from Scott. He had just finished being questioned by a very desperate and heartbroken Noah, leaving Jaden to answer the last of his inquiries.

Scott sighed and joined Eleanor on the bench, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as she voluntarily rested her head on his. She cried heavier at the touch, her arms furiously shaking as he fingertips struggled to stop bouncing on her thigh, screwing her eyes shut as she tried to block out all her thoughts. Her empathy abilities had spiralled into something she had no real control over, due to her emotional instability, and so as well as not being able to connect to Stiles - she was having trouble with her own feelings.

The Hispanic boy squeezed Eleanor's waist, rubbing a hand across her knee as he turned to look at her. "It's not your fault, you know?"

"I could have kept a better eye on him, I could've done something before he was taken. I could've stopped it."

Scott raised his eyebrow at his best friend, shaking his head at the words she spoke. He disagreed with her completely, turning on the bench to face Eleanor, his arms still tightly wrapped around her.

"We all could have stopped it but, Eleanor, we didn't know it was going to happen like that." Scott said. "Stiles is a tough guy, he can hold his own for a while."

The brunette shook her head, wiping her tears furiously with the back of her hand. "For a while, yeah. But what happens if we can't find him? What happens when -"

"When we find him, Eleanor. Sheriff's working on it right now, and after Jaden is finished, we'll try and find him too. He's going to be alright."

Beating heart and frazzled mind, Eleanor sighed and nodded in conclusion. If they were to find Stiles, they had to do something, and fast. She wouldn't be able to do anything if she was sat on the side of the lacrosse pitch, drowning in self pity.

"Alright." She answered, huffing as she stood up from the bench, pulling Scott along with her. "Let's go find our Buzzcut."

...

was not something that Eleanor enjoyed. In fact, she only did the strenuous activity when it had something to do with her supernatural life, or when it involved her friends or family. Hence why the young Hale was sprinting down a very familiar street, her cellphone clenched in her fist.

When Eleanor had gotten the phone call from Sheriff Stilinski that Stiles had returned home, she didn't hesitate to leave the forest that she was searching and head straight to the Stilinski household. It took her all of three minutes to arrive.

Knocking rapidly, Eleanor's hands clenched one another tightly and she rocked backwards and forwards on the balls of her feet. Normally, she wouldn't bother to knock and she would head straight in, but considering everything that had been going on lately, she thought it would be best to knock.

Not even seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Noah, who smiled faintly at the girl in front of him. He motioned toward the stairs. "He's in his room."

He stepped aside, allowing Eleanor to thank him and bound up the staircase, following the trail to his room. She moved toward the door, her hands reaching for the doorknob as she unlocked the door, heading straight into her best friends room.

"Dad, I said I'm fine!" Stiles yelled, sitting up from his position on the bed to look at who he presumed was his father. His glare faltered when his eyes met Eleanor's.

She cleared her throat and looked down at her fingers. "Uh, your dad let me in."

It was silent for a second, the pair staring at one another, trying to muster up the courage to speak. Instead, Eleanor leapt forward and enveloped Stiles into a warm hug, sighing in relief as his hands gripped her waist and her head lay on his shoulder.

"I'm alright Nora." He mumbled softly into her ear, his hot breath fanning her as she sighed contemptibly.

She pulled away after enjoying his embrace, holding on to his shoulders tightly as she examined his face. He had a large scrape on his cheekbone, a busted lip and a small cut near his eye. All in all, he was hurt, and Eleanor knew exactly who had done it to him.

Without noticing, her eyes began to cloud and her hand moved to brush across his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey." Stiles raised an eyebrow and caressed her cheek much like she was doing to him. She leaned into his touch. "It's not your fault. None of this is your fault."

"But-"

"No 'but's. Gerard didn't take me to hurt me, he took me to hurt you, Jaden, Scott, everyone that cares about me. He's playing a game."

Eleanor glowered at the mention of the elder Argent, and she allowed the boy beside her to pull her over to the bed, sitting down next to one another as his hand covered hers reassuringly.

Stiles' phone at the edge of the bed made a loud noise, signalling a text message. Without hesitation, Eleanor reached forward and unlocked the device, widening her eyes upon seeing exactly who had messaged him.

"Stiles, you have seventeen missed text messages from Scott."

Stiles tried to give a lighthearted smile in return. "Uh, yeah I know. I just - I just haven't gotten the chance to answer him yet."

Eleanor raised an eyebrow and shot Stiles a pointed look as she set down his phone. She shuffled closer to the boy and rested the side of her head on his shoulder, intertwining their fingers as a form of comfort.

"Y'know, so much is going on at the moment. I wish we could just stay in your room the entire time and escape it all." Eleanor commented, looking down at their hands.

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows and nodded. "Then why don't we?"

"Because we have so much going on. And right now, now that you're safe and healthy and I know you're okay, I need to go and help the boys with Jackson."

The Aderall enthused teenager shot his best friend an exasperated look, standing up from the bed as he turned to face Eleanor. He crossed his arms over his chest and paced.

"Why? This whole thing is a nightmare!"

Eleanor shook her head. "My entire life has been a nightmare, Stiles. I couldn't care less anymore, if I can help him - I will."

"See! That's the problem." Stiles exploded, his voice overpowering and his eyes ablaze with frustration. "You - you don't care about getting hurt. But you know how I'll feel? I'll be devastated. Eleanor, I don't know what - what I'd do if you died. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Death doesn't happen to just you, Nora, it happens to everyone around you, okay? To all the people left standing at your funeral, trying to figure out how they're going to live the rest of their lives without you in it? Huh? And - and look at my face. Do you really believe that this was supposed to hurt me?"

Eleanor had seen this side of Stiles on rare occasions. It was a side of him that she would never get used to, and it was a side that made her stomach churn and her eyes sting. She hated it when he was mad at her, hated when he shouted.

By the look in her eye, Stiles took a step back and his expression faltered as he realised what he had just done. He stepped forward gently as she took a step back, biting her lip as he sighed.

"Nora, I'm so sorry-"

She shook her head, turning on her heel. "I'll find them myself."

"Nora! Hey, Nora wait!"

...

"left, huh?"

Stiles looked up to meet his father's gaze. He slumped onto his desk at the question, holding his head in one hand as he stared dumbfounded at the light before him.

"Yeah."

Sheriff moved further into the room, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at his son, waiting for him to elaborate. "So - uh, did you tell her?"

"No. No, she - uh, she's got a lot of other things going on at the moment."

"Listen - I know that getting beaten up, and what happened with Jackson has gotten you pretty shaken up. But be happy about two things, alright? The game. You were amazing."

Stiles almost scoffed. "Thanks, dad."

"No, I mean it." Sheriff pressed, moving to pat his son softly on the shoulder. "It was pretty much over. And then you got the ball, and you started running. You scored, and the tide turned. And then you scored again, and again, and again. You weren't just MVP of the game, you were a hero."

Stiles shook his head miserably, turning away from his father at the last word. He bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut. "I'm not a hero."

"You were last night."

Noah turned on his heel, walking toward the door as he finished his speech. Stiles coughed, and called his father's name. Half heartedly, the Sheriff gave a smile and raised his eyebrows at his son.

"What - what was the second thing?"

The smile Noah wore grew into a grin, his hand resting on the door frame as he gave his son a reassuring nod of the head. "You may not have told her, but you've got time. She's something special and when the time is right, you'll be together."

And for the first time since he had been taken, Stiles began to smile.

[ S2 0.9 ]