Heads high, y’all, heads high. Here’s MY new theory: these final six episodes are an exercise in bad absurdist theater. That is, they are a WASTE OF TIME in which characters do a bunch of completely unmotivated stuff that is basically offensive. I would just clonk everybody on the head and turn them back to their normal selves. (All right, to be honest, I would clonk everybody on the head simply to justify using the word “clonk” several times.) ANYWAY, ignore it all for a second and come play with me: here is the final part of our activity in the Bedroom. Previous actions occurred in part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4,and part 5.
“Okay, so the note fell out of Claudia’s program from the play. What does that tell us?” Myka asked.
“That this is divine,” Helena said, and kissed her again.
She had Myka backed up against the open doorway. And she was bestowing each kiss, she had explained, as a reward for making progress on figuring out the artifact.
Myka’s new theory (she was still aggressively not thinking about Claudia’s, though she had to admit, if only to herself, that all this kissing was weakening her resolve a little) was that Helena would kiss her after anything she said, regardless of its relation to the artifact. So she tested it. “Oranges are orange,” she said.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Do you think your dad would mind me staying at your’s for a while?”
“Um, I’m sure he would love to have you, but why do you wanna stay at mine? You have a perfectly good bed at your house.”
“The house now occupied with a certain FBI agent I would rather not talk to right now.”
“Oh. Then yeah. Yeah, of course. I mean, you would’ve been able to before, it’s not like we would’ve banned you from the house but I understand so, yeah. Where are you?”
“Outside.” You told him sheepishly as you saw the curtain of the front room pull back.
You waved as you leant against your car, your backpack strapped over one shoulder. The phone hung up and you could sense his eyeroll as you walked up the path to the front porch. As you treaded up the stairs, the door swung open.
“It’s a good thing we love you.”
“It’s a good thing you do.” You teased.
“Dad, is it cool that Y/N stays over for a couple of nights?” He shouted through the house.
“Yeah, sure. Why?”
“Her Dad.” Stiles stated.
“Of course. Tell her she can stay as long as she wants.”
“Thanks Sheriff!” You shouted before bounding up the stairs, looking at the board of red lines connecting to each other.
“Still no luck?” You asked him.
“No. No. Nothing seems to make sense.”
“You’ll figure it out.” He turned his head to look down at you, and you did the same.
“You always do.” You told him as you walked backwards, jumping on the bed and leaning against the headboard as you began to talk with him again.
“So, remind me why you hate your Dad again?” You sighed, and began to unlace your shoes as you told him:
“My Mum has been in the shit for years, and I hate to admit that. She’s always working and always tired because she’s having to earn for two kids and herself, keep a house up and running, put food on the table. He just picked up and left and hasn’t given my mother a penny since he did. Then, all of a sudden he turns up and wants to play happy families again because it’s not how it works. And then he thinks he can earn sympathy because he accidentally hurt his own son and used to be an alcoholic. I mean, I’m happy he got over it but will saying sorry bring back 13 years we spent alone?” You ranted, not realising how much you needed to get that out.
“He trying his hardest Y/N. You know that.” Stiles whispered quietly.
“Well maybe it’s a little too late for him to start trying his hardest.” You muttered and lay back on the pillows as Stiles joined you.
“If I ever did something like that? Would you forgive me?” You turned your head to look at him.
“Leave. Would you forgive me if I left?”
“Yes. If you had a reason. And said goodbye.” You shrugged.
“But I know you. And you wouldn’t do that to me. Right?” You asked.
“Right.” He confirmed, holding up his hand for you to wrap your pinkie around his.
Although it may seem like something for little children, your pinky promises to each other meant everything. It had started with silly little things. Promise to wait for me outside the school gate or promise I get to pick the film tonight but it soon occurred to you both that none of the promises were broken. For example, for years Stiles made you promise -
He’d never leave you behind.
Not alone in the dark, not when you were crying, not when he could be risking his life. He never left you and you never left him.
The night Scott was left alone in the woods, you made a pact. No man left behind. Look what happened the first time you left Scott, he got bitten by a psychopath and made into a werewolf.
“Now, what pizza are we ordering?”
Scott heard your laugh as soon as you walked through the school doors, running away from Kira to where he found you laughing as you walked with Stiles.
“Where the hell have you been?” He almost yelled, getting strange looks from a few people.
“Wow, 10 seconds, that’s record time.” You smiled at him as he gave you a questioning look. To say he’d been worried was an understatement and you knew it.
“I just- I needed out. I’m crashing at this idiot’s.”
“Call me an idiot again and you won’t have a place to crash.” Stiles commented as you smirked at him.
“Okay. Let me know next time, yeah?” He said as you pulled him in for a hug, patting him on the back.
“Promise.” You said, pulling him by the waist and grabbing Stiles as you began to lug them down the hall.
“So what do we have first?”
“Do one of you mind pushing me in front of a car?”
“You know you love me?!”
“Do you wanna let me borrow a flannel until I can convince Scott to bring over some more clothes?!”
He sighed, flipping the pancake over in the pan.
When you came down the stairs, Stiles couldn’t help but notice how adorable you looked in his clothing. The sleeves were rolled up to your elbows, the top few buttons undone as the bottom went down to the middle of your thigh, resting against your jeans.
“That’s not fair. If I knew you would wear my shirt better than me, I wouldn’t of let you wear it.”
“Well, he’s only stayed for the maximum of 3 days before, I didn’t expect him to stay for more, so I didn’t pack anymore.” You said, hoping the heat resting on your cheeks wasn’t obvious.
“Now eat up. Don’t make me eat all the pancakes by myself.”
“You know, Malia mentioned the strangest thing to me today.”
“She said I smell, no, stunk of you.” He mentioned on the jumpy ride home in the jeep.
“Well, it’s been about 5 days, so it’s probably not a surprise. I mean we’ve spent nearly every spare second together so, what else would she expect?” You asked as he shrugged.
“I dunno, but something seemed off about her. Almost like she was irritated.” He mentioned.
“Probably because you haven’t been spending time with her since you don’t trust me and think I’m going to burn down the house.”
“Look, you were the one who left the cake in the oven-”
“That was one time!”
“You don’t have to read out stage directions Stiles.”
O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine!
To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne?
Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show
Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow… Really?” He asked as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.
“I’m pretty sure Shakespeare didn’t write that in his play.”
“No, but he did write:
‘O, let me kiss
This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss!” He told you sarcastically.
“Sorry, I would have Scott practise with me but Dave is relying on me for his drama assignment.”
“You do realise he only gave you this part because of his massive crush on you?” You turned away from the boy draped on the bed and crossed over your arms, the doorframe suddenly becoming then most interesting thing in the room.
“Do you not think it’s because I have a talent? That I’m a good actress?”
“No, I’m pretty sure it’s just because he almost gets a boner every time he sees you.” He chuckled as you sniffed and wiped away the tear that leaked from your eye.
“No. You’re.. right, it’s stupid to think I might actually be good at it, that it could be something I was passionate about, I just…” You uttered, while grabbing your jacket off the bed, starting to walk out the door.
“Shit, shit, Y/N! Hey, hey.” He said grabbing your hands by the stairs and pulling you into his chest as you took some deep breaths to calm yourself down.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, you know I didn’t. Anyone would want you on their project, it’s just he was extra-eager and it’s obvious and….” He sighed, placing his cheek on the top of your head.
“I didn’t mean that. You’re great Y/N, and you can do it, you really can, I’m just a fuck up.”
“No, it’s my fault. I’m just being stupid. It’s just the more I tell people I want to go into it, the more they belittle me and then I think that maybe they’re right.”
“Hey, listen here, you should follow your dreams. You are the single most determined person I know and you shouldn’t let anyone tell you different.”
“Okay. Thanks Stiles.”
“No problem, but you owe me front row tickets to your opening on Broadway.” You sniffled and laughed at him.
“Deal. Now c'mon, I want to hear that I’m a goddess some more.”
“Well done in that scene Y/N. You were fantastic.”
“Thanks.” You smiled politely, going to pick up your script and bag.
“So, I was wondering if you wanted to go get a milkshake?”
“Oh, is everyone else coming?”
“No.” He smiled, a grin that made you slighty uncomfortable.
“Look, Dave, the thing is-”
“Hey, you ready to go? My Dad’s on the night shift which means we get takeout.” You silently thanked the heavens that Stiles had cast his arms over your shoulder, giving Dave a look as if to tell him to back off.
“Yeah, sure. See ya David.” You turned and walked out of the auditorium still gripping onto Stiles.
“Oh what would I do without you?”
The last thing you expected was to wake up in Stiles’ arms.
The Sheriff must’ve put the laptop away when you two passed out, your cheek on his chest and his arm around your waist, legs intertwined as soft snores escaped his mouth. But the thing was, you didn’t want to move.
Something about it felt so right, so good, and you didn’t want to wake him. He looked so peaceful, you haven’t seen him this at ease in a long time.
The innocent sleeping face reminded you of so many things, like the Alpha, the Nogistune, how much he’d been through and how he’d kept a promise throughout it. He never left you behind.
In so many years, you could never repay him, how much kindness, how much bravery he had shown. To him, you were never Scott’s little sister. You were Y/N. Just Y/N.
You began lightly tracing on his shirt, just at the side of his stomach. You felt him stir and looked up to find him staring down at you.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you. I know how cranky you get when you get woken up.”
“I do not get cranky.”
“You so do.” You smiled, finding him smiling down at you, realising the sudden contact of your skin.
“We have to get up.”
“But it’s so comfy.” He groaned, throwing his head back onto his pillow.
“But we will be murdered if we miss school, by both my Mum and your Dad.” You pointed out, neither of you moving from that position.
“I’m up for murder if you are, deal?” He asked, causing you to laugh.
“I’ll gladly be killed, but the last thing I want is for you to end up dead as well.” You said in a playful tone, but as you pushed your body up the bed to come eye to eye with him, you noticed the concerning look he gave you.
“Don’t say that. Never say that.”
“Like you’d sacrifice yourself for me.” He said.
“But I would.” You whispered.
“You shouldn’t have to think like that. I don’t want you to think like that, do you know how it would feel to have your blood on my hands?”
“But it wouldn’t be on your hands, it would be my decision.” You breathed.
“Just promise me… Promise me you won’t ever do anything so reckless and stupid to save me.” He held out his pinky and you stared down at it before looking back up at him, staring into his eyes.
“I can’t promise you that Stiles. Just like you wouldn’t be able to promise me the same.” You told him, your heartbeat increasing as his eyes gazed down to your lips.
“Jesus Christ, just kiss already!” You both jumped back from each other to find Malia standing in the doorway,
Stiles standing from the bed.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to know that I’ve been right all along. What did I tell you Stilinski, you’re just joking yourself.” She went down the stairs, leaving you staring at Stiles.
“Stiles, what the hell did she mean?”
“I think she just broke up with me.”
“I meant about joking yourself.”
Before you knew it he was a stumbling, stuttering mess. You knelt on the bed and grabbed his shirt, pushing his lips onto yours, clamping his hands on your waist as your fingers found their way into his hair. You ripped away from him, breathing heavily.
“Is that what you meant?” You asked breathlessly.
“Yeah. Spot on.”