TW - Just Nightmares - H/C: Alptraum/Halluzination (für mich)

[rolly-chan.livejournal.com]

Titel: Just Nightmares
Team: Erato
Challenge: H/C - Alptraum/Halluzination
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Charaktere/Pairings: Stiles + Sheriff Stilinski
Wörter: 1.150
Warnungen: Just to be safe - am Anfang wirds ein wenig blutig beschrieben. Oh, und das böse F-Schimpfwort kommt auch einmal vor.
A/N: Auf Englisch. Weil ich eine Kommentar-Schlampe bin und mir so auf AO3 mehr Kommentare erhoffe (und mich irgendwie an Englisch gewöhnt hab) *pfeif* Lalala. Weil mehrere Teile zu einem Kapitel gehören werden, erstmal nur hier ein Liedtext am Anfang (weil für jedes Kapitel eins und so). Ich liebe Liedtexte vor Fics, okay?

A certain type of darkness is stalling me

Under a quiet mask of uncertainty

I wait for light like water from the sky

And I am lost again

(Sea of Lovers - Christina Perri)

Stiles slithered over the linoleum floor, soundless like a ghost. The moon was in his back, casting almost translucent white patches of light over the walls, leaving everything else in nebulous shadows. They moved like the souls of the dead reaching for him, and suddenly a chill overcame him, making him freeze to the bones.

He knew he didn't want to be here, he wanted to go home or at least turn on the lights. So he turned towards the wall and pressed the switch there. It didn't work. There was only a spark at the end of the hall where a lone light flickered, flashes of red spreading from it like a warning. His heart started to thump in sync with them, both accelerating fast. Everything inside Stiles tensed and he pressed himself against the wall for support, but the shadows swallowed it and the next moment, Stiles was in utter darkness, only disturbed by flashes of red like blood exploding in his face. He flinched away every time but was unable to escape, trapped in nothingness.

Then he saw Scott with his familiar smile and encouraging glint in his brown human eyes. He was so close, and for fleeting moment Stiles felt relieved, because it was Scott, his best friend and brother, who would get him out of here, because Scott always saved the day. But then Scott's face contorted in pain, split-seconds before an icy dread caught Stiles, sending violent shivers down his body, but when he looked down, his arms and hands held steady, fingers curled around the cold shaft of a knife that grew into a sword at Stiles's eyes meeting the silver blade reflecting his own face. It displayed a cruel, twisted smile, with too much sadistic glee too much joy over pain, while Stiles wanted to frown but couldn't.

He wanted to pull back, take the sword out of Scott's stomach so he could heal, but his body didn't obey. The silver of the blade slowly turned red as it soaked up the blood, beading red and so prominent against Scott's ashen skin.

There was a twisted sort of pleasure in his chest, but at the same time Stiles was screaming, screaming, screaming inside his mind...

stop please stop

But his body still wouldn't obey, the feeling of excitement inside him growing at the same time and with the same intensity as the dread, and his body relished in the strangled moan escaping Scott's lips as Stiles twisted the sword, slowly, drawing squelching sounds

no please please stop don't hurt him

he pushed the sword a further inch forward and laughed as Scott wheezed, blood bubbling crimson at the corner of his mouth, his hands buzzing with a pleasure that made him so ill

don't please stop hurting him please I beg you

but it never stopped and he kept grinning and twisting the sword and Stiles wanted to cry and wished for something to just kill him so he'd finally stop hurting his best friend... and there was a voice talking in the back of his mind, a deep slur that was frighteningly familiar

Do not struggle against it, Stiles, it said, and then whispered, Everyone has it but no one can lose it.

The blade had completely turned crimson and when Stiles looked up into Scott's eyes, they flashed just as red, before they turned back to brown, then became unnaturally still...

... he threw himself off a mattress, there was a ringing noise in his ears and someone was screaming at the top of his lungs. Only when two strong arms wound around him and stopped his own from flailing did he realize that it was him who was screaming and that he had just woken from a nightmare. He shut his mouth.

"-iles, calm down. Hey... you're fine, it's okay," his father said firmly from behind him, still holding him tight. For a moment Stiles couldn't breathe and thought his heart would implode, but then he swallowed the slump in his throat and finally the pain in his chest subsided and he could take deeper breaths.

"It's okay, Stiles, I got you, you're fine," his father kept telling him, and Stiles willed himself to stomp back the panic attack crawling up on him. After a few more moments, he felt stable enough to give his father's arm a reassuring squeeze. He was still breathing heavily and his heart had yet to slow down, but at least he didn't feel like he'd die any minute now.

"'M fine, dad," he finally rasped out, his throat feeling very raw and he suddenly felt really thirsty, but his father squeezed him tight before hesitantly standing and helping his son to his feet. He looked at Stiles uncertainly, as if he didn't know what to do, and this time Stiles didn't know any better. He was admittedly still fuzzy in his head from sleep and his heart, though calmed a little, was still thudding out of control. It felt a little like recovering from kanima poison, and wasn't it just peachy that he knew how that felt.

"Just... need to sit down," he said finally and found himself being led to the bad and carefully pushed down on it, as if he couldn't have made the one step to reach it. He let it slide, though, mostly because he was more preoccupied with calming the fuck down.

"You okay, kiddo?" his dad asked and set down beside him, concerned look on his face, and it made Stiles feel guilty. The man had worried enough about him already. He didn't need Stiles to have more fits. So he forced a strained smile.

"Yeah, yeah... just a nightmare." His father gave Stiles's shoulder another squeeze at that and returned the smile. It was fortunate that his dad had known about the nightmares all along. Had known about them when they continued every night after the nogitsune was dealt with, until they became less and less frequent, decreasing in frequency at the same rate his body healed. But while they didn't plague him just as often any more, it didn't mean they were gone for good. And it wasn't beneath Stiles to use that fact in order to pacify his dad.

When his dad, sufficiently placated, left his room, Stiles noticed for the first time since he woke that it was already morning. Despite clouds hanging in the sky and obscuring the sun there was still some morning light filtering through his window, draining the color from the world and casting a layer of gray over everything. It was like Stiles was still in a dream. He shivered.

Because despite claiming everything was fine and it was just a nightmare... all his dreams about the nogitsune were pretty much real memories he relived. He had never had a disorganized nightmare like this about the nogitsune before.