Way-back-when. Art with no place or a remembered purpose. Continue reading “Random Fanart”
Fandom[s]: Teen Wolf
Characters: Claudia Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski.
Relationship[s]: Sheriff/Claudia, Claudia & Stiles.
Content Rating: G
Warnings: Mentions of PTSD & Mental Illness, Canon Level Violence, Character Death.
Summary: The problems about truth is, there is no one side; Stiles has struggled with the notion of truth for some time now.
Notes: Messing with the Time line and Character deaths. Canon deaths up to Season 3. Assume everyone lives until you read otherwise.
The thing about truth is, there is no one side; Stile’s had struggled with the notion of truth for some time now.
Really, he had struggled since the untimely death of his mother. Because with his truth, there was only one side available. His mother would never be there to discredit, disavow or discern the real lie.
And the truth as he knew it? Was based on the biggest lie he had ever told.
November 6th 2004
‘Mrs T came to visit today. She was asking about you Mama, wanted to know when you getting out. She staid for a little while, I mainly think she was just using it as an excuse to corner Papa. Papa’s been working a lot lately; well not lately, ever since you came here. He doesn’t talk to me anymore Mama. It’s like he’s not here. I overheard him the other day talking to old Mrs Jensen, they were talking about you Mama, about how your getting better and how nice it’ll be when you come home. He was lying. And I don’t know why. Why is Papa lying Mama?’
Stiles sat holding his mothers hand whilst she sat staring out of the window. The room had changed slightly since his last visit; the curtains had been replaced, flowers no longer adorned the one table. Small difference as well. The lamps had been removed, and replaced. The same but different. The white walls looked impossibly whiter, but there was no smell of fresh paint to account for it.
It didn’t really matter Stiles thought to himself. Not really.
‘I finally talked to the new kid today Mama. His names Scott McCall, his Mom works at the hospital. He has asthma so he’s inside with me and Cora at recess. He’s a potato. A cute potato, but still a potato. I like him though. Cora thinks he smells funny. But everything smells funny to Cora. Mrs T says Cora’s just con-trair-ree. I don’t know what that means but it sounds like something Cora’d be’
Stiles decided sitting was getting to dull, so pulled on his mothers hand until she stood. Guiding her to the door, he then to stock of the hallway outside. Not to many people came to this side of the building; making sure she had her cardigan and slippers on, he pulled his mother to the double doors opposite her room.
Barely making a sound the two made their way to the lawn on the other side of the doors. Finding a spot almost perfectly in the centre of the lawn, Stiles tugged on his Mothers hand until she sat.
‘Is this better Mama? I think this is better.’
For the first time that evening his Mother looked at him directly and smiled.
‘You are such a sweet boy Genim. A sweet fierce little boy. My little warrior. Don’t let anything change you.’
‘Change me Mama? Nothing can change me.’
‘The tide is turning Genim, it’ll be your turn soon’
Claudia fell silent again. Stiles knew he wouldn’t hear another peep from her for the rest of the evening. It was almost like she had a quota a day. And today’s had been fulfilled.
Confused Stiles did what he always does. Find a distraction. For the rest of the evening before full dark descended, he nattered on. Keeping his Mama up to date on the coming and goings of their small little town. Chains of daisy garlands adorned them both before the evening was over.
‘Son! Son?! Where are you?’
‘Out here Papa!’ Stiles called out.
Sheriff John Stilinski stepped out onto the lawn. He looked around at the other patients before focusing back on Stiles and Claudia.
‘It’s time to go. Bring your mother in and say goodbye’
That said, the Sheriff turned around and made his way back inside.
‘Come on Mama. Let’s go.’
He met his father at his mothers room. He had turned down her bed and lowered the lighting to a more comfortable setting.
Leaving them to it. Stiles called ‘Goodbye Mama!’ knowing she wouldn’t respond.
Making his way down to reception, Stiles became more despondent with each step.
At 8 years of age, Stiles knew that he was more mature than his peers; but sometimes he just wants to throw himself onto the floor and scream, sob and pull the same type of tantrums he sees other children throw.
Finally he made it to the BHSD cruiser parked outside. Opening the door, he sat himself down on the passenger and proceeded to play with the radio. He knew he shouldn’t, but maybe his Papa would talk to him, even if it was to shout.
December 15th 2013
Over the interim years Stiles had grown into a vicarious young man, shouldering responsibilities way above his age.
The werewolf drama had been escalating over the past year and a half. Scott had come into his own, but at the expense of others. The True Alpha bullshit had not made his ‘best’ friend a better person; morality wise he had always been the better half of their relationship. But now?
Now Stiles didn’t know his brother anymore. They had slowly lost touch as Stiles’ more viscous side shone through, as Stiles lost faith in Scott always having his back.
Derek had taken Boyd, Erica and Cora up north to recuperate; Isaac wouldn’t go, preferring Scott and Alison over his original pack. Peter was still hanging around, but Chris appeared to be keeping him in check. Derek had left him a letter, it was what he needed. To know that someone appreciated him, that he wasn’t as worthless as he felt. Now his nightmares taunted him with the prospect of Derek not returning, of his Father finally admitting to not caring and of Scott finally leaving.
Then the Nogitsune moved in, slowly taking over Stiles. And Stiles had let him. Maybe not consciously but he had definitely wanted to take a back seat from all the drama. And now he was here. Without his best friend, without his father and without even an inkling of ‘pack’. He had been discarded as a liability; Scott didn’t trust him and his ‘new pack’ had fallen in line.
Stiles had been a at Eichen House for three days know. Pretty out of it for the first two he had not thought to explore. The black outs had receded and the Nogitsune had been dormant since Dr Deaton had poisoned him.
He now watched the inmates, trying to discern the human inmates from the supernatural. He had noticed Malia creeping around the edges of the room and Meredith was still listening to the dead phone.
The split was approximately 70-30 in favour of the ‘mundane’.
Stiles gave up watching the patients; he now followed the orderlies and doctors. The change over was every two hours with a 5 minute window of chaos, where the patients were left unsupervised. He knew within the next 20 minutes it would be time to take his ‘meds’ and 20 minutes after that… He would make his move.
Same Day – 45 Minutes Later
After leaving the common area and avoiding the orderlies, Stiles made his way to the south side of building. Muscle memory lead him through the twists and turns of the building. The long hallways lead onto other long hallways before finally he came upon a generic door; opposite a set of doing double doors stood ajar.
Looking out he sees a green lawn. And in the centre of the lawn sat a familiar person. Making his way over, he noticed the strewn daisy chains spread in various states of decay.
It had been along time coming.
Finally reaching them, he sat down crossed his legs and filching a few flowers he proceeded to make his own chains. After five minutes he stopped, taking in a deep breath he finally turned and spoke.
Smiling she leaned in, resting her head upon his shoulder.
‘Genim, my little warrior.’
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