Yours (Stiles Stilinski)

Chapter Forty Eight

"Malia!" I shouted, sitting straight up.

"Oh my god!" Stiles shouted, rubbing his chest. Scott snapped awake. "Jesus, Y/n— You just gave me a heart attack!" Stiles said. I let out a breath, and I looked around.

"What happened?" I asked. I was cold and my hair was wet. Stiles sighed, and helped me off of the table. I was wearing a fresh shirt, jacket and jeans. I looked down at my arm and remembered the coyote. I looked to Scott. "I think— I think her father is going to try to kill her," I said. I fumbled for my phone, and Stiles took my hands. I looked at him.

"What is it?" I asked impatiently.

"Y/n— You literally almost just burnt up from exhaustion and overextension, and you're already trying to get back out there," Stiles said. I rolled my eyes, pulling away from him.

"There's no time. He's going to kill her!" I exclaimed. I looked over at Scott.

"I already reached out to Lydia and Allison. They'll meet us there with Isaac," Scott said. I nodded, and Stiles gave Scott and incredulous look. "Stiles— We need Y/n to reconnect with Malia. If I continue having these stupid issues, we need a back up. You know I would never intentionally put Y/n in danger, but she can make that choice!"

Stiles shook his head, face palming. He looked over to me.

"Fine, but you're staying with me," he ordered. I sighed, and I nodded to Scott.

—

"Anyone else think we night be doing more harm than good?" Lydia said.

"We're trying to keep a father from killing his own daughter," I countered. Isaac raised a finger.

"Actually... we're trying to keep a guy from killing a coyote, who is actually his daughter... who we don't know how to change from a coyote back to his daughter—"

"Not helping!" Stiles exclaimed.

"Did you bring it?" Scott asked Allison. She nodded, pulling out the tranquilizer gun. I nodded, impressed. I looked over to Stiles, taking his hand.

"Let's go," I said. I nodded Lydia over to Allison and Isaac. I looked at Scott. "We'll meet you half way. Call if you find her— Just... Just take it easy on her, okay?" I asked. For whatever reason, when she had my arm in her claws in the locker room, I could feel everything she felt leading up to that point. It was terrifying. We trudged through the forest. Stiles looked over at me.

"How are you doing?" He asked softly. I sighed.

"I'd be doing much better if you didn't look at me every five seconds like I'm about to break," I said sarcastically. He rolled his eyes.

"You're right. I'll look at you every five seconds like you're about to implode, because you almost did," he retorted. I looked away, and he pulled me after him. I stopped for a second.

"Stiles— The doll. When she went after the doll, she had this sort of— protectiveness about her. Like, it was more than a doll," I said. He stopped and tapped his chin.

"So, it's the only thing she remembers from her childhood?" He asked. I shook my head.

"That would come with more of a possessive feeling. It was like the doll was someone important to her— Do you have that picture from her house?" I asked. We walked forward and he nodded.

"You're right! It's her sister's!" He exclaimed. He called Scott. "Scott? It's me. You got to call me back as soon as you can. It wasn't Malia's doll, it was her sister's. Malia left it at the car for her sister. It's like bringing flowers to a grave, okay? And we stole the flowers. So, that's all she's trying to do, right? Bring the doll back to the grave, to the car wreck. That's where she's headed-- the car wreck."