It's Just a Pull

XLII

After your father calms down enough to help you get Stiles onto the couch and elevate his feet, he puts you back in your chair in the kitchen and sits down across from you.

"So, who is this kid?"

"He's my soulmate, Dad."

"Yeah, I figured that much, (y/n). But who is he?"

"Well..." you stop for a minute. "Technically he doesn't exist right now? Like I can tell you who he was, but after being taken by the Ghost Riders, he doesn't technically exist on paper? Or in anyone's brain but mine, I guess?"

Your father looks down at his coffee, then over at the liquor cabinet longingly. "Well then who was he?"

"He's Jordan's boss's son. His name is Stiles Stilinski, and yes, 'Stiles' is a nickname. His real first name is something very Polish that requires practice to pronounce, so... Stiles." You laugh softly to yourself for a moment. "He's got ADHD and is really bad at taking his meds regularly, so it comes through more often than not, but he's the smartest person I know other than Lydia, and I genuinely think he could do really great things for the world if he weren't so busy saving Scott's ass. He's sarcastic, and snarky, and the funniest person I've ever met. And he is so, so bad at lacrosse but he's on the team."

"I'm not that bad," Stiles mutters, "I'm on the team."

"Hey," you say, smiling up at him. "How do you feel?"

"My head is pounding. How do you do that all the time?"

"Lots of practice and a genetic predisposition for it. But the fact that you pulled it off at all speaks a lot more than anything I could do."

Stiles is swaying a little bit in the doorway.

"Come sit down," you tell him, standing up and offering him your chair. "Let me get you something to drink."

"When are we heading back?"

"Back?" you echo Stiles, hand stilling on the handle of the fridge. "Stiles, as long as we're here, we're safe from the Ghost Riders."

"We have to go back and help."

"I know, and we will. But not until the pack remembers us."

"Why would they forget you?"

"Because our souls are entwined. Because the Ghost Riders couldn't write in a valid reason for me to be in Beacon Hills without you. So, I got transported back here and everyone at home forgot us both."

"We have to go back."

"And we will. But not until we can be sure that we're not going to just be resetting this problem over and over again. The longer we're away from Beacon Hills, the more time we have to plan."

"So what are we waiting for, exactly?"

"Lydia. Or Jordan, but Lydia is more likely. I protected her bonds to both of us the best I could, and Jordan can't forget me because I'm his sister."

"How long do you think that will take?" Both Stiles and your father ask at the same time, then look at each other in shock.

"Well, I'm going to call Jordan and get the ball rolling. I might call Lydia to try to activate her latent memory, but I don't know how well that will work."

"How are we going to get back to Beacon Hills? How long is that going to take?"

"We're on the East coast now, Stiles. And since you don't exist on paper... we don't have the option of flying."

You step around the kitchen, placing Stiles's water on the table as you pull the curtain back to peer out at the driveway.

"Stacy's here, at least," you say, and your father actually laughs at that one.