"Fanfic Frenzy: A Collection of One Shots"

"Echoes of Comfort: A Pack's Support"

As the McCall Pack gathered at Derek's loft for their weekly meeting, the atmosphere buzzed with a mix of excitement and tension. Stiles, usually the lively and talkative pack mom, sat with a hand pressed against his temple, his face contorted in discomfort.

"Stiles, are you okay?" Scott, the True Alpha and pack leader, asked with concern evident in his voice.

Stiles let out a groan. "Extreme level headache, Scott. Like, the kind that makes me wish I could just crawl into a dark hole and never come out."

Derek, the stoic and protective pack dad, immediately shifted his focus to Stiles. "Do you need anything? Water? Painkillers?"

"Just darkness and silence," Stiles replied half-jokingly, though his discomfort was evident.

Lydia, the brilliant banshee, narrowed her eyes as if analyzing the situation. "It's probably stress-related. You've been juggling a lot lately, Stiles."

Allison, with her keen intuition honed from years of hunting, nodded in agreement. "She's right. You've been burning the candle at both ends, Stiles."

Derek nodded in understanding. "We'll keep it short today. Stiles, if you need to step out or lie down, don't hesitate."

Stiles managed a weak smile of gratitude. "Thanks, Derek. You guys are the best... even when my brain feels like it's about to explode."

Scott placed a reassuring hand on Stiles' shoulder. "We're here for you, buddy. Always."

As the meeting progressed, Stiles did his best to contribute despite his pounding headache. The pack, understanding and supportive as ever, made sure to keep the discussion brief and focused, allowing Stiles to excuse himself when he couldn't bear it any longer.

With understanding nods and supportive words, the McCall Pack continued their meeting, their bond stronger than ever, even in the face of headaches and hardships. As Stiles retreated to a corner of Derek's loft, seeking solace in the dim light and quiet, the rest of the pack continued their discussions. Scott led the meeting with his usual determination, supported by the insightful input from Lydia, the tactical suggestions from Allison, and the occasional gruff but valuable insights from Derek.

Meanwhile, Stiles closed his eyes, trying to block out the throbbing pain in his head. He focused on his breathing, trying to find a semblance of calm amidst the chaos of his mind. The scent of the loft, a mix of leather and wood, provided a grounding sensation that helped alleviate some of the discomfort.

Just when he thought he couldn't bear it any longer, a soft hand landed on his shoulder. Stiles cracked open an eye to see Malia, his werecoyote love interest, looking at him with concern.

"You okay?" she asked in her straightforward manner.

Stiles managed a weak smile. "Just a killer headache. Nothing new."

Malia nodded in understanding. "I get those sometimes too. Want me to stay with you?"

Stiles felt a surge of gratitude towards Malia. Despite her blunt nature, she always had a way of showing her support when it mattered most. "That would be nice," he admitted, leaning into her comforting presence.

As the meeting drew to a close, Scott approached Stiles and Malia, his expression filled with empathy. "We're wrapping up, Stiles. You holding up okay?"

Stiles nodded, grateful for Scott's concern. "Yeah, thanks. I'll survive."

Scott gave him a reassuring smile. "Take it easy, okay? We can handle the rest."

With a final nod of gratitude, Stiles watched as the pack dispersed, each member offering a word of encouragement or a supportive pat on the back as they made their way out of the loft. Left alone with Malia, Stiles finally allowed himself to relax, knowing that he was surrounded by a pack that would always have his back, even in the midst of a raging headache. As the pack meeting came to an end and the loft emptied out, Stiles leaned back against the couch, still feeling the remnants of his headache pulsating through his skull. Malia stayed by his side, a comforting presence that eased some of the discomfort.

"Thanks for sticking around," Stiles said, his voice still carrying a hint of strain.

Malia shrugged nonchalantly. "No problem. I'm not going anywhere."

Stiles couldn't help but smile at her loyalty. "You know, for a werecoyote, you're surprisingly good at this whole comforting thing."

Malia rolled her eyes playfully. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Leaning closer to her, Stiles whispered, "It definitely was."

Their quiet moment was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Scott appeared in the doorway, concern etched on his face. "Stiles, how are you feeling?"

Stiles rubbed his temples wearily. "Still not great, but I'll survive. Thanks for asking, Scott."

Scott nodded, his gaze shifting to Malia. "Thanks for staying with him, Malia. I appreciate it."

Malia shrugged again. "No big deal. He's my boyfriend, after all."

Scott grinned. "Right. Well, let me know if you need anything, Stiles."

With that, Scott left the loft, leaving Stiles and Malia alone once more. Stiles sighed, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him. "I think I'm just gonna lie down for a bit."

Malia nodded in understanding. "I'll stay with you."

Together, they made their way to Derek's bedroom, where Stiles settled onto the bed with a grateful sigh. Malia curled up beside him, her presence a comforting warmth against his side.

As Stiles closed his eyes, he felt a sense of peace wash over him, knowing that he was surrounded by a pack who cared for him deeply. With Malia by his side, he drifted off into a much-needed sleep, the pain in his head slowly fading away as he surrendered to the embrace of darkness.