Fallout ▷ Stilinski

Chapter 15. Compartmentalizing

"What are you doing?" Stiles chuckled as he rolled over in my bed, he propped his head up on his hands and smiled as he watched me scroll through an article on my phone. I let out a sigh, "Trying to find something helpful on here about Admonere's. It's like we don't even exist, there's hardly anything online."

"Well, Deaton did say that you are rare." he responded evenly.

Without thinking I exited the article and tossed my phone on the floor, "I'm so aggravated."

"Come here," Stiles said as he opened his arms up. I quickly slid in between them and laid my head on his chest. His right arm looped around my shoulder and his left was on my waist. I always felt safe whenever he held me like this, like nothing could possibly go wrong because this was the safest place on earth.

I let out a groan, "I'm about to give up hope on finding anything remotely helpful online. I've been doing research for over a year now, and the most I got was a paragraph about psychics that was remotely similar to my abilities."

"I'm sorry, Kase. Maybe you should ask Deaton if he has like, a book or something. I mean there's the Bestiary... did you ever look in there?" he asked as he pressed his lips to my forehead.

I nodded, "Allison and I looked one night. There's nothing."

"Well, I'm sure there is another Admonere out there somewhere... so there's got to be answers." he responded softly, his voice showing signs of him getting sleepy.

I was silent as I let him drift off into sleep, not wanting to bother him with my aggravation. I know there has to be answers somewhere, it's just a matter of where the answers may be. I'm sure Stiles will help me look, when he's not sleeping of course. I blinked a few times before settling in closer to him and closing my eyes. Sleeping with him was the definition of perfection.

I jolted upright in my bed as my dream came to an abrupt end. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest wildly. The vividness of my dreams is both a blessing and a curse. They feel so real that when I wake up I'm consumed with panic because I'm not in the situation that I had just been in. Granted, I wouldn't be in that situation anyway because I haven't spoken to Stiles since the Peter incident. I haven't been able to get a hold of Malia, either.

My throat was dry and I was sticky from the sweat on my forehead. I threw my covers off onto the floor and climbed out of bed. The house was eerily silent, and I managed to sneak downstairs without making a sound. Thankfully, someone had left the kitchen light on and I was able to get in without knocking anything over.

I could see a bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on top of the refrigerator and I contemplated on snatching it and taking a swig or two, but then I remembered what happened the last time I did that. I don't want to possibly end up calling Stiles and giving him a green light into my life so soon. So, instead I settled on a can of Mountain Dew out of the fridge. The time on the microwave indicated that it was 2:37 a.m. and I was slightly irritated that I wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep anytime soon.

I didn't have much of anything to do other than to sit on the couch and turn on the television. Nothing remotely interesting was on, so I just mindlessly watched the infomercials. Every bone in my body was telling me to call Stiles, but I can't. I just can't. And don't even get me started on Scott.

At least I can separate myself from Stiles, I live with Scott. I'm just as angry, if not more, with Scott than I am with Stiles. I can understand Stiles lying to me about Malia, because he understands how much I hate Peter... but Scott, he should've known that I would have been able to handle the news a hell of a lot better than they both were giving me credit for. Plus, I'm not the only one who hates Peter, Stiles hates him almost as much as I do, and he handled it perfectly fine with Malia.