DANGEROUS LIAISONS ◦ STILINSKI [2]

thirty three; there are no words for this

THERE ARE NO WORDS FOR THIS

"what do i look like? The Wizard of Oz? You need a brain? You need a heart? Go ahead. Take mine. Take everything i have - i have nothing to live for other than the infinite degree of numbness running through my veins"

​When she woke up she was confused. Her thoughts were hazy, still twisted up in dreams and nightmares; it had taken her longer than it should have to realize where she was. Carter's back was pressed up against a concrete wall. A large pulled of water was pooled on the solid ground beneath her and the ceiling above her had cracks sprawled across the cement where water was dripping through and splashing against her eyelashes. A flash of lightning brightened the sky; for a split second, she could make out several long scratches marred on the wall in front of her.
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She tried to remember how she'd gotten there, but nothing came at first.
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She did remember, though, getting into a sleek black car. The engine was loud as they raced across the black freeways at more than twice the legal speed. And she remembered seeing Stiles sitting in the front seat while she lied barely conscious on the dark leather backseat. Sleep, somehow, evaded her despite her lightheadedness; her aching eyes strained to stay open even though the night raged forward.

The bright bolts of lightning, streaking across the cloudless sky, stung her eyes. But she couldn't close them; when she did, the images that flashed all too vividly, like still slides behind her eyelids, were unbearable. Scott's broken expression – Paige's brutal and painful death – her father's resentful glare – the dead look in Stiles' eyes right before she had been taken...she couldn't stand to see them. So she fought against her weariness.
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Carter forced herself to her feet; the narrow hallway that was making her feel increasingly claustrophobic seemed to go on forever in either direction. The Were-Pheanix unsure of which way to go – the way that would take her to the exit, but she knew that she needed to hold onto the hope of making it out of that place alive. The tips of her fingers trailed along the damp, cement walls as she prepared herself to start trekking her way out. The shadows coming from the ends of the hallway slanted across the walls – defined, sharper than she'd remembered upon seeing them, darker than they should be. But, despite their darkness, nothing could hide in those shadows. She felt no relief, though.
​
She knew that she needed to do something; that she couldn't just sit there idle-like waiting for her friends to spontaneously show up and rescue her. Or worse, wait for the Nogitsune to appear and torture her further away from her humanity with his mind games. And in that moment, she knew that she was alone in this. It was all on her to get herself out.
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Suddenly, though, now that she'd chased the memories down, she had a vague impression of leaving her own car – the moon was shining brightly in the sky – her arm draped over Nogitsune Stiles' shoulder and his arm firm around her waist, dragging her along as she stumbled through the cold, dry shadows. She still had no memory of that place.
​
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she mentally prepared herself, taking in a deep breath before taking a bold step to her left. The ever-growing close proximity of the walls around Carter feel like they were bound to just enclose themselves around her at any given moment. She exerted herself to maintain control. She was determined not to lose herself at that point. There had been no point in indulging in more terror, more anxiety. Her path was set. She just had to follow it now.
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So, instead of panicking, she closed her eyes and spent the next few seconds thinking about him – needing the physical and emotional tether more than ever.
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Carter imagined that she hadn't been abducted by the Nogitsune and was still at the McCall residence. She visualized how she would be bouncing on her toes, visibly showcasing her nervousness. How quickly, how gracefully they would move through the air separating them. And then, with impatience, she would run to close those last few mere inches between them and she would be in his arms, finally being able to see him as himself.
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She could see his face so clearly now...almost hear his voice. And, despite all the horror and hopelessness, she was fleetingly happy, knowing that he –