Walls, Masks and Plaid Shirts (Book One of the 'Plaid Shirts' series)

The shadow in my thoughts, the shadows that scream in the night - (Stiles POV)

At 19:43 pm I pulled into the parking lot to the station, I took a deep breath, squeezed the wheel, released the breath, squeezed my eyes shut, another deep breath, dropped my hands and opened my eyes, released my breath and at 19:45 pm I picked up my back pack and swung out of the jeep making my way to the front door of the station. The door opened on squealing hinges and a small bell went off to inform the woman at the desk that someone had entered. "Evening Trish, my Dad in the back?" I added extra enthusiasm to the words as they passed through my grin. Trish smiled back and replied in a voice that was smooth as silk with a slight southern drawl, "Yeah, go right on back", I winked at her as I walked through the door leading to the Sheriff's office and she chuckled shaking her head and looking back down at her paper work.

I entered the sheriff's office to see may Dad sitting behind his desk typing on his laptop furiously, "Careful pops you might brake the poor machine" I chuckled out. He continued to type whatever he was on and shook his head before harshly bumping one last key and looking up at me. "What can I do for you Stiles" I spread my grin further, trying not to show the slight burn that his words gave me. "I made ravioli and dough ball for the pack, saved some for you, here" I took out the two containers in my bag and put them on the small table by the door so he could pick them up on this way to heating them up. "Just give them a buzz on high for 3 minutes and that should do." I gave him a shaky smile but he was back to typing on the key board, I shook my head and started to leave. I whipped my head around when he called my name, "I'll see you tomorrow Stiles, I Promise I will be in the house when you wake, I have the morning off" He gave a quick smile that didn't reach his eyes then went back to work. I left the station, got in the jeep, released a shaky breath and drove home at 19:55 pm.

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Quietness, darkness, loneliness, all the negative 'ness'es. The Skilinski home, my home was shrouded in shadows when I pulled into the drive and released a breath which finally allowed me to drop the fake smile, the mask and the wall. I felt drained. Physically, emotionally.  My mind flashed with images of the pack, huddled together, looking at each other with love, trust and acceptance. Head filling with words that floated around, crashing into the sides of my skull.
"Freak"..."idiot"..."in the way"... "Shut up, Stiles"... "Pathetic"..."faggot"..."ugly" ... "Little bastard" ... "I promise" ... "Worthless"... "Unwanted" ... "Disgusting" ... "Psycho"

My brain snapped back into focus and I found myself in my bathroom, shaking hand on the handle of the cabinet under the sink. Letting out a shuddering breath I continued to open the cabinet and thudded down jarringly onto the cool floor, I couldn't feel the cold tiles through my jeans and a second later my grey jeans where flung across the room and I re-crossed my legs, now sitting criss-cross on the floor facing into the small cabinet. Pushing the towel on the top shelf slightly to the side, I reached to the back and my fingers closed around a fairly small rectangular, wooden box.

Since the discovery of all things supernatural my special little box has changed. My special box used to be an old large cooking matches box and was now a fancy carved wooden box laced with mountain ash, a clip infused with a special type of wolfs bane kept it shut. I now flicked open the box revealing the treasures within. A couple bandages, a tub of white slightly floral scented cream, a pair of scissors, a packet of tissues, a small cloth, butterfly strips, rubbing alcohol and my blades. Blades of different shapes, sizes and sharpness, fairing in different stages of uses and quite grotesquely, different shades or red flecking their sharp edges.

Another shaking breath later and a smaller and sharper one of the blades, which appears quite new, judging by the sliver gleam on the blade and the lack of red or brown crusting the edge, is pinched between my thumb and fore-finger. The little blade hovers over my thigh and my lips turn up in a small smile as I press the cool metal to the already scared flesh there. The words continue to crash in my skull, repeating, louder and louder until they are screams, and more join them seemingly coming from the shadows that cling around the room. The blade comes down in my thigh another 17 times, tonight the lines are even and equal in thickness and length, they are deep but not enough to cause me alarm and I watch as the crimson liquid bubbles up and flows out of the cuts with a sick fascination. I don't know how long I sit there,,but the blood stop flowing and my thigh is stained red.

I wet the cloth in the sink and begin the process of cleaning my thigh, relishing on the sting that comes as the cuts pull and stretch or come into contact with icey water. I finish but wrapping my thigh tightly in gauze and pack away my kit, pushing the box back to its original place. I go for a piss and wash my hands before walking back into my bedroom feeling slightly lighter and a little less hollow. Feeling like sleep will adept me quickly for once lay down in my bed and close my eyes. The nightmares take me almost immediately.
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This feeling is familiar, I am stuck, my hands are not responding to me as they close around Allison's throat. I cry and whimper and beg but my body does not respond. I am trapped again. The Nogitsune has taken control of my body again. Allison fights and kicks and wheezes out my name. "Sti....Stiles.... H...how Cou...could y...you do th....this?" , her face changes until it morphs into Cora's,  then Erica's, then Boyd's, then Isaac's, then Peter and so on, when it flick to Derek who's eyes are wide with terror I let out the sobs that were threatening me, the face finally shifts to Lydia's, who's strawberry blond locks start to darken until they are thick hot streams of blood streaming down her face and she lets out a grounds shaking scream.
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I Bolt awake a cry stuck in my throat, shaking, tears streaming down my face, hair plastered to my forehead with sweat. I push my self up only to collapse back due to my trembling legs, I end up curling into a ball back under the cover while I wait until the shaking stop and sobs racking my body. When I finally manage to gather myself and sit up right I look at the clock 03:47 am. I trudge into the bathroom, feeling worse, even more drained than when I went to sleep and striped and turned on the shower. Time to start Saturday.

A/N
Hello readers, so this is part four, quite triggering for some hope you are all safe after this one, remember to express your feelings in non-harmful ways, e.g. Writing, drawing etc. Any way I hope you liked this chapter somewhat.

Another Note - I DO NOT own these characters, they are from MTV's Teen Wolf thought of by the amazing Jeff Davis.

Another (another) note - this is my last authors note to say this will be a Sterek fic with other pairings including Scott/Isaac Boyd/Erica Lydia/Jackson and Allison/Cora. Do not like, simple do not have to read.

Happy Reading,
Shadowhunter1313 xx