Inked Emissary

Chapter 13: The Inked Emissary

  Three years. That was how long it had been since Stiles had left Beacon Hills. He was nineteen with a permanent place in the Borden Pack, often taking over  jobs for Mitchell. He had continued to collect tattoos and by that stage in his life his whole upper body and arms were inked up. That was why the Pack and many others that interacted with them called him the Inked Emissary.

  He had a life that was so good, responsibilities and people that didn't doubt him. He had Malia and Tommy and Sara. They were the best things, he had never thought that he would have anything as strong as he and Scott had had but boy did he have something even stronger with his roommate, friend and girlfriend.

  After all of those years fighting the supernatural threats, both external and internal he had thought that he would never feel safe again. Especially after the Nogitsune, especially after having to hide so much from the people that he called friends just so that they would look at him. So that they wouldn't turn on him. Now with the Bordens he felt safe. He felt safe when he was with Ide, when he was with Malia. And when he was with Malia he felt like the luckiest person in the world.

  His responsibilities as emissary were amazing. Everything was amazing. He still couldn't quite get over how many Packs there were. How cut off the McCall Pack had been. He had known that the Hales had been in touch with other Packs, that Derek's mother had been a renowned full wolf. Peter obviously held onto some of that knowledge of the outside world but was too selfish to include others and Derek had been young when the fire had orphaned him. As for Scott, well he was a pretty awful alpha with no clue.

  That may have been the reason that Deaton made contact with the Bordens three years and two months into Stiles' life in Greenwood. The initial contact was through letter, something Stiles was ever so relieved about. But the letter... that was bad. It said that Beacon Hills had been under siege from supernatural creatures for the last three years and that the numbers were just increasing, the amount of hostile creatures becoming too much. 

  Three years. It was the time frame that concerned him the most. It was that which meant... that meant that Malia had known.

***

    Stiles strode purposefully into the apartment, into the living area where Malia, Tommy and Sarah sat laughing together. They stopped as soon as he entered though because his face was like thunder, green flames were flickering at his finger tips and by his side Ide was growling, hackles raised and teeth bared.

  "Stiles?" Malia asked nervously, feeling particularly cornered by the two sets of angry brown eyes fixed on her.

  "When were you going to tell me Malia?" Stiles practically snarled, all of the hurt inside of him morphing into anger.

  "Tell you what Stiles?" She said getting up from the sofa and taking a hesitant step forward as the two werewolves looked on.

  "That Beacon Hills was in danger. That my friends were in danger. That my dad, my only family was in danger!" Stiles yelled the last bit, feeling more out of control than he had in years.

  "Stiles, you need to calm down mate!" Tommy said in alarm as a swooshing noise filled the apartment. Stiles looked down to see water swirling up around his legs, drawn from his surroundings and curling around him through the air. He sucked in a deep breath, Tommy was right. Just calm down. He took another breath and as he let it out he let the water disperse back to where they had come from. Like that he had control again.

  "You mean the creatures don't you," Malia said and Stiles could see it, he knew her well enough to see the fear in her eyes. Something that she rarely felt and something that was even rarer to actually see." Can we go talk privately."

  "Go and talk privately," Stiles  gave a smile with his jest, the aim working as it seemed to put her at ease."Sure."

  They walked silently to their room, the room that has originally just been Stiles', the one were he had used his powers to get rid of the Nogitsune what seemed like a lifetime ago. Now he shared it with her, had for a year and a half since she had moved away from Beacon Hills. Stiles opened the door to the semi-tidy room and Malia passed through, ducking her head slightly.

  "So why didn't you tell me?" he asked again but this time there was no anger, only sadness.

  "Because you were happy Stiles," Malia said looking directly at him," I didn't know you all to long before you left and with my people skills I couldn't really understand emotion. With you though Stiles... with you I could use more primitive senses, and I could sense that you were sad. You had this mask but that was all it was and Scott was hooked up in his own little world and Lydia- well you know I didn't like her, Isaac hated you and Allison was dead. You still had your problems and no one to listen because your dad and I didn't know what to do and no one else cared enough to see that you were hurting. 

  " So when you came here and we talked for all those hours, I knew that that pain was going away, slowly sure- but it was going away. I didn't want you to have to come back to Beacon Hills and all that pain again, here you have people that care and notice. You said yourself that Tommy noticed when something was up, that was when you barely knew each other. You've known Scott since you were what five, four? Can you see why I did it? I loved you even back then more than I had loved anyone else. I don't even think I fully understood what love was- all I knew was that I could not let you get hurt."

  Stiles stared at her while she spoke, her words chocking him up. He had never thought of his need for escape begin because no one cared, it had never crossed his mind. Even standing there he didn't want to contemplate it- one thing was clear though; Malia had cared. Every bit of resentment left him and he took those two strides forward to close the space between them and grip her in a tight hug.

  She returned the embrace with as much vigor as he gave it, both clinging on like it was all that was holding them together. And maybe it was.

  "I love you," Stiles whispered into her hair.

  "I love you too Stiles," she said in a shaky voice.