Phantom Limb Syndrome

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Green's POV

I sit down in my seat next to Lydia and Malia. Malia has a highlighter in her hand, practically highlighting the whole page. She comes to a stop and grabs the red marker before going back to the yellow one.
I look over at the empty seat besides me. Part of me feels like there was always someone sitting next to me in that seat, that it was never empty, until today.
"I'm impressed with your guys. It speaks to your study habits and commitment to your studies," she says as she starts passing back papers. "Some of you though could come by and see me for some help." Malia turns towards her, gripping the table.
"Um-"
"I don't give extra credit for alternate equations," she tells me. She walks away.
"Malia, claws. Put them away right now," I yell her like a mother would scold her child. She loosens bee grip and places her hands back on the table.
××××××××
I take notes as Mrs.Flume writes things on the chalk board. Lydia turns to the empty seat next to us. "Excuse me?" She whispers. Fear rushes through me. "What are you going in this class?" She asks to no one. At least no one I can see. She covers her ears and scrunches her face us as if in pain. She takes them away, breathing heavily and looks around her.
×××××××
Lydia holds her arm out in front of her as if someone is leading her somewhere. I grab her other arm and yank her back onto the side walk to keep her from getting ran over. The car honks at us.
"What were you doing?" I ask.
"Trying to remember."
××××××××

Deaton holds the piece of the broken windshield with sweezers in front of him. It glows blue in the light has holding it under. "Its like there's holes in my memory. Like that...I took that from the Sheriff's impound lot, but I can't remember any reason as to why I would have been there," Scott tells him.
"Your subconscious could be conscious of some of your memories. Dreams and waking dreams can help people remember," Deaton tells us.
"Could this be connected to the Wild Hunt and the Ghost Riders? The holes?" I ask.
"The Ghost Riders have always been driven to war and mayhem. There's nothing been about them doing anything to ones memories," he answers, holding the glass to Scott. "Its like you have a case of Phantom Limb Syndrome."
"What's that?"
"It's common in war. People can have a sensation of an itch or pain that can't be there. The missing limb is so important that the brain acts as if it's still there."
"So my subconscious is trying to tell me that some things missing?" Scott asks.
"Maybe."
"How am I supposed to find out what it's trying to tell me?" He asks.
"The best way to do that is to just go to sleep."
××××××××

"Thanks for walking me home, you really didn't have to," I tell Scott as he stands in the door way of my room. He gives me a soft smile.
"I don't want to risk anyone getting taken," he says. I nod, uncrossing my arms. He steps closer and takes my hand. "How have you been feeling about all of this?" He asks me.
"Confused. Today in class there was an empty seat between Lydia and I. I kept telling myself it was just someone that was absent, but I felt that it shouldn't of been empty. Like that person who sits there is always there and talking," I say. "I don't think the person was just absent and I think I'm going crazy, because of that."
"I believe you," he says. "I've obviously having weird feelings like that all day," he says. I nod, looking into his brows eyes. His lock with mine and stay there. He presses his hand on my waist and slowly leans down. My hands shake at my sides.
His lips brush against mine lightly. He pulls back and comes back in more sure. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He smiles against my lips, keeping his hands at my back.
He moves his lips down to my neck. I close my eyes, sighing. When I open them again, my eyes immediately go to the bed.
×××××××

He kisses down my stomach and sides, gripping my thighs. When he comes back up, his eyes glowing yellow. "You want this?" He asks.
"Yes." I know that this is completing the process, but I can't seem to care.
××××××××
He pushes himself back on my bed so he's against the headboard and I'm straddling him. My hands still shake as I take his jacket off along with his shirt, running my hands up his arms around around his shoulders. Of course he has to feel so warm.
"Isn't everyone down stairs?"
"Yes, so we have to be extremely quiet," I whisper.
××××××××

I push Scott back a little, resting my forehead against his. I hate that even though Theo is no longer here, he still has control over me.
"Scott," I say, resting my forehead against his. He smiles.
"I'm sorry," he says, his lips brushing against mine. I can't help but smile a little.
"It's perfectly fine."
××××××××
I get out my car the same time Lydia and Malia pull up. Scott walks up and hands us all flashlights. "I went to bed, and some up in the woods, like a mile out. I think there's a reason why this happened," Scott tells us. We follow him pass the No Trespassing sign.
"I've been here before. It was sophomore year and it was the night before try outs. I can remember cause that's all I was able to think about."
"What were you doing?" Malia asks him.
"Looking for a dead body," he answers. "I can't understand what in was doing out here alone."
"I would help you, but I didn't know you then," Lydia tells him.
"I was still a coyote, so I could have tried to eat it," Malia says.
"Deaton said your subconscious is trying to telling you something."
"I need you guy to help me figure out what it's saying."
"You could have just been a curious teenager," Lydia says.
"But how could I know? I didn't watch the news. I didn't have a place scanner. Green was a way at her old school, so couldn't of known from her father."
"Your mom does work at a hospital. She could have gotten called in and you overheard her?" Malia suggests.
"She wasn't home. I live five miles away; how did I get out here?" He says.
"You drove," I say.
"I didnt have a car," she says.
"You ran," she tries again.
"I had asthma. I wad hiding and they knew I was here."
"You could have made a whole bunch of noise from your breathing," I say. He stops.
"How could they know it was me?" He looks a way from us. "Why would your dad even think I'd be out here?" He asks.
"Because most deaths in this town are related to something supernatural," Lydia says.
"I wasn't, though. It was the night I was bitten. I wasn't a werewolf yet and I wasn't here alone." He looks down. "I think I had a best friend and he was with me that night."
"It doesn't sound crazy," Malia says. "I remember someone chaining me up to learn control. They wanted me to stay human."
"I came to school and was sure I was supposed to meet someone, but I couldn't remember who," Lydia says. "I've been looking all day. Whoever it is, I think I loved him."
"What if it's the same person?" I ask and take the picture of Scott, Malia, Lydia, and I. There's an empty space between Scott and I. "What if he was in this?" Lydia points to the empty space.
"He was right there."
×××××××
"Hey," I say as I walk into my dad's office to him eating dinner with my mom. She kisses my cheek and sits down. "I jut wanted to let you know that I might be a little late tonight. Lydia and I are working on something. It won't be too late though."
"Just stay safe," they both say."
××××××××

"So she's just supposed to magically write down the answers?" Malia asks as Lydia sits down in front of the light and broken piece of glass.
"It's never that simple," I say.
"The hand moves outside of her conscious awareness," Deaton says. "Hopefully the darkness, silence, and light will help you find more comfortable trance like state." He hands her a pen and paper. "Stare into the light and let go of all thought.
We walk out of the room and into the hallway to give her space. "We may not be able to access the memories. The Wild Hunt takes people. But if what your saying is right, the truth could be a lot more worse. They erase people from reality.
"How are we supposed to remember someone that's been completely wiped out of our memories?" I ask.
"Maybe he hasn't been," Malia says. We all look into the room to see Lydia frantically writing on the paper.
"Is she okay?" Scott said.
"Slow down," I tell her. Deaton turns the light off from the glass. She doesnt take her eyes off the glass. "Is she okay?" I ask.
"Lydia?" Deaton says. Malia grabs the paper.
"What does mischief mean?" She asks. Scott takes it from her.
"It's not what she wrote," he says. Lydia gasps, coming back to us.
"What the hell is a Stiles?"

AN: And there's always that one chapter that's harder to write than others. That was this one. This was based on 6x02! Stay alive |-/ -Vaeh




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