Light The Fire || Stilinski || Book Two

Twenty-Four

"YOU ENVISIONED KATE and random werewolves eating your organs?" Sierra asked Allison in disbelief over the phone, pressing the device against her ear. "Are you okay?"

Allison let out a shaky breath and glanced at Isaac, who decided he should drive. "I-I'm fine," she replied, but had to curl her free fingers into her palm to keep them from shaking.

Sierra could feel the huntress' anxiety and fear, and spoke up carefully, "Are you sure you want to be the one to shoot Malia? Cause I can do it if you don't want to."

"I want to," Allison stated immediately. Her hallucinations weren't going to stop her from helping her friends. She just needed to focus more, and the task would be done. "We're almost to the preserve so I'll see you in a few."

"Okay," Sierra dragged out the word, only concerned for the brunette. "See you in a second." She hung up her cellphone, keeping it in her hand as Stiles turned the jeep into a parking spot. She watched the way he let out a deep breath before shutting off the engine and relaxing in his seat. He felt her stare and flickered his light brown eyes to her gaze.

Instead of questioning why she was looking at him, he offered a small smile. "You ready to do this?"

"Do you really think this plan is going to work?" Sierra chose to retort softly instead, her doubts clouding her mind. Her head leaned back against the seat, but still turned to him to await his answer.

"I think," he started off carefully, putting thought into his words, "that we've been in hard situations before where everything has worked out. Why should today be any different?"

"Because I feel like we're losing our minds," Sierra let a deep sigh fall from her chapped lips. "Stiles, the things I'm seeing, that I know aren't there, terrify me."

He quickly shifted his body to completely face his girlfriend and leaned over to grasp her hand in his. "I know," he replied truthfully, his own heart heavy. Ever since the night he sacrificed himself, his nightmares that he used to get from his mother's death popped up and continued. He knew Sierra was extremely bothered by her own illusions as well, even though neither of them really talked about what they saw.

"But it's not just that," Sierra continued and lifted her gaze from where it lingered on their intertwined fingers to look at him seriously. "I knew Malia. She was my friend and the fact that I couldn't help her back then makes me wonder how I could possibly help her now."

Stiles lifted up his other hand and gently cupped her cheek so she'd lean into him. "That's not your fault," he said firmly, referring to the car crash Malia was in all those years ago. "You didn't know she was a werecoyote, heck none of us even believed werewolves were real at that time. I understand that she was your friend, and I'm sad I never got to meet her back then. But, babe,  you can't change the past. However, if we can save her, we're changing her future of being hunted by her father."

"That's a really weird sentence I never thought you'd say," Sierra whispered, cracking a smile as she looked at him.

Stiles stifled a small laugh from her comment, but finished his statement. "My point is we couldn't help her back then, but now we have an opportunity to help her now. You can't let fear stop you from doing what you think is impossible. Because then it's always going to stay that way."

"Has anyone ever told you you're really good at reassurance?"

Stiles shrugged, offering a tiny grin. "Maybe once or twice." He lifted their hands that were still gripping onto each other and pressed his lips to her skin tenderly. "I'm in love with you so much, alright? No matter what happens today."

Feeling her cheeks flush, Sierra bit down on her bottom lip to hide her wide smile. "I'm in love with you so much too," she squeezed his hand. "Now let's go save my friend."