Black Water ↠ Stiles Stilinski [Teen Wolf, Vol. One]

Resonance

Disclaimer: 'Teen Wolf' isn't mine. Shocking, right? But it's true. If there are any similarities in content or dialogue, it has probably originated with the show.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys, sorry this one has taken so long. It's been....a time. Couldn't really write during holidays. I had to scramble to find a new apartment. Had a close friend land in the hospital for 2+ weeks. Twice. Friend had major surgery, then recovery-I spent a ton of time there. Then my car was broken into and the window smashed in. Plus work has me going to shows till like midnight sometimes. Excuses, excuses, I know. Blah. Sorry.

I hate to come back from such a long hiatus with a filler-ish chapter, but upon reviewal I discovered that Teen Wolf had absolutely ZERO screen time dedicated to the emotional fallout of Lunatic! They just hard cut to the next episode and literally none of it was acknowledged! So....*dude putting duct tape over massive fracture in wall gif* It's a lot of talking and a lot of hashing out of feelings...or avoiding feelings. I hope it's still enjoyable!

In other news given the glorious chaos of Robert Sheehan in The Umbrella Academy...I'm probably gonna end up editing my Misfits fic (including editing the existing edits) because my writing back then makes me cringe but I love Izzy and have codependency issues with fictional characters and also no self-control, so..... Anywho, here we go!

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Chapter 29 - Resonance

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In Charlie's opinion, there existed few things better in the world than a good bed. Come morning it could mean the difference between a casual hatred of the sun or the desire to set the world ablaze so the resultant ash cloud might block out said sun for a few more moments of sweet, sweet darkness. Now, Charlie did not own this mattress. Most mornings the beeping of her alarm clock came with sudden onset pyromania. The bed in question belonged to one Katie Harding, the single bright spot during a disastrous third grade sleepover. Tempurpedic. Not too soft, not too firm. Sheer perfection. But with the previous night's exhaustion, Charlie sank into her weathered and squeaky bedsprings like they were memory foam.

Unfortunately for her, even the cozy bliss of Katie Harding's warm, plush bed couldn't inoculate her sleep against outside interference.

The first time Charlie's phone rang, she didn't look at the time. The only interruptions to the swath of black across the sky were pinprick stars and the dim halo surrounding a street lamp at the nearest intersection. Far too early to even bother checking. She silenced it before three notes escaped the speaker and dove back beneath the covers. She repeated the process as it rang a second time. At its insistent third ring, she chucked her phone across the room. This ultimately proved counterproductive as it chimed a fourth time over. Now out of her immediate grasp, it managed to play through all the opening notes to "Don't You Want Me Baby".

Teeth gritted in frustration, Charlie threw the covers back. Despite having blindly hurled it into the abyss, her phone was easy to locate. Its flashing screen provided the only light in the room. She stumbled around text book stacks, laundry piles, and rogue shoes in her poor navigation to the illuminated photo of Donald's grin. Naturally it had slid under her desk. She shimmied beneath it in pursuit, and what did she find upon arrival? The time in the top right corner reading 5:16 a.m. "What the f—"

Indignation straightened her spine. Which, of course, was immediately followed by a resounding crack as her skull met the top of her desk. Frankly, at this point she didn't have it in her to care. Her head already throbbed from lack of sleep, why not add blunt force trauma to the mix? Grumbling internally, she crawled from below her desk and flopped backwards. Her head landed on an errant laundry pile. Not quite a pillow, but welcome nonetheless given current circumstances. "Bitch, it is five in the fucking morning!" she cursed into the receiver. "Do you want to die? Are you actively seeking death? Because I can arrange that."