Binx Announcement: Dearest readers, I'm sorry this chapter has taken me such a long time to complete. It and the rest of this story are dedicated to my dad, Zane Burnell, who passed away April 9, 2019 after fighting liver cancer for nine months.

Credit to Tim Ferris, Demon Hunter, Dr. Joe Dispenza, C.S. Lewis, and Skillet; I own nothing they've created.

.=

I was in and out of consciousness. The first time I came to I was in somebody's vehicle just long enough to register that my head was in someone's lap. I managed to mumble, "No hospital... too many questions... too few answers... motel..." before I was swallowed by darkness.

When I temporarily resurfaced again, I heard Stiles ask Scott to bring his mom in to check me over. Later, a sharp pinch in my arm pulled me into consciousness. "Stiles?" I croaked. But it was a woman's gentle voice that reassured me.

"It's ok, Xayne. I'm Nurse McCall from Beacon Hills Hospital- Scott's mom. You're..." but I faded so fast that was all I could get before I was gone again.

.=

"...it's been well over 24 hours." I heard someone whisper. There was no reply. Then, "No, there's still half a bag left from last time. I'm just- I hate that there's nothing I can do." He or she must have been on the phone. Then suddenly they didn't whisper anymore as they said in disbelief, "I don't care if skin to skin contact has been proven to heal, I will not molest her..." It was Stiles. "Dude, she's unconscious, therefore I don't have her consent- why am I even still talking to you?!" he said in disgust and hung up.

I tried to swallow but my mouth was dry. "Stiles?"

His face came into view before me. "Hey," he whispered and reached up to brush my hair out of my face. "How're you feeling?"

"Thirsty," I choked out.

He moved away and I heard him fix up a glass of water for me. He came back and held a straw to my lips. I tried to drink just a sip but once I started I couldn't seem to get enough and finished the whole thing in seconds.

"More?" he asked. I nodded. I drank two more cups before my thirst was quenched.

"Are you hungry?" he asked me. I hadn't noticed until he mentioned it. My stomach growled loudly before I could even respond. He gave me an empathetic smile as he said, "Ok, wait here," before he disappeared from my line of sight.

Where would I go? I thought, rueful, then I remembered that I literally had nowhere to go. Where will I go? What am I going to do? Panic throbbed in my throat and made it hard to swallow.

I was sluggish as I tried to sit up. "Hey, whoa, let me help you," said Stiles as he came back over. He helped me adjust the pillows and get into an upright position. I noticed my glasses on the nightstand and put them on.

There was a ding from across the room and he went to the little kitchen nook that held a mini fridge, a microwave, and a coffee maker. He opened the microwave and pulled out a little travel cup of Campbell's soup. He stirred it up with one of the plastic coffee straws before he put the lid back on and then brought it over to me. I sipped and felt the warmth flow all the way down to my stomach, which growled again.

"It's chicken noodle," said Stiles. "Scott's mom said the broth would be the best on your stomach since it's been so long since you ate solid food. She's a nurse; she's the one who changed your clothes and put you on a saline drip. She said your body was exhausted and dehydrated."

I looked down to see a different t-shirt than I'd put on a day ago, then peeked under the blanket to see a pair of black sweatpants that I knew said Army Sister in white down one leg and a panther emblem on the other hip. I covered back up and took another sip before I asked, "What day is it?" My voice was still raspy.

He looked across the room at the dim glow of the digital clock, so I glanced too. 12:34 a.m. glowed back at us. "It's officially the 29th. You've been mostly unconscious for about 30 hours. We've been taking turns to come sit with you, waiting for you to wake up." My brow furrowed in question. "Scott, Lydia, Allison, Derek, and I," he answered. I realized then he also had different clothes on from the last time I saw him. He had on dark blue jeans and a navy t-shirt under a red and navy flannel.

My stomach growled again, so I took another sip of soup. "What happened?" I asked.

"Well, after you, uh... grew that tree... you got a really bad nose-bleed and passed out. Those Winchester guys fought with us- verbally!" he clarified when what little color I had gained back drained away so fast I felt dizzy again. "They wanted to take you away but we refused. Round and round it went (I'll spare you the details) before they finally relented when they got a call and said they had to go but they'd be back soon."

"Why?" I asked, irritated by what I saw as just plain meddling at this point.

"To," he raised his fingers in air quotes, ""follow-up on the situation at hand.""

"There may not even be a "situation" for them to follow-up on," I said, irritated.

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked.

I took my time to answer, unsure how I felt about my suspicions. I took a drink of the soup and caught a noodle. I chewed it slowly before I answered. "With everything that happened- the transition to almost-vampire then forcing the reversal back to human, then the level of magic I used in a weakened state, in such close succession... I may have depleted my powers in the end- permanently."

We sat in silence for a few minutes while I finished the little cup of soup. I wanted to move, at least a little and figured a shower would feel nice. I also realized that I hadn't bought anything to sleep in when I had gone on my shopping spree; any pajamas were in my old bag from the cabin...and my bladder was fit to burst. I uncovered and swung my feet to the floor. The soup had helped enough that I was pretty sure-footed and clear-headed. "Bathroom," I said in explanation. "Could you grab my bag from the cabin, please?"

"Sure," he said and got up to fetch it for me.

I found the lock on the i.v. and pushed the little wheel to stop the flow. I carefully pulled up the tape that kept it bound to the inside of my elbow and then in one fluid pull I had the needle out of my arm and hung it over the lamp mounted to the wall. I grabbed a tissue to hold to the tiny wound and then made my way to the bathroom.

He followed me in to set my bag on the counter. "Call out if you need anything," he said before he shut the door.

After my most urgent needs were met I took a shower and brushed my teeth. Wrapped in a towel, Justin's dog-tags still around my neck, I dug around in my bag to find something clean to sleep in, I came across my old phone buried under everything. Oh yeah! I forgot I had even packed this! I tried to turn it on but it was dead, of course. Justin had only let me bring it for sentimentality; he was paranoid (in my opinion) that somehow we'd be tracked if we ever popped up on social media. I never got to tell my friends goodbye. He'd made me turn it off the moment we left and hadn't even let me pack a charger. It's all moot now, Bubby. I thought. I bet my new phone's charger would work on it... I yawned, too tired to deal with it now. I put it in a zippered side pocket and dug around again until I found my last clean black sports bra and boy shorts, a black t-shirt that had the outline of a cat in silver across the chest, and dark gray yoga pants that had 'MEOW' across the seat.

I moved slow so I wouldn't wear myself out, but by the time I was dressed I was tired and hungry again. I finger-combed my hair and stuffed my dirty clothes in my bag before I left the bathroom.

I started to drag myself back to the bed when I finally registered that the room was full of people. Everyone was there, even a kind-looking woman in magenta scrubs that I'd never seen but assumed was Scott's mom.

"Hello," I said to everyone at large, touched that they'd cared to come, because really, they didn't even know me.

They stayed for about an hour. Scott's mom was the first to go. She had just gotten off of work when Scott had called her to let her know that I was awake and she'd wanted to come check on me. She was kind and gentle and in the end insisted that I have another cup of soup and proceeded to make one up for me and stood there while I drank it. After I'd finished it she said I'd need more sleep, but was pretty much recovered. Lydia and Allison were next to leave. Lydia had had questions about the Winchesters and what it might mean for Beacon Hills to be on their radar, and Allison had let me know she was there for me since she, too, had had an important loss recently in her own life. Scott left after Stiles said he'd stay. Derek never said anything. He'd just hugged me for a solid minute and then nodded at Stiles.

By the time it was just Stiles and me, I was almost asleep where I stood. Stiles guided me back to the bed and I crawled in before I took my glasses off and set them on the nightstand.

He turned to go sleep in the easy chair by the desk but I grabbed his hand. "Will you lay down with me? Please? I- I don't want to be alone," I asked, my voice quavered a little. After I spoke those words aloud, the full impact of the last one hit me hard and I could feel the dam about to break.

"Of course," he said. He took off his shoes and flannel shirt and crawled in behind me. He wrapped one arm over me and held my hand while he tucked his other arm under my head to cradle it. I pressed my back into his chest as I cried myself to sleep in his arms.

.=

Consciousness reached me slowly. I could tell it was late morning, even with the curtains pulled shut, but I didn't open my eyes right away. I could feel Stiles' warm body pressed into mine, only this time I was wrapped around him. I breathed in his salty, sweet boy smell as I buried my face into his back. I sighed and pressed myself closer to him. I'm just a big toasty cinnamon bun. I never want to leave this bed... Uh oh. I have to pee. Think, man, think. Think, think, think. There was no use; I had to get up.

I pressed a kiss to the back of Stiles' neck before I slipped out from beneath the covers. I grabbed my glasses on my way to the bathroom and put them on. I went ahead and brushed my teeth and hair before I peeked out to see that Stiles was still sound asleep. My stomach growled loudly. Quiet, you. I glanced at the clock across the room. 10:25; I still had five minutes to get the free continental breakfast. I slipped on my shoes and grabbed Stiles' flannel to put on over my pajamas on my way out the door. By the time I got to the dining area most everything was picked over. I grabbed a tray, a plate, a bowl, a couple of glasses, and some silverware and started to scavenge what I could find.

By the time the attendant came out to clean everything up I was already headed down the hall back to my room. I'd managed to make two pancakes from the pancake machine; one was perfectly round and as big as my hand, while the other had clearly been the last of the batter and was about the size of a 50 cent piece. There were three pieces of bacon, a handful of scrambled eggs, two sausage links, and a biscuit. The bowl was full of the last scoops of all the cereals, including Fruit Loops, Frosted Flakes, Grape Nuts, and Raisin Bran. There was only a mini carton of skim milk left for the cereal but I grabbed three ramekins each of butter and grape jelly for the biscuit. There hadn't been much of the juices left individually so I mixed the apple and grape to fill up both glasses.

When I reached the door to my room I realized I had forgotten my key card.

"Aw shucks," I groused, but it seemed to work like 'open sesame' did for Ali Baba and the door swung open.

"There you are!" said Stiles. He sounded relieved. "I was just coming to look for you- I thought I'd lost you."

"Never," I blushed, and then held up the tray and said a little louder, "I managed to get some food before they closed the dining area."

"Nice one," he smirked. His stomach growled as he moved forward to relieve me of the tray and I followed him in. Truth be told, I'd felt real fear at his words and it unnerved me. Get a grip, Xayne. I closed the door and my eyes and took a slow deep breath. Let's keep it together. One step at a time. I felt a nudge in the back of my mind, like I'd forgotten something but couldn't put my finger on it. I don't know what I'm doing or where I'm going, but everything starts today. I opened my eyes and straightened my spine.

Stiles had made the bed so he set the tray in the middle and we sat down with the tray of food between us and took a bite of this and shared a bite of that. We talked about our pasts and really got to know each other. Stiles told me about when he lost his mom. My heart went out to him; at least both of my parents were still alive, even if they didn't know me. He shared what it was like being "the Sheriff's kid" and about him and Scott from before Scott was bitten; how they were really more like brothers. He told me about what had led up to the fateful bite from the then-Alpha, Peter Hale; another family member of Derek's.

"Wait," I interrupted, "if this Peter guy isn't still the alpha and Derek told me he wasn't the alpha anymore, then who is?"

"Scott," Stiles shrugged like it was no big deal and continued while I just nodded and let that sink in. "Actually, I was just talking to him- Peter- before you woke up last night..." he eyed me and blushed then went on to say that the only good thing about Peter was that he had killed Kate Argent, who had begun to terrorize Scott and Derek not long after Scott was bitten.

"Do you know about Kate? It's a long story," he started, but I interrupted.

"Actually, Derek told me about her, but he never mentioned Peter or that Kate was dead." I was relieved for Derek's sake that some sort of retribution had occurred for him and his family.

Stiles shared more about Peter and what happened to him after the Hale House fire. About his whole pain-in-the-neck Omega back-from-the-dead story and about the other creatures they had encountered over the last few years, like the Kanima, the Darach (and how his dad found out about the supernatural world around them), another friend of theirs I hadn't met yet, Kira, who was a Kitsuné and his time as the Void.

"Do you remember anything from when you were possessed?" I blurted out. I clamped my hands over my mouth. Oh how I wished I could take those words back. "I'm sorry!" I mumbled through my fingers. "You don't want to think about that. Never mind!" Way to ruin the moment, Big Mouth, I berated myself.

"It's ok," he reassured me. "I was the one who brought it up," but still he paused. After almost a full minute he said, "I hated what it was doing but... I've never told anyone this," he said, his voice low as though he feared someone else might hear him. I just waited, quiet. "I enjoyed... feeling powerful." He said the last word slowly, his eyes darted from mine then down to his feet. He looked uncomfortable with his confession, or rather, uncomfortable with what I might say about his confession.

I thought of the girl at Beacon Hills Burgers and her attitude, the way it had felt to bend her will to mine... I swallowed. "I know what you mean," I whispered. He looked at me, hope in his eyes. "I used my witchcraft to help, or at least I'd tried to, but when I used compulsion over these last few days... it was different." I nodded, "I felt more powerful than I'd ever felt before. I mean look at me; barely over 5 feet tall and I look like I could 'blow over in a breeze'..." I deadpanned.

Sheepish, he said, "Ah, you heard that?"

I flashed him a smile, "Yes, but that's kind of my point. The day you met me that was your snap judgment. It's ok, it was true- until I was in transition..." I trailed off and we both contemplated our own thoughts on the subject.

I stood to stretch my legs and poured us coffee. When I sat back down I shared my insight at our similarity, too, in that he was an all-around athlete; he played multiple sports at a decently high level, and I was a multi-instrumentalist at a decently high level.

"What all do you play?" Stiles asked.

"Violin, cello, piano, guitar, and I'd just started learning the drums, actually," I said.

"Wow," he said, impressed. "How...?"

I told him my dad was a master carpenter and instructor at the top woodworking school literally in the world. How there was this one time, years ago, this guy named Tim Ferris came to take my Dad's class. Tim had this technique of being able to learn (and basically master) any skill he wanted within a ridiculously short time. My Dad was so impressed with his progress in the class that he asked Tim to tell him his secret.

"Long story short, he did and my Dad taught Justin and I. I've played the violin since fifth grade, but since the end of seventh grade I used the technique to learn a new instrument each consecutive summer."

I also talked about Willow and when she, her friends and I, and a bunch of college students had gotten stuck in a "haunted house" on Halloween one year because of an accidental spell that turned our fears into reality. And then yet another Halloween where everyone who had bought costumes from this one particular shop had all become the costumes they wore because of a spell used against Willow and her friends; everyone else had just been caught in the crossfire.

"And then there was the week we were all under a spell and literally sang about our feelings. It started out kind of funny but then people started to spontaneously combust when their emotions got too strong-," I stopped short when I realized that it was actually a relief to close that whole chapter of my life and leave the witchcraft behind. Even well-intended, it had never ended how we'd meant for it to. Something bad had always happened. I smiled to myself as my heart felt lighter and I felt a stronger nudge in my mind, like I'd almost remembered... something. Something important, but it still eluded me.

So, I talked about the couple of years with Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline in Mystic Falls and how we were about to start our Junior year before Justin and I had fled. I had been so excited, too because my gramma had gifted me a bright yellow 1981 Chevrolet Chevette Hatch after I got my license last year in December and I was finally going to be able to drive to school this year.

I shared the memories of Justin I had forced the Winchesters to see. I told him about my mom and how she had always wanted to become a baker and finally achieved her dream at the age of 35 and had been baking ever since. I shared how she, therefore, encouraged Justin and me to never give up; that dad's nickname for me was 'Fighter' and how much I missed them.

We talked for hours. We laughed a lot and cried a little until a knock sounded on my door. The manager had come to let me know that if I wanted to stay another night I needed to pay, otherwise checkout was in one hour. My heart pounded as I thanked him and said I'd check out. After I shut the door, Stiles and I looked at each other from across the room.

I could feel the panic in my stomach. "I guess I'll get dressed and pack up, but then what? Where am I going? What am I doing? I have no money. I'm almost out of clean clothes..." We'd had our escape from reality all morning but now it was at my door and demanded I move forward whether I was ready or not. I looked around at what had been my home for the last several days at a loss and afraid of what my future held.

Stiles came over and wrapped his arms around me and I did the same as I leaned my forehead onto his chest. He dropped a kiss on top of my head. "I can carry out your library to my Jeep," he said, "then you can come back to my place to wash your clothes while we figure out what to do next, ok? One step at a time."

His words echoed my previous thought and I took a slow deep breath. That's right; one step at a time. "Ok," I mumbled into his solid chest. I turned my head to the side and listened to his heart beat. It felt unreal that he had almost died what still felt like yesterday to me. Thank you, God, for letting me keep him. I don't know what I'd do if I lost Stiles, too. I tightened my arms around him and turned to press a kiss to his healed sternum. Then I released him to turn to the chest of drawers and hide my blush as I picked out something to wear.

I selected my dark denim skinny jeans, soft gray t-shirt, clean underwear and bra, and the ankle socks with books all over them, then headed to the bathroom. I still had on Stiles' flannel shirt so I took it off and set it aside. I decided to jump in the shower before I left, not knowing when I'd be able to take another one. I was out in less than five minutes. My bag was still in there so I put my pajamas inside before I brushed out my hair and finished it with a spritz of hairspray. I brushed my teeth and put on fresh deodorant before I dried off my toiletry items from the shower and counter and added them to my bag. Then I grabbed Stiles' flannel and rejoined him out in the main room.

He was already back and had started to clean up the breakfast debris. I walked around to the chest of drawers and went to put what was left of my clean clothes in the side zip pocket then went to grab the dirty clothes that had piled up in the corner of the built-in closet and stuffed them in with the rest of my old dirty clothes. It had been about a week since the last time Justin and I had gone to a laundromat so it was past the time to do so.

I looked around the room to see if I'd forgotten anything. I spied my boots and new gray shoes under the desk and put them in the other zippered side pocket and then saw my charger plugged in by the nightstand and went to get it. With that, everything was packed and ready to go. I put on my black Converse that were at the foot of the bed and then held out Stiles' flannel to him.

"It's a little chilly out. You can wear it." He smiled, a little color lit his cheeks as he grabbed my bag, "It looked good on you."

"Thank you," I blushed as I pulled it on again, this time I tied the long ends around my waist and rolled up the cuffs so my hands were free. Then I donned my backpack and grabbed the card key and we left the room.

It only took a minute to check out and then we walked out into the afternoon sunshine and cool autumn air. Stiles put my bag in the back seat as I got in. We buckled up and he started the Jeep. My umbrella and it's sleeve were still on the floor but dry. I picked it up and started to work it back inside the sleeve to put it back in my backpack when Stiles spoke. "Hey, would you want to start the Star Wars marathon we talked about while the laundry is going?" Stiles asked me as he pulled out of the parking spot.

I'd forgotten about that but a lightness filled me and I grinned, "I'd love to." Stiles smiled back at me. He hesitated only a moment before he reached over to take my hand in his. It still gave me a thrill and I felt my cheeks heat up.

When we arrived at his house, I noticed the Sheriff's cruiser was not in the driveway. "You can leave my books in here, if that's ok with you? No sense in carrying them all over, right?" I asked.

"Sure, no problem," Stiles replied as he opened his door and got out. He grabbed my bag out of the backseat and I grabbed my backpack and we went to the door. "I'm sure we have a box in the garage we could put them in," he said as he unlocked and opened the front door.

"Ok, thank you," I said. We went straight to the laundry room and he pointed out the detergent. I nodded, "Thanks. I can take it from here if you want to get the first movie set up?"

His grin was contagious he was so excited. "Ok! Would you like some popcorn?"

"Definitely," I smiled.

"Drink?" he asked.

"Water, please," I said.

He nodded and then left. I could hear him in the kitchen as I sorted out my colors from my whites. At the bottom of my bag was a book. I smiled a sad smile; this was the last book I got with Justin before he died. Whenever we had to go to a laundromat to do our laundry, we would go to the nearest bookstore- to get fresh reading materials- and market- for my food. He would compel the proprietors, much like I had done. I loved to challenge myself and base my choices off of the titles; this book was called 'Becoming Supernatural' by Dr. Joe Dispenza and would go with the rest of my 'library', as Stiles had called it.

As I set it aside, my bookmark started to fall out. I caught it and it opened right to where I had left off in the middle of the book, it's broken-in spine gave no resistance. It was the bookmark that held my attention, though. It was a laminated piece of orange construction paper with part of a hand-written letter from Justin on it.

His favorite band was called Demon Hunter. After I'd told him I'd practiced witchcraft, in his next letter he'd written me a poem from a medley of their lyrics to let me know I wasn't lost or alone. He'd had hope and faith in me even when I didn't. A lump in my throat choked me as I read.

'There was a time I had control

No chains around me

Too many times I gave my soul to faltering hands

To shadows that would take me, break me down

Where is the void I'm after?

Emptiness, the final chapter

To the hollow hands of fate

No escape, nothing left

Just bones and empty roads

And a want for something more

Now sorrow burns around me

Anger, fear, and death surround me

I know they prey upon me

I feel them just beyond my door

There's a fear I used to know

Fear of loss in letting go

Fear that hollowed out my soul

The weight has taken its toll

Let me catch my breath

Follow the path given to me

Must be something left under the wreck

Calling, pulling

And when my sins are just a memory

Faith restored

Lost in the shadow of an endless grace

Forevermore'

The niggling in the back of my mind was stronger, like a whisper I couldn't quite hear or like someone's hand that barely hovered behind me. That thought gave me a chill and I looked over my shoulder. There was nothing there, of course. You're losing it, Xayne Burnell.

I shook myself as I tucked the bookmark back inside the book then got the colors started and the next load ready before I brought the book into the kitchen and set it beside 2 glasses of ice water Stiles had fixed. The yummy aroma of buttery popcorn filled the room, but Stiles was nowhere to be seen.

The microwave beeped so I went to fetch the bag. I looked for a bowl and managed to find one in the third cabinet I searched. I opened the bag and poured it in before I threw the empty bag away. I took a drink from one glass before I took a kernel from the bowl, tossed it in the air, and caught it in my mouth.

"Nice catch," Stiles startled me from the doorway and I jumped. His hair was damp and he had changed into jeans and a black t-shirt and blue and black flannel. When he came over to also grab and toss a kernel in the air and catch it, I could smell soap and mint. "Sorry," he said.

"No worries," I replied as I grabbed another kernel and popped it in my mouth.

"I just wanted to freshen up; I hadn't showered since yesterday morning before I came to sit with you..." he trailed off. The press of his lips clearly said Why did I just say that? and his cheeks warmed a little.

Meanwhile, an image of him in a steamy shower as water dripped down his chest had flashed in my head before I could stop it. My cheeks blazed and I bit my lip. Xayne, you pervert! Get your mind out of the gutter! I choked on the kernel. Stiles patted my back and I threw my arms up, a trick my mom had taught me when I was a little girl. I got my breath back but Stiles kept his hand on my back.

"Here, take a drink," he said and handed me my glass of water with his free hand.

I took a sip and cleared my throat. "Thanks."

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"Yeah," I answered, embarrassed and took another drink.

After I caught my breath he said, "I thought I was going to have to give you mouth to mouth."

I looked at him and blushed when I realized he'd flirted with me. "You might still have to," I flirted back, awkward. "J-just to be safe," I stuttered in a whisper, nervous but excited as he turned to face me.

He tipped my chin with one hand and pulled me flush against him with the hand he still had on my back. He leaned down to capture my lips. It started tender but the kiss soon gained heat. My hands had hung useless at my sides at first but now I reached up to cup his face and tangle in his hair. He deepened the kiss and picked me up to set me on the counter behind me. Our heights were more even now. He stood between my knees, his hands still at my waist, mine trailed down from his hair to his chest to follow the trails of the imagined water droplets...

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

A loud metallic noise thundered and we jumped apart. The washing machine's load was uneven and had thrown it into a fit. My heart pounded as I slid off the counter.

"I'll get that," I said, breathless.

"Y-yeah," Stiles nodded, his face flushed, and tried to catch his breath. I went in to the laundry room and opened the machine lid. My blanket was bunched up on one side. I reached in to adjust the load so that it would run smoothly. It took a couple of tries but by the time I finally got it balanced my heart rate and breathing were back to normal.

I walked back into the kitchen to find the drinks and popcorn bowl gone and a cardboard box in their place. Stiles leaned against the counter as he read 'Becoming Supernatural'. I watched him as he read and again marveled at the turn my life had taken and felt a wave of gratitude to have Stiles by my side, not to mention Derek, Lydia, Allison, and Scott. My heart squeezed in my chest.

Stiles cleared his throat, "Ready?" he asked when he saw me. I was a little embarrassed he'd caught me as I stared at him lost in thought. A shy smile curled up both of our cheeks.

"Yes," I blushed again.

He put my book in the box and carried it out of the kitchen and into the living room. He sat the box by the front door and then came back and sat on the couch. The drinks were on coasters on the coffee table in front of the couch alongside the popcorn bowl. He grabbed the bowl of popcorn and picked up the remote. I sat down beside him as the main menu continued to run on a loop. He grinned with excitement and pressed play.

I let the story swallow me up as I became a part of their world. I absentmindedly ate popcorn out of the bowl on Stiles' lap. I only got distracted when our fingers would brush over each other's in search of our next handful. When Yoda taught Anakin that 'Fear is the path to the Dark Side. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering...' something of it echoed inside me. 'Anger, fear, and death surround me', the bookmark...I felt that nudge in the back of my mind again and needed a moment to think. As if on cue, the washing machine buzzed to signal the end of my first load.

Stiles reluctantly paused the movie, stood to stretch, then helped me up.

"I'm hungry, are you?" he asked. I told him I was. "I'll make us something while you do your thing, ok?"

I answered with a smile as I stepped up on tip-toes to kiss his cheek, "Sounds great."

We headed to the kitchen and parted ways. I listened to the noise of him in the kitchen and tried to pinpoint what this thought was that struggled to surface out of my subconscious. I managed to switch out my clean wet clothes, start the dryer, and start my last load in the washing machine all on autopilot.

Fear, anger, and death. They'd popped up a lot lately. Was it fear, then that lead me to take matters into my own hands back in Sunnydale? I thought back to the times in the advanced computer classes at the high school; all the freaky things that happened. If God was so powerful, then why did he let all that bad stuff happen? What was I supposed to have done? And why did Justin have to die? Death and anger...

At once, as if in answer, one word came to me; 'freewill.'

Freewill...? I hadn't thought about "freewill" since my days in Sunday School. I shook my head, So God created people which have freewill. That means we can go right or wrong... because if a person is free to be good they are also free to be bad...

But then freewill is what has made evil possible, I argued with myself. Why, then did God give us freewill?

I closed my eyes. At first all I could hear was the dryer as it dried my clothes, the washer as it washed my clothes, and the noises from Stiles in the kitchen as he cooked. A few minutes passed as I just stood there, then it came to me.

Though it makes evil possible, freewill is also the only thing that makes possible any love or goodness or joy worth having. A world of people who worked like machines would hardly be worth creating.

I thought about the decisions I'd made that got me here. I would have headed down a self-hate path but a quote literally bubbled up inside me and stopped me in my tracks. 'For you will certainly carry out God's purpose, however you act, but it makes a difference to you whether you serve like Judas or John.'

Oh God, what have I done? Without even realizing it, I'd become a completely different person, like a rocket headed to the moon that is off by only one degree, I was thousands of miles off my mark. That hit me like a punch in the gut and left me breathless.

But I can change! I felt like Ebenezer Scrooge after meeting the third Christmas spirit. I won't let my past define my future! At the same time, though, I couldn't regret anything I'd done because it had gotten me here. I peeked into the kitchen and watched Stiles. He flipped a grilled cheese sandwich over in a skillet then poured a can of tomato soup and some milk in a bowl. After he put the lid on he shook it up, then poured it into a pot to heat up. My heart melted faster than the cheese...

I can't change the past and if I was supposed to be here, then what difference does the path make as long as I serve like John from here on out? I felt better; lighter, like I might float away.

I grinned as I walked up behind Stiles and wrapped my arms around his middle and breathed a deep sigh of peace. The food smelled wonderful and I told him so.

"Thanks," replied Stiles, "it's almost done. Can you get a couple of plates from that cabinet?" he asked as he pointed to a cabinet off to his left.

"Sure," I answered and went to fetch them. I set the plates on the counter beside two mugs he had gotten out for the soup. When I'd set them down, he'd scooped up the sandwich and placed it on one plate before he cut it at a diagonal with the spatula and then slid one half onto the empty plate. Then he went to the soup and stirred it a few times before he tested a sip. Satisfied, he turned off the burner and poured half into each mug.

"My mom would make me this on cold rainy days. Tomato soup; shaken, not stirred and grilled cheese cut at a diagonal 'because it makes it taste better,'" he said with a fond smile.

I smiled, too. "I would have really liked your mom, I can tell."

"She would have really liked you, too," he said quietly before he reached out and stroked my jawline.

Like a magnet, I was drawn to his touch. It was crazy how fast I'd fallen for him; like we were meant to be. Maybe I was meant to save his life... of course he probably wouldn't have been in the woods that day if it weren't for me... maybe it would have been something else. Who knows? I

"I'm ready when you are," he said with a kiss to the top of my head before he turned to grab the mugs of soup.

"Let's do this," I grinned and grabbed the plates and followed him back to the living room.

We finished Episode I, and then jumped into Episode II. Anakin and Padmé left for Geonosis to rescue Obi-Wan before the buzzers went off. I gave Stiles a swift kiss, told him I wouldn't be more than 15 minutes and hurried off to the laundry room. I quickly folded my first load and put them in my bag before I moved the clothes from the washer to the dryer and started it up. Then I hurried to the bathroom and was back beside Stiles in 10 minutes. He grinned at my eagerness and wrapped his arm around me and pressed a kiss to my temple before I lay my head on his chest and we continued the movie again.

I got lost in the story and it made Stiles smile every time I reacted; I cried when Obi Wan fought with and then left Anakin for dead, and hid my face in his shoulder with each brutal fight, and screamed when Sidious was unmasked. We had just finished Episode III when we realized it was dark outside. As the credits began to roll, we both stretched but were reluctant to get up just yet. We turned to each other.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," I gestured to the screen. "I love the story so far."

He smiled, shy, "I've had more fun watching you watch them- it was like seeing them for the first time all over again."

I blushed and fidgeted with the knot I'd tied in his flannel I wore, "You were watching me?"

He reached over to tuck my hair behind my ear as he replied, "It's hard not to."

In my mind I squealed at the implications of his statement but I wanted to be sure. Of all the things we'd talked about that morning, our dating history was not one of them. I took a nervous breath and said, "I bet you've said that to all your girlfriends."

He smiled for a few seconds before he looked at me in all seriousness. He gave a short nod. "I have," he said as he took my hand in his, "just now." Then he placed a kiss on my palm before he curled my fingers as if to hold it.

Swoon. I bit my lip as I sat up and turned to face him fully, but I was at a loss for words.

"And what about you? How many other boyfriends have you had wrapped around your little finger?" he asked, not unkindly.

Though thrilled, my smile was slow as I leaned in to whisper, "Just the one."

He smiled, too, as he closed the distance to kiss me. It was a slow burn of a kiss that melted me back onto the couch. He braced himself over me with one arm while he rested his other hand on my knee. I ran my hands along his chest and around his back. He squeezed my knee and my leg jerked out from his touch as I broke the kiss with a laugh.

"Sorry! That tickled," I explained.

A smile curled up his cheek. "Oh, I didn't know you were ticklish," he teased.

I could read his plan as if it were written across his face. "Stiles," I tried to sound firm, but the effect was lost in the breathless way I said his name, "don't you dare!"

It took him only a few seconds to overpower me. He straddled me and had one hand pinned over my head while his free hand tickled me. He tickled my side, underarm, and knee while my one free hand tried in vain to push his away.

I laughed until I couldn't breathe, then he stopped for me to catch my breath. That was when I fought back. I reached up and started to counter in the same places he'd got me. He laughed and squirmed, also ticklish. He thought fast and grabbed my wrist and pinned it above my head as well.

With both of our hands occupied, neither could tickle the other. "Truce?" he grinned.

I gave him a sweet smile and said, "Nope!" With that, while he still held on to me, I grabbed his wrist furthest from the edge of the couch, hooked my foot closest to the edge around his foot, and bucked my hips to roll us off the edge of the couch and onto the floor with a thump. Now I was on top and I quickly moved forward to pin his arms with my knees, which left my hands free.

"How'd you just do that?" The surprised look on his face made me giggle.

"A self-defense video I saw on YouTube," I shrugged. "Now, if you were an attacker, I'd pummel your nose with the heels of my hands," I said. "Then I'd jump back, punch you in your side, kick you in the crotch, and run away." As it was, I still straddled his upper chest, and the time we'd been in that position started to feel a little too intimate. The heat in my face mirrored his as we stared at each other, awkward.

That was when Sheriff Stilinski cleared his throat from the other side of the couch. "Having fun, you two?" I thought my head would combust from the blaze in my cheeks as I sat there, mute. After a few seconds of silence, he smiled, "Emma, would you mind getting off of my son?"

"Yes, Sir! I mean, no, Sir!" I squeaked and scrambled up. Stiles right behind me, his face also blazed.

"Hey, Dad. Welcome home. How was work?" asked Stiles, in an attempt to diffuse and distract.

The sheriff just raised an eyebrow and didn't take the bait. Just then the drier buzzed and he looked from me to Stiles with a look of surprise. "You're doing laundry?"

I spoke up, "It's mine, Sir."

"Xayne didn't have anywhere to go after..." he stopped short, then continued, "anyway, I said she could come here to wash her clothes and we we're having a Star Wars marathon," he gestured at the t.v. as the credits continued to scroll by. "Can you believe she's never seen them?"

The Sheriff looked confused, "Who's Xayne?"

I waved at him and glanced at Stiles. He stepped forward and took my hand. "Dad, you might need to sit down," he started.

"Oh, geez," the Sheriff sighed, but followed us to the table and we all sat down; Stiles and I beside each other across from Stiles' dad.

"We're going to be honest with you," started Stiles. I looked at him, eyes wide. "It's ok," he reassured me with a squeeze, "just tell him what you told us."

"Ok," I took a deep breath and started from the beginning, much as I had a couple of days ago. I faltered when I came to the part where I had convinced everyone to go into the woods during grizzly hyperphagia. Stiles squeezed my hand again and took over the story. I listened with my eyes downcast, unable to look at the Sheriff. To hear the bear attack from Stiles' point of view made me tremble. Stiles put his arm around me and pulled me closer to him. He took a moment to lean close and whisper in my ear, "Hey, it's fine. I'm fine. You saved me, remember?" before he pressed a kiss to my temple. The sheriff eyed our every gesture.

When the story was complete, the Sheriff just sat there without a sound. I couldn't take it any more and chanced a quick glance up at him. He sat back in his chair, face red, lips tight, and arms crossed over his chest. He took slow deep breaths. Finally, he spoke. "So does that mean you could become a vampire?" he asked Stiles.

"Only if I die and only for maybe another day or two. And I'd only be in transition," he answered.

He looked at me and I flinched. "And since you're human now, if that were to happen, he'd be stuck in transition unless he... he..." he gestured with his hand.

"Unless he drank enough human blood to make him a full vampire. Yes, Sir." I looked away.

The sheriff sighed and ran his hand over his face. "So all we have to do is keep him alive for the next couple of days..." he grinned wryly to himself. "Well, we've kept him alive for this long, what's a couple more days?"

Stiles frowned, "I'm not helpless, you know," he mumbled.

"I know, Son. I know," he sighed. "Alright, then."

Stiles and I looked at each other then back at his dad. Are- are we off the hook? I dared to wonder.

The sheriff stood up and looked down at me a moment before he reached across the table to hold out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Xayne." Cautious, I shook his hand. "Thank you for saving my son's life. Please do your best not to put him in harm's way again." He let go as the dryer buzzer sounded again. "Now, why don't you go sort that out while I have a little chat with Stiles, hm?" he asked, kind but firm.

I looked at Stiles, who rolled his eyes but nodded. I gave him an empathetic smile before I stood. "Yes, Sir," I said, repentant, and went to get the rest of my clothes sorted.

I could barely hear the murmur of their voices as I folded and repacked my entire bag. I didn't want to interrupt too soon. It took me several minutes to pack everything back just the way I liked and when I'd finished with the three outside pockets I rediscovered my old phone and new charger. Curiosity killed the chaton_noir, I mused and decided to save Stiles from what I hoped was just a well-meant safe-sex lecture and not a chewing-out. I'd hate to have created any more tension between father and son than I probably already had.

I carried my bag through the dining room with an, "Excuse me," and went to the living room. I found an available outlet and plugged in my phone. It was so dead it didn't even register that it was plugged in before I heard footsteps come in from the dining room. I stood up and turned around as the sheriff started to speak.

"Xayne," he began, "I can't begin to understand your predicament, but I am a reasonable man." He eyed Stiles, who wore an impatient, 'come on, Dad,' look on his face. "You can stay here for tonight but come morning we'll figure out a more permanent solution."

I was so relieved and beside myself with gratitude that I sort of bent my knees and bowed my head. "Thank you, Sir! I really appreciate this!"

"Did...did you just curtsy?" Stiles chuckled.

I blushed. "I don't know. Maybe. Don't judge me!" I waved my hand at him. They both chuckled, but Stiles came over to me and wrapped me in his arms. I peeked out at the sheriff.

He looked tired, but happy...or resigned. "Alright, alright you two. How about you go get some pizza for dinner while I wash the day away and then we can watch-," he gestured to the t.v.

"Episode IV," supplied Stiles.

"Episode IV," repeated the sheriff. He looked at the two of us. "Getting pizza, that should be safe enough, right?"

.=

Stiles said he had a USB car charger, so I unplugged my phone and grabbed my bag

while he called to order the pizza for pick-up. Ten minutes later we were in his Jeep.

As soon as I shut the door I looked expectantly at Stiles. He smirked. "It's here," he pointed to his charger and I plugged in my phone. It was still so dead it took several seconds to even register that it was connected. "Looks like it may take awhile," he chuckled as he started the Jeep and pulled out of his driveway.

We drove in silence for several minutes but it didn't take him long to reach across the middle gap between the bucket seats and take my hand.

As the occasional streetlight passed over us we would pass glances at each other. We seemed to be the only vehicle on the road.

I was so giddy with gratitude; I had a place to stay, I felt redeemed from my past, and I had Stiles. I wanted to shout from the rooftops, but would settle for singing loud and unencumbered. I turned to Stiles, my boyfriend! I grinned, and asked if I could turn on the radio. He nodded and said, "Sure."

I turned the dial with my free hand and the radio came to life but there was no music as the deejays talked. "Do you mind if I...?" I gestured to the scanner.

"Sure, go ahead," Stiles shrugged.

I turned the old scanner dial until I could find a clear station. The first one I found was country, the second was classic rock, but the third time was the charm. It was already in the middle of the song, but I recognized the heavy rock with soaring violins.

I mimicked the vocalist's gravely screams as best I could.

This is how it feels when you take your life back!

This is how it feels when you finally fight back!

When life pushes me I push harder!

What doesn't kill me makes me stronger!

I was no singer, but I sang with the female vocalist and vocal fried my best while Stiles watched me in shock...and tried not to laugh at my 'wild side' as I sang at him.

Don't you give up on me!

You're everything I need!

The music broke into a stirring electric guitar riff that lead into the scream-sung chorus. I leaned towards Stiles and used our clasped hands like a microphone.

No! Not gonna die tonight, we've gotta stand and fight forever!

No! Not gonna die tonight, we've gotta fight for us together!

No, we're not gonna die tonight!

It was at that very moment that Irony appeared in the form of a frightened deer. The first thing that caught my eye was the puff of a misty cloud that sort of shimmered in the glare from the next streetlight we were fast approaching. It took a moment to register that it was an animal breathing hard as it bounded across the road mere feet in front of us. We let go of each other's hand; Stiles gripped the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes.

As it was, I was still leaned towards the middle and was not properly protected by the shoulder strap of my seat belt. I gasped and threw up my hands as I was flung forward face-first into the dashboard. My wrists collapsed upon impact and my face smashed into the radio and the bridge of my glasses snapped. We screeched to a stop in the middle of the circle of light. The pain was instantaneous and everything turned red as blood dripped into my eyes from a gash on my forehead. I was no doctor but I was pretty sure my nose was broken, my wrists were as well if not fractured, and a concussion was entirely possible. Blood poured out of my nose, over my mouth, and down my chin.

"Oh My God!" yelled Stiles as he watched the deer vanish into the trees on my side. I sat up slowly. He looked at me for the first time and threw off his seatbelt to turn fully towards me. "Are you ok?" he asked, panic in his voice.

"Yes. No," I reached up to hold a broken half of my glasses to my eye with one barely functional hand and tried to stem the flow of blood from my nose with the sleeve of the other. I looked over at Stiles on the verge of panic myself but a figure with eyes that glowed green stood outside behind him and I screamed. I dropped the broken specs as adrenaline pushed the pain away and I lunged forward to pull him to me.

Glass sprayed over us as the figure broke through the driver side window and Stiles was hauled away from me easily. He grunted as he slammed into the door. The figure leaned down to peer at us through the broken window. "Hello, Stiles," said a woman's voice.

I blinked to clear away the blood that still dripped into my eyes, which made my vision even more blurred. I could just make out her green eyes as they continued to glow, the flash of sharp white teeth as she talked, and the deadly claws that were wrapped around Stiles throat.

"Who are you? What do you want?" I asked.

She looked from Stiles to me, smirked, and then looked back to Stiles who looked shocked. "You're dead," he gasped.

"I'm not here to catch up or play games. I just have a message for Derek and Scott," said the woman as though Stiles hadn't spoke.

"How do you know-?" I started then looked at Stiles when he gasped. I looked and saw that she had dug her claws into his throat just enough to cause blood to trickle down onto his shirt. "Never mind!" I screamed. "What's the message?!"

She again looked from Stiles to me before she smiled wickedly and said, "Tell them Kate Argent says 'hello'." My eyes widened as recognition dawned on me. As if that was her cue, she said, "And that I'm coming for them." Then she flicked her wrist and broke Stiles' neck.