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Around two am, right around when Scott had gotten up to get something to eat from the well supplied kitchen of the shabby apartment he shared with Stiles, he heard the bed creak once, twice and then a third time. A bit of panic spiked through him and he instantly forgot his growling stomach in favor of making sure Stiles was okay, so he peaked into the doorway of their bedroom, eyes instantly adjusting as he found Stiles tangled in the covers and sheets on the bed and lying across it in a way that made Scott doubt he was going to get his side of the bed back before Stiles woke up. But he wasn't worried about that, Stiles was fine and he could focus on the food he needed. He poured himself of bowl of Lucky Charms and grabbed a spoon that was probably clean, even though it was in the sink and not in the drain, and started to eat.
By the time he was halfway finished with the bowl, he heard Stiles' breathing pick up, ears so tuned to listening for any hitches or times when he stopped breathing, that he didn't even have to pay attention to keep hearing him. Scott abandoned his bowl on the kitchen table and headed over to the bedroom, keeping his steps quiet. He wasn't sure if Stiles was awake or if he was a different kind of dream, one that wasn't a nightmare, but even so, he didn't want to wake him up unless he was absolutely sure. Carefully pushing the door open, he frowned when he saw Stiles pushing at the covers, trying to get free from the ones he was entangled in. Quickly moving to help, he pulled the covers off of Stiles and tossed all but one off the bed, trying to wake up his boyfriend. Before the screaming started.
"Stiles," he said, sitting next to Stiles on the edge of the bed, despite the fact that Stiles was pushing him away too. "Stiles, come on, wake up." He ran his hand through Stiles' hair, tugging gently, like he knew Stiles liked, in the hopes of it drawing him out of the nightmare. Come on, Stiles, he thought, Please wake up. He didn't like not knowing how to wake Stiles up, short of turning alpha and getting him to wake up that way, but it was two am, there were people who lived all around them, he wasn't going to do that. So he settled for lying down next to him, rubbing a hand up and down his arm as he waited for Stiles to wake up slowly, already hearing his breathing go back to normal at the comforting touches Scott provided.
It was seven minutes before Stiles pulled himself out of the dream, gasping for breath and instantly, he crawled over to the side of the bed, coughing and gagging while his hands clutched the bedsheets. Scott was at his side without hesitation. "You're alright, you're alright," he murmured, rubbing Stiles' back and grabbing a bottle of water from the nightstand. "Here, c'mon, drink something. It'll help."
Stiles all but ripped the cap off the bottle, despite his shaky hands, and gulped down most of it in one breath. After he had started to focus more clearly, the thoughts between his dreams and reality becoming unblurred, he finished off the last of the water in sips, setting it down on the nightstand again with the mental note to refill it later. "Sorry," he said, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair, tugging gently to try and slow his heart beat. "Sorry ... just go back to bed." That's what he was planning on doing. He pulled away from Scott's hand, throwing the one blanket over himself and curling up in bed again. He hated waking Scott up. Especially since it happened more often than it should. They were his own stupid nightmares, he could deal with them without having to wake anybody up.
"You didn't wake me up," Scott promised, "I was eating." At the mention of food, he heard Stiles' stomach growl, no matter how hard Stiles tried to hide it. You couldn't hide things from a werewolf. Let alone your werewolf best friend-turned-boyfriend who knew you all too well and didn't need to listen to his stomach to know that you were always hungry. "Do you want me to make you anything?"
Stiles was about to shake his head before he thought it over, and there was a part of him that was still the Stiles from years ago, one who never turned down food, who said, "I'll just have whatever you're having." With that sentence, he started to sound a bit more like himself, enough that Scott could afford to try and make a weak joke,
"I'm having soggy cereal. Unless you want that ..."
"What kind of soggy cereal?" Stiles could only handle having a few types of cereal that had sat in milk too long.
"Lucky Charms."
Lucky Charms was not one of them. He didn't like the way the marshmallows got all soggy. It was gross and, while he would still eat them, he just preferred not too. Stiles got up then, pulling the blanket around his shoulders and tying it in a knot so it hung like a cape before he followed Scott into the kitchen and hopped up onto one of the coffee stained counters. Scott got out the box of Lucky Charms that was filled with entirely marshmallows and poured some in a solo cup, handing it to Stiles and kissing his forehead. Stiles wanted the same thing every time, even if he wouldn't admit it. The sugar just made him feels worlds better, like he was going into his sophomore year again with no clue of what was about to happen. He almost felt like himself again. As Stiles picked out rainbows and blue moons and red balloons, Scott grabbed his bowl of soggy cereal and sat down on the counter next to Stiles. They ate in silence for a few minutes, Scott having finished and still being a little hungry, so he stole a few marshmallows from Stiles until Stiles slapped his hand away playfully. That was how he knew he was back to his old self.
So he fished out a heart from the cup and told Stiles to open his hand. He placed the marshmallow in his hand and said, "There. It's my love for you." It took Stiles approximately .34 seconds to realize what Scott had just done before he ate the marshmallow with a stupid grin. "Did you just eat my love, Stiles?" he asked teasingly.
"It was my marshmallow," Stiles protested, chewing on it until it dissolved and he popped a four leaf clover in his mouth, grinning cheekily.
"No, it was my love for you," Scott insisted, getting off the counter to leave his bowl and the now definitely dirty spoon in the sink. "Now you don't get any kisses until tomorrow." He headed back for the bedroom.
"Scott!" Stiles called after him. Scott was able to hear the pout in his voice but they both knew that the other wasn't even a little upset. Just trying to find their footing after another nightmare. It was like this almost every time.
"Nope." The door to the bedroom closed. Stiles finished eating before he tossed the cup in the trash and followed Scott into the bedroom. Ten minutes had passed since Scott went in there, so Stiles figured he fell asleep, trying to be quiet as he pulled the blanket off his shoulders and put the other ones back on the bed. He laid down next to Scott, curling up facing him and turning off the light. Scott rolled over then, looking at Stiles with a small smile. "Took you long enough."
"I was still eating." Stiles said, rolling his eyes as his hand found Scott's and they laced their fingers together.
"Did you eat any more of my love?" Scott asked. Stiles nodded. "Stiles!"
"What, now I'll have your love until I have to take a dump."
Scott groaned, laughing as he did so. Just hearing the groan made Stiles laugh and that was more than enough to make Scott happy. "You're so disgusting."
Sounding smug, Stiles said, "And don't you forget it." He squeezed Scott's hand and Scott squeezed his back before they both fell asleep with every intention of ignoring their alarms