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"If I lived a million lives, I would've felt a million feelings and I still would've fallen a million times for you."
-R.M. Drake
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Stiles clutched at his chest, trying to calm his breathing. The dreams were a constant. He wasn't sure what was real and what was fake. However, he clutched on to whatever was the current. And what was the current? He wasn't quite sure, but it was painful.
His mother used to tell him that they were all reincarnations. They lived countless lives, their souls always seeking out the person that is their other half. She used to say that her soulmate was his father. That she would be reborn in every life just so she could encounter him again and again. That their souls were meant for each other.
Little Stiles always questioned if he had someone. And oh how he had hoped it had been Lydia, who was perfect to him. His mother would smile and always claim that you knew. You would know that person when you saw them. Because sometimes fate was kind and you recalled something about the person. Perhaps it was their scent? Or the way they laughed. Sometimes it was the warmth of their hugs or the butterflies they gave you. For his mother, it was the smile. For his dad, it was her laugh.
And how he wanted that more than anything, to know who was his other half. To find them and love them unconditionally, which his mother said was how it worked.
However, he didn't think he would ever find them. Perhaps it was the events of his life talking. That feeling of drowning threatening to encompass him. The deep despair that had begun to settle under his skin at moments of weakness always poking its head out when he wanted to give up.
But there was someone out there for him. Someone who would love him, that he was supposed to love. If he gave up, they would never meet. It might have been the only thing that kept him sane while he was going out of his mind.
He tried to remember that every time he woke from a dream, questioning what was reality and what was a dream. He would try to imagine what they were like. Try to convince himself that this person was looking for him and would make things better. But, even still, the thoughts couldn't prevent his dreams and reality from blurring.
"Woah, are you alright?" A voice flooded his senses. It finally felt like he could breathe. The world felt real, like he was grounded. And oh how he wanted to say he was fine, but he wasn't quite sure.
But that was when he noticed him. The blond was watching him, hands close enough to touch him but fearful of doing so. A clear look of concern was on his face.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Stiles took in a deep breath.
"You should go to the nurse. You look bloody awful." The voice was like a blanket, wrapping him in warmth. It was familiar, and that gave him goosebumps. The sound that left the other's lips was like a faint memory. What was frustrating was that he couldn't recall why. He didn't know why the other student's voice felt so well-known to him.
Stiles could see Scott and the others just on the other side of the blond before him. They wore various expressions of concern, like they wanted to intervene. But none of them stepped forward.
"I'll be alright." Stiles brushed past the other, heading towards his friends. There was a weird ache in his chest. It felt like a panic attack, but there was no reason to panic.
"Thank you," the words had Stiles stopping. He turned to look at the blond, confused. "I wanted to thank you."
"For what?" That itch was back, like he should remember something but couldn't.
The smile that was turned his way was sad, like the other was close to tears. Something about it pained him, made him want to hug the stranger.
"For doing the right thing," the words confused him. However the sudden slam of a locker door brought back the dream. He thought it had been just that, but the boy before him had been in it. His eyes wild one moment, clear yet sad the next. The three words on repeat as he reached out.
"Newt," the name rolled off his lips. It was like the sun was shining on him. He felt warm and whole. He felt complete for the first time.
"Hey there, Tommy." The blond's smile was warm and fond. Stiles rushed forward to cling to the teen, hugging him tightly. "Always with the dramatics," Newt chuckled but hugged him back.
He felt at home, he felt safe. He felt like the nightmares couldn't harm up, that the supernatural was nothing. Because he had Newt and they were alright.
Although he knew better.
"You're here..." It still was sinking in that he had his other half. That the other was before him and a faint memory just growing. He knew the boy before him without a doubt. Their bodies and soul knew each other.
"I'll always be with you, in this life and the next until the end of time."