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The way to the Stilinskis’ house was second nature to her and she ran it blindly. The sun was still above the trees so Stiles would still be at school, likely at practice. She didn’t know if she was happy or not for that. Happy she thought. He would be kind and she did need him, but she also needed space. The trees parted and the house came into view, with it came her ability to breath again. Safe. Warm. Safe. Home. Stiles. Food. Safe. It had become a second den to her. She climbed up and into Stiles’ window entirely on instinct. She landed with less grace than she’d normally have, tears and stress blinding her and locking her limbs. Hastily she began taking off her shoes as she sobbed, it was important to take your shoes off when inside and you didn’t wear shoes on or in the bed. She wouldn’t forget people rules even when she was upset, it was a point of pride and she didn’t want Stiles to be annoyed. Once they were off she staggered to his still messy bed, the one she had been asleep in only a few hours ago, and dove under his crumpled comforter.
Immediately her senses where full of their mixed scent but predominantly his, years of laying here couldn’t be overcome by her own few months. It was soothing, being surrounded by his stilesness. The bed a mix of his strong soaps and deodorant, his anxiety and arousal, his skin and sweat. The world did not make sense, it constantly fell apart around her. She would think she finally understood and then it would change, ground giving way to sinkholes that threatened to destroy her. But Stiles was steady, he was her one constant. She would stay here and cry until he came home, he would enter and find her and make her feel better and safe and love her and tell her how she could fix it. Stiles knew lots of things and understood people, he might have ideas.
Wrapping herself into a tight ball in her dark cocoon of blankets she let the sobs fully over take her. There had been so many things she was scared of, so many things that she had been safe from when she was a coyote. No one could be hurt, no one could be disappointed, no one could reject her if she was alone in the woods. She wished she could go back, she wished they never brought her back to the human world. Things were better when she was a coyote, there had been no one to look at her like that. She struggled to take a deep breath, trying to take comfort in the smell of Stiles surrounding her. This was a good thing about being human, having him as a mate — boyfriend. She had to remember that, she had to make it be enough.
“Malia?”
She stills under the blankets, as if it will make her invisible, like the rabbits and squirrels she’d ate tried to fool her. She hadn’t realized Sheriff Stilinski was even home. He usually wasn’t around this time of day, he must have come home to get something. She heard the sound of his heavy tread coming towards her, then the bed dipped and slowly, carefully, the layers where peeled away from her enough that he could see her face even as she tried to hide it in the mattress and under hair. He rested his hand on her shoulder, warm, comforting and grounding.
“Sweetheart, what happened?”
How did she even phrase it? How did she make the words come out? She didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want it to be any more real than it already was. But Sheriff Stilinski’s blurry kind face was waiting and she wouldn’t be able to hide this forever. He wouldn’t let her be silent forever, he was like Stiles like that. Or Stiles had gotten it from him. She couldn’t go home again, not ever, she’d have to live here now for real. That or go back to the woods and hope she could make it work.
“Dad found out.”
His face fell with pity and understanding. “Oh, sweetheart.”
She squeezed her eyes closed and half buried her face again in Stiles’ mattress, breathing in his comforting scent to keep come crying more. He brushed her hair away from her face. It made her feel better, her face had gotten too hot and she couldn’t really see under it.
“I don’t know what will happen. It could take time but he might come around. I know that for me, it would take so much more than what you did and what you are to stop loving Stiles. He might come to terms with it and things might be better because he knows. But he might never be able to accept any of it, but even if he never does I need you to know — it was not your fault. You were a child, a special child in an extreme situation you had no control over. You did things you had no way to control and that you would never choose to do if you had a choice. You are not bad and you are not evil. Hell, you might be the best thing that’s happened to my family in a long time.”
His voice was very warm and kind and scary as a leg trap because of it, the opportunities to disappoint again mounting. Malia whimpered and tried to duck back under the covers.
Sheriff Stilinski pried more of the comforter away from her. “Oh no, none of that.”
She braved a look back up at him. His face was still very soft and kind. Stiles had a good dad.
“Peter doesn’t know anything about this right?” He asked.
Malia shook her head.
“Okay, good. Let’s try and keep it that way. I have no idea what that maniac will do if he learns about this and I don’t like the idea of him trying to use it to assert his own paternal rights.”
Her curiosity was the only thing strong enough to break through her misery.
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t picture that asshole doing anything that’s not for his own gain and I refuse to let him drag you into any of his business.”
“But then where do I go if I can’t go back?”
He huffed out a sigh and gave her such a dad look.
“Here.” He said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Until this is sorted out you’re staying here, you practically live here as it is. And if he doesn’t come around — Malia, no matter what happens you will always have a home with us. No matter what you’ll always have a father.”
Sheriff Stilinski got all blurry again as she clawed her way out of Stiles’ blankets. His arms wrapped her in a tight hug and she made his shoulder wet with her tears. He held her for a long time and she felt much calmer, better. When they pulled apart he smiled at her kindly.
“Feeling better?”
She nodded shyly.
“Good.” He said and slapped his thighs. “Let’s go get ice cream.”
Malia perked up. “Ice cream?”
Sheriff Stilinski stood up, hands on his hips. “Yeah. Ice cream. C’mon it’s my treat.”
He offered her a hand up and she took it smiling. Everything still hurt, everything was still horrible. But she still had a family. It was not the one she had wanted back, but it was one that wanted her. Stiles wanted her, his dad wanted her. They liked her being in their lives, made space for her to exist in their home. Malia was a survivor, she adapted, even when it was hard and scary and hurt so much. But maybe this didn’t have to hurt too badly. Maybe this time her tears would be met with hugs and kisses and promises of kindness and not a lonely den and an empty mangled car smelling of death. At minimum this end of the world would have ice cream and that was already a vast improvement.
She forced her shoes back on and followed Sheriff Stilinski down to his patrol car.
“Is Stiles going to get ice cream too?” She asked as they got in.
Sheriff Stilinski snorted. “Not with those grades he isn’t.”
Malia smiled mischievously. She couldn’t wait to see Stiles’ reaction to that.