Work Text:
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: October 2, 2:39 AM
Subject: (no subject)
So, I don’t know if you even use this email anymore, but it’s the only method of contacting you I have since you didn’t leave a forwarding address with the apartment complex (and don’t think I didn’t have my dad check) and your cell phone number has been disconnected. I’m sure you had a valid reason for leaving, and I’m trying not to begrudge you for it since I guess your life was nothing but shit ever since you came back to Beacon Hills, but Scott just nearly got his arm gnawed off by a wood nymph gone feral and your uncle has conveniently disappeared along with all of your family’s old information, so. Things have been kind of a mess here, and it’s not like I can just talk to anyone about this, and since I’m largely convinced that writing anything to this address is going to be like talking to dead air, I figured it wouldn’t hurt. Maybe you want to know what’s happening since you skipped town. Or maybe you don’t, I really don’t know.
That thing we did, becoming substitute sacrifices, Deaton told us that it was going to draw supernatural creatures towards Beacon Hills. I thought after Jackson we didn’t have anything to worry about, since, ha ha, hadn’t we already been through the worst? I think Scott would disagree with me now that he’s painfully regrowing skin the dryad tore off with her teeth. Deaton says that injuries caused by supernatural creatures take longer to heal than normal injuries. Kind of like injuries from an alpha, even though Scott is an alpha now. There’s all these rules in this world of yours that nobody ever bothered to tell us - and I’m blaming you for most of that, since you were a (and I’m using this without trying to make a pun here) beacon of information and tended to skulk around in shadows instead of sharing that knowledge with the rest of us.
It’s just kind of weird now, how things have changed. My dad sat down and made me go through the whole thing again even though I’d already told him once about the distribution of power between supernatural forces here, because the first time he hadn’t believed me enough to listen. I mean, I’m kind of terrified that now he’s in danger - but, shit, I mean, he was almost used as a sacrificial heroin dose, right? So how much more danger could this possibly put him in? At least he has all the information now.
Well, most of it. I’m giving you the option to fill in the rest of the blanks, the parts that I suppose rightfully belong to you. (It’s jarring when you aren’t still lurking around in the forest watching all of us, tbh.)
I’m not really sure that you care. I’m really not sure why I’m writing this down. But, hey, my school counselor told me that perhaps I should consider keeping a journal, and though I think she meant it in an ironic sort of way, because hey! Alpha emissary and all that, the idea might not be half bad. And writing to your defunct email address is sort of like only writing to myself, right?
-Stiles
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: October 10, 7:02 PM
Subject: (no subject)
We got rid of the dryad, in case you were wondering (I’m sure you weren’t.). Deaton figured out that wood nymphs always have a tree that is “theirs”, like some bizarre tree-hugging marriage, and if you get rid of the tree, you’ll kill the dryad. That worked out well, so I mean hey, looks like we can actually achieve some small measure of success ourselves, huh? Who knew? (Let’s not talk about the fines we got hit with after one of the deputies found us trying to put out the tree fire once the oak was charred enough. Only you can prevent forest fires!)
I guess this whole new supernatural thing in town, I don’t know, this whole situation has made us all really re-assess our lives. Like, how the hell are we supposed to deal with this stuff without anybody else? I don’t know, the whole time we’ve been stumbling through this SURPRISE LYCANTHROPY thing, you’ve been there broodily muttering bits and pieces of information we needed. And now it’s just us, with Deaton, and occasionally Allison’s dad, who knows way more than he lets on pretty much all of the time. And I guess it should be weird, that we are working with hunters, but I mean, it’s better than working against them, right?
Lydia and Deaton have been working together to try and deal with this whole “banshee” thing. I swear, Lydia could make anything look good, even being a harbinger of death, or whatever she is. But I’m glad she’s on our side, and now she seems pretty invested in helping everybody out. Probably because of Aidan. Who, by the way, you will be surprised to learn is only a raging douche half of the time. That’s 50% better than it was with Jackson, so I’m counting it as a win there. It’s the little things.
Scott is a great alpha, in that he pretty much just makes decisions based on his gut and his warm, fuzzy feelings, but that’s Scott for you, and I guess we wouldn’t want him any other way. So in that regard, he’s a pretty good alpha. At least everyone is alive and doing okay. He’s slowly getting the hang of some of the stranger points of alpha-hood - like, could you ever become a wolf? Like, totally a wolf? Cause I think he and Deaton are working on that. But I never saw it from you, so I wasn’t sure if that was a PROPHETIC DESTINY thing or not. Laura had a full-wolf form, didn’t she? (I’m sorry. For all of that.)
As for me, I’m not sleeping much. Every time I try to sleep, all I get are nightmares. People dying, the pack dying, people who have actually died dying again... it’s not something that’s particularly awesome. But this is what the OTC sleep aid section of drugstores was made for, am I right? Ha ha. Wow, there is no way you care about any of this.
I’m just going to start referring to your email as my “internet journal”.
-Stiles
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: October 16, 3:22 AM
Subject: (no subject)
YOU COULD HAVE TOLD US THAT VAMPIRES WERE REAL.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: October 16, 3:51 AM
Subject: (no subject)
No, seriously, dude, what the fuck is up with that? Lydia got BITTEN. Like, actually legit bitten by a VAMPIRE, and I’m not talking about the Edward Cullen sparkly variety here. Luckily for everyone on the PLANET she’s immune to practically everything, but she’s still not very happy about it, and neither is anyone near her right now. And now these things know that there’s something up with our little group here since she didn’t die or turn (and I swear, weren’t there some rules about mutual blood exchange for vampires to turn people? Was that just some Anne Rice crap I read somewhere? Why isn’t that the same for werewolves?!), so now we’re dealing with even more stuff that’s routinely threatening my continued existence.
It’s only adding to the nightmares. Okay, this is stupid to be telling you this, but since this is my journaling space now, I’m going to write this down. Or type, whatever. Now all the things I saw in bad B-grade horror stories are real and I can’t figure out if tomorrow is going to be my last day on this earth, at least in my fleshy body. Because damn, by this point, I’m just assuming ghosts are real, too. Seriously, what’s next? Sasquatch?
Oh god, Sasquatch is real, isn’t it. (Don’t answer that.)
My dad is trying the best he can, but you know, he can only do so much without telling the rest of the department what they are up against. Scott’s trying to come up with a plan that doesn’t include using one of us humans as bait. I’ll let you know how well that goes, because I’m 75% sure I’m going to be the bait. It should be Lydia, but now they know about her so it’ll never work. Ugh, this is the worst.
One day you’ll come back to Beacon Hills and find that it’s been taken over by stuff you thought was made up on the internet from old mythology, and I’m going to be the first person to say “I told you so”.
-Stiles
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: October 22, 11:39 PM
Subject: (no subject)
We managed to kill one of the vampires due to my insomnia and the fact that I marathoned the first five seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Turns out, it matters what kind of wood you use for your stake (ha ha ha, don’t go there). I’m going to give you three guesses as to what wood we used, and the first two don’t count. Are you ready? Yeah, your favorite of all time, mountain ash. WHO KNEW? (Ugh, probably Peter, that bastard, I would kill to have his stupid laptop here.)
I can’t figure out when this became my life. I mean, yeah, sure, best friend turning into a werewolf, I’m kind of invested. But I guess I thought that it would eventually stop and settle down, like, you know, he’d be pretty moody for three days a month and I’d probably have to lint-roll all my shirts after the full moon, but we’d just have a normal life that didn’t routinely get threatened or anything. And it seems like this is just not in the cards. I don’t know if you play poker, but I went through a phase where I was playing online for like months just to see if I could figure out a betting pattern among the other players (statistics project gone horribly awry, don’t ask) and I think Scott becoming this ONE TRUE ALPHA upped the ante or something, because we are never going to be left alone again.
Deaton wants us to make a formal pact with the Argents? Allison is basically running that show now, which is great, but also terrifying in a lot of ways. She and Isaac are... well. I guess you probably didn’t see that coming, since you violently threw Isaac out of your loft by being a colossal dick, but they are kind of a “thing” now. Yes, I just typed that. Surprised much? I keep trying to be this supportive friend to Scott about it, but he’s sort of pulling a Derek and ignoring the entire topic. So I don’t know how he feels about it. It’s all pretty fricking weird.
It would be really helpful if you could maybe text Scott to give him alpha pointers or something. He doesn’t say anything out loud, but I think he’s struggling through the finer bits of this.
I don’t know where you are. It’s weird that I am even thinking about it, like is he on an extended vacation? Dude, I can’t picture you on vacation. I’m trying to piece together the image right now, complete with a beach chair and a drink with an umbrella in it, and I just can’t. But most of all? I really hate that it’s weird that you aren’t here. Like, I spent half a year hoping you would bite it and now I’m sort of vaguely afraid that you really did. When the hell did that happen?
You’re an asshole for making us care about you and then just running off without a word.
-Stiles
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: October 25, 1:08 AM
Subject: (no subject)
Sprained my ankle running from these stupid vamps, which is, I suppose, not the end of the world, but it sure is making everything a lot harder. Oh, and before you (don’t) ask, yes, I was the delicious human bait. I mean, who else was it going to be? It’s like my life has been reduced to sleeplessness and being that wacky, slapstick human member of the pack without skills.
We’re not even done with all the vampires yet and we’re pretty sure there’s something else in town, now. These things aren’t even waiting in line anymore, are they? My dad has been called out for a few weird things that turned out to be nothing, in that “nothing” way that means they are definitely actually something. Strange images, hallucinations, people claiming stuff was moving around on its own - you know, paranormal crap you see in bad ghost movies. I don’t think it’s ghosts, but it’s something, and that’s already more than I think we can handle.
Also, this is going to sound really weird, but were you back in Beacon Hills recently? I’m not trying to get all pissed-off, thanks-for-the-reunion on you, but I’ve been going to your old house to see what I could find there (I’m sorry, I don’t know if this is breaking some kind of unvoiced promise or whatever, but we’re really operating without much to go on and you never know) and stuff has been moved around? Like, I know I left some of the things the way they were, and then I went back a few days later, and it was definitely not set up the same way. So, if you’ve been playing interior decorator with the feng shui in the burned-out shell house, could you let me know? It’s not exactly making me feel more comfortable.
We need a better way to get rid of these vampires. There’s only so much staking I can really do.
Although, now that I can’t really walk well without crutches - and awesome, if this doesn’t heal, there goes my lacrosse career this season - I guess I’m in full-on research mode. Hooray. They didn’t even give me pain meds that might have helped me sleep.
-Stiles
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 1, 4:41 AM
Subject: (no subject)
Witches. For the love of god, why. Why is this even my life right now?
Seriously, I thought I had come to terms with this. I had made my PEACE with this being my life: the constant danger, the increased amount of daily pain, the nightmares. But suddenly it’s like, oh hell no, this is way too much. Like I can’t do this anymore. It’s pretty stupid to use the same analogy I did last year, but it feels like I’m drowning. And while the school guidance counselor is, you know, good, it’s hard to tell her anything when I know she’s the emissary for the psychotic demon wolf who murdered two of my friends. That’s just hard for a guy to forgive and forget, you know?
And I want to tell Scott, but Scott is so overloaded with this alpha thing - he’s trying so damn hard, and he’s doing pretty good. I mean, we haven’t suffered any substantial injuries and my ankle is already healing and we’ve taken out a number of threats, but he’s obviously still struggling. I can’t add more to that, I’d feel like the worst friend ever. I’m not the one dealing with sudden alpha powers or a pack that is “mine” or anything related to turning wolfy during a moon, so I feel like I should just... not. Not bring it up. It’s just more on this plate then, right?
Ha, ha, so I tell your email address this instead. I hope some employee at Google is going through un-used addresses and reading this, trying to figure out what kind of Dungeons and Dragons LARP I’m doing.
God, you know, I never thought I would actually miss you. Because, let’s be honest, you had a habit of throwing me around a lot, and looking really scowly, and generally just kind of being a grade-A dick, but somehow with you creepily showing up at the weirdest times and places, it just doesn’t feel like Beacon Hills anymore. It would be nice if you could drop a line to let us know that you aren’t, like, bleeding out in a ditch with 15 wolfs bane bullets in your arms or something.
I know that you aren’t reading these, but man, it pisses me off. After everything we’ve been through - all that mutual life-saving? You’re just going to disappear like you were never even here.
-Stiles
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 3, 1:40 AM
Subject: (no subject)
They hurt my dad.
I knew it, I knew this would happen after he found out - and it did, and he’s in the hospital. He’s okay, he’s alive, but it’s my fault he’s hurt, because I got him into this mess. I put him in harm’s way the second I got involved in all this stuff, the minute I threw my allegiance in with the pack, and that’s fine, it would be fine if it were just me, but I can’t lose him. I can’t be responsible for losing him, I won’t be able to handle that. I haven’t slept in two days and he’s got a broken arm and cuts all over his chest, and christ, it’s my fault.
And we don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do, because how do you stop witches? I don’t know, and Deaton is trying to give us all the help he can - and I guess he’s Scott’s emissary now, which makes sense because you guys are gone - but there’s only so much we can do when we don’t know where they are, or what they want, and they already have the jump on us like this. Shit, I don’t know what to do. I just need someone to talk to about this, because this crushing feeling of guilt feels like it’s pushing me down into the ground, into a hole I’ll never be able to climb back out of. I don’t know how to deal with this. Scott is acting like he thinks it’s his fault, and part of me wants to say that it is his fault, all of this right now, and then I feel like the worst friend ever, because what kind of friend thinks something like that about his best friend?
Everything is falling apart. I don’t think we can hold this together anymore - I don’t think I can hold this together anymore.
-S
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 3, 2:02 AM
Subject: re: (no subject)
Tell Deaton to do a locator spell on the head of the coven - it’s like their alpha. There are charms you should be able to wear that will throw off any energy headed your way. I’ve attached a picture of several charms you can use for protection - it’s best if they are made from iron, as it’s like the witch version of wolfs bane.
Give one to your father: under his bed, in his pocket, I don’t care. Just make sure he keeps it on him. Give one to Scott’s mother as well.
Take care of yourself.
-D
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 3, 2:45 AM
Subject: re: (no subject)
Are you fucking kidding me right now, you actually check this email? I’m so pissed at you that I can’t even deal with that, because this other stuff comes first. I already sent the picture to both Lydia and Allison, and hopefully between the two of them, they can quickly get some charms made. I’ll send it to Scott to take to Deaton, too, because maybe he knows something that can help make it more potent or spread out over a larger area.
You are getting a scathing email after this is done, because wow, I can’t even with you right now.
-S
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 5, 12:39 AM
Subject: (no subject)
I was prepared to sit down and send you paragraphs of why you are the worst person who ever lived, for reading emails for the past month and saying nothing, for knowing that shit was happening in Beacon Hills and just leaving us to our own devices, but, well. The protection charms seem to be working, and Deaton says that they are bouncing back spells at the witches and probably wreaking a lot of havoc there, so. Thanks, for that. I’m still pretty mad that you have been privy to my innermost thoughts for this long and didn’t bother telling me, but I guess you have the right to distance yourself from more supernatural shit that will only spell doom for everything you care about. I mean, I think it’s a pretty dick move, but it’s your move to make.
I have about five hundred questions for you, and I know you won’t even bother answering most of them, but now that I know you read my jumbled, private thoughts I am pretty sure you owe me, and can answer at least one: are you okay?
-S
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 5, 8:32 AM
Subject: re: (no subject)
We’re fine. I didn’t check this until halfway through October. By then, I didn’t really know how to answer - you seemed to be doing just fine talking to dead air, so I thought maybe it was good for you to get things out someplace. It seems like there is a lot happening in Beacon Hills, so it might be for the best if you keep me informed. I can’t replicate Peter’s bestiary of information, but I might know people who can help.
-D
PS- make sure you get some sleep, it’s dangerous to go without it
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 5, 9:14 AM
Subject: re: (no subject)
I’m assuming that you won’t tell me where you are, which is fine and totally your business and everything else, but I want you to know that it was a dick move to leave without really saying anything to anyone. Like, how were we even supposed to know what you were doing? Did you think the rest of us just wouldn’t care or something? Pretty rude, considering all the times we’ve gone out of our way to help you out.
And are you really lecturing me on getting enough sleep? I remember when you were living in a sewer and barely sleeping at all. Plus, you just smelled like garbage all the time, and if I was picking it up without HEIGHTENED WEREWOLF SENSES then I can only imagine how powerful it had to be for everyone else.
Next week would have been Erica’s birthday. I’m not sure if you know this, or care to know this, but I feel that as the person who turned her, it should be somewhere in your knowledge bank. Hopefully things with the witches get taken care of before then, because I don’t really want to be caught unaware and killed while putting flowers on her grave. I know she’ll hate the thought of it, but I’ll try to pick the best kind of flowers - the stuff that is strong and beautiful and wild, just like she was.
My dad is finally out of the hospital, so at least that’s good. Any idea on where Uncle McCreepy would have gone off to? I don’t really like the thought that he’s out there unaccounted for.
-S
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 5, 10:48 PM
Subject: re: (no subject)
I’m glad your father is okay. No, I don’t have any idea where Peter is, but keep your eyes open, because I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything good. And yes, Stiles, I am lecturing you on getting proper amounts of sleep. You are the one who bared your soul to me over email, remember?
I think it’s more appropriate that you go to her grave than me. The only thing I ever gave her was an early death, and I doubt she’d be happy to see me paying a visit there. But she liked snapdragons. I know they aren’t really traditional bouquet flowers, but she once said she had liked making them open and close like jaws when she was little. So there’s that.
-D
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 5, 11:37 PM
Subject: re: (no subject)
You know, if you want to talk about this, I’m here. I get that losing a pack member is nothing I’ll ever be able to understand (god willing), but I know what loss is like, and I’m willing to listen if you need a sounding board. It seems like you just never really had anyone there in that capacity. Were you lonely, before you made the betas? Was it to make a pack, like a family? Or was it about protection from whatever was out there? I don’t really think it was your fault that Erica and Boyd left - it was their choice. And that was the whole point of the bite, wasn’t it? A choice. They made a choice, and then they made another one, and it wasn’t your fault. (Jackson might have been, but he’s an asshole anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.)
-S
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 6, 12:15 AM
Subject: re: (no subject)
No, I don’t want to talk about it. Losing a pack member isn’t just like losing someone you love, it’s more than that, it’s like losing part of who you are, and when you are an alpha, and they are your betas, you can feel it in your bones. I wake up in the morning and I know that Erica and Boyd are dead, and nothing I will ever do will shake that feeling. There’s nothing you can do about it, so what good would talking about it do?
-D
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 6, 12:26 AM
Subject: re: (no subject)
Um, dude, it kind of sounds like you want to talk about it.
-S
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 6, 1:08 AM
Subject: re: (no subject)
Well, if you change your mind, the option is on the table.
-S
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 12, 11:57 AM
Subject: (no subject)
The witches are dead - most of them, at least, because Scott, Isaac, and the wonder twins took them out. I wasn’t sure I would be okay with them joining forces. I mean, has everyone conveniently forgotten all the shit they did? I give Lydia a free pass since she seems to like Aidan or something, but there’s really no excuse for this. Whatever, no one listens to me. Anyway, the witches are either dead or gone, and Scott is “positive” that they won’t bother us again, which means there’s probably a 50/50 chance they come back. I mean, I love the guy, but letting homicidal magic-users go just seems like a bad idea to me.
So I know it’s not the last thing that we’ll have to take down, but Jesus, I mean, can we get a break? Thanksgiving is coming up this month and I’d like to actually be thankful for things like having all my original limbs, but at the rate things are going, this seems more and more unlikely.
I guess Scott is doing okay. He doesn’t seem overly stressed, and I think he’s slipped into the alpha persona better than anyone thought he would - I mean I knew he would be great and all, but he had a pretty slow start at the whole werewolf thing in the first place, so. You never know, I guess. He’s one of those natural leaders, only because people tend to automatically assume he’ll make the correct choice. (Which is usually true, except when picking characters in games he thinks will be able to beat me.)
I guess this is serving as your update that everyone here is still alive.
-S
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 15, 2:47 AM
Subject: (no subject)
I thought things were going to be different. I didn’t think that Cora would replace Laura, but I thought that she would... fix things. She won’t say anything about the time she was away, and I don’t know how to handle that. Is it my fault she was alone and resorted to things she doesn’t want to talk about just to stay alive? I don’t know. Maybe it is. Maybe Laura should have been able to feel her there, but things were such a mess after... well. Things weren’t really the best, so I don’t blame Laura for not knowing.
She wants to go to the pack in the Badlands, because she says she knows the alpha there that will take us in. But I can’t imagine being in anyone’s pack who isn’t family. It’s the only pack I’ve ever known, when it comes to being a beta. I don’t think I’ll be able to submit to another alpha who I don’t know, who I haven’t seen in action, and whose respect hasn’t been earned yet. Politics are complicated, and I think part of me misses things in Beacon Hills the way they were - simple. The only rule was survival.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 15, 3:31 AM
Subject: re: (no subject)
I know that you feel like you have to hang on to her so tightly - and dude, seriously, I don’t blame you for feeling that, because some days the only thing I can think about is how I need to make sure my dad is still okay at the end of it. But she was alone for a really long time, and maybe part of her being, I don’t know, Cora, and by the way she is totally your sister through-and-through for that, is because suddenly there’s this protective thing watching her every move, taking away that independence that she had for so long? It would be an adjustment, you know?
You know, I never really asked, but what kept you from being an omega the whole time that you were here, before we realized Uncle McDouche was the alpha? If being an omega is not having a pack, then shouldn’t you... idk, have been one then? Without an alpha or anything else? I’m not trying to pry, I’m just trying to figure out how these complicated WEREWOLF things work.
Is that what Cora is afraid of now - being omegas out there without protection? If so, you do realize that you could always come back to Beacon Hills. I’m sure being Scott’s beta would be the ultimate in humiliation, but I dunno, you already know everyone here and he’d probably just defer to you all the time anyway. Seems like the best of both worlds, if you ask me (which you didn’t, but I’m offering anyway).
-S
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 17, 1:12 PM
Subject: re: (no subject)
Cora convinced me to go meet the alpha she knew. The alpha is nice, but she’s not... she’s not family. Cora wants to stay here, because she thinks it’ll be a safe place for us to be without our past following us around. I don’t think she understands that our past is sometimes the only thing I have left.
Why the hell am I telling you any of this?
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 17, 4:51 PM
Subject: re: (no subject)
Because we’re friends, dude. At least I always assumed that we were. Okay, that’s a complete lie, and I know you can’t hear that shit over email. But at least in the past few months, I considered us friends. I don’t think you have very many of those or else you would understand how these warm, fuzzy feelings work.
And because you keep infuriatingly refusing to answer any of my questions, I’ll tell you something else: I don’t think you were a bad alpha. Yeah, you made some really shitty life choices (I mean a sewer, really?) and your habit of biting really emotionally unstable teenagers was probably not the best, but you were doing the best you could in a role you weren’t prepared for, and I think that you did pretty okay. I mean, I’m sure this means nothing now, but there it is. If you want it.
-S
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 21, 6:28 AM
Subject: (no subject)
I don’t know if I can stay here much longer. I know Cora likes it - she loves it. She feels like she is part of a family again. She was so young when the fire happened, I know it was different for her. She was alone, and young, and I had Laura and knew where my place still was. But I don’t think I can do this. I would rather be an omega than pretend to be part of a family where I know I don’t belong.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 21, 10:37 PM
Subject: re: (no subject)
I think you have a family here.
(I’m blaming all of this on Thanksgiving feelings, don’t you dare hold this against me later, you creep.)
-S
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 21, 11:19 PM
Subject: re: (no subject)
It’s a few days from the full moon, and I can feel the pull of it, and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t wishing I was in Beacon Hills. Seeing Scott and Isaac running with the new pack Scott’s built.
Are you sleeping more? You should look into some methods of calming yourself that don’t include medicines - like tea. Have you thought about tea? You seem like the poster child for its calming properties.
-D
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 21, 11:34 PM
Subject: re: (no subject)
You are such a comedian. Ha, ha, yes I’ve tried tea. It doesn’t react well with the Adderall.
I’m assuming that, given what you said earlier, you are in South Dakota. I’ve never been there, but I always wanted to visit Mt. Rushmore and take a perfectly posed picture that looks like I’m picking George Washington’s nose. Don’t even try to tell me that this isn’t the most genius idea ever. I assume that the moon out there is even better without all the city lights to wash it out.
I’m still not sleeping well, but it seems that the current pause in my own imminent death has at least helped with some of the nightmares. I guess being human and fragile doesn’t really mix well with supernatural elements, huh? My delicate brain can’t handle all this stress without overloading or something, idk.
Neither can it handle this book report that’s due in five days, but that’s probably something I should be putting my full energy into right now.
-S
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 25, 2:40 PM
Subject: (no subject)
[1 attachment: p0839853.jpg]
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 25, 3:16 PM
Subject: re: (no subject)
Are you shitting me, you did not just send me a picture of Mt. Rushmore. Dude, you did it all wrong. You look like you want to rip George Washington’s throat out, and that is SO not what I said. I mean, I’m pretty sure George Washington was not in the know on the existence of werewolves, but I still think he was pretty bad-ass and could probably have given you a good fight, no need to look so disdainfully at his rock face.
Also, Deaton says that there are, and I quote, “some energy surges coming towards Beacon Hills that seem mystical in origin.” I have no idea what this means other than the small break in horrible supernatural violence we were enjoying is probably over. I guess something nasty is coming, and it’s big enough that he’s getting some weird voodoo mind-vibe about it. Which is not comforting in the least.
My nightmares are back. I guess this means my stress levels are up, huh? Every time I close my eyes, I see people getting torn apart. I see that mechanic being smashed by my Jeep, I see Lydia torn and bloody. I’ve even seen Peter burned to a crisp, and that should have been satisfying. But, okay, and don’t take this the wrong way, because I totally have worrisome dreams about everyone else, too, right? But sometimes you’re in them, and things are tearing you apart, and it’s like having a panic attack when I wake up from it.
So, like, don’t die, I guess. This would be easier to make sure of if you were within the city limits still.
-S
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 30, 8:04 PM
Subject: (no subject)
Cora wants to stay here. We had an argument, and she doesn’t want to leave. But I don’t think I can take this stifling environment anymore - the wolves here aren’t family. I don’t know them. I’m expected to obey commands given by an alpha I don’t really trust, and to settle down in the area so that we can all be herded up on full moons. They don’t let us run during them. The forests aren’t safe, I guess, and though there haven’t been any hunters here, there’s been a sharp increase in them lately and the alpha doesn’t want to draw any attention. Trying to rein in my instincts during a full moon is worse than trying to keep the betas from killing each other was.
I have nothing if I leave, but at this point, it seems preferable to being caged.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: November 30, 10:55 PM
Subject: re: (no subject)
I don’t think I’ve been very subtle about this, and I’m only going to say this once (which is probably yet another lie), but why don’t you just come home? And yes, I mean home, as in the feeling of belonging and security that is associated with a particular place or group of people. Derek, I know that maybe you got confused with all the, oh, I don’t know, life saving, but I do actually care. Like, in a way that people care about other people they are friends with. Knowing you are unhappy is not something I particularly enjoy. (Knowing that Jackson is unhappy, on the other hand...)
Could you just come home? I swear, Scott will behave and I’ll make sure Isaac isn’t a dick, and I know that it would be weird since Scott and the Argents have kind of an agreement going on right now, but they know you and they haven’t tried to kill you... recently. That’s something, right?
And... dude, you can crash at my place until you find something else. I’m sure you don’t want to go back to the loft, since, well, shit happened there. So, just, you can stay, okay? You’ve done it once before and we managed to not kill each other. (Though I’m sure you wanted to.)
C’mon.
-S
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: December 6, 2:57 AM
Subject: (no subject)
Stay awake.
Another half an hour.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: December 6, 2:59 AM
Subject: re: (no subject)
Done.
Welcome home.
-S