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Post by malia on Dec 26, 2023 23:40:33 GMT -5
As simple as they are, Stiles words do reassure her. It’s like he knows exactly what she’s going to need to hear to remember the image of the baby, put the phone away, and try to enjoy the rest of their weekend. She’d lived her entire life without Ava, and now it’s like she can’t survive one night without her. Was this being a mother? It makes her feel a pang of guilt momentarily as she thinks about how her own mother must have felt when she lost her life because her daughter was a monster.
She quickly shakes those thoughts off and busies herself with the salad he tasks her with. She finds all of the ingredients and puts things together the way she thinks they should be. Salad was one thing she could handle and she thinks she does a pretty good job. And in no time at all, he’s handing her a plate full of food. His kiss is soft and she smiles as she smells the grilled meat. “Deer,” She says contentedly. “You really did make this the best birthday ever.”
She doesn’t waste any time before she digs in. She stabs her fork into the meat and picks the entire thing up, taking bites off of the steak instead of cutting bites and eating it. She knows it’s not good manners. She’s been human enough to learn that. And she also knows Stiles doesn’t always love it when she eats that way, but mostly it only bothers him if she does something like that in public. And it’s just the two of them, and it’s her birthday. “It’s so good,” She tells him, taking another bite. They eat in silence for a moment and she watches him. She can’t tell if he likes it as much as she does, but he doesn’t keep eating it.
“Thank you for everything,” She says moving her hands to his arm where he sits beside her. She mostly means her birthday…but there’s so much else. In a wave of rare sentimentality it all seems to hit her at once. “For not turning me away when you found me that night, for taking me to your house, for loving me….for Ava, and for this day.” It seems like a lot and the words don’t really seem to properly encompass the way she feels but it’s out there. And before he even has time to respond, her stomach gurgles. It feels like it suddenly flips inside of her, like maybe she’d eaten too fast. A wave of nausea overtakes her ands he has to put her plate down quickly and runs inside the tent to the small bathroom in the corner. She barely makes it in time to throw up everything she’d just eaten as she clutches the toilet rim with white knuckles.
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Post by stiles on Dec 27, 2023 0:32:07 GMT -5
Malia eats the same way she lives most of her life: in the middle of the intersection of animal and human. She uses a plate now and a fork, which is a few steps more towards human than she managed for the first six months she was human again. But it’s still not quite human. It’s what sets her apart from everyone else in the pack because no one else inhabited the form of a wild animal for almost seven years. It’s what makes her her. And right now, it makes Stiles all the more grateful that he planned this trip. That at least there are corners of the world where she can just be herself. Where he doesn’t have to remind her of what she should do in order to blend in with the rest of humanity. Here, his fiance can settle into her own skin, and it makes part of him want to stay right here forever.
It’s almost as if she can read his mind when she leans over to place a gentle hand on his arm. Maybe she can - maybe their bond has extended beyond chemosignals now that their lives are so intimately entwined. It’s hard to believe it’s anything less when she thanks him. A lump forms in his throat as he tries to process what she’s saying. For not turning me away when you found me that night, for taking me to your home, for loving me… for Ava. It’s the four walls of the cage he worried he built around her, holding her in Beacon Hills after she spent so much time trying to get away. For months now, he had wanted to find just the right way to thank her for staying, for making his house a home, for loving him, for bringing Ava into the world. It never occurred to him that she might feel like he had saved her in the same way she had saved him.
His eyes are glassy as he opens his mouth to try to put that sentiment into words, but before he has the chance, Malia’s eyes grow wide. He watches as the color drains completely from her face, leaving her skin ashen instead of its normal golden hue. “Mal…?” he asks, feeling his own stomach turn. But she claps her hand over her mouth as she sets her plate down roughly with the other before she runs across the porch. His own dinner is forgotten as he gets to his feet, jogging after her.
“Malia? You okay?” he asks again when he enters the tent and finds no sign of her. The sound of retching from the back corner is the only response he receives, and he jogs to the small bathroom at the back of the platform. She’s on her knees, her entire body heaving as she brings up her dinner. His own stomach flips in a sense of deja vu so strong, he half expects to find black blood staining her skin. But he tries to shove the thought aside as he drops down beside her, gathering her hair from the back of her neck. “It’s okay,” he tells her, even though it isn’t.
But what else is there to say?
This seems bad, Mal? You don’t get sick, Mal. Remember that time you almost died because your body decided it couldn’t handle wolfsbane, Mal?
Instead, he presses the back of his hand to her forehead and then her cheek in the same manner his mother hand back when he was a child. Her skin is clammy to the touch, but she’s not feverish. But that doesn’t seem to matter to her body at all as she heaves again, moaning with the force of it.
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Post by malia on Dec 27, 2023 17:13:44 GMT -5
Even through the heaving, she senses him before she feels his touch. The coolness of his hands as they gather her hair and pull it away from her face and neck. As always, there’s this immediate reassurance in his presence, this feeling like he’s completely a part of her now in a way that makes nothing seem right when he’s not right there by her side. But she doesn’t have time to think about it, or admire him, or even thank him again. She just clings to the toilet tighter as she empties everything she’d just eaten.
Malia doesn’t get sick. She can count on one hand the number of times she’s been sick and three of those times were because she was poisoned…by something. Usually wolfsbane. But she hasn’t been around anyone outside of the pack and her little family for weeks. She doesn’t catch colds, she’s never had the flu, hell…she didn’t even have chicken pox when all the kids in her glass in elementary school came down with it in the same week. She wasn’t a normal human, and something about were gene kept her and Derek and Scott from getting sick.
But right now, she feels really sick.
By the time she stops heaving there’s nothing left to come up and she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, grimacing at the horrible taste that remains as she leans back against the wall. She doesn’t immediately feel better, but the wave of nausea has passed and she wipes the tears from her watering eyes off of her cheeks. She looks at Stiles and his face is just a mask of worry, the smell coming off of him making her stomach reconsider being finished. It wasn’t that his worry made him smell bad, it just made him smell…strong.
“I”m sorry,” She says, leaning her head back against the wall. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I felt okay 20 minutes ago.” It wasn’t a lie. The day had been perfect, and nothing about the way she felt physically had been out of the ordinary. And the food he’d cooked was good, going down at least.
“I guess maybe I caught something?”
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Post by stiles on Dec 27, 2023 23:16:03 GMT -5
Malia doesn’t get sick. At least, not like he gets sick. The last time he saw her get sick like this was in the first trimester of her pregnancy. Before that, it had been New Year’s Day when her body had purged itself of the little wolfsbane she drank. Any other time, it had been the result of supernatural interference. Which is probably why his own stomach turns again as she dry heaves, her body struggling to realize there’s nothing left to bring up. This isn’t normal for her. It’s not a 24-hour flu bug or food poisoning. She doesn’t get carsick or seasick, and they’ve been stationary on dry land for hours now. And all he can picture is that black blood smeared across her cheek as she laid limp on the bathroom floor. It’s hard to shake the feeling that they’re not headed to that very same conclusion.
When the dry heaving stops, her chest rises and falls rapidly as she fights to catch her breath. He keeps rubbing the space between her shoulder blades, waiting to make sure that she’s done before he finally pulls away. She doesn’t seem like a ragdoll when she sinks down to the floor and slides back against the wall, but Stiles still watches her warily. Her cheeks are flushed, but the rest of her face still seems pale. He can see the way her hand shakes as she brings it up to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. And her voice shakes, too, when she speaks.
“God, Malia. Don’t apologize,” he says as he reaches for a washcloth, feeling his chest tighten with sympathy. He wets the washcloth with warm water before handing it to her to clean her face. She takes it from him as she tells him that she doesn’t know what’s wrong, that she was fine until she wasn’t. It doesn’t reassure him as that knot pulls tighter in his stomach. There was nowhere she had been that he hadn’t been, nothing she had eaten that he hadn’t eaten. He crouches down in front of her to press his hand to her cheeks and then her forehead again. She’s still cool to the touch. “You don’t catch things,” he tells her, brows knit together.
Malia’s big brown eyes stare back at him wordlessly. He keeps waiting for her to launch herself back across the small bathroom again, her whole body heaving with the force of her vomiting. But even after two minutes have passed, she’s still just sitting there, watching him. Reluctantly, he gets to his feet, moving back through their campsite to the porch where he grabs a water bottle from the cooler, and then returns to her. He sinks back down in front of her again as he twists off the cap and hands it to her. “Go slow,” he tells her when she eagerly reaches for it. “How do you feel now?”
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Post by malia on Dec 28, 2023 17:42:18 GMT -5
He tells her not to apologize, but she can’t help but feel the need to. This whole day, this whole trip he’d planned, all of it seemed almost ruined now. Of all the times for her body to decide it wanted to be a little human, she can’t believe it chose this day. Her birthday. The first night they’re spending away from Ava, after he’d just cooked her a delicious dinner. And it really was delicious. It tasted amazing going down. She hopes that he doesn’t think it’s because of the food.
“It’s not your dinner,” She tells him offhandedly as he kneels in front of her and presses his hand to her forehead like her mother did so many years ago if she thought she looked pale or seemed tired. He’s right, his words echo her sentiments. She doesn’t get sick. And she furrows her brow as she thinks about it again. Her stomach feels a little better now, but her body seems a little drained from the act of throwing up. She’s relieved when he brings her a water and she begins to gulp it, hoping it will wash some of the taste away, until he tells her to go slow. She immediately listens to him, her gulps turning into guarded sips.
After a few moments of slow drinking, he asks her if she thinks she can stand and she nods. He helps her up and they make their way to the bed. Normally she would fight him on the fact that he wanted her to lie down, but she doesn’t even feel the energy to do that at the moment. She climbs on top of the covers, flopping down on the oversized mattress and resting her hands on her belly. He sits down on the edge of the bed beside her, resting his hand on top of one of hers.
She feels guilty, but his hazel eyes only reflect sympathy back at her.
She’s just getting ready to tell him that she doesn’t want to waste the rest of their night away just lying around like this. Not when they’re out in the middle of this beautiful place with beautiful nature surrounding them. But it’s that moment when her stomach decides that not only is it not empty, but it hasn’t had enough of throwing up. She shoots up out of the bed, her hand coming to cover her mouth again as she quickly runs back to the small bathroom.
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Post by stiles on Dec 29, 2023 0:14:42 GMT -5
Stiles gives her a sad smile as she tells him that it wasn’t his cooking. He had known that already, but it doesn’t feel necessary to tell her that. He pushes her hair back behind her ear as he studies her instead, trying to puzzle out what had led to her being sick. Other than the vomiting, she seems fine. The color is returning to her face as she sips slowly on the water. Her breathing is back to normal now that she’s no longer heaving. Her hands aren’t shaking around the water bottle. She seems perfectly fine. Just like she had seemed perfectly fine all day, right up until the moment she had raced for the bathroom. In fact, she seems fine enough that if she were anyone else, he’d file it away as a fluke thing and move on. The problem is, it’s Malia.
“Do you think you can stand?” he asks her once he feels certain that she’s not going to get sick again. Malia nods without hesitation, but he still holds out his hand, helping her to her feet and then supporting her elbows as she moves to stand. There’s nothing unsteady about her posture, but Stiles still finds himself wrapping an arm around her waist as he leads her back towards the bed. They only have this one night here in this perfect place, but as much as he had wanted to make the most of every minute they had here, now he wants nothing more than for her to rest.
His mind is still working through their day as he helps her ease herself down onto the bed and then sits on the edge. There had been their car ride when she had fallen asleep - could that have been the culprit? Or could it be something in the environment here? His mind keeps settling on wolfsbane again, his chest feeling tighter every time the thought crosses his mind. Even if there’s no evidence at all to support this theory. But it’s nagging enough that he’s just about to pull his phone out and text Scott or Derek - or maybe both of them - when she suddenly shoots up from the bed again, racing back for the bathroom.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath as he quickly gets to his own feet and races after her. He pulls her hair back again and rubs her back as she brings up what little else is left in her stomach. This time, it doesn’t last as long, but her body seems to heave more forcefully, and his heart breaks for her. When she slumps back against the wall, he grabs another washcloth for her, and then another bottle of water. He waits as her breathing slows and her body relaxes before helping her to her feet again.
This time, when she lays back down, he’s not sure if she seems more drained or just more disappointed, but his own worry has increased tenfold. He rests his hand on top of hers again at her waist as he watches her, brows knit in worry. “Maybe we should just head home.”
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Post by malia on Dec 29, 2023 15:25:33 GMT -5
Just as quickly as it had started and ended, it starts again. And just like before, she has no idea what brings it on. But she’s right back in that tiny bathroom, Stiles holding back her hair while she clings to the white porcelain. It doesn’t last quite as long this time and she just feels exhausted when it’s over. He leads her back to the bed and she drinks a little more water. She scrunches her face, shaking her head, wishing the taste would go away. His hand moves right back to cover her own where they rest on her abdomen. But his words make her jerk quickly enough that his hand falls away as she turns on to her side and props herself up with her elbow. She pouts, her brown eyes pleading.
“No,” she exclaims quickly, maybe too quickly? “I don’t want to leave.” She offers him a smile, reaching for his hand and bring it to her lips so she can kiss it gently. He’s worried still, she can see it, but she can also still smell it. “I feel better already.”
That much was true. She didn’t feel badly, not really. Her stomach was sore, but that was probably just from being sick. “It’s my birthday, and you planned all of this, and it’s so beautiful here.” She doesn’t dare let go of his hand in case it makes her seem less persistent. “I don’t want to leave, not now.” He seems to concede, sighing as he leans in to press a kiss to her cheek. Before he can say anything else, anything that might try to convince her again, she sits up slowly.
“I’m just going to brush my teeth,” She tells him innocently. “Then maybe we can lay down for a few minutes. Then I’m sure I’ll feel better.”
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Post by stiles on Dec 29, 2023 22:44:51 GMT -5
As soon as the words leave his mouth, Stiles realizes his mistake. At least here, she’s a few feet from the bathroom. The last thing she needs is to be trapped in the car for the two and a half hours it’ll take them to get back to Beacon Hills. She’s right that they should just stay put. But it doesn’t stop him from feeling sorry that their here. Away from their bathroom and their bed. If there’s anything worse than being sick, it’s probably being sick away from home. And there’s no easy fix for that.
Stiles raises an eyebrow as she tells him that she feels okay now. But the color has returned to her face. Her hand isn’t shaking as it holds his. She doesn’t seem completely drained like she did after the wolfsbane incident. No, this is more like the few bouts she had had with morning sickness. She would be so nauseous, she couldn’t think of anything else, and then she’d get sick and be fine. He’s not completely convinced that they’re in the clear, but he doesn’t argue with her. Just like he doesn’t argue that her birthday and the money he spent on this trip doesn’t mean they have to stay. But he’s already resigned himself to the fact that this is what’s best for her - for now. “Okay, we’ll stay,” he sighs as he leans down to press a kiss to her cheek.
He’s barely pulled away when she starts to sit down. His stomach turns, thinking that she’s about to race for the bathroom again, but then she tells him she just needs to brush her teeth. He follows her to the bathroom and lingers in the doorway, then follows her back to the bed. At least she doesn’t complain about his surveillance, even if she sends him a look that seems to say See? I can follow the rules when she lays back down. His hand brushes her hair back from her forehead as he watches her one last time, making sure she still seems fine. “I’m just going to clean up,” he tells her with a nod towards the porch. “I’ll be right back.”
His chest feels tight the second he’s outside the tent again. Malia has been fine since the last time she got sick, but Stiles can’t shake that memory of her bringing up only black blood until he was sure she was dying. So he works quickly as he cleans up the remnants of their dinner, his appetite now also gone. He pulls out his phone to text his dad, Everything still good with Ava? The last thing he wants is for the baby to be sick while they’re here (he has a feeling that might be the only thing to make Malia want to leave before morning), but there’s the slightest sense of hope that maybe she is sick and there’s a clear cause to Malia’s illness.
Five minutes later, he’s back inside the tent. She’s curled on her side there on the bed, watching the flap of the tent like she’s been solely focused on his return. “Still okay?” he asks her as he kicks off his shoes before joining her on the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. She wastes no time in curling towards him, bringing her head to rest against his chest. “You know, you could’ve just told me you wanted to go home to Ava,” he teases as he rubs her back gently. “It would’ve been easier than puking. And less miserable.”
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Post by malia on Dec 30, 2023 18:27:38 GMT -5
He’s still there, sitting on the side of the bed, when she comes back from the bathroom. She really does feel mostly better, outside of the pulled muscles in her stomach. She gives him a smile, immediately moving back to the bed. She was going to follow his rules because if she didn’t, she’s afraid that might be all it would take to make him pile everything back into the jeep and drive them right back to Beacon Hills. And as much as she misses Ava, she really wants this night away with him for her birthday.
If only her body hadn’t picked this exactly moment to act kind of human.
She sighs as he brushes her hair behind her ear, and she watches him as he walks back out of the tent where they remnants of their dinner and the mess they’d created making it were waiting for him. She doesn’t like to be inside while he’s outside, and she’d planned on helping him clean up. He had after all gone to all the trouble of making this day special for her. But she knows she’ll get scolded if she tries so she just stays where she is and waits for him to come back. She flips onto her side with a sigh, resting her hand under her cheek as she lets her body sink into the softness of the bed. It really is comfortable. Much more comfortable than the rocky ground which is where they usually sleep while camping, even with a sleeping bag between them and the rocks.
She nods when he asks if she’s still okay, watching him make his way to the bed. She’s relieved when he climbs in beside her and she immediately turns to curl up against his chest as he wraps an arm around her. She rolls her eyes at his words, leaning her head to nip playfully at his chest. She can sense the sarcasm in his tone so she doesn’t try to argue with him. He knew that wasn’t the truth at all.
“Maybe I ate something bad yesterday,” She muses, her hand coming to rest on his belly so she can trace soft lines against his shirt with her finger. She rests her head against his chest, closing her eyes and breathing him in as he pulls her closer. She could stay like this forever. Well, until it was time to go home to their baby that is. And that’s the last thing she remembers thinking before she falls into a deep sleep there in his arms.
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