Chapter 8
There was something tickling his nose.
Stiles pried his eyes open and blinked blearily up at the ceiling. He shut his eyes because the light was way too bright and felt like someone was stabbing knives in his eyes.
Something was beeping and whooshing near his head and he tried to peer through his lashes to see what was making the noise but even through his lashes the light was too bright. He shut his eyes again with a small huff. Which reminded him of the weird tickling sensation. He groaned softly and tried to raise a hand to brush away whatever was tickling his nose, only to feel a sharp tug in the back of his hand.
“Whoa, no you need to leave that alone.” Someone said, grabbing his hand and pressing it back down onto the stiff plasticy feeling sheets and startling him into opening his eyes again. The light was still too bright and his eyes watered but after a minute of stabbing pain he was finally able to focus on his surroundings.
It looked like a hospital room. Bright white and clean with various equipment surrounding the bed.
Stiles stared at the heart monitor, watching the lines rise and fall as he tried to figure out what had happened to land him in the hospital.
He could tell that he was on some good pain meds based on how heavy his limbs felt and the way everything seemed like it was wrapped in a layer of fog and then wrapped tightly in cotton and his thoughts were really difficult to keep in a straight line.
Which was pretty normal considering his ADD but it seemed to be even worse with the meds the were giving him. He wiggled his fingers and then his toes wondering how much damage Peter had caused this time, because if the werewolf had actually had to take him to a hospital it had to have been pretty serious.
The slight shifting caused pain to flare sharply in his side making him gasp and then pant shallowly for breath. He tried to search his memories, tried to remember what Peter had done to cause this much pain but he couldn't remember. Honestly the last thing he remembered clearly was breaking away from Peter in public.
Stiles was quite proud of that. He had gathered some black pepper in a small baggie and kept it in his jacket pocket, waiting for the right opportunity to use it and when the opportunity had finally risen, he had shoved the small amount of the spice up Peter's nose, kicked him as hard as he could and than ran away, screaming for help.
Stiles couldn't help but groan softly when he realized that whatever had happened after that, it had landed him in the hospital.
Speaking of, (or maybe thinking of?) he wondered where Peter was. Ever since the werewolf had kidnapped him, he'd been practically glued to Stiles side, especially in public, so that Stiles couldn't ask someone for help or inform anyone that he'd been kidnapped.
He stared at a corner of the room, not understanding why Peter wasn't standing there lurking.
“Hi. Um, I didn't think you'd be waking up for another hour at least.” Someone commented and Stiles abruptly remembered that he wasn't alone. His gaze slowly shifted to where the voice was coming from.
At his bedside a young woman, who looked Asian American, with short black hair was sitting in what looked like a uncomfortable chair and smiling gently at him.
She didn't look like a nurse, he thought, at least she wasn't wearing scrubs and she didn't have a stethoscope either. Also she didn't give off the same sort of air that Melissa did, the I'm-a-medical-professinal-shut-up-and-let-me-help-you sort of vibe.
“I'm Skye, you're safe now, okay? Um, do you, do you need some water?” Stiles nodded, now that she had brought his attention to it his mouth was super dry and swallowing felt like he had shards of glass stuck in his throat.
Skye got up and filled a glass with water, added a straw and carried it back over.
“Okay, here you go. Small sips, alright? Now, even after you drink this you shouldn't talk, okay? You had to have a tube down your throat to help you breathe for a couple days.” Stiles eyes widened at the confirmation that his injuries were rather serious. Skye pressed the straw against his lips and Stiles took a tiny sip and winced at the pain the lanced through his throat that was triggered by him swallowing.
“How's your pain levels? One is ow like a stubbed toe and five is kill me now and end my suffering, show me with this hand.” Skye said tapping the back of his hand that was closest to her. Stiles showed her a two, he hurt a bit even with the pain medicine but it didn't really seem important compared to the weight of his eyelids and the exhaustion that was trying to smother him like a heavy blanket.
“Go ahead and sleep some more if you need it. Someone will be here when you wake up, and we'll answer any questions that have then okay? But for now, just get some more sleep.” Skye murmured gently when she saw Stiles struggling to keep his eyes open.
Stiles nodded and let sleep pull him back under.
* * * * * *
The next time he woke up there was a dark haired nurse fiddling with his I.V.
“Hey kiddo.” She said, smiling gently.
“Melissa?” He rasped and then started coughing, his throat burned and the coughing made him want to scream it hurt his chest so much.
“Oh no, hey calm down. Shh, here we go, I need you to breathe.” He felt an oxygen mask being pressed over his face and his bed tilted upright some more. He took a gulp of air and sobbed when his chest flared brighter with pain.
“Try to take smaller breaths, you're doing fine.” A hand rubbed at his arm gently as he got his breathing under control. He glanced up and almost sobbed again when he realized that it wasn't Melissa who was standing over him and trying to comfort him.
“Good job. I can give you a little bit of water if you promise to take small sips.” The nurse offered, not noticing or pretending not to notice the tears in his eyes. He nodded and when the oxygen mask was lifted and a straw pressed against his lips it took all of his willpower not to gulp the water down. The water was quite possibly the best thing that Stiles had ever tasted and helped to soothe the burning in his throat and the cottony taste in his mouth. His throat still hurt after the nurse took the water away, but a little bit less which he was grateful for.
“You go ahead and go back to sleep, I just gave you another dose of morphine so that should be kicking in any second now. It's late and you need to rest so you can recover faster.” She patted the back of his hand gently, slipped a nasal cannula into place and then went and dimmed the lights.
Not that Stiles saw because he was already asleep.
* * * * * *
When he opened his eyes for the third time, his head feeling a lot clearer, and saw Skye sitting beside him again he smiled weakly up at her.
“Hey, how you doing?” Stiles lifted his hand off the bed and wobbled it back and forth. Then remembering the previous scale she'd had him use raised up three fingers.
“Yeah, you're still on some pretty impressive pain killers but they're trying to wean you down a bit but if you fall back asleep I won't be upset. Do you think that you can try to answer some questions for me? Uhm, talking might still be an issue. I know my throat hurt for quite a while after I had tube in it and it's only been a day since yours has been out. So you can either just mouth the word or hold up one finger for yes and two for no. Sound good?”
Stiles held up one finger, grateful that he didn't have to talk. His throat still hurt and taking a deep breath made his chest go from slightly achy to blinding pain, he didn't want to imagine what trying to talk would feel like with that.
“Okay, I don't know if you remember or not, but my name's Skye. You're currently in our med bay. Oh-would you like some water?” She asked, jumping to her feet and filling up a small cup of water. She helped Stiles drink it and then turned back to him.
“You were attacked by an inhuman named Peter. He called you Stiles, is that your name?” Stiles held up one finger and then held up two.
“Does that mean kinda?” Skye asked and Stiles held up one finger in reply. “Okay, so Stiles is a nickname? What's your real name?” Stiles just blinked at her and raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, that was dumb of me. I'll get a pen and paper later so that you can write it down for me. Peter says that you ran away from home and that he volunteered a ride for you and from you're angry expression I can already tell that was a lie.”
“Yeah.” Stiles mouthed, trying to soften his glare.
“How did you end being with him? Sorry, let me try that again. Did you go with him of your own volition?” Two fingers.
“Did he kidnap you?” One finger.
“Okay, he keeps saying that he doesn't remember anything. Uhm..have you seen him when he...shifts?” One finger.
“Okay, does he retain memories from when he was shifted?” One finger and Stiles nodded so hard he dislodged his oxygen, Skye quickly fixed it back into place for him and then asked. “Do you have any family that we can contact? We kept asking Peter, but he was adamant that you wouldn't want to call anyone. He kept saying you wouldn't want to put anyone in danger.”
Stiles clenched his hands into loose fists while he thought that over. Was Peter trying to remind him of all of the threats he'd made towards his father? Stiles shuddered when he remembered Peter telling him that he'd rip his father limb from limb if Stiles ever even thought about trying to call his dad for help again when he'd found Stiles with a cell phone.
The phone hadn't even worked, Stiles recalled bitterly.
“If you're worried that you might hurt your family with your powers or something, you don't need to. We're going to help you learn how to control them.” Skye tried to reassure him, seeing him hesitate.
Stiles froze, her calming words having the exact opposite effect, he felt like an icy pit had opened up inside his stomach and his heart started pounding. Peter had said he'd find someone who would control his powers, someone to “fix” him. When Peter had said it like that, a snarl curling his lip it had sounded like a threat. He glanced up at Skye and wondered how Peter had found her.
Her asking how to contact his father must have been some sort of ruse to get him in trouble with Peter. Especially because she'd followed it up by saying that Peter was adamant that he wouldn't want to contact anyone so they wouldn't be in danger.
“Stiles, is there any family we can contact?” Skye asked, wondering if the teen had forgotten the question. Stiles raised two shaking fingers up and shook his head slowly, fighting back tears.
He had thought that the nightmare was finally over. He'd thought that he was finally going to be getting away from Peter when he woke up and the werewolf was nowhere in sight. But now he realized that Peter wasn't in sight because he'd left him here with people who wanted to “help” him learn control. He shuddered at the thought and glanced at Skye out of the corner of his eye, he wondered what she was going to do to “help” him.
Was it going to be like at Eichen house? Or was it going to be something more along the lines of what Peter had been doing for the last two months, beatings every time that he made the slightest slip?
He took a deep breath, wincing slightly at the pain it caused. He didn't know what she had planned but he wasn't going to just sit back and let it happen.
The moment that he was physically capable, he thought fighting off a yawn, he was going to get out of here.
“Alright, you go ahead and get some more rest. We'll talk more later.” Skye said rising to her feet so that she could go and report what she'd learned to Coulson.
She was completely unaware of the escape plans that Stiles was formulating in his head as she left.