He could still remember that day as if it was just yesterday, from the beautiful weather to all the blooming flowers. It’s funny how everything can be fine one moment then in the next it can seem so dull and lifeless. The day still clouded his mind.
Stiles feet stopped swinging back and forth to dangling in the air as his mom violently sobbed on the floor next to him. It took everything in him to stay strong even though his bottom lip started trembling betraying his efforts.
He just silently stared at the man wearing a white jacket in front of him. Stiles sat wondering if this was some sick twisted joke or if fate really was this cruel. Wondering when had the room enclosed all around them.
Part of him wanted to turn to his mother and ask what was going on, but the other part of him knew that if he opened his mouth, he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Stiles throat became dry as he felt an increasing pressure building slowly spread up his body.
“M-Mommy?” He choked out after gathering up some courage. The doctor looked at him apologetically over the rim of his glasses.
His mother glanced at him looking so broken. She slowly reached down and gently placed her hand on his check, wiping away the tears.
When did he start crying?
“It’s going to be okay.” She sounded so lost and tired. Stiles knew better than to think that everything was okay. Even his young mind could tell that this was something deadly.
His mom got up and placed her arms around his shaking body, mumbling soothing words. That was it. He let it all out. His mom held me close but Stiles held her closer. Her whole front shirt turned wet from all the tears.
That was when Stiles became more observant and saw how his mother’s body started changing seeming more sluggish and tired.
“Dude you can’t miss taco night, my mom would freak if you aren’t there.”Scott flung his arms out.
Stiles looked at him. The date was quickly approaching of when his mom died and he didn’t think he could take seeing Scott and his mom together.
Something always broke in his heart when he saw a mother and child together around this time of the year.
He looked at Scott, “I can’t man,” he turned away, “ever since my dad found out about werewolves I promised him we would spend one day of the week together.” Scott didn’t have to know that the day wasn’t going to be today.
“Alright I’ll save you some tacos.” Scott looked at him with big doe eyes and clasped him on the shoulder like he was making a heartfelt promise.
Stiles almost felt bad about lying but once he grabbed the liquor bottles he hid, all traces of guilt left. He wrapped the bottles up and placed them in his backpack then left the house.
He knew he shouldn’t do it but he didn’t care as he arrived at the empty field and cracked open the first bottle.
After placing the last stone in a circle Stiles stumbled to stand outside of it. Looking down at his work of art he frowned. Was it supposed to move?
Only then did he realize that the whole forest was swaying, looking relieved he let out a giggle and held his arms out in front of him.
He cupped some mountain ash in his hands and the sensation prickled his fingers. He walked around the circle sprinkling the mountain ash as he went. At this point the other bottle of Jack lay completely forgotten on the ground next to his jacket.
The ground shook beneath him making him want to vomit, so that’s exactly what he did.
Once he was finish emptying his stomach he looked back at the circle and said an enchantment. His words slurred in a mix of Polish and English. After he was finished he opened his eyes, not remembering when he closed them.
Sighing he kicked the dirt and turned around swaying. He would have a long talk with Deaton about misgivings found on the internet on spells tomorrow. For now he took off his left shoe and made airplane noises waving it back and forth in the air.
“Why have you summoned me?” A cold voice questioned. Stiles paused making one last swoop before letting his shoe fall on the ground. He was sure there was no-one there before. He was not aware of hallucinations being a side-effect of drinking.
That same voice made him freeze in terror, “Why. Have. You. Summoned. Me. Human.” The last word was spat out in disgust.