Re: Quicklog: Scott/Stiles/Bobby
Stiles’ scream was abruptly shut down as the snap of ice and teeth interrupted the sound. Despite the pain of the fox’s ghostly teeth in his spirit, Stiles felt the newly physical pain of the bite as it interrupted his senses with a wash of purely human shock, pain and fear. It was the response of prey to predator, the purely human reaction of surprise. Voice hoarse and eyes impossibly bloodshot, Stiles’s voice seemed small and sudden when he exclaimed in surprise. Newly aware of his surroundings, Stiles' eyes came open and he saw the red glare of Scott’s irises at the extreme edge of his vision, and his sound was of betrayal and confusion. “Did you just bite me?!”
He didn’t have time to follow up the accusation. He closed his eyes again, and Stiles and the fox launched into a struggle for control of his body. One of them had to die in the wake of the wolf, and the fox wouldn’t go quiet into that endless night.
Stiles and the fox fought. Sometimes his face was Stiles, visibly obvious because his features contorted and he called the fox “a stupid rat” three or four times; and sometimes it was the black, soulless picture of the fox, expressionless except for the ruthless curve of his mouth. But Stiles had a new strength, and the coming wolf wasn’t going to let him go yet. That struggle was still coming. For now, the wolf was an ally. Stiles’ bizarre appearances became more frequent, and the pieces of ice snapping off the confines of his body bounced and slide off the floor in wet chips.
Stiles stumbled to his knees, and with a last, growling effort that was as herculean as it was inaudible, the fox lost that battle. He’d underestimated the boy from the beginning, and Stiles had enough of a spirit, enough of a will to live, and the purely contrary pissed-off-ness to take himself back from the murdering bitch.
The black shadow of the fox, an exact double of Stiles painted in the air as with an inked brush on rice paper, separated from the boy’s body. It gave a vulpine scream, a dog’s howl, and crumbled. Stiles collapsed, arm bleeding, exhaustion taking over, but breathing.