fandomweekly | [#037] Tell Yourself that You Still Live Here (Teen Wolf)

Theme Prompt: #037 - Reunion
Title: Tell Yourself You Still Live Here
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 999
Summary: Malia returns home from being stuck as a coyote and finds the world doesn’t fit like it once did.

The house feels more like a shrine than it does a home.

Malia understands the ritual, even if she doesn’t understand the practice. She took her sister’s things back to that same spot every time they went missing, so in some ways, it makes sense that the house manages to remain exactly as she remembered it. Her father hoped to maintain some order after losing so much. His wife and, he thought, both of his daughters had died in a horrific wreck – that he can’t control. His house is something he can.

It doesn’t feel that way, however. So much time has passed in between the accident and now that Malia doesn’t feel like the person who belongs in this house, in this room. She eyes the pictures and fixtures like they are reminders of expectations and what she won’t be able to meet. Rising to the occasion isn’t something Malia can work with here. She doesn’t know enough to put it into eloquent words, but she understands that, somewhere inside her.

The police are gone now, off to do whatever it is they do in Beacon Hills, and Henry stares at her like he’s expecting something. An explanation, another emotional hug – whatever it is, she can’t put a name to it, so for the moment, she’s not bothering to try. It's already too much as it is.

“Can I get you anything? Something to eat?”

She doesn’t remember what human food is like anymore, so despite her stomach rumbling, she’s not sure what to request. Instead, she shrugs.

“Honestly … I probably don’t have a lot.” Henry’s hand awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “But I could order out. You still like pizza?”

The question is met with silence because while she remembers pizza, for the moment, it doesn’t seem very appetizing.

“How about burgers then?”

Burgers at least gets a look of interest, because meat’s involved. Henry takes that as encouraging as he reaches for his phone and car keys.

“Okay. Let’s go get some burgers.”

Malia blinks in surprise, as he walks to the door. He glances back to her when she doesn’t follow, and then outside. She tries to figure out if she can find the words to explain, but she doesn’t need them.

“Too many people, right?”

She swallows, then nods, appreciating that she doesn’t have to explain herself. Using words is still so new, she isn’t sure if she could. The silence seems comfortable and relaxed, for now, at least until Henry continues to move through the door, and she lets out a small sound of protest at the idea of being left alone.

“Dad!”

He snaps back around to her just as suddenly as she shouts, holding up a hand. “It’s okay. It’s okay; I’m not going anywhere. There’s a pair of deputies in front of the house – I’m going to see if they can make a food run for us. You can watch me from the window.”

Her shoulders relax, and she nods, still staying where she is, frozen in the middle of the room. She waits until the screen door closes, and she makes her way to the window, staring out into the darkness as he leans over to talk to the deputy. The immediate suspicions start to leak in – does he know the truth? Is he telling the deputies to take her away because he doesn’t want a daughter this broken? All thoughts she never had while trapped as a coyote, because coyotes only care about surviving. They don’t have time for frivolous, complicated feelings.

Still, Henry comes back to the house, and the deputies drive off to points unknown. He closes the screen door behind him and looks back at her, where she’s kneeling on the couch, in clothes that don’t feel like hers, in a home that doesn’t feel like hers. She watches as Henry takes a breath, before moving to sit in the spot next to where she’s kneeling. He doesn’t reach out to touch her, but he does lean back enough to be in her line of vision.

“Look, Malia. I know that this is a lot. The accident separated us for a long time, and it’s normal for things to be different, even if we don’t want them to be.”

She takes that acknowledgment for what it is, and she turns to sit next to him, tucking one leg under herself. The gesture feels comfortable, even if it isn’t how she’s been usually sitting as a coyote.

“I thought you were dead. And while part of me is ready to lean into this never-let-you-out-of-my-sight feeling for as long as possible, I know it’s not going to last forever. I also know that I kept a lot of things the same, and that may be jarring. But we can change things now together. But you have to talk to me about what you’re feeling.”

Malia swallows hard, leaning back into the couch a little more. “I need new clothes. My old ones won’t fit.”

A smile curls, and he nods. “I figured that much.”

“The bed is too soft.”

“Firmer mattress. Got it.”

“Would it bad if I just wanted to … start over? Get rid of all of it?”

“Malia, sweetheart, you can have whatever you want. It’s your room. You have to tell me what you want, okay?” He then turns to look at the rest of the house with a nod. “I think everything around here could probably use a do-over. But we can figure it out together.”

She swallows hard again and nods. She’s about to say something else when a sharp knock comes on the door. Malia tenses and he reaches out one hand to rest on her arm gently, before getting up and opening the door to the wafting scent of cooked meat. Her mouth waters, and once the door closes, it takes everything she has not to pounce on the bag.

“But first,” he grins, “We feast.”