Dreams

The gentle rays of the sun peeked through the curtains, dimly lighting the room. Finn and Malia lay entwined in each other's embrace, sleeping peacefully. It had been so long since either of them had felt this kind of calm—a sleep untroubled by worry, fear, or pain.

For a moment, the stillness seemed infinite. But then Finn stirred, his eyes slowly fluttering open. The first thing he saw was Malia, her face relaxed, completely at peace. He couldn't help but smile, though a small pang of guilt followed. She deserved this serenity. After everything she'd been through, everything they'd both been through, moments like this felt rare and fragile.

He turned his head toward the window. The faint streaks of dawn confirmed what he suspected—it was morning. He shifted slightly, careful not to disturb her, but Malia's grip on him tightened. Finn froze, debating whether to stay or make his escape. A thought crossed his mind—what if he stayed here, just for a little while longer?

No, he told himself, shaking the temptation away. He had an idea. Leaning forward, he gently blew on her nose. Malia's face scrunched up, and she let out a tiny, sleepy groan. Then, just as he'd hoped, she released her hold to rub at the tickle.

Seizing his chance, Finn slipped out of her grasp and out of the bed. Quietly, he stood at her bedside, watching her for a moment longer. Her hair was a mess, but in that mess, she looked content, her soft breaths filling the room. Finn smiled again, shook his head, and turned toward the door.

Downstairs, the smell of coffee drifted through the air. His mom was in the kitchen, frying something on the stove. Finn made his way to the table, more drawn by the promise of breakfast than conversation.

"Morning," she said without turning around. "How'd you sleep?"

"Okay," Finn replied, sliding into his seat. "How about you?"

His mom glanced at him with a knowing smile. "Really?"

Finn frowned slightly, grabbing a piece of toast. "Yeah. Why?"

She set a plate of eggs on the table and raised an eyebrow. "I mean, I'd assume sleeping next to a girl makes it a little harder to sleep."

Finn nearly choked on his toast, his eyes wide with horror. "Mom!"

His mother burst into laughter, clearly delighted by his reaction. "Relax," she said. "It's nothing I haven't seen… or done."

Finn groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Seriously?"

She smirked, sitting down across from him with a mug of coffee in hand. "I hope you two used protection."

Finn dropped his toast. "No, no, no. We haven't done anything like that!"

His mom gave him a skeptical look, her eyes narrowing. "Uh-huh."

"I swear!" he insisted. "We just slept!"

The way she tilted her head told him she didn't entirely believe him, but her teasing softened. "Well," she said after a moment, "if that's the case, is there… something wrong? You know you can talk to me."

Finn sighed, slumping back in his chair. "It's not like that, Mom. It's just—" He hesitated, trying to put his thoughts into words.

She waited patiently, sipping her coffee.

"I don't know," Finn finally said. "Sometimes it feels like I'm taking advantage of her." He glanced down at the table, avoiding his mom's eyes. "I mean, she was a coyote for most of her life. I'm the only person she's really connected with, but I wonder… if she were normal—if she didn't have all that baggage—would she even feel the same way about me?"

His mom leaned forward, placing a hand over his. "We can't know that, Finn. None of us can. But what you can do is look inside yourself and figure out how you feel about her. If you care about her, really care about her, then that's what matters. Start there. The rest will come naturally."

Finn looked up at her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Thanks, Mom."

She smiled back, glancing at the clock. "And there goes my breakfast," she said with a sigh, grabbing her bag and filling her coffee mug to-go. She kissed his forehead before rushing out the door, pausing just long enough to grin over her shoulder and say, "Thanks for not doing anything."

Finn groaned again as the door shut behind her. He finished his toast in peace before heading back upstairs to wake Malia.

"Malia," he called softly, shaking her shoulder.

She groaned, burying her face deeper into the pillow. "No."

"Come on," Finn urged. "We've got school."

She whined, pulling the blanket over her head. "Let's skip it. Just stay here with me."

For a moment, Finn considered it. But then he flicked her lightly on the forehead, earning a glare. "Nope. Get up. We'll be late."

Grumbling, Malia sat up, her hair a wild mess. Finn chuckled. "Change your clothes," he said. "We'll have breakfast and go."

Finn parked his car in the school lot, cutting the engine just as Stiles threw himself onto the hood. The impact made Finn wince, and he groaned, "What the hell are you doing?"

Stiles slid dramatically off the car, brushing himself off. "You didn't pick up my call last night!"

Finn and Malia got out, slinging their bags over their shoulders. "I was busy," Finn said flatly.

Stiles shot them a grin. "Oh yeah? Busy?"

Finn's unamused glare wiped the grin right off his face. Stiles hurried to catch up with them as they walked toward the school. "It was important!"

"What, you lost your gear or something?" Finn muttered. "Or is Scott having girl problems again?"

Stiles shook his head aggressively, "No… wait, if we lose our gear, are you supposed to help?"

Finn stopped to look at him and Stiles gathered his thoughts, his voice dropping. "Something happened. Something big."

Finn slowed his pace, glancing at him. "What are you talking about?"

Stiles hesitated, his usual theatrics replaced by genuine unease. "Scott was attacked. At his house."

Both Finn and Malia stopped, their expressions skeptical. "And?" Finn asked, folding his arms.

"It wasn't hunters," Stiles said. "It wasn't the Argents. It was… something else."

Malia narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean, 'something else'?"

Stiles looked at them both, frustration clear on his face. "That's the problem—he didn't see it. It was fast, strong, and it just… vanished."

Malia grabbed Stiles by the front of his shirt, shoving him back against the lockers. "You better not be suggestion that it was us?"

"Malia," Finn said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She hesitated but eventually let Stiles go, stepping back with a huff.

Stiles adjusted his shirt, glaring at her. "I'm not dragging you into anything. I'm telling you because whatever this thing is, it's strong. Stronger than anything we've dealt with before."

Finn frowned, his gaze narrowing. "Scott's not exactly weak."

"Exactly," Stiles said, his voice low. "Which is why this is bad."

The three of them stood there for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. Finn glanced at Malia, who looked just as unsettled as he felt, though she was doing a better job of hiding it.

Finally, Finn sighed. "Fine. We'll talk to Scott later. But if this turns out to be another one of his messes, I'm out."

Stiles nodded, looking relieved. "Fair enough."

As the warning bell rang, they all headed toward their first class. But Finn couldn't shake the nagging feeling that things were about to get a lot more complicated.