useofcuriosity | PSL Box

Stiles is in no way letting go of her unless he absolutely has to, and he's going to make damn sure he doesn't have to. The screams from the others on the plane have sort of changed to crying and panic. He's doing his best not to panic as well, but he won't lie. He's kind of dizzy from being knocked about.

One thing is certain, they can't stay here. "Lydia. It's okay. Talk to me?" 'It's okay' he's sure is absolutely a lie.

"I'm going to fall, I'm going to fall..." she's panicked, there's no lie. "The seatbelt, it's making my legs go numb and putting pressure on my spine but if I get lose I'm going to fall...Stiles are you okay?"

"It's okay. I'm okay. You're okay. We're okay." Is that true? He honestly has no idea. "I'm not going to let you fall, not...not unless we need to. Can you move your other arm?"

She nods, lifting the hand that doesn't have fingers curled into his. "I'm going to lose feeling in my legs." she tells him. "I might - I might have to fall..." The free hand reaches for him, tries to grip his other arm.

"I know. I know. I'm gonna help you, okay? Just...listen to me, do what I tell you, and you'll be okay." He'll let her grip for a moment, thinking. "Okay. Take your free hand, and I want you to shield your head. When you're ready, I'm going to let go of your hand, okay?" Talking quickly, so she can still hear what he's saying, but not protest or panic. "Do the same with that arm. Then I'm going to get your belt undone, and you're going to tuck and fall. Okay?"

The minute he says 'I'm going to let go of your hand' she can't help it, she lets out a whimper of fear, her face crumpling into a terrified visage as tears well in her eyes. Even finding herself naked in the woods wasn't anything like this, and though she knows Stiles is helping her, she's having a hard time not gripping him harder.

But she nods at his instructions, trying to keep her eyes on his face. It might be the last thing she ever sees.

"Okay. We're gonna count to ten, then we'll go." Ten will give her time to breathe, to prepare. Ten like counting fingers. But this is no nightmare.

He can hear other people trying to calm each other down, and he's pretty sure someone's made it out of the plane with the emergency gear. So hopefully this won't be an entirely awful thing.

Hopefully. "One. Two."

She's shaking from shock and fear. The free hand, trembling, reaches up to touch his face. She keeps her eyes on him. "Three. Four."

And he keeps his eyes on her. "Five. Six..."

She brings the hand back, tucking it behind her head. The fingers laced into his slowly begin to tug away, and she keeps her eyes on his face. "Seven....eight...it's okay, it's okay..."

"You're going to be okay. I promise, you're going to be okay." He lets go of her hand, making sure she's got both hands tucked before he even begins the last numbers. "Nine. Ten."

She counts with him, and then she's braced, waiting for him to reach for her seatbelt. Her feet are starting to go numb so she knows this is something he has to do, but that doesn't make her any less terrified.

He's careful as he undoes her belt, as careful as he can be anyway. If he could carry her to the ground, he would, but he doesn't exactly have any leverage himself. So he has to make due with undoing her seatbelt, and watching as she falls. Hoping she doesn't get more hurt.

She can't help it. When he unbuckles the seatbelt and she starts to fall, she lets out a short, quick scream as she slides away from him, and falls to the opposite side of the plane that's resting against the ground. There's a cry of pain, and then, weakly,

"I'm okay..."

He really, really hopes so. "Can you move? Don't try to get up yet, but can you move your legs or are they still numb?"

It takes a moment. "I can move. I probably sprained my ankle, but I'm okay."

Another moment. "Are you going to come down?"

Relief because the idea that she's mostly okay is well...a relief. He takes one breath, then another. Then another. "Yeah. Just...give me a minute." Another breath, then he'll do the same thing he had her do. It's a little more difficult without someone else to undo his seabelt.

"I'm here." Well, really she just wants to pass out from pain, but Stiles is up there and the drop flooded her body with adrenaline. It's making her feel vaguely sick. "I'll count with you, if you want."

"Yeah. Okay. Let's...do that." Closing his eyes, one hand on the belt release and the other arm ready to tuck and fall. "One, two..."

"Three." There's a phantom of pain in her voice. For all that it's a minor injury, sprains hurt like a bitch. "Four."

He can't imagine he's not going to sprain something, getting down from here. "Five. Six."

She listens carefully, takes note of her surroundings. There's no real way to make the fall easier for him. But they're both alive and together and that counts for something.

"Seven, eight."

"Nine. Ten." Belt unbuckled, and quickly down he goes. It's a little awkward, and he's pretty sure he'd done something painful and jolty to his arm. But they're both down and alive.

Within a second or two after he hits the ground, Lydia is there, wincing through her own pain to look him over, and once she's satisfied he's still breathing, she's unable to resist pressing her head to his shoulder and hugging him ridiculously hard.

Hell, he hugs her just as hard and just as close. "Someone needs to call for help." He's hoping they've already done that, honestly.

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omg plurk come baaack

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