A/n: So I've been sucking, sorry. And I know that there are a lot of part 2's needed, and I'll be getting on writing them. For reals. I promise. Tonight, or very soon after. Here's to DiarcticWolf13 for being a super sweet heart and mila271 for searching after that part two that got the whole thing going. I hope I do this as well as you hope :)

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There are some things you never survive. Just as there are many ways someone can die in someone else's mind, and don't just physically pass on, people also survive differently. And sometimes, in some perceptions, they don't survive at all.

I was dead.

But not in the way you think.

Fingers ran across my arm, up, and over to my shoulders. They felt across my chest, through my shirt, but even though the touch was light, I felt it. Heavy and burning.

Lips caressed mine passionately, and I responded, kissing back hard and passionately.

Another hand, different than the finger that still fell down and up and across my body, gripped my waist gently, the touch sending spark of electricity as it slid under my shirt, touching my skin.

My name. I heard it, the voice as soft as the one wandering finger, as gentle as the hand grip, and as passionate kiss.

Getting lost in the touch, kiss, and words of the person you loved was easy. This was easy. Ths was good. I liked it. I didn't mind it.

But the void is what scared me.

Not THE Void. The void. The darkness. The lack of anything else but the pure emptiness around me. But there stood Stiles - or, lay? Hovered? - and his touch was real, his words heard. It wasn't fake. But it wasn't good either. I knew what was going on, somewhere in the back of my mind, but I couldn't control it enough to stop it, even if I wanted.

God knew I didn't want to.

"Stiles," I said firmly.

"Hm?" He mumbled next to me. I opened my eyes, letting myself slip away from thoughts and memories. I turned to my side and looked at him. He was just waking up, his eyes a bit cloudy, but he was aware. He was listening.

"I know this isn't really real," I whispered, as if speaking any louder would ruin the perfect world we were put in.

Stiles looked confused. "I'm real. What we have is real."

"I know," I whispered, my voice breaking. "But this isn't our bodies. This isn't our world. This is... This is our minds."

He looked at me a long time. At first, with his set look, I thought he'd deny it. Fight me on it. But as the seconds passed his face quickly set in a different way. In acceptance.

We knew what Void had done. When Stiles physically stopped him from killing me what seemed an eternity ago, it had thrown Void into a worry like no other. The last thing I remembered was him looking at me like I was his worse nightmare, then he touched my forehead and I was launched into darkness. I woke up in a bed, seeing nothing but Stiles and me and a little pool of light and the bed and then nothing else. It looked sometimes like my bed. Sometimes like his. But there was no room. Just an endless stretching onwards.

The little pool of light didn't even fade, casting some fingers of light into the vast darkness around us. It just cast the little circle, then ended immediately and abruptly. As if there was a wall of glass physically stopping the light from any further crossing into the darkness.

Just enough room to move around and be together, but not enough to really, actually go anywhere in any way.

It didn't take me long to realize what was going on, as memories and images and intake from my body filtered through my mind and hit me randomly. I was stuck in a death like state, Void having shut down my body, transferring my conscience into some kind of prison. Stiles' conscience was there too. I knew he was the real deal. Time and testing and countless intimate nights spent - some just talking, some... more - together. I knew he was real.

Yet I also knew that THIS wasn't real. Void had trapped Stiles and I in whatever we were trapped into keep Stiles under control. To keep him locked down and shut up. I knew because Void told me. On accident, of course, but all the same. Sometimes Void came here too, wiping away Stiles and putting him back in control, just long enough to sneak in some time with me.

See, whatever Stiles and I did, Void could feel it. It was in the mind, what happened between us, but just as your mind communicates to the nerves what is happening to the body during sex - can't beat around the bush forever - this was the same way.

Void felt our actions, but could not have any of his own. So, when all his sexual tension and emotions built up, he came to me. I knew the difference, but I didn't care. I couldn't. When Stiles was in control, he could make a difference. My job was to draw Void in and keep him there. I couldn't entertain Void if I didn't truly enjoy it, so I mentally blurred the line between Stiles and Void, whenever anything happened.

To the others, I was good as dead, though. Stiles couldn't find my body for a long time and when they finally did, Stiles didn't get the chance to explain to them what was going on before Void freaked out and took control again, ruining everything. We both learned to ditch any effort in trying to communicate what was going on with me to the rest of them as any time we tried, Void took control and came to realize what was going on much sooner. But Stiles convinced them to leave me alone. My body didn't waste. Or stink. Or deteriorate. I knew the others were suspicious. They just didn't have time to figure it out.

So Stiles and I were stuck here.

Between what I learned from Stiles and Void and my own body each in turn, we'd both figured all this out, but there wasn't much either of us could do about it.

Stiles seemed to fall in love with me... But he also spent more time than not stuck in a world where only he and I existed. No Lydia. No Malia. Hell, no Derek either, if you want to list everyone who seemed to slip into his line of interest before I did.

It was easy to love the only person you were ever with in any lasting way.

We bided our time, though. Me stuck between loving Stiles and protecting him, and trying to spare myself. For him I dealt wit Void, but by dealing with Void, I destroyed a little bit of my pride and self a little more every time. I was becoming a doll rather than a girl. I felt my mind slipping every day, falling away from me. And this did seem real. This world did seem to be the only one.

Void and Stiles blurred into one person much more easily than when I'd done it the first time. One was just more kinky than the other. Rougher. But it was so simple to forget my real world and melt into this one. Into this little circle of light, this bed, and this boy.

Boys. These boys.

I live in Beacon Hills. I'm a junior in high school. I'm locked in some kind of mental prison, my body seeming dead but not. I was seperated from my pack. From Scott. Allison. Lydia. Malia. Kira. Derek. From my friends. My only family left. I was real, this was not.

My mantra when things started to fade away again.

"Can we just forget it for a while?" Stiles asked gently, taking me out of my stupor.

"I'm fading more and more every time I see him, Stiles. How much longer can we wait before it's pointless? Before we lose? If my mind is gone, if I lose myself, I'll be an empty shell. We don't even know if you can kill Void without permanently trapping me here. We have to get me out. Then we have to kill Void. If we stay in this cycle, I'll lose my mind. If I don't get out, I'll lose myself."

Stiles frowned, flipping over so that he hovered over me, his elbows propping him up on either side of my body. "I won't let that happen." Then he kissed me, gently and briefly, and all my worries seem to slip away. Why not stay here? I was happy here. I was with Stiles here. He loved me like I did him, in this world. What's losing your mind if you get it back and lost your heart?

I shook my head, smiling painfully. "You make me crazier than this place does," I scolded him.

He smiled giddily, as if that made him all warm and happy inside to hear that. I knew the smile because I'd felt it the first time he'd told me he loved me. "You make me crazier," he responded.

Then he kissed me again, for real, and both of us were lost again. My arms wrapped around his neck and my hands went to his hair. He leaned back, lightly pecking little kisses on my neck instead and I giggled. My neck was very sensitive.

Later. I would escape later.

To be continued...?