Chapter Text
Oh god, he was in his room alright, but it was all wrong, blown apart. It was insane. “God help me if my dad woke up from that.”
He was sitting in his bed. “Well that wouldn’t be fun. That would be horrible.”
“Stiles, Stiles?”
Hiss and a pop, a completed spell. But what had just happened?
“Stiles, are you in there?”
“MEROW!”
“Is that a cat? Stiles?”
“MEROW!” which of course meant that Stiles was awake, and if there was a cat, he’d be just as surprised as his father.
Stiles looked around the room, quickly. He hadn’t even bothered to move yet. He was a bit disoriented. Yeah, he was in his bed, but he was at the foot of it. And there was a lot of stuff that looked out of place, but that was because he was upside down. And now that he was orientated, he could see that everything was exactly how it should be. But why did it all look… different?
“Damn it. Of course the one morning he actually is home this week I already have pancakes made. Should have tried to wake him up first. And of course he has a cat, why wouldn’t he have a cat? He’s only going off to college. Who is going to take care of a cat then?”
He heard it all, like his dad was still there, still outside his door. But then he heard the car start, drive away. And yet, he was still listening to his dad. His dad who had made pancakes. Mmm pancakes.
Stiles tried to get out of bed. He really did. The room had oriented right side up. But maybe not. He felt his bed on his back. Hmmm. Neck.
He rolled his neck, his world shifting back to the upside down mess it was before. And he tried to push back with his shoulders, but he couldn’t. There was nothing to push back with, nothing. “I’m just drunk. I think. Just need to stop thinking about it.”
And then he was upright, on top of his bed. All for feet touching the sheets.
Four feet.
There was something not quite right about that. “Why do I have four feet?”
Then Stiles heard it, the mewing of a talking cat. He looked around, left, then right. Then he saw it. It was a furry orange thing, not much bigger than a kitten. And it was apparently close by. Instantly it hissed at him. It was trying to make itself bigger than he was. It seemed to say “Back off man, I’m going to rip your face off.”
But then Stiles was airborne, hitting his mirror with a bit of force, pushing his claws, and yes he had felt them, four claws on each foot, four feet on his body. He was scared. “Ok, so that’s my mirror, and that means… what?”
There was that mewing sound, like a cat deep in conversation. Stiles looked up at the mirror again. “Shit, I’m a cat!”
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