Visionless Rebirth

Ashes

"Okay, try it again," Hope told Stiles.

He sighed, extending a hand, a moment of concentration and he has a ball of fire in his hand. He tried to do something with it, make it grow and shape it, but all he can do is manifest it.

Hope cautiously waved her hand over it, testing to see if there was heat, but there was none.

"It's definitely not normal fire," Hope said.

"Did holding it in the palm of my hand give that away?" Stiles asked.

"Incendia," Hope said, opening her hand, and a ball of fire filled her hand, but she could definitely feel the heat coming from it,"It doesn't give off any heat or warmth like this does."

Stiles closed his hand, snuffing the flame out, and Hope did the same.

"So I can make glorified flashlights? Nice," Stiles said, rubbing the back of his head, a nervous habit that he had picked up shortly after losing his sight.

Hope looked at him with sympathy.

"I can feel your eyes on me," Stiles said, leaning against the wall of the gym. Everyone else in the school was at some kind of party at the Old Mill, so it was just the two of them,"What's up?"

Hope sighed, leaning against the wall next to Stiles,"I'm sorry we haven't been able to figure this out yet. I know it must be really frustrating."

"Yeah," Stiles said,"I thought my birth parents left me with nothing but my middle name but now I have new powers that I don't understand and they probably had the same powers, but they left anyway."

"What's your middle name?"

"Genim," Stiles said,"I have a really long name."

"Mieczysław Genim Stilinski," Hope said out loud,"You could probably go by MG if you wanted to."

Stiles chuckled,"I don't think the resident MG would approve of that."

A small laugh left Hope's lips, the sound like music to Stiles's ears.

They both fell silent, just enjoying each other's presence, Hope took his hand, entwining their fingers.

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Hope asked.

"What?" Stiles asked, confused,"It's nowhere near Christmas."

Hope turned to look at him incredulously,"Stiles, it's December eighth."

Stiles's jaw dropped,"It is?"

"Haven't you noticed how cold it's gotten?" Hope asked.

Stiles actually didn't, he doesn't feel the cold anymore, maybe one of the advantages of having glorified flashlights in his hands.

"No, I haven't," Stiles admitted,"What're your plans for Christmas?"

"Probably the same they've always been," Hope said,"Stay at the school and have a big family phone call with my family. But you still haven't answered my question."

"I'm jewish," Stiles said.

"Really?" Hope asked, surprised.

"No, I'm just messing with you," Stiles said, smiling.

Hope pinched his arm, laughing.

"I'd probably go back to Beacon Hills for the break," Stiles said,"My Dad and I don't really have any kind of major traditions that we do, but decorating the tree. And with his salary we can't really afford any giant presents. But obviously it might be a little different this year," He said, pointing at his scarred eyes.