Pure × Isaac Lahey

72.

"Oh, I hope he gets there in time," Stiles said with a grin. "I like the twins." His head rolled from the door to Scott. "Short tempers. Homicidal compulsions. They're a lot more fun than you bakemono trying to save the world every day."

"Doc," Melissa began as she stepped up next to Lydia, "you brought something to paralyze his body. You got anything for his mouth?"

"Yes, I do," Deaton replied.

Stiles rolled his eyes as a piece of duct tape was torn just for him, grinning as the vet sealed it over his mouth.

A muffled scream came from behind the tape, falling into eerie laughter.

Everyone was in place.

As time passed slower than ever, a majority of the group gathered in the kitchen while leaving Melissa behind. Scott paced nervously, both Lydia and Deaton leaning on the dining table for absent support.

"How much longer do you think we have?" Scott asked, nerves through the roof.

Deaton shrugged genuinely. "I wish I knew. But if we don't figure out something soon, we're going to need a better place to keep him. I think we're grossly underestimating the danger here. He might be paralyzed, but it still feels like he's got us right in the palm of his hand."

The trio in the kitchen turned to the living room, Stiles staring blankly in their direction as Melissa cleaned his minimal wounds.

Did they know of the chaos unfolding across town?

All over town was more accurate.

As Melissa finished patching Stiles up and stretched a protective gauze across the gash in his stomach, she noticed the tears in Stiles' eyes.

"Stiles," Melissa knowingly said, a sad sniffle emitting from the boy.

He nodded, a tear falling down his cheek. He whimpered softly as Melissa peeled the duct tape from his mouth.

But the expression of anguish soon fell away.

"Really, Melissa?" Stiles asked daringly. "I shed one tear? That's all it takes? Come on. You can't crumble that easily. How are you going to hold up when Scott knows the truth?"

"What?"

"When he finds out why his dad really left?" Stiles taunted. "You know he overheard it, right?" His brows lifted, almost smiling. "You had no idea." He lived for the look on the nurse's face. "You called Stilinski right after it happened. You didn't tell Scott, but you told the Sheriff. Hmm. But Stiles heard it like he hears everything. But you want to know why he never told Scott? Because he knew that Scott would never forgive you. He knew how much he would hate you."

Melissa remained firm, jaw tight. "This isn't you, Stiles."

"It is now, " he countered with a grin.

The nurse ripped a new piece of tape, pressing it harshly over Stiles' mouth.

In the kitchen, minds were still running a mile a minute.

"The scroll said to change his body," Lydia said.

"That's if I translated it correctly," countered Deaton, turned away from the teens.

Lydia shook her head lightly. "Dean said the same thing. It has to be correct."

Deaton turned around. "We're looking for a cure in something that might actually be nothing more than a proverb or metaphor."