It had been four days since the Nogitsune and Stiles had disappeared. There had been small incidents- a molotov cocktail found in the chemistry room, a small skirmish at the police station, a brief, hour-long blackout at the hospital, but no evil spirit or host.
The pack was growing impatient. Derek's loft had become a sort of home base, and he learned not to be surprised when there were five or six teenagers laying across the various mattresses he had bought after the first night, when Isaac and the twins asked to stay there.
It was stressful for all of them, Melissa had noticed, as Scott was often in and out of the house, sleeping only two hours at a time before visiting the loft, the school, the hospital, in order to look for his best friend.
She was worried herself. She knew that when Stiles had come in before he was fully possessed, he was still under some influence of that spirit thing- so some of his symptoms had to be from the Nogitsune, right?
She wasn't so sure. Stiles had never been the most mentally sound, and she was certain that when all of this was over and everything was back to normal, it would never be back to normal. She was scared, scared for him and his mental health.
So when he stumbled into the emergency room at three am at the end of her shift, she was worried.
"Melissa!" He gasped, leaning heavily against the counter. "It's me, it's Stiles, I swear." She took a step back, still behind the brief safety of the counter, wary of the fox that had overtaken him.
"What do you need?" SHe asked, her hand slipping into her pocket as he struggled against the counter.
"I- I need a room farthest from the rest of the hospital, you need to get me somewhere far away and get restraints or whatever you have and keep me there- please, I don't have much time." Stiles begged, and Melissa knew that this had to be Stiles. Why else would the spirit ask to be restrained?
"Follow me, this way." She said quietly, glancing around at everyone else before grabbing his arm, keeping a right grip on the boy. The bags under his eyes were a deep purple, seeming almost fake compared to the rest of his pale skin; he looked like he was dying.
She took him to the intense mental care ward, choosing one of the emptiest hallways and locking the hallway behind her, bringing Stiles into a windowless room with just a bed.
"Lay down, quick." She ordered, letting go of the boy, her fingers leaving red marks on the pale skin of his arm as he sat down on the bed, swinging his legs up.
"I'm so scared," Stiles admitted, watching her as she attached the various harnesses to his arms and legs. "It's all my fault."
She stopped, tightening the last restraint around his ankles, now trusting that this had to be Stiles, as she hadn't been attacked at all. "Listen to me, this is many things, but this will never be your fault. You are being so strong."
"You need to call Scott," He said, staring at the wall across from him. "Him or Derek, I need to tell them the plans before he takes over again."
"I've already texted them honey, them and a few others are probably already here, I need to go let them in because I've got the hallway door locked." Melissa said. "Stiles, you are going to be fine."
She left the room, locking that door as well, seeing Derek, Stiles, Isaac, Lydia, Allison, and Mr. Argent standing at the hallway doors.
Melissa rushed over, opening it quickly and locking it as soon as they were all in.
"He just walked in and asked me for a room farthest away from everyone," Melissa explained to Scott, who was already beginning to ask what happened. "He wanted you guys here so he could tell you the plans."
"What plans?" Derek asked, watching her open the door to the room where Stiles apparently was. They tumbled in, all of them staring at the pale, dying boy in front of them, who was staring blankly at the ceiling.
"There's something on top of the hospital," Stiles began. "It's in the electrical shed, there's a bunch of tools on top of the shed and it has my scent all over them. There's going to be an attack on the police station, they have poison, Derek you have make sure there's no one there." His voice was desperate, and he looked like he was on the verge of another panic attack, but Derek wasn't sure if it was him entirely.
"How do we know you're not lying?" Mr. Argent asked, voicing everyone's thoughts out loud. Stiles looked to the man, his eyes welling with tears.
"Because you need to." Stiles said, looking down. "Because people are going to die because of me."
"It's not your fault." Derek told Stiles, stepping towards the bed. "This isn't your fault, and you aren't going to hurt anyone. We'll have your dad shut down the police station and have someone go upstairs and look for whatever's on the roof. I trust you, Stiles, but you have to stay here."
"I can't," Stiles said, his voice trembling almost as much as his balled up fists. "I'm gonna be at the school in one hour, you have to be there."
"We'll be there." Scott spoke up, holding onto the end of Stiles' bed tightly. "We're going to save you, Stiles."
Stiles opened his mouth to speak again, but closed his eyes painfully, his chest pushing up against the chains as he gasped, his eyes opening a shade darker than what they were before he closed them.
Stiles was void again.
"That little bastard." Stiles said, talking about himself. "I lose focus for one godamn second, and he gets out."
"We're going to beat you." Scott told the Nogitsune, who laughed, surveying the various leather straps that Melissa had put him in a half hour before.
"As if," It spat. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to go attend to some business." It looked at the straps at its wrist, pulling his wrists towards him, and, in a snap, the restraints on his arms were broken and torn away from his arms.
"Let him leave." Scott ordered. "We need to get the rest of the pack." It scoffed, rubbing its wrists, slightly red, contrasting the yellow-pale skin of Stiles' skin.
"As if they're going to help," It said. "Your efforts, although valiant, are useless. I am going to win Beacon Hills and I am going to become stronger than ever."
"Stiles is going to beat you," Allison spoke up, her tone defiant. "He was able to get here without you, so he can defeat you."
It let out a short laugh. "That was a short... lapse in judgement, you could call it." It spoke. "Now, I'll see you all soon." It ripped off the rest of the restraints, walking past the crew and out the door.
"That went well," Isaac said, speaking up for the first time. Derek rolled his eyes, turning to Scott's mother.
"Can you call the sheriff and have him evacuate the police station?" He asked. "And have him send some officers to whatever's on the roof."
"What are we going to do?" Lydia asked. Scott looked at her, then looked back to Derek.
"We're going to get ready to fight." Scott said, a grim look on his face.
YOU ARE READING
He thought the door to his mind was closed. Really, he did. But, it seems, after a car crash and a mysterious reappearance, Stiles isn't all Stiles. (COMPLETED)