Unexpected

FORTY-FOUR

I could feel a sense of dread at the thought that this might be the last time Scott is warm. Stiles too. Deaton sighed. "Okay, the three of you will get in. Each of us will hold you down until you're essentially... Well, dead. But it's not just someone to hold you under. It needs to be someone who can pull you back, someone that has a strong connection to you, a kind of emotional tether. Lydia... You go with Stiles. Victoria, you're with Scott."

I nodded and sighed as I watched all three of them get in the tubs, lowering themselves into the icy water. Scott looked up at me and I gave him a quick kiss before resting my head against his. I looked him in the eyes and but my lip.

"Incase you don't make it back. . . I just want to say—" Scott cut me off with a kiss before pulling away and nodding. "I know. But, tell me when I make it out, okay." On the count of three, we all pushed them under, holding them down until they were dead. 

I blinked my glossy eyes, pushing aside the memory that would forever haunt my nights. My eyes found my way to Stiles, Scott, and Lydia. Scott and Lydia were now awake... or out of my brother's head at least. Suddenly, Stiles was standing from the couch, gagging and gasping for air that didn't fill his lungs. 

As quickly as I possibly could, with a 5-month pregnant belly, I ran to my brother, my hands grasping at his shirt sleeve as he bent over. He was heaving and gagging. "What's going on? What's wrong with him!" 

I frantically looked from Scott to Melissa, both of which looked as worried as I felt. Stiles pulled out of my grip and he began vomiting up cloth. White cloth fell from his body into a pile on the floor. Black goo... no blood spilled at the corners of his mouth. 

Scott pulled me from my spot by the floor as black smoke rose from the cloth and with it a-a person? The person was wrapped in the same cloth that was on the floor-- his hands, his face, his whole body was wrapped like a mummy. 

I felt Scott push me behind him, making it hard for me to keep an eye on my brother, all I could see was this being. "What is it? What's happening?" My hands instinctively wrapped around my stomach, as if my thin arms would protect anything from harming what was inside my body. My babies. 

The leather-coat-wearing-mummy-man began walking toward us, waving his arms frantically, like he was confused, or in a daze? Peter and Scott were quick to push him into the chair, Deaton put Melissa, Lydia, and I behind him. "Hold him!" Peter ordered. 

"I'm trying!" Scott's voice was strained slightly as the mummy-man was struggling beneath him.... suffocating. He was gasping for breath. "Wait! He can't breathe! He can't breathe, Scott!" Peter and Scott lessened their grips and began pulling back the bandages. 

I pushed past Deaton, my eyes on the mummy-man, watching as his face was revealed. "Scott?" It was Stiles? But... how? Before I could further question as to why there were two versions of my brother, I felt a hand grip my wrist and pull me out the front door. 

The hand was pulling so quickly, I didn't bother looking up as who was dragging me, I had to focus on my footing so I didn't tumble down any stairs. I wasn't able to say anything when I was pushed into the backseat of Lydia's car. 

I finally looked up, only to see Lydia in the driver's seat and Stiles-- the Stiles that was paralyzed not 30 minutes ago-- in the passenger side. A cold chill ran up my spine and I knew that this wasn't my brother. "You're the nogitsune." I stated. 

This Stiles was so much different than my brother, it was obvious now that I was really looking. His eyes were rimmed with dark bags that sunk into his skull, and his face was paler that Stiles' usual pale-- which is saying something. I swear, that boy doesn't tan at all. I think it has more to do with his video games than anything though.