I have felt a lot of pain in my life. I have hung onto life by a thin thread and known the loss of a mother, sister, and father. I have had my heart nearly ripped from my chest, in the most literal and metaphorical sense. But I believe that the worst pain in the world goes beyond the physical. Even further beyond any emotional pain one can feel. It is the betrayal of a friend, of a lover.
Yes, I know it wasn't really Stiles that hurt me this way, that doesn't mean I don't still feel fooled, humiliated, betrayed. I thought that was him I was sharing the most intimate of moments with. It may have been his body, but it wasn't him. However, it was still his arm forced through my chest.
I know that this isn't his fault. Stiles didn't ask to be possessed by a dark Japanese spirit. I have no one to blame but myself. I should have known better. I should have known that it wasn't actually Stiles. He wouldn't have wanted our first time to be in the school basement without the slightest bit of thought put into it. The way he touched me, a little more daring and not so delicate, that should have been a dead giveaway. I guess I just wanted to believe it was him, for my own sake.
Everyone just keeps giving me this look now, like they feel sorry for me but they're weary that I'm going to go off like a grenade at any given moment. Scott's the only one who knows about the sex -- besides the twins I guess. I haven't told him that it wasn't actually Stiles, but I think he kind of made the connection. It makes it hard for me to look him in the eye.
I think about all of this as I drive Scott and I to the outskirts of town, my foot pressed down too hard on the gas and my knuckles white from their grip around the steering wheel. Scott offered to let me ride with him on his motorcycle, but I was more comfortable in a car. Although, maybe me driving wasn't the best idea at this point.
Scott keeps glancing over at me the entire drive and I try to ignore it but it only makes me think more about what's happened the past couple of days, and that forces tears to burn the back of my eyes. I can't cry though. I have to prove to everyone that I'm okay.
We pull up to the gates under the streetlight. It seems odd to think that only a few days ago we were here under the impression of getting Stiles out, and now we want to check him in. Scott and I are horrendously against the idea, hence why we're here pulled up behind Mr. Stilinski's Toyota.
Scott and I rushed out of the car and over to Stiles and Mr. Stilinski. "Why didn't you tell us?" Scott asked. We had to find out from Melissa that this was even happening. I don't know why Stiles thinks he has to keep so much from me lately.
"Because we wanted to avoid something like this," said Mr. Stilinski.
"It's only 72 hours," said Stiles, glancing between me and Scott. Seventy-two hours was going to feel like a lifetime knowing Stiles was locked up in this place.
"This is the same place where Barrow came from, the guy who had a tumor inside him filled with flies," said Scott. He then turned to Mr. Stilinski. "You don't know everything yet,"
"I know enough," he said. "Nogitsunes, kitsunes, Oni...or whatever they're called,"
"No, that's all surprisingly correct," said Stiles with a shrug.
I don't care about what happened between myself and the Nogitsune, not if it means this. I don't know why they think they need to lock Stiles up in here. If it's because of me then they need to tell me, so I can let them know I'm not worried about what he could do.
"Kids, I saw an MRI that looked exactly like my wife's, and it terrifies me," said Mr. Stilinski. I shifted my gaze to the ground, swallowing the hard lump in my throat. "I'm headed down to LA tomorrow to talk to a specialist."
"Why are you putting him in here?" Scott asked.
"He's not," said Stiles. Both Scott and I's head snapped over to face him. "It's my decision,"
"Stiles, we can't help you if you're in here," I said, my voice pleading and on the verge of breaking.
"And I can't hurt you," he said, looking me directly in the eyes.
My lower lip quivered. "You're not going to hurt me,"
"Maybe not me," he said. "But I don't know what to do about this thing inside of me,"
I felt something hot slide down my cheek and I felt like an idiot for allowing myself to cry. Stiles needs me to be strong right now, to prove to him that I'm not afraid and that I can help him. I may not know how, but I'll find a way.
"Look, Deaton's got some ideas, Argent's calling people," said Scott. "We're gonna find something, and if we can't - "
"If you can't," started Stiles, leaning in towards Scott and I. "If you can't, then you have to do something for me, okay? Make sure I never get out."
I really didn't think it was possible for my heart to become any more twisted and torn up than it already was, but that pushed me over the ledge. This can't be happening. I can't be feeling this way.
Mr. Stilinski gestured for Stiles to go with him, and the two were buzzed in through the front gate. Stiles looked back and Scott and I before the gate swung shut and a barrier of metal and insanity separated us.
I could feel my heart begin to race, a panic spreading throughout my body. The tips of my fingers began to tingle, the same way they always did when it was happening, when my darkness was bleeding through. I was trying to fight it, but I felt like I didn't have anything left to fight it with.
"Emma," said Scott, stepping around to face me. "Emma,"
My breathing was becoming rapid, coming out in sharp rasps through my nostrils and the slim opening of my mouth. I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to find something, anything, to make this go away. I don't want to do this again. I can't do this again.
A pair of strong hands gripped my arms. I let out a grunt of desperation. I don't want this, but it's too powerful for me to fight back without something to give me the light. I've been surrounded by so much darkness lately, and now it's threatening to swallow me whole.
"Is this a panic attack?"
I shook my head, sucking in big breaths in order to find enough air to speak. It physically hurt to fight it away this hard. Usually I just think about Stiles and all the amazing memories we have together, but now all of those are tarnished with that of his body threatening to rip out my heart.
"Is this the other thing that I think it is?"
I nodded, taking a huge breathing before finally speaking. "I don't know what to do anymore," I said, my knees buckling and Scott having to hold me up. "Stiles was my anchor, but now I feel like I don't have Stiles anymore,"
"Emma, I'm going to tell you the same thing my mom told me: Be your own anchor," said Scott keeping his eyes locked with mine. "I know you love Stiles, but I also know that you're strong enough to get yourself through this."
Be your own anchor.
It was a concept I had never even given a second thought to, yet it made complete sense. I shouldn't fight this for anyone. I should fight it for myself. Scott's right, I am strong enough to get through this, and he just helped me find that strength, and it wasn't in anyone but myself.
I held onto my own core. I dug in and found that place where I was a survivor, not only from death but from loss so detrimental it's amazing I'm not more messed up than I already am. That person, that survivor, she can get through this. She's strong enough.
She's my anchor. Me. I'm my own anchor.
My body relaxed, my heart returning to a steady pace and my breathing regulating. I felt it, and there was not a doubt in my mind that I had drawn it back here, but I fought it off. I conquered the darkness and the evil within me all on my own, well, with a little advice from Scott -- from my alpha.
"Thank you," I said to him, my chest still heaving.
He smiled at me, a small one, but a smile none the less. "Come on, we should go talk to Deaton,"
I nodded. "But, Scott,"
"Huh?"
"You're driving."
✞
"Did you have any problems with Ikeda?" Allison's father asked Deaton over the phone.
He and Derek were currently in jail for the suspected murder of some guy who called himself Silverfinger, the guy that Allison and Isaac helped him go to for information on the Oni. Do I believe that they did it? Honestly, I'm not really sure about anything anymore.
"Only minor," said Deaton. "The white wolf was exactly where you said it would be. But, we have two problems now. First, the lichen is not a cure and will wear off in a matter of days."
Deaton had explained to us after he injected Stiles what exactly it was he was using. He called it wolf lichen, a supposed poison for Nogitsunes. Thinking about Stiles as the Nogitsune was making my chest hurt again, so I focused on the conversation between Deaton and Chris.
"But while it does work the Oni won't go after Stiles, right?" Chris asked.
"I hope," he said. "Eichen House has an unusual history. It might not be all that safe for the Oni there as well."
"So what's the second problem?" Chris asked.
"I checked with your contacts in Japan," said Deaton, looking up at Scott, Allison, and me. "The Yakuza boss you saw killed by the Oni never found the scroll,"
"What scroll?" Scott asked, myself wondering the same thing.
"A Shugendō scroll," answered Deaton. "The Shugendō were the aesthetic mystics of Japan,"
I don't know when Beacon Hills became the beacon for ridiculously named Japanese mythology, but I'm really beginning to wish Mom had been more interested in it. That would definitely have helped me to keep up now.
"The scroll had information on how to excise a Nogitsune," added Chris.
"So we need to find that scroll," I said.
If that scroll has answers on how to get this thing out of Stiles then I will do whatever it takes to find it. I promised him I would find a way to help him, and I intend on keeping that promise. I haven't lost him completely, not yet anyways.
"Exactly," said Deaton. "And I did get a name of the man who last purchased it, Kincaid."
"He was with Katashi," said Allison, leaning over so her father would be able to hear her on the other line. "He's the guy who met with Isaac to buy the gun,"
"Sounds like Katashi wanted the scroll for himself," said Deaton.
"Stilinski already told me nothing like it was found upon his things," said Chris. "And a paranoid like Katashi would keep it close, probably on him at all times,"
"What's the Shugendō scroll look like?" Allison asked, furrowing her brow. I knew that look. It was the look she wore when she was on to something, on the verge of figuring something out.
Deaton stood up from his desk and walked back to the small cabinet of drawers against the wall. He pulled open the top one and grabbed something out of it, walking back over to Scott, Allison, and me to show us.
"Something like this," he said.
He handed Allison the scroll, which was a long wooden holder with thick parchment wrapped around it and tied off with twine. It looked like something medieval, something that didn't belong in a world with iPhones and tablets.
"Do these come in different sizes?" Allison asked Deaton, eyeing the scroll carefully.
"Any size," said Deaton, giving Allison a look like he knew she was on to something.
Allison gaze lifted from the scroll in her hand. "Then I think I know where it might be."
✞
Eric's the only person who hasn't looked at me with pity in their eyes. I think that's because he gets it. He knows that I don't need people to feel sorry for me, I've had enough of that throughout my life. What I need is for the people around me to be strong when I find myself in a place of weakness. There's no one stronger than my brother.
I don't think I've ever yearned more for the rest of my family to be here as well. I need them now more than ever. I need Mom's knowledge, Dad's bravery, and Zoe's bold heart. I need them to smack me upside the head and tell me to stop moping around and do something about it.
But, they're not here. They can't help me. The only thing I can do is follow Scott's advice and be my own anchor. I have to help myself. I have to find a way to stop thinking about Stiles being locked up in that nut house and instead find a way to get him out of there, or at least be able to help him when he does get out.
It's just, I know Stiles better than anyone -- aside from maybe Scott -- and I know that he thinks he's doing the right thing. But I also know that even though he's been through hell and back, he's still fragile. I've heard of the things they do in places like Eichen House, and I'm scared to death that Stiles may have to experience them.
Eric told me not to worry, that Stiles wouldn't have checked himself in if he didn't know what exactly he was in for. But, this is the supernatural. You never have any idea what you're in for. That by now is just a given.
"You need to eat something," said Eric, pushing me plate with a roughly made peanut butter and jelly sandwich on it.
"I'm not hungry," I mumbled.
"Emma, you've hardly eaten the past week," he said. "People are going to think I'm abusing you or something. Seriously, just eat it,"
With a sigh I picked up the sandwich, eyeing it carefully. The grape jelly was spilling out the sides and threatening to stain my fingers. This was the only meal Eric ever knew how to make when he would babysit me when we were kids. He always went way too heavy on the jelly.
"Still the only thing you know how to cook?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow.
He gave me a stern look. "Just eat the damn thing, would you?"
"Pushy," I mumbled, taking a bite out of the sandwich none the less.
It wasn't as bad as I'd expected it to be. There was still too much jelly, especially in the middle. I didn't mind though. In an odd way it kind of tasted the way memories feel. It took me back to simpler days when our biggest issue was who's fault it was there was a broken lamp in the living room. Back when there was nothing to worry about but who would be invited to your birthday party.
I licked the excess jelly from my fingers when I finished, surprised at how hungry I actually was. I guess I've just gotten used to the hallow feeling in the pit of my stomach. I lost the ability to tell whether or not it was hunger.
"Now," said Eric, taking my plate and putting it in the sink. I'd probably have to wash it later. "Do me another favor and get some sleep,"
A part of me almost responded with "Yes, Dad," but I held my tongue. I'm not sure how well that would go over with Eric, even if I am joking. At least I have a filter when it comes to things like this, unlike Stiles. But that's one of the things I love about him, his stupidly sarcastic mouth.
So, I didn't say anything as I trudged into my bedroom. I slipped out of the dress I had been wearing all day and tossed it on top of my growing pile of dirty clothes on the floor. It's not like I have all the time in the world to do laundry. I'm hardly even here as it is.
I plopped down on my bed, the one that's painfully too big for just one person. My fingers found the bracelet around my wrist that Stiles had given me. I lifted the heart charm, studying the engravement of our initials. It took me until now to realize that he put the E first. He put me first.
Blinking away the tears in my eyes, I turned off my lamp and laid down. I reached over and my hand landed on something that's always there, something I'm used to. However, it shouldn't be here. It should be somewhere else.
~
"Emma?" Eric said, knocking on my door as he opened it.
I was sitting up, hugging the object to my chest as I had been for the past seven hours. Once the thought entered my mind, I couldn't get it out. I couldn't stop thinking about it, and when that happens sleep goes out the window.
"Have you been up all night?"
"He left his pillow here," I said, hugging it tighter and looking up at my brother. "He can't sleep without his pillow,"
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Thanks so much for reading!
Yay for independent Emma! And sorry it's short, it's just the way I wanted to divide up the episode.
I'm not sure when my next update will be. My softball team has State this weekend so we could potentially be done Saturday if we lose out (but let's hope not!). I'm actually getting through this season faster than I thought I would, so that's a good thing!
This chapter is dedicated to @sarcastic_dallas aka Savanah because her and Danielle (@unfrozen_waters) just make my life better with their tweets and comments :)
Thanks again and don't forget to comment, vote, and follow!
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
-Alyssa