Title: Madness Is A Mercy

Universe: Teen Wolf

Pairing: None, Gen

Warnings: None.

He kept appearing.

In the darkened corner of the room, in the reflection of the mirror, on the other side of a cracked door. He kept coming when Stiles least expected it. Was at his most vulnerable and susceptible to whatever madness would come out of the strangers mouth. The few, rare times that he was at the end of his rope on what to do. How to help his friends, how lie to his father, how to battle creatures great and small (and all with the power to kill him in seconds.) How to survive one more day of the nightmare his life had become in the last few months.

It was when Stiles was at his worst and alone in his empty house that in the corner of his eye he would catch the flash of a fanged smile. A maniacal grin so wide and crazed it spanned from ear to ear. His teeth were dirty, fangs dyed a rust color and patches of blood flecked what little could have been left white.

The being was mangy and smelled of dampness and something close to death. It was a black, sickly smell that made Stiles stomach roll uneasily at each breath.

But when he talked, he spoke clearly. His voice solid even if the rest of him was mostly incorporeal. Nothing truly appearing before Stiles but that gross smirk, smell of sickness, and words so inane and brilliant it might be the only thing holding the teen together at this point.

So when his mostly invisible companion joined him this night, Stiles didn't even flinch as his stomach rejected the odor. He allowed the beings whispery presence to slide over him, rubbing against his taunt back like a cat begging attention. Coming to settle on his shoulders.

Only the creature had no reason to beg, Stiles had learned early on to take head when that smile arrived. That lesson had been drilled into his head the first time it had spoken.

"The uninformed must improve their deficit or die."

Harsh, solid, and senseless but completely understandable. Stiles would either learn quickly or die trying. And the quickest way to learn when he had hit the edge? When every area of research was exhausted and no one could help him anymore?

The quickest answers spilled from grinning lips.

Because the stranger always knew what to say to connect the shredded information he had gathered. But the answers weren't clear when he was thinking straight. Only when he was close to the edge of madness could the beings words make sense. He spoke solid and whole but to the perfectly sane it was all just idle babel.

Their is no genius without a touch of madness after all. So it stood to reason that the madder one become, the better.

So Stiles stopped what he was doing, closed his eyes to block the reflection of fangs in the glow of his laptop screen, and greeted the being that hopefully had come to help him and not just felt the urge to prattle his insanities to a willing ear.

"Mange." was his curt welcome. The creature had never given him a name but he had taken to calling the thing 'Mange' in his head. He had entertained the notion of calling the being Cheshire, but the parallels to Alice in Wonderland's cat and his own evaporating guest were to similar to feel comfortable with.

"Lost again it seems. Do you ever tire of meandering circles? It seems dreadfully boring."

Stiles hummed absently, leaning back in his chair and feeling Mange come to rest more upon him. Ghostly pressure and foul stench a welcome reprieve from staring aimlessly at the Google logo. His stomach gurgled unhappily but he had experience battling the nausea down now.

"I'm in a constant state of lost you could say." he agreed with little hesitance.

"No surprise, everyone is. Lost is much easier to be then found. After all, found is what got your little puppies into this mess isn't it." Mange chattered through his clicking fangs, Stiles nodded despite their being no need. It was Scott and Isaac's fault they had been discovered by the group of Hunters. Then they had lost the trail which ended with the group getting the jump on Scott after work. Now the unknown number of people were holed up around town, attacking swiftly only to fade away before Derek and the other betas could exact retribution. It had been going on for almost two weeks now.

Stiles was at his breaking point.

"Well how do we become lost again? Or make the Hunters UN-find us?" He asked, sounding just as unbalanced as his grinning incorporeal companion.

"They have struck the first blow and anonymity will not save you now." he was rebuked swiftly, "Harsh words or actions do not go unpunished, act rashly. They deserve to be left broken in the filth."

Stiles' eyes flew open, hit with clarity. Of course, filth! "They are using the sewers to move unseen, it's so disgustingly obvious." he gasped out with a crazed glee, his own mouth forming a near mirror of the skull splitting smile on Mange's face. "How did I miss that possibility, it's so unoriginal I could cry."

"Your tears are better shed on their husks, but remember. Though they may all be dolts they are dangerous. Stupidity is it's own special brand of insanity." Mange rumbled a noise so close to a purr it was eerie. "Destroy that which threatens you Stiles, Raise havoc and let slip your Dogs of War."

Just as quick as he'd come, Mange was gone. Taking his grin and deathly odor with him. Leaving Stiles alone once more.

He snatched his cell phone up, nearly pulling the charger out of the wall in his haste. He hit Derek's number and after the second ring when then Alpha answered he didn't even wait to be acknowledged.

"I know where the Hunters are." He cackled, brown eyes blown wide and reflecting the white light of his laptop. Face grinning a mirror of Mange's blood-crusted smile. Stomach rolling nauseously for food now that the noxious smell of sickness was gone.

Madness might be a bitter mercy, but it was a mercy he had come to view fondly.