PROLOGUS
The dreams hadn't ended, at least, not the way he had hoped they would.
When the Nogitsune had finally been rid of, Stiles had hoped that things for him might at least grow quiet. Well, as quiet as they could be when your best friend is a werewolf.
The dark dreams were over, that was for sure, and he no longer feared losing control of himself anymore. But that didn't mean he still didn't have nightmares. He could still remember all the things he had done, all the people he had hurt, all the people he had used.
There was when he had attacked Scott, when he had kidnapped Lydia, when Allison…
That was the worst one to think about.
And that was why, at two in the morning, Stiles was sitting up in his bed, drenched in sweat and his breathing growing anxious.
Stiles knew that he had been separate from the Nogitsune when it had happened, knew that he couldn't have stopped it from happening even if he had tried to go back into the past… but that didn't change that he was the one who had caused all of this pain and turmoil.
Allison's father had left town after it had happened. Stiles guessed he was tired of losing family to this town. Isaac left soon after, saying there wasn't even really a place for him anymore. This town had a way of bringing people here only for them to leave mere moments later.
What made things worse was that Scott would try to comfort Stiles. Stiles felt sickened by it, by the fact that it should be the other way around. He should be comforting his best friend over losing his first love, not being comforted for causing her death.
Things only got more complicated now that Malia was around as well.
Malia had been released from Eichen House about a week before, and twice she had wandered over to his house in the middle of the night. He guessed that since he was one of the only people she had really talked to since not being a perma-coyote anymore, excluding her dad and the doctors, he was one of the only crutches she had left to lean on.
And maybe because he had kissed her as well.
But truthfully, he regretted it and would have taken it back if he could have. When he'd done it, he'd been so worried about so any other things that he hadn't thought twice about it. Now he did regret it. There wasn't anything wrong with Malia. If anything, she was one of the prettiest girls Stiles had laid eyes on, let alone kissed.
He hadn't felt anything when he'd kissed her though. Maybe if she hadn't been through so much, if she was in the right state of mind, they could have something less serious. The problem was, she was in so much pain right now, he knew nothing could ever be between them unless he had true feelings for her. And he didn't.
Did he even have true feelings for anyone anymore? He'd liked Lydia so much once, and now, when they were actually really friends, he didn't feel anything except a desire to stay friends.
Maybe that was a consequence of being possessed by the Nogitsune. Maybe he would never again feel anything like "love", just pure lust, pure want.
Stiles would have spent more time sitting there in his bed, wallowing in his own grief, if it hadn't been for the sounds he was hearing outside of his room. The floorboards were creaking, and out of the corner of his eye, he could a small flicker, like something had moved.
"Malia?" Stiles called out with a hoarse tone from exhaustion. She hadn't come back since the last time he could her that she couldn't come here. He was thankful for that at least. He didn't want her to think maybe there was something going on here that wasn't.
Silence. If she were here, she would have come in through his window like she had before. No, it wasn't here. Somebody was in his house. He knew for sure it wasn't his dad. He'd had to go out of town for a few days with Scott's dad – some "case", or whatever. Stiles wasn't a big fan of Scott's dad being back, but Scott seemed like he wanted to attempt to patch things up, so Stiles had to play nice. At least his dad wasn't any happier about the arrangement than he was.
Stiles listened for a moment more, his mind half wondering in a tired daze and half waiting for a sound. He almost went to lie back down and try to sleep again – even though he knew what would happen – when he heard a noise again.
He moved out of his bed quickly, already grabbing the baseball lying on the ground by his bed. It may not be much of a defense against a crazy werewolf or kanima, but it was better than nothing. Stiles was hoping this was nothing. Or at least, only burglars. He could handle them. There were some moves he vaguely remembered being able to do when the Nogitsune had control.
The sounds were faint, but sure enough, they sounded like footsteps. Heavy footsteps, heavy unfamiliar footsteps. Stiles wasn't exactly a professor at how the sounds of his friends and family walking sounded, but he knew for certain whatever he was hearing was a foreign sound.
Stiles was nearing his door, trying to be as quiet as possible. He didn't want whoever it was out there to hear him, and he was really hoping that it was a someone, and not a something.
When the door suddenly burst open and Stiles got to see what was standing there in his doorway, he knew immediately this was a something.
A naked something. As Stiles eyes adjusted, he realized it was a boy about his age, maybe even a little older judging by how in shape he was. Stiles couldn't help but feel a little jealous – until he saw the boy's face. His teeth – what the hell –
He had way more teeth than any normal human should have, and they were each very skinny and sharp looking. And from the glint in the boy's eyes, Stiles knew he wasn't friendly.
"Sorry about this," the boy said, cracking his neck with ease. "But someone is after me, and I need to eat if I'm going to be able to fight back."
"One of my friend's mom's brought cupcakes," Stiles replied, the words practically rushing out of his mouth. "They're to die for."
"I know who your friends are, Stiles," the demon boy replied. Stiles looked over the naked boy, trying to place him, but he didn't look at all familiar. "And I know what you are. I'm just glad your house was close enough. You should be enough to give me the energy I need to fight that… that thing."
"I don't suppose this energy business is something I'm going to like?" Stiles replied briskly, gripping the baseball bat tightly in his hands.
The boy just laughed, as if noticing Stiles' feeble attempt. Stiles couldn't blame him. He knew he didn't look even the slightest threatening here, especially when he was just some human boy against – against whatever the hell this guy was.
"Good thing you're not so bad looking, Stiles. I'm not much into boys myself, but at least you're a pretty boy. You'll taste better than what my parents served up earlier."
And with that, the naked boy launched himself at Stiles, his razor sharp teeth bared. Stiles moved quickly, his body responding before his mind could. That was a perk left over from when the Nogitsune had left him – his reflexes had grown, amongst other little things.
The naked boy crashed to the ground were Stiles had just been, and Stiles moved toward the door without a second glance. He shut the door closed behind him, and then began running through his house toward the front door. He had to get out, to get away. Stiles had tried to square off with a werewolf before many times, and he knew better than to try and fight whatever that guy was.
Stiles could see the door just a couple of feet away, but before he could reach it, he heard a cacophony of noises, and then felt something throwing itself onto him.
"You're not getting away from me, Stilinski!" the naked boy howled, grabbing at Stiles. Stiles, however, moved with as much strength as he could muster. The boy was only partially on top of him, struggling to gain control. Thinking quickly, Stiles brought the handle of the baseball bat as fast and hard as he could upward toward the naked boy, slamming it hard into his chin. Stiles heard a loud crack as it made contact and shattered, wood chips flying everywhere, and the boy fell over to the floor in pain.
If he made it out of this alive and in one piece, Stiles decided he was going to throw himself a party for breaking the jaw of something supernatural.
Using this distraction to his advantage, Stiles moved quickly again to the door, knowing now he needed to put as much distance as he could between this boy and him since he was weaponless.
Stiles was about to open the door when he saw it – or no, not it, someone. It was like something out of a B rated horror movie. He would have thought maybe he had been right to think there was a burglar in his house, that maybe this naked boy had snuck in addition to this man. There was nothing quite that odd about him. He wore a strange track suit of some sort, almost like a black military uniform. He was tall and muscular, big enough to have made those sounds Stiles heard earlier. On one of his arm was some weird sort of wristband that looked like it belonged with Batman, and in his hand was a pickaxe. This man was bald and had pale skin and hard eyes. But that wasn't what scared Stiles. No, compared to what did, this all seemed like it would belong in his house.
The man had no mouth.
Stiles couldn't even try to make sense of what he was seeing anymore. Werewolves was one thing. Hell, even a weird naked boy with scary teeth and vaguely werewolf strength was manageable. A man with no mouth was something much, much bigger and different.
It was insane.
Stiles was so petrified by confusion and shock that he had even noticed that the boy had moved to attack him again. He had just a moment to look before he saw the naked boy on him, bellowing with hunger. And from the way he was staring at Stiles, he clearly hadn't seen the mouthless man in Stiles' hallway.
"Stay still already, you idiot! I can make this quick and painless for you. Just stop fighting back!"
Stiles thought about saying something then, giving one last comeback, something big and good to be remembered by before he died, but he didn't have time to. Before he knew it, the boy was being yanked off of him. Stiles looked in awe as the mouthless man shoved the boy, ignoring Stiles entirely, as if this was why he was here.
It was then Stiles remembered what the boy had said, about someone being after him. Was that why this man was in his house? And if so, why hadn't he attacked this boy first and left Stiles out of all of this? Those footsteps he had first heard had to have been the mouthless man's.
"Get away from me!" the boy shouted, trying to move away from the mouthless man. It wasn't until then that Stiles saw what was really lingering in the boy's eyes. Fear. Stiles might have felt bad if the boy hadn't just been planning on eating him. "You killed my family! You ruined my life! You-!"
Stiles never got to hear what the boy was going to say next. The man moved quickly and gracefully, bringing the pickaxe onto the boy's head like it was nothing, blood splattering the walls and the belongings in the hall. The boy's body still shifted slightly, and the man brought the pickaxe down again, a clear crunch noise echoing through the house as the pickaxe smashed the boy's skull and brains in.
Finally, the boy grew still, and the house was silent. Stiles let out a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding. The mouthless man, as if hearing this, turned away from the boy's body and looked at Stiles. There was a look in his eyes. It seemed… impressed. But why? Was he glad he slaughtered this boy?
"Who are you? What's going on!?" Stiles demanded, shouting at the man.
The man looked at him, and for a fleeting moment, there was pity in his eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it had come. His face was now blank and unreadable. What he did next would always be etched in Stiles' memory. He brought up his free hand and placed his index finger over where his mouth should be. Then, without another sound, the mouthless man moved away from the boy's body and to the door, where Stiles' had been huddling against the wall.
Without so much as another look at Stiles', the man opened the door and left the house, heading off into the night.