This was a prompt from my dear friend, ShadowsTakeAll. Go check her out :)
::
Deaton had warned you that there would be darkness left inside you after the sacrifice.
He was right.
::
It starts with Allison.
At first, she's fine.
At first, you're all fine.
But then she's screaming her dead aunt's name and no matter how tight you press her against your chest, she still screams and claws at your arms and begs you to make it stop. And her eyes are wild and you don't think she even realizes it's you, but you hold her anyways, even as she rakes her nails across your face. It stings, but the expression of absolute fear on her face hurts you more than any injury ever could.
After what seems like forever, her body stills and she stops fighting. You stroke her hair and tell her it's okay and that it's over and you're all alive and safe and it's okay, Allison.
She shakes her head weakly, all of her energy gone. "No, it's not. You feel it too. I know you do. We died and came back and we brought something with us."
::
And then the hallucinations start. There's a buzzing in your ears and it just won't go away, no matter how loud you have the radio on. You see red eyes where brown should be and claws where nails belong and you feel like you can't trust yourself anymore.
You haven't felt so lost in your own skin since your first full moon.
It's not a feeling you like.
::
Stiles clutches your arm and you turn, the 'are you okay' dying on your lips when you see his face. He's paler than he should be and the circles under his eyes are practically black, so you grab his wrist and tug him into the locker room. He collapses onto the bench and you push grip his face in your hands.
"Stiles. Look at me. What's wrong? Come on, bro. It's just me."
He shakes against you and he stops breathing and it's one of the scariest moments of your life and Stiles, breathe! Please, you have to breathe!
"I don't know if I'm awake, Scott. I can't tell what's real and what's a nightmare anymore." His voice is so small and so scared that it makes you want to wrap him up and protect him from everything supernatural. You want to go back to freshman year before you got bit and before everything got so utterly wrong.
"You're awake. You're okay and I'm right here. Count with me."
And he does. You hold up your thumb and he holds up his.
"One."
Index finger.
"Two."
Middle finger.
"Three.
Ring finger.
"Four."
Pinky.
"Five."
And again with the other hand.
"Ten."
His forehead falls against your shoulder and you reach down to lay your palm against the back of his neck. His breaths are still labored, but they're there and you can hear his heartbeat start to even out. You make sure to inhale and exhale rhythmically and soon enough, he starts breathing along with you. You brush your lips against his hair and hold him against you until he falls asleep. And even then, you don't let go. It's as much for your benefit as it for his because if you let go, you won't be able to feel his pulse against your fingers and you're not sure you can handle that right now.
::
You don't realize how truly screwed up you all are until Allison walks into your room with a deadly look in her eyes and blood on her hands. Before you can start panicking, she shakes her head. "It's not mine."
The buzzing gets louder and you stifle a groan, rubbing at your temples.
"Allison, whose blood is it?"
She reaches out a hand. "Come on, I'll show you."
You link your fingers with her and the red stains your skin, but for some reason, you don't mind. She leads you down the stairs and to her car and you sit in the passenger seat as she drives, your eyes locked on the bloody hand-prints on the steering wheel.
The school is empty when you get there and you're surprised when she parks by the pool. She gets out and holds out her hand again and you take it. Her grip gets tighter the closer you get to the water and then you smell the blood. She stops and points forward. "It's his."
There's a body lying face down in the pool and the water around him is red and oh god.
"Allison, what did you do?"
"I got rid of the problem, just like they told me to," she tells you with a sinister smile that turns your veins to ice.
You look back to the body and freeze because you recognize that scarf. "Isaac?" It comes out in a horrified whisper and then you're diving into the pool, grabbing his shirt and turning him over, needing to make sure you're wrong.
But you're not.
And you've never hated being right as much as you do right now.
::
She's sitting on your bed, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a coldness in her eyes that scares you.
"You killed Isaac."
"I did what they told me to do."
You kneel in front of her and touch her shoulder. "Who told you to?"
"The voices. Don't you hear them too?"
The darkness around your heart gets a little bit bigger and the buzzing in your head gets a little louder until you're flinching and burying your head in Allison's lap and covering your ears.
"See. Don't worry. They'll go away when it's your turn."
She runs her blood-soaked fingers through your hair and you let her.
::
Lydia comes up to you in the hallway with wide eyes and a concerned frown. "What's going on with you? And Stiles and Allison? You're all acting weird. Are you okay?"
She reaches out a hand and you shove her away, not caring that she slams into the lockers because you just want her to stop talking. And then you're running. Out of the hallway and away from prying eyes and whispered conversations.
Your head is killing you and the buzzing just won't go away and you need it all to stop.
Stiles finds you in the woods and hooks an arm around your back and tells you that it's all going to be okay.
::
The next time you see Lydia, her eyes are still wide, but she's got bruises on her neck and she'll never talk again.
Stiles nods at you as he's dragging her body towards the creek and rinses his hands off when he's done. "See? I told you it was going to be okay."
And the scary part is, you believe him.
::
She's pressed against your chest, her lips on yours, when she pulls back enough to whisper something. You can feel the vibrations of her words against your mouth and it sends a thrill through your body, even as the buzzing gets louder.
"It's your turn next, Scott."
The way she says it makes your heart turn to ice and the darkness surrounding you seems to grow just a little bit darker. Allison is dragging her nails lightly along your back and it makes you shiver in all the right ways.
"I know."
She grins and you can't help but smile back at her.
(even when you can still smell death and darkness and Isaac on her)
::
Stiles is already sprawled across your sheets when you get home. His eyes are closed, but you can tell from his breathing and his heartbeat that he's not asleep, so you plop down next to him and wait.
A few seconds later he leans over to press his face against your shirt and you can hear his long exhale, even as the buzzing intensifies.
"Are you nervous?"
"For what?"
"Your turn."
The noise is your ears gets even louder, but you grin and wrap an arm around your best friend.
"No. It's the only way to survive."
Stiles chuckles and it's even darker than Allison's smile. "I know, Scotty. I know."
::
Deaton is working on a poodle with a broken leg when you walk into the office. He looks up with a small smile and says that he'll just be a minute. True to his word, he's washing his hands and leaning against the counter across from you less than sixty seconds later, asking you how you are.
You shrug and if it wasn't for the constant ringing, you'd be perfectly content. "I'm fine. Well, as fine as someone who died can be, I guess."
"I heard that Lydia and Isaac are missing," he says next, watching you carefully for a reaction. But you've learned a thing or two from Stiles and you just shrug again.
"I'm sure they'll turn up eventually. Isaac probably left. He's done it before."
"And Lydia?" He's still got that calculating expression on and it makes your skin crawl.
You step forward, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe she got tired of being good all the time. Maybe she gave into the darkness and ran with it."
And you can see him finally catching on, finally understanding what you're trying to tell him. He reaches behind him and he's fast, but not fast enough because your hands are already at his throat.
"It's funny, isn't it? You said our emotional tethers were supposed to keep us tied to who we really are. But they did the opposite. You did the opposite."
"This isn't you, Scott," he chokes out and there's no fear in his eyes.
You smile. "Oh, but it is. Sorry, doc. Tell Lydia I say hi."
And then you dig your claws into his neck. There's blood on your hands and on your shirt and on your face, but it doesn't make you flinch. No, it makes you smile.
You let go and the emissary drops to the floor, eyes still open.
And the buzzing stops.
::