Second chapter
Sitting in the back of the car, Thomas silently looked at the outside from behind the window made of cold glass. He felt a lot better, having washed his face and cleaned a bit. He felt more human.
He didn't know if he should trust Scott and Stiles, but he knew he was obligated to as he was stuck with them. Scott seemed to be a genuinly kind person and he reminded him of Chuck. Obviously Chuch wasn't 17, and he was chubby and fragile, Scott had appearent muscles under his clothes and he had those weird claws replacing his nails sometimes. Thomas understood that Scott was a kind but powerful person. Better to be on his side.
Stiles was physically the same as Thomas. His voice, his features, everything. But his personnality? His leg bounced all the time, he couldn't stay still and he always seemed to think he had to replace silence by excessive talking. But the smile on his lips didn't reach his eyes. Thomas knew he was trying to hid something just like he knew Newt refused to talk about how he got his limp.
Scott sometimes peeked at him to make sure he wasn't going to do anything stupid like opening the door and jumping outside, but no, the boy seemed to be buried deep in his thoughts. No expression appeared on his tanned face, nothing that could prove what he was thinking about; and Stiles drove.
"We're almost at Derek's loft." the hyperactive said.
He had left a message for his dad when he'd come back, saying that he was out for the night. He didn't really explain the situation, mostly because he knew the Sheriff would be too worried if he did. But he knew his dad was going to call him when he'll realize his son wasn't home.
"How are you going to find my way back if I don't know how the hell I got here in the first place?" Thomas asked, breaking the ice.
"I called a man." Scott explained. "He's my boss, he's a veterinary – well actually, he's more of our druid. Huh..."
"Scott." Stiles warned as he knew his friend sometimes lost himself in his explanations.
"He's an expert in that kind of stuff" Scott continued and he gave Thomas a reassuring smile. "Trust me."
"That's what Stiles said when he called you and you don't have a clue about what happened to me."
"Yeah, well..."
Thomas straightened on the backseat, his gaze directly focused on Scott's on the mirror.
"I don't know what you are, but I don't think you're completely human, right?" he said.
Scott awkwardly shifted his position and Stiles grimaced.
"I saw your nails... or claws." Thomas continued, merciless.
"Yeah, about that-" Stiles began.
"I'm a werewolf." Scott snapped.
"Oh god." the hyperactive murmured.
"If we're going to find help from Deaton, the best is to warn Thomas!"
"I always wonder how you keep your ass out of trouble."
"The thing is, I kind of trust Thomas. He has your smell, plus dirt and wild."
"Am I the only one who feels left alone?" Thomas said.
"Sorry. But you really smell good."
Thomas didn't know what to do with that information so he shrugged.
"If that keeps me away from being eaten by your kind, then thanks, I guess."
Stiles parked the car in front of Derek's loft and looked at the rearview mirror where Thomas' face appeared.
"You're okay with werewolves?" he asked, really surprised.
"I've seen a lot of klunk last week." Thomas replied, sibylline.
Scott and Stiles eyed each other, eyebrows raised high, and the human got out of the car.
Scott and his muscular figure led the way and Stiles stayed stuck to Thomas. They were exactly the same height and they walked the same way. Scott found that very disturbing.
The Alpha stopped in front of the huge sliding door.
"I think it would be better for you to stay here." he said to Thomas. "We've fought a... another person who looked like Stiles, just like you look like him, and we've kept bad memories from that."
"Fine." Thomas replied.
"I'll stay too." Stiles snapped. "He's in my care."
Thomas stared at him, surprised. "I'm in your care?"
"Yeah. I mean, you knocked at my door, right?"
"But you told me to go away and threatened me with a bat."
"I did, and then I understood that you weren't what I thought you were, and we started to talk like completely normal teenage boys who just found out they had an exact twin."
"So... that's why I'm in your care?"
"Basically yeah. Actually I don't want to see my ganger having his throat ripped out by my friends."
"What does that have to do with you staying here? Scott can handle the situation, he's a big guy!"
"Yeah, well... I don't know, I feel like staying here, y'know?"
"You're gonna have to explain that story about the other you, because I really don't get it."
"Maybe when you'll tell me your backstory, buddy."
"Then we have come to an agreement, shank."
Stiles laughed.
"Shank? What the hell is that?"
"It's just a nickname." Thomas answered with a smile that disappeared within seconds. "Forget it."
Stiles quickly noticed it was really hard to force a smile out of him.
"Okay, Stiles and not-Stiles, you stay here." Scott interrupted but he was smiling from their exchange.
He slided the door, went inside and ran it back.
Stiles sighed and slowly sat down, his back against the door. Thomas mimicked him.
Silence fell between them.
The hallway to the loft was very dark and a single light bulb enlightened it. Shadows circled the two teenagers.
"So..." Stiles murmured as he counted his fingers, something that was now a mannerism to didn't actually know where to start and the more he thought that he talked to someone who had the exact same look and voice as him, the more it felt weird, but he couldn't just stay silent. "That's really disturbing."
"Don't even talk about it." Thomas replied.
"I mean, I feel like I'm talking to myself!"
"Yeah. At least my name isn't Stiles."
"What, you got a thing against my name?" Stiles said, falsely offended.
"I've seen worse." Thomas slowly murmured.
"Did you?"
"Yeah. I'm practically the only one of my friends who has a normal name."
"So you really have friends. I thought you were like an asocial. None of your friends have a phone number?"
"They don't have phones."
"Are you kidding? Everyone has phones. It's the frickin' twenty-first century! Where the hell are you from, Tatooine?"
The door opened before Thomas could answer and they both nearly fell on each other with surprise.
"You okay?" Scott asked, eyeing the two.
"Yeah, no problem." Stiles said as he got up, wincing and rubbing his back. "They're ready?"
"I think they're fine. I'll keep an eye on Isaac just in case."
The two similar boys entered the loft.
Derek was already on his feet, and Stiles noticed his look when his eyes fell on Thomas. It was a killer look. He always had that killer look on his face but that one was his real killer look and Stiles silently prayed for him to stay calm.
Peter was here too, comfortably displayed on the couch, and he seemed pretty interested. Isaac was leaning against the beam in front of the couch, his eternal blue scarf around his neck. He had that killer look too. Stiles knew why.
Because of Allison.
"Guys, this is Thomas." Stiles introduced as he patted his twin's shoulder. "He's a nice guy."
"Hey..." Thomas said.
"It's good." Derek suddenly said, intensely observing Thomas' figure. "He doesn't smell like the nogitsune."
"Yeah, that's because he's not." Stiles sarcastically interrupted. "He's human – well, I guess. That's what he says."
"He could be lying." Isaac groaned, and Scott could swear he saw the blond's nails turn into claws. "He could be fooling us like he's used to. He could be tricking us again!"
"I'm not... tricking you." Thomas replied, his voice steady. "I swear."
"I propose we chain him to a chair or maybe drown him to get some info." Isaac continued, and this time, Scott clearly saw his eyes turn yellow. He prepared himself to jump. "Like why he killed ALLISON!"
"Now that gets interesting..." Peter murmured.
"No one is going to chain or drown anyone, okay?!" Scott exclaimed, his alpha voice expanding into the loft. "Stiles and I, we're 100% sure Thomas isn't the Nogitsune."
"Are you sure, Stiles?" Derek asked, arms crossed.
Stiles took a breath. "Yeah. At the beginning I really thought he was, but-"
"Stiles had a panic attack." Thomas completed. "So I filled a glass with water and threw it on his face."
"The glass?" Isaac said without thinking twice.
"Yeah, the glass, that's why I've got the face covered in bruises – what do you think, dumbass?" Stiles shouted, full of sarcasm, as he pulled on his shirt still a bit wet.
"He's not the Nogitsune." Scott harshly ended.
Thomas chose this moment to clear his throat. "I don't really know who you guys are."
Stiles grabbed his twin's arm and made the presentations, pointing with the finger every person he talked about.
"The big, stuck-up and sour guy is Derek Hale." he said as Derek gave him the 'I'll rip your throat out... with my teeth' look. "He's a werewolf like Scott, and an Alpha. But I'm sure he's got a heart as sweet as a gummy bear once you get to know him. But I do know him and I still haven't seen that side of him."
"That's Peter Hale, Derek's uncle. He was an Alpha once but Derek killed him, then he was back from the dead – long story, involving a destroyed party, brain-washing and a traumatized banshee – and he's completely useless now."
Peter sighed dramatically and shrugged.
"And the scarfy seventeen-years-old guy here is Isaac Lahey. He's a werewolf too, everyone here is a werewolf but me, but he's a Beta. Yellow eyes, not red. He's a bit creepy and a lot claustrophobic but he likes dogs. And we have to support him, we don't really have many choices but to coexist, so..."
"Stiles." Derek warned as Isaac gave the finger to the hyperactive. "Shut up."
"I know, you love me."
"Where's Deaton?" Scott suddenly asked. "He said he'd be here."
"And I am, Scott." the vet said as he descended the spiral staircase.
"And HE!" Stiles exclaimed, now pointing at the black man. "He's Deaton. He's a druid vet. He's the boss when it's about supernatural stuff when supernatural people can't explain what that supernatural stuff is about."
"Hello Thomas." Deaton said, smiling at the boy. "I heard you have a problem. That's not every day we stumble upon a second Stiles."
Thomas opened his mouth to start talking, maybe ask a question or a hundred, but Deaton put a hand on the couch Peter was on and offered him a seat.
Peter sighed.
"If I am bothering you, you just have to tell me." he said as he got up from the couch. "I'll just be somewhere where people can't double themselves."
And on that, he reached the door, gave them a last sarcastic glance and walked away.
Thomas sat where Deaton offered him a seat, and Stiles sat next to him. Derek stayed in the same position as he was before and only his frowning deepened, Scott put his butt on one of the two chairs and Deaton settled down in front of Thomas in the other chair, while Isaac snarked.
"We could do a firecamp." he said, acerbic. "I can bring the guitar."
"Thomas." Deaton began, his eyes locked on the boy's. "I need to understand your problem, and for that, I need you to tell me everything that has happened to you before you got here."
"Then it's gonna be a long talk." Thomas said.
"And we are ready to hear it."
Thomas looked around him, saw all the faces focused on him, and he ran a hand through his messy black hair.
"Okay."