Thanks for reading past Chapter 1! This is only my second story on this site, both for Teen Wolf. Hope you enjoy! My other story was mostly done when I released the first chapter but this one I'm writing as I go and uploading as soon as I have a chapter finished so it may not be released as frequently. Hope you guys like enough to stick around, some old characters will be showing up soon. Stay tuned! -Mel

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Scott was speeding. Stiles hadn't specified exactly how far from the school he'd been, but he knew the way Stiles went home. It was only a matter of time before he picked up his scent. "Stiles, can you hear me? Answer me, Stiles!" But there was nothing, silence filled the line. "Damn it." He said, and sped up. It was nearly 2 in the morning and there were no cars on the road. All Scott could think of was how badly Stiles was in trouble for him to call. There weren't many times where Stiles had called for help, so when he did, Scott was automatically on high alert. Normally when they got into trouble it was together, and Stiles was the person who got them out of it. Scott knew if he was in trouble he could get himself out of it, so if he called there was something seriously wrong. Despite being human, Scott considered him the strongest of the pack, the most essential. When the pack had split up, it was the tear between Stiles and him that had been the starting point. And it was Stiles who he had to first get back on his side before he could start mending fences with the rest of the pack.

Scott rounded a corner and saw a flash of bright blue. He pulled on the brakes as he took in the scene. Stiles' jeep was turned completely upside down in the middle of the two lanes, glass shattered all over the road. On the drivers' side where the window was broken, there was cut up and bloody arm hanging limply over the doorframe. Scott hopped off his bike "Stiles!" he said, running up to the jeep. He got down, glass cutting into his palms as he looked into the jeep. Stiles was unconscious, arms bleeding from the glass, but it was something bigger that caught Scott's eye. Stiles' face had streaks of blood dripping down his face forming a puddle under his head. His eyes were slightly open and his face was so pale, Scott's heart nearly stopped. "Stiles no-" he said, tuning into his wolf senses. He closed his eyes and searched desperately. It didn't take long for him to hear the one thing he was looking for. Stiles heartbeat was slow, too slow, but it was there. Thank God. Scott whipped off his helmet and reached for his phone, still tucked inside. He knew if he called the police his dad would find out, but it didn't matter. Stiles needed a hospital. Scott called 911, and gave them the details of their location. He feared moving Stiles in case there was anything internally broken, but instead reached for his shoulder and began absorbing some of his pain. Scott got a jolt when he realized there wasn't much to take any more. He flashed back to Allison, dying in his arms. "I can't take your pain." He'd said to her in shock. "That's because it doesn't hurt." She'd responded. New fear ran through his heart. Stiles was more injured than it appeared, but he couldn't tell from where. He didn't know how to fix it.

A siren's wail began getting closer and Scott stood up and began waving them down. As the ambulance pulled to a stop Scott was already running towards the first paramedic to lead him over to Stiles. "Over here! His pulse is weak, and he's bleeding a lot." Scott said, showing the paramedic where to bring the stretcher. "I think he has a gash on his head. There's a lot of blood, it's all over his face." He said, before standing to the side and watching as firefighters and police arrived. The first officer on scene was the Sheriff himself, who jumped out of his car, leaving the door open, and ran for the jeep. "Stiles!" Scott ran up to him, stopping him from getting to close. He didn't need to see his son like that. "Scott I know you're much stronger than me, but if you don't get the hell out of my way I will use force against you. I know you heal quickly. Now get out of my way."

"Sheriff Stilinski, I can hear his heartbeat from here. He's going to be fine, the paramedics are here, they won't let anything happen to him. I won't let anything happen to him."

The Sheriff calmed down a fraction of an inch and grabbed Scott by the shoulder. "I appreciate the words, but it's a bit too late for that. Now move aside Scott." This time Scott backed down, and the Sheriff ran towards his son. The paramedics had finally removed him from the jeep and were wheeling him to the ambulance. "Stiles! Stiles, can you hear me?" The sheriff said, but Stile remained unconscious.

The paramedics were radioing into the hospital. "En route, the patient is a kid, 17-20 years old, multiple contusions and lacerations to the head and arms. Patient in need of CT Scan of the head and chest upon arrival. Get one of the rooms prepped and ready." One of them said as they wheeled him into the ambulance. While one went to the front to drive, the other stopped speaking into the radio and turned to them. "One of you can ride with the patient up front, but you need to choose now."

Sheriff Stilinski looked back at his empty police cruiser and shook his head. "No that's ok, but I'll be right behind the ambulance, can't leave the Sheriff's car for someone to steal. Scott?"

"I'll follow behind you on my bike Sheriff." The Sheriff nodded, tears in his eyes, which he quickly turned away to hide. He jogged over to his car and started it up as the ambulance closed the doors and drove off. Scott mounted his bike and took off after them.

They arrived at the hospital and began their long wait. While they waited, an officer that had followed from the scene of the crash came up to Scott to get a statement. Soon after he left, a nurse came up to them to give them an update. "Family of M- Miecz-"

"Stiles. We call him Stiles. I'm his father, what's going on?"

"Stiles. Thank God." The nurse whispered to herself, writing 'Stiles' down on her paper. "The X-rays showed he has multiple ribs broken as well as a dislocated shoulder, so they did a CT scan to get a better view. It showed moderate to severe internal bleeding, so he needs to go into emergency surgery to fix the problem. If he doesn't get into surgery immediately- We need you to sign a consent form." The sheriff signed the form and handed back to her quickly. "I'll be back with an update as soon as I find out more." She said, and hurried away. Scott sat down, head between his hands, and the Sheriff sat down next to him.

"He's going to be okay Scott." Scott laughed with no amusement behind it.

"I should be saying that to you." The sheriff smiled.

"He's where he needs to be, getting help. This was not some supernatural beating he endured, it was an accident; the way I see it, if he can deal with all of that on a daily basis, this won't be the thing that kills him." Sheriff Stilinski said, but his eyes betrayed his fear for his son. "By the way Scott, I never got to say thank you. For picking up his call, for racing over, and for calling 911. If you hadn't done that as fast as you did, he'd be in worse shape than he is now."

Scott nodded, and they sat in silence, waiting for more word.

…

Stiles woke up with a groan, turning over to his side and sitting up on the bed, eyes closed. "Ugh jeez that hurts." He said, clinging to his side. He stood up, amazed that he was able to. He remembered the crash, the pain, and considering the amount of pain he had been in, this was nothing. Almost like an echo of what he felt before. There was a beeping sound next to him and he looked up to see a heart monitor next to him, monitoring his vitals. But it was weird, there didn't seem to be anything attached to him. The room was loud, louder than he thought it would be. There were too many people in here, but surprisingly, no one was coming up to him now that he was awake. He stood up and turned towards the voices, and froze. He wasn't in a hospital room, he was in the surgeon's room. Doctors were all around him, gloved hands full of blood as they operated on the patient on the table.

"Heart rate is dropping, we need to find the source of the bleeding!" the doctor said urgently. The blood was a bit much for Stiles, and he started gagging. "Well, that's disgusting." He said, wondering if he was dreaming. He backed away from the table, but something was nagging at him to get closer. He took a few tentative steps towards the table and looked at the patient. His mouth was stuffed with a large tube, breathing for him, and his face was covered in nasty cuts and covered in blood from a gash on his hairline. There was a large gauze pad covering the gash, which was seeping through. But after looking past all the blood and gore on his face, Stiles' heart stopped.

He'd once read a physiologist book about how if a person saw his own face, he might not even recognize himself, because you've never seen your own face, not really. You've seen it in pictures and in the mirror, but you've never actually seen it. Therefore, if you did, there was no guarantee that you would recognize yourself. But at that moment Stiles knew it was bullshit. Even covered in blood, Stiles knew he was looking at himself. His heart started beating a mile a minute and he his breathing became labored. "No.. no this can't be happening." He said, running a hand through his hair. "Am-am I dead?" he said to himself. "Wait no they're operating on me, so I must be alive. Is this a dream?" he asked no one in particular. "Wake up Stiles. Wake up, Stiles!" He shouted, grabbing his hair in distress. But it wasn't working. He couldn't bear to look at himself on the table anymore and reached for the door. Instead of grabbing onto the door, his hand went right through it. "Shit!" he said, and looked at his hand in wonder. He put it towards the door again, and it slipped right through. He stepped closer to the door and walked towards it, bracing for impact. But the impact never came. When he opened his eyes, he was on the other side of the door. He walked away quickly, then ran. He wanted to be as far away from that operating table as possible. He ran down the halls, looking for a familiar face, anyone that he knew.

"Do you think this is a dream, Stiles?" He heard something say behind him. Stiles stopped running, heart skipping a beat. The rest of the crash came back to him in a flash. The nogitsune's voice, its taunting. It's threats. "I told you I'd kill you, Stiles… did you think I was lying?"

Stiles breathing hitched. He turned towards the voice slowly, but there was nothing there. He whirled around trying to find it, but there was no one in sight. "Do you really think there was a deer on that road Stiles?" It said, taunting him. "I made you see it, Stiles… I put you here. All this pain and suffering your body is feeling. I caused it."

"What do you want!" Stiles shouted.

"Do you remember my riddles, Stiles..?" Stiles paused, unsure what he was trying to get to this time. "If I drink, I die, If I eat I am fine. What am I?"

"A fire." Stiles said automatically, eyes searching all around him.

"It brings back the lost as though never gone, shines laughter and tears with light long since shone; a moment to make, a lifetime to shed; valued then but lost when you're dead. What Is It?

"A memory."

"Poor people have it, rich people need it, if you eat it you die. What is it?"

"Nothing." No matter how much he searched, the nogitsune was nowhere. The only place left was...

"I have no life but I can die, what am I?"

Stiles thought about it but came up blank. He hadn't heard this one before. And he knew what was coming next if he didn't know the answer. "I don't know." He said, voice shaking.

"I have no life but I can die… what am I?" it hissed, sounding next to his ear. Stiles cupped his hands around his ears and whirled around, finding nothing. He knew where the voice was coming from now, and there was no way to stop it.

"I don't know!" He said desperately.

"I have no life!" it yelled all around him "But I can die! What. Am I?" There had to be a reason. A reason why the nogitsune was only in his head. Why it only seemed to be attacking him. There must still be a reason why he was suddenly able to show itself in some form or another, even if it was only his voice. But why only to him? And why were his visions so weak when before he had started with full on hallucinations and waking dreams? They were never a flash of something like the deer, and it was never that simple. Wouldn't he want revenge against them all? Unless Stiles was the only one he could reach out to for some reason. Unless he needed something from Stiles. There had to be a link. A link… everything clicked for Stiles.

"A battery…" He whispered. The nogitsune's ominous laughter echoed in his head, drowning out everything else. And then it was gone.