Notes: If you are wondering why this took so long, my beta and I both had exams and am now participating in 3 zines. So in case you are into Naruto I'm writing a short story for both the Naruto History Zine and the Mixup no Jutsu Zine. And in case you really like All Might from BNHA I'm a mod for the Plus Ultra Fashion Periodical as well (which will be free to download!) and we have some pretty great artists for that one, so go check it out.

Chapter 9

o0O0o

Stiles

Noshiko takes them all home. Well, she offers to do it but then Kira ends up driving because she's the one who has been affected the least, and the only one out of the four of them who has actually slept. Scott might have too, Stiles thinks to himself, but Scott is also being weirdly silent, almost absent, and Stiles can't really fault him for it. He won't begrudge him for taking some time to process everything. Stiles sure as hell needs it too. The past two days have been a roller coaster of emotion. He can hardly believe that yesterday around this time he was curled up on a couch with Scott watching Star Wars, still mostly human and oblivious.

Now he's not either - human or oblivious - and while he would give anything to go back to being the simple sidekick token human of the pack, he thinks there might be some good things to come out of this too. He squeezes Scott's hand a little.

On his other side, Noshiko is trying to hold herself together. They are all squeezed together on the backseat. She looks younger - almost childlike - and Stiles can't pinpoint why he feels like that. The regal and self-possessed air she always has around her has not left and even with the cast on her wrist and bruises around her neck she seems unrattled and almost untouchable as always. Except for how Stiles knows that she isn't. He is sixteen going on a thousand and the instinctive protectiveness he feels when he looks at her, tastes her confusion and unsettlement is weird and unsettling itself in its suddenness. Somewhere in the back of his brain there is a part of him that bristles at one of their own, another (former) Kitsune, so lost and out of place.

The rest of him just hates seeing her like this, no matter what she has done to him. No one deserves the things that she had to go through, and if she reacted violently then, well - so did Stiles. She regrets it, he has no doubts about that, because he does too. He can taste her regret in the air around them; bitter and heavy, like too much dark chocolate, and clogging his nose, pressing like a weight on the back of his tongue and suffocating any words he might say before he can think to speak them. He doesn't dare break this quiet accord they seem to have found. The peace between them feels tenuous enough already.

It looks like she believes him when he says he's Stiles, but he is still Void. There is no changing that. Saying he doesn't want to hurt people would always be at least a partial lie now, and Noshiko is a protector at heart, like all Celestials. That she's tolerating him this much - more than tolerating - that she gave up her powers and her immortality for him, that she's leaning on him and trusts him enough to let him close, is nothing short of a miracle. He's grateful and baffled at the same time, and takes it as the concession that it is.

He grips Scott's hand tighter until Scott squeezes back, but he can't take his eyes of the bruises around Noshio's neck. He scrapes together what courage he has left and lays a hand lightly on her arm to get her attention.

"I- I want to see if I can do something about that-" he gestures at her wrist and neck with his one free hand-"if… if you'd let me."

It's too much trust he's asking for here, and too soon, he knows, but he hates what he did and if he can fix at least a little bit of it than he has to try. He squirms a little under Noshiko's heavy gaze, but eventually she holds out her hand and lets him take it. She's watching him with something like curiosity. That's strange. He'd expected apprehension.

"This shouldn't hurt," he says, then the by now all too familiar black veins on pulsing energy start crawling up is arm. He savors the burn of it through his blood, but keeps watching the bruises around Noshiko's neck at the same time. Only when there is no more pain or discomfort left in her and the last of them has faded does he pull his hand back.

Noshiko is still staring at him turning her wrist this way and that, clenching and unclenching her fingers at the same time. He can't be sure that he healed it completely - broken bones are different from bruises after all - but he hopes he at least helped it heal faster.

"Remarkable," says Noshiko. "I never knew that your kind can heal." The words hold neither judgement nor thanks, and Stiles decides that he doesn't have the energy to spare on trying to figure out if there is a hidden meaning in that or not.

For now they have an angry and worried pack to placate, and a probably even angrier and even more worried father to calm down. Stiles isn't looking forward to that conversation in the slightest.

They arrive at his house faster than he expects. He hasn't had any time to prepare himself, doesn't know how to face his father or the rest of the pack, doesn't know what to say to them when they inevitably ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, running away like that.

He knows he doesn't want to lie to them, and that - now that there is no other immediate danger anymore - he will not stay long. Allison and Aiden have waited too long for him to get his act together already.

He expects Kira to just drop them off and then take her mother home. Stiles is almost reluctant to let them go, can barely stand to let her out of his sight, but Noshiko will be better helped by her family. The loss of her powers, no matter how willing, was traumatic and her husband and Kira will be more adept at settling her than Stiles could ever hope to be. But when Scott and Stiles get out of the car, Kira kills the engine and then both her and her mother follow them to the door.

"You will need someone to help you explain," is all that Noshiko says to him and Stiles feels a weight lift off of his shoulders. This conversation will still be uncomfortable, but having Noshiko and Kira back him up as well as Scott should make all of it go far smoother than he'd feared.

Scott doesn't let go of his hand until Stiles needs it to unlock his front door. He also still doesn't say anything, but he is a reassuring presence at his shoulder when Stiles hugs his dad, and when he becomes overwhelmed with answering the initial questions that come from every direction at once, Scott shakes off his stupor, steps in and tells the others to quiet down, one question at a time please. They are all there - his dad, Lydia, Isaac, Malia, Derek, Ethan - the only ones missing are Mr Argent and Melissa. None of them look happy about being told to be quiet, but they do comply eventually.

"Yeah and give me some room to breathe while you're at it, why don't you?" The air is heavy with the taste of worry, fear, annoyance and a plethora of other emotions all in varying levels of intensity and it both gives Stiles a headache and makes his stomach growl. He suppresses the urge to poke the hornet's nest of a room full of emotionally supercharged supernaturals - just to see what would happen - and begins to explain.

But even without the new sense, he could taste the tension in the air. Derek has planted himself, cross armed next to the window. He looks like an especially grumpy gargoyle, and the way he never takes his eyes off Stiles isn't making him any less anxious. Scott must sense his anxiety, because he grabs Stiles' hand and drags him over to the couch. A look from Scott has Malia and Isaac getting up to make room for them, but it's Noshiko who sinks down next to Stiles on the cushioned piece of furniture. Scott, still not letting go of his hand, sinks down on the armrest.

Stiles starts at the beginning, months back, tells them how he isolated himself because he didn't think he was safe to be around. How he went to the memorial because he wasn't getting any better so he might as well try and see how he'd fare back in civilisation. How he came back to school. What happened with the girl he had taken to the nurse, the dreams and everything else.

He's vaguely aware of Lydia's swallowed gasp and the fear barely hidden on Isaac's face, but he watched his father more than anyone else as he talks. His dad is visibly trying to keep himself from screaming and Stiles can't even say he blames him. Knowing that the supernatural exists was already almost too much for his dad, once. Now coming to terms with the fact that his son is part of that world and part of the less friendly faction to boot? He sees his dad's tense shoulders, watches his eyebrow twitch and knows this could break them.

He keeps telling the story.

The only thing he leaves out are the memories, and he's grateful when Scott doesn't bring it up either, though he must notice Stiles' deliberate omission. It's just that it's something he himself hasn't dealt with yet. He needs some more time before he drops that bombshell.

The fact that he's supernatural now is a hard enough pill to swallow. The room is quiet while he talks, though. Ethan is staring at Stiles' face like he's not sure if he wants to punch his teeth in right now or wait until later. His eyes flicker to his and Scott's entwined fingers from time to time and eventually he settles on pacing the room and not looking at anyone while he listens to the rest of the story.

When he gets to what happened at the hospital Stiles breaks off, because self-defence is one thing, but Stiles knows he was unnecessarily vicious then. Too much emotion and too much rage - too many conflicting instincts, new senses that he still can't control… He snapped, plain and simple, and it had almost cost Noshiko her life.

Loathe as he is to admit it, he's starting to realise what Scott meant way back when, when he said that being around Allison made him weak. Being around Scott makes him emotional to the point of irrationality. It's not weakness, he knows that. It's a lack of control and control can be learned, but he hasn't yet and he hates what he almost did to Noshiko because of it, twice now. What happens the next time Scott is in danger around him? Or his dad? Someone else he cares about?

He must have fallen silent for too long because Noshiko leans forward, picks up from there and tells the pack about their fight. She's entirely neutral in her recounting of events, not laying any blame at anyone's feet, but Kira's eyes still go wide as she hears what happened and she looks between the two of them like she doesn't know who to be more angry with. Malia comes up behind her and lays a hand on her shoulder, giving Kira a look that communicates 'They are both idiots. It's not worth it' better than words possibly could. It doesn't drain the tension out of Kira's ramrod straight back, but she doesn't interrupt them either. It gives Stiles some time to prepare and when it's time for him to pick up the tale again his voice is only a little shaky.

He tells them about how he called Derek, even though Derek must have told them this part already. How he came home and why he left again for the preserve. About calling to Noshiko and keeping all others away with the storm. About Scott being a stubborn idiot and finding him anyway and everything that happened after, as much as he remembers of it.

Another thing he leaves out is his and Scott's new relationship. Not because he's not proud of it or because he's afraid of how everyone would react, or even because he doesn't want them to know. No, it's because it's still so new that Stiles himself has trouble believing it. Knowing that Scott loves him isn't new, but loving each other this way is, and he wants to keep this thing between them private until they get the chance to learn what exactly they are to each other now.

It's Kira who tells them about what happened after he collapsed. Her voice is still angry, but despite it she's good at storytelling. Stiles listens carefully, as this part is new to him as well. He has a vague idea what must have happened, but it's different listening to her telling the actual story.

Kira gave her permission, Scott his energy and Noshiko the rest of her spark to save him, and now Stiles is alive and anchored to Scott. He's bound and restricted in a way he knows no other of his kind would ever accept, let alone appreciate.

He takes a moment to feel for it, concentrates on the thread that connects him to Scott. As much as it disturbs him, Stiles loves it. It grounds him, this almost imperceptible connection. It's like another added sense, a low grade awareness that Scott is there. He thinks he'll always know where to find him now, no matter where they go. This must be what a pack bond is like, for wolves.

He thought he'd been part of Scott's pack before, as a human, and he was. This is different. Wolves can only form rudimentary bonds with humans. They aren't supposed to be able to for them with Nogitsune at all. With humans, it's because of a lack of magic. With Stiles' kind, it's because of a fundamental incompatibility between the species. Scott can never be his alpha. Stiles' very nature would rebel against anyone having that sort of control over him, but now they are bound together in a similar way.

With Scott as his tether, Stiles feels more real. Less like a spirit possessing himself and more like an actual person. He doesn't feel like he could slip out of his body anymore. So yes, he loves it. Even if it is barely noticable.

Kira finishes her part hesitantly, glancing at her mother, unsure of whether or not to keep her condition secret. Noshiko huffs with irritation and pushes herself up from the couch. She moves slowly. Her bruises he could heal, but the wrist must still be tender and Stiles could do nothing for her general fatigue. She almost falters when trying to stand and Stiles reaches out to steady her, but she finds her balance without his help.

"I made a mistake in judging him for what he has become rather than who he decides to be from now on. This mistake almost cost two innocent lives. In rectifying it, I gave up the last of my spark. This is the burden I must bear from now on. I am effectively human and I will not be able to help with what must happen now." Where at first she had addressed the entire room, she now turns and only speaks to Stiles. "You will be on your own for that."

Stiles swallows and nods. He hadn't expected any different, but he shouldn't be surprised that Noshiko feels responsible as well. They were, after all, hurt by the demon she summoned. "I'll handle it," he says, even if he's not quite sure he can.

"Wait! Just wait a minute!" and, oh yeah that's his dad, finally speaking up. "Are you telling me that- that you-?"

God, he can't even say it. "That I'm a Nogitsune now?" Stiles finishes for him, hyper aware of the tension that spikes in the room at his admission. Ethan bristles in his corner and there is a low growl coming from Derek's direction, but Stiles doesn't care enough to turn and check. He's focused on his dad. "Yeah. There's kinda nothing to be done about that at this point." Stiles hears the bitterness in his own voice and it sounds biting, but it's drowned out by his dad's sharp intake of breath.

Once more he finds himself grateful for Scott, his reassuring presence at Stiles shoulder, the warm grip he has on Stiles' fingers. It's a comfort and an encouragement to have him here with Stiles, at his side. His entire side feels warm where Scott is pressed against him and even with how uneasy the situation is it gives him hope. "I don't particularly feel like hurting anyone in this room, if that helps?"

His dad flinches at that. He looks as if he wants to step closer, but can't bring himself to do it. "But you're still Stiles? You're still my son?" And god the desperation in his voice could break Stiles if he let it. Hasn't his dad been through enough?

At least that is one thing he can reassure him about. "Yeah, I guess. I'm mostly still me."

"Mostly?" That's Derek's voice and it's sharp and threatening, but Stiles ignores that part. Derek doesn't frighten him, not the way his dad does. He can survive without Derek. He can't live without his dad.

"Mostly." He doesn't have a better explanation for how he feels like he's two beings become one, even if he knows the old Fox is dead. "Most of me is Stiles and the rest is… Well, I'd rather be Stiles than the Other, if I get to choose."

That pained look is still on his dad's face and Stiles can't- He just can't take it anymore. He get up, ignores the tension rising with him and really he wouldn't be surprised to see sparks flying through the air at this point with how tightly coiled the room is. He moves slowly, so unbearably slowly, telegraphing every move as to not startle anyone in the room and then he's standing in front of his dad and he doesn't know what kind of expression he's wearing but his father's eyes soften when he sees it.

He lays a hand on Stiles jaw, carefully as if he's afraid Stiles is a soap bubble or an illusion and will vanish if touched. Stiles could tell him that that's not how illusions work but then his dad is tilting his head, staring into his eyes and says, "You are my son," and then Stiles doesn't care about anything anymore. He's pulled into a hug so fierce it might break his ribs, but that seems like an acceptable price to pay for this closeness. His dad believes him. His dad thinks he can still be Stiles and that is all he wanted, everything he'd hoped for.

It takes him a full five minutes to let go and step back again. His eyes are wet and so are his dad's but Stiles blinks away the moisture and looks at the rest of the room.

The tension is still there.

Out of everyone, only Malia and Scott look like they don't care about what Stiles is. Scott looks like he's proud even, which makes no sense at all and Malia gives Stiles a sharp and dangerous smile. He suddenly remembers that she probably understands best what it is like to deal with instincts you never wanted, but can't bring yourself to hate. She never asked to be a coyote the same way he never asked to be a fox, the same way Scott never asked to be a wolf. If they could grow into their own, and become the amazing people that they are, then maybe so can Stiles. He can certainly try.

Lydia is frowning, probably going back through their every interactions in the past months and trying to figure out if she could have seen it before. She couldn't have, or maybe she could, she's Lydia after all, but it doesn't matter anymore. It's done, it's irreversible, and it's certainly not her fault. Stiles wants to tell her as much, but he's not sure she'd like him to talk about her misplaced guilt in front of the entire pack. He makes a mental note to have that conversation later, in private.

Then, he's distracted by movement besides him. Isaac has withdrawn himself, edging towards the doorway in an not at all subtle attempt to put himself in a better position to run the moment Stiles snaps. While Stiles has never particularly cared about Isaac Lahey's opinion of him, it still stings to know that he's afraid. He freezes when he feels Stiles' eyes on him and eventually he turns to Scott. "You're sure he's safe to be around?"

Behind Stiles his dad tenses, but then Derek speaks up at the same time as Scott nods. "He's Stiles. He's never been safe to be around. I don't see how this changes anything." Stiles feels his uncertainty and hears his determination and he realises that that is probably as much verbal acceptance as he can expect from Derek. He won't trust Stiles without watching him for a while and that's okay. It's a relief that he's even willing to try, but it doesn't relax Isaac any.

Stiles sighs. "You're fine, Isaac. Even if I wanted to, which I don't, it would be incredibly stupid of me to hurt anyone in Scott's pack, seeing as he's a True Alpha and could actually kill me for it. I wouldn't do anything to any of you," he says, turning from Isaac and letting his gaze rest on each and every single person in the room. "Because I don't want to." he stresses again.

It's not even a lie. There are things itching in his brain constantly. Things that do and don't belong, urges to cut and rip, to find everyone's weak spots and whisper just the right words into their ears to make them break. To pour verbal salt into mental wounds and then feast on the sting it causes, but when he looks around this room there's nothing. He can still taste the heightened emotions all around him. He still sees the cracks in everyone, the places he could slip in to destroy them, but not one of these people register as prey. He doesn't understand it, doesn't know how he went from having to pull himself together not to hurt Scott - Scott, the one he would give anything to protect - to being comfortable and in control in a room filled with what could be a feast of chaos and destruction if he so chose. Maybe it's the bond he now has with Scott and by extension his pack, or maybe even their cautious acceptance has sparked some other new instinct. Whatever it is, he'll take it and be thankful.

"I don't want to hurt anyone." His voice is small and even if this actually is a lie, it's only half so. It would be more accurate to say that he doesn't want to want to hurt anyone. He shakes the thought off and turns to Ethan, who has been quiet and quietly seething the entire time. It's easier to focus on him than on the apprehension of everyone else.

"You're only here because Scott promised you that I could help Aiden." It's not a question because why else would Ethan be here? Stiles has no illusions about the twins' loyalty. It's to each other first and everyone else second. They have a truce with this pack, but they aren't part of it, not really. Not yet. And Ethan certainly doesn't care about Stiles enough to try and look for him out of worry. Which is why it's easier to focus on him. His emotions are not at all focused on Stiles.

"That's right." Ethan confirms in the next moment, taking a step away from the wall and crossing his arms. "Are you telling me you can't? Won't?"

"No," Stiles tries not to be offended by this obvious lack of faith in his willingness to help, reminds himself that Ethan has no reason to trust him. It doesn't work entirely. "I'm saying I don't know if I can do it. I've obviously never done it before. Doesn't mean I won't try. It's kind of my responsibility."

Ethan huffs but Stiles is already turning back to the rest of the room. "I know this is- " He struggles for the right word for a second "-unexpected and that you all probably have questions. But if there's nothing absolutely life-or-death important, I'd like to call Melissa and go over to the hospital now. Aiden and Allison have been out of it for far too long already, and now I think I can do something about it. This time without interruptions."

"I have a question." says Isaac immediately, voice sharp. "How do we know that you are who you say you are? That you're still Stiles? The sheriff seems to believe it and of course I trust Scott but- I mean, not to play devil's advocate here, but we've been tricked before."

It's a valid question and one he had hoped to avoid with Noshiko's advocacy. Part of him is thankful that at least one person in this pack besides him is adequately paranoid, but on the other hand… he groans. "I can't prove that I am who I say I am. I mean, what do you expect me to do? Tell you something only Stiles would know? I can't because if I was possessed It would know everything anyway. I just… either you believe me, Scott, Kira and Noshiko or you don't. There is nothing I can do to convince you, Isaac. Or is there?"

Isaac watches him, biting his lip and shoulders a bit hunched like they still so often are, when he feels put on the spot. He's not happy with Stiles' answer, really Stiles hadn't expected him to be. Isaac isn't a cautious person by nature, and he trusts Scott more than even Stiles trusts Scott sometimes but in this, for Allison? Yeah, this is round about the reaction he expected. The fact remains thought that he wants Allison back as much as the rest of them do, and the two urges visibly tear at him.

It's made worse by Stiles being unable to prove anything. He could prove he's Nogitsune, but that probably wouldn't improve the situation. With the pack knowing what he is he shouldn't blame then for thinking that he's trying to get close to the patients for some nefarious purpose or another. He isn't, but he can still understand Isaac's thought process.

While Isaac can't make up his mind of whether or not to trust him, it seems Lydia is getting frustrated with everyone's lack of action. "This is getting us nowhere," she says, impatiently. "If Stiles is who he says he is, then he can help. If he isn't, we'll deal with it. It's not like we'll leave him alone to do whatever he has to do. We'll be right there watching and if something starts looking dubious we'll be able to intervene. Until then there is no use in worrying, is there?" Her eyes are intense and boring right through Stiles and he doesn't need her to speak the words, he can read the threat right there on her face. 'Hurt her and I'll make you wish you had never been born'.

Stiles smiles nervously, then nods. There is no use in disagreeing with Lydia Martin and if she thinks he needs supervision than he'll put up with it, for now.

"Good." she says primly after Isaac finally agrees as well. He's glaring daggers at the back of Stiles' head and "Then let's go."

o0O0o

Scott calls Melissa from the car, and tells her to meet them in front of Alison's and Aiden's rooms because they might have found a cure.

She does, and Chris Argent is with her when they arrive. The hallway ends up rather crammed with the entire pack plus parents and auxiliary present. The only one who is missing is Deaton and Stiles briefly thinks that they might want to call him, just so that he doesn't feel left out, but really there is no reason for him to be here other than that, and they've wasted enough time. Wasted too much time.

"You found something?" Chris looks hopeful against his will, like he knows better than to expect good news, but can't quite help it either.

Isaac, Lydia and Derek are still watching Stiles all with varying degrees of wariness, but he ignores it when he turns to reply. "There might be something I can do." Might. If they let him.

Chris obviously notes the tension in the air and reacts to it with tension of his own, but Stiles has by now spent hours explaining everything. He's not going to do it again. He just wants to get it over with.

"Melissa, would you come with? If this works there should probably be a nurse present when they wake up. And even if they don't. I can't really be sure what will happen."

Stiles speaks with urgency and Melissa and Chris must both pick up on it as they refrain from asking further questions. Melissa agrees easily and when Lydia insists on there being at least one other pack member with them she sighs and shakes her head. "Two more people at most, if there must be any. Four people at once is already stretching it, three would be better."

Stiles nods, already thinking. "There are three others with the same condition. They are here too, right? On this floor? I'll start with them." It might sound heartless, but if he fails he'd rather fail on someone he doesn't care about, and if it works, it will prove to the rest that he's not trying to kill anyone before they have to let him near their friend/child/sibling/lover.

Lydia seems to understand his pragmatism and is already nodding along. Good. No one else complains either, Isaac even seems relieved, though Scott looks like he knows Stiles' reasoning and doesn't like it one bit. Tough luck. It's not like Scott has come up with a better idea.

"So who else is coming with me?"

"Me, obviously." says Lydia immediately, shooting him a look that say she can't believe he'd be idiotic enough to even ask. "If something goes wrong I'll be the first to know, after all."

Stiles doesn't argue. He doesn't much care who goes with him, though he hope that nothing will go wrong enough that they will need Lydia's brand of death early detection powers. It's more for the pack's benefit than his; added insurance. He wonders how long he'll be able to make concessions like this, to work with and around their apprehension. It's already starting to grate on his nerves, no matter how understandable it is.

Stiles half expects Scott to volunteer, or maybe Isaac, but it's Ethan who steps forward before anyone else can. "Me too." He fixes Stiles with an unreadable look, but he thinks he understands anyway. Ethan doesn't trust anyone else to have his brother's best interest at heart, so of course he's coming. Isaac looks like he wants to protest, but Stiles really can't take any more delays.

"Okay then." He quickly turns to Melissa. "Lead the way."

She guides them to the door of a patient's room. It's past visiting hours already, which means that there are no potential friends of family members they'd need to kick out for Stiles to work. The sign next to the door reads "Vega Aswad" and there is a blank space beneath. It's a room with two beds. One of them is empty. As they step in, Stiles' eyes are drawn to the woman lying on the other.

She's tall and her olive skin contrasts sharply with the stark white of the bedsheets. There are fresh flowers on her bedside table and at least half a dozen cards, all colorful and probably filled with well wishes. At least three of them look handmade by children and there is a small blue teddy bear leaned against the vase, that contains the brightest arrangement of daisies and wildflowers Stiles has ever seen.

"She teaches preschool," Melissa mentions when she notices Stiles' look. "Pretty young teacher, too. The kids love her, as you can see. She gets a different visitor every day."

Stiles swallows. "Well then let's get these kids their teacher back, shall we?" he says it quietly, mostly to himself. There's no use in feeling guilty, but he does it anyway.

Lydia grabs his hand as he moves forward. "You know I'll be watching you, because I can't quite trust you yet, but I want you to know, that I do want to believe you. The Stiles I know would never have done this and you're fixing it now, so don't go wasting any thoughts on blaming yourself. You can't afford the distraction." There is tension in her shoulders. Stiles is getting sick of people being tense around him all the time.

"I know," he says and pulls away. She's right of course, and of course she sees right through him. Guilt isn't a pretty emotion, but he's been feeling it for so long now that it's like it has become part of him. However, he's not doing this out of guilt, and she's right. The most it does for him now is distract from what needs to be done.

He's doing this because someone has to help, and he can. He'll just have to remember that and not let himself get distracted.

"How long until someone comes in here to check on her?" he asks Melissa, while pulling up one of those plastic chairs that exist solely to torture people into not staying past visiting hours next to the bed, so that he can sit while he works.

"Not for another hour at least." She lays a hand on his shoulder and he turns to look at her. "Stiles, are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"No." He could lie to reassure her, but what good would that do anyone? "But no one else knows either so I might as well. If it doesn't work it shouldn't hurt her." Shouldn't because he doesn't actually know what he's doing.

He sits down, lets her hand slip off of him. Ethan and Lydia watch from the foot of the bed - one mistrustful, the other concerned - and Melissa walks around to the other side to check the heart rate monitor and the IV bag.

"What exactly are you going to do?" she asks after finding nothing out of the ordinary.

"She's trapped in her own mind by a curse. An illusion. I'm going to do what you, Lydia, and Scott did for me. I'll go in there and try to break the illusion. If I do it right she should wake up after."

"An illusion of what?"

"An illusion cast by a Nogitsune not nearly as nice as I am. To be frank I have no idea what it is, but I doubt it's pleasant." That shuts up any further questions.

Stiles lays a hand on Aswad's forehead, closes his eyes and blanks out everything else. He casts his senses out for her, her mind her emotions, her weak links. When he finds her fear it's so intense that it almost chokes him. He braces himself and follows it into the depths of her mind

o0O0o

When he opens his eyes again, at first he thinks he must have done it wrong, or worse, that he's too late and her mind has shattered and there is nothing left for him to find. But he felt her emotions when he came in here, can still feel them, is weaker for some reason. He knows there's something here. He just can't see.

Everything around him is dark. There is no light to tell him where he is, or, for that matter, where Vega Aswad's self is hidden. That is what he needs to find, or it should be. Like what Scott and Lydia had done for him. He needs to find her in her own mind and wake her up. Once he makes her see that what's around her isn't real the illusion should break on it's own and she should wake up. In theory at least. God he's so in over his head.

The entire dreamscape is oozing absolutely mind numbing terror.

Anyone else would be driven mad by this, but Stiles, being what he is now, brushes it off. Well, mostly. He wants to take it in and bask in the tantalizing feeling of feeding on someone else's fear. He pushes the thought away. If he does this now, it wouldn't help her. What he needs to do is find her.

"Hello?" he tries. "Ms Aswad? Can you hear me?" He doesn't expect it to work, but can't hurt to try right? Wrong.

He hasn't even finished speaking before the crying starts, but it's not just one voice. It's hundreds of voices, all childlike and so loud that Stiles has to clamp his hands over his ears as to not go deaf. He can't see them in this darkness, but there must be hundreds of children all around him, all of them screaming, all of them crying, afraid and angry and in pain. He didn't feel them before, doesn't feel them now, so he knows they can't be real, knows the must be a construct of Vega Aswad's mind and the illusion that traps her here.

And that's when it clicks, what this is. The darkness should have given it away already. It's fear. The illusion is building on her fear. Melissa said this woman is a teacher, of course she'd be afraid of crying children. It might represent a fear of failure or a specific event in her past, but as soon as the crying started the fear that saturates this place got even more intense.

The illusion shows her her worst fears, her worst nightmare over and over again until she's brimming full with terror and ripe for the picking by one of Stiles' kind.

God he hates the asshole that did this. It terrifies him that he could do the same. He has been searching the Other's memories, but while It had cast this curse, and similar variations of it before, curse breaking wasn't exactly something It had done often.

"MS ASWAD!" Stiles is shouting at the top of his lungs now, but he could have whispered just as well. His voice is drowned out by all the screaming and crying around him. He needs a different plan.

He needs to figure out what exactly it is that this woman is afraid of so that he can counteract it. The first part is obvious; the darkness. His first instinct is to try and cast an illusion that would create light, but the magic fizzles out as soon as he casts it. You can't put an illusion inside of another illusion, apparently.

The next thing he tries is to manipulate this one to give him some light. The power that created it is his now after all, he should be able to access it. However, this illusion didn't spring from his own mind, not even from the Other's, but from the fears already present in Aswad's. The Other hadn't even been there when it had been cast, had delivered this curse by proxy and via poison. In the end, the illusion does respond to Stiles but as darkness is one of the fundamental fears that it is build on, he can't force it t make any light. He curses, tries to think though the noise of the screaming and crying, invisible children around him. Then he has an idea. It's a stupid idea and he can feel himself regret it already but he's running out of options here. Maybe he can work within the parameters of the spell to trick it into making light. He's a trickster after all. Should be simple. Right.

When he was a child, Stiles had been afraid of lightning. That fear has long since past, with help from his mum and later his dad and Scott he'd conquered it, and by now he can see the beauty in storms and the way they cleansed the earth.

His old fear has been replaced by some newer, rather more tangible ones. Which, he supposes, is to be expected when you live in Beacon Hills and don't stick your head in the sand. For now, though, he tries to call up on it again. He tries to remember how it felt to curl up wrapped in a blanket and hidden under his bed, flinching at every strike of thunder, at every flash of light. Remembers being frozen and unable to move while the wind howled outside. Remembers his own single minded terror from when he was a child. Once he has a firm grasp on the memory he pushes it outward and into the magic around him.

The change is instantaneous and far more severe than he had hoped it would be. The magic of the illusion picks up on the new fear and incorporates it accordingly. The wind picks up around him, so strong that it lifts him off his feet and into the air, away from the screaming voices. Higher and higher, he's lifted, still surrounded by impenetrable darkness until - there! - a flash of lightning.

It only lasts a split second and Stiles doesn't get the chance to see much, but there's something in the distance.

Another flash, then a crash of thunder and the wind has taken him a little closer and now he sees - It's a platform, maybe five square feet if that, and it stands high up in the middle of the clouds. On it, lying flat on her stomach and clinging to the edges as to not be blown right off, is a small dark shape that can only be Vega Aswad.

Stiles curses. Of course one of her fears would be heights.

He angles himself and with some maneuvering and a huge amount of luck, he manages to get himself close enough to grab hold of the platform himself. It's tiny. It's smaller than Stiles doesn't want to think about what it must have been like, being trapped up here with nothing but darkness and the screaming voices of children for company.

"Hey!" he screams over the rushing wind. "You wanna get out of here?"

Even with absolute terror permeating every corner of her psyche, Vega manages to look at Stiles and convey how unimpressed she is with him in a single look. If Stiles wasn't more worried that they were both going to die here, he'd be impressed. Can you even die in your own mind? In someone else's? The answer is 'yes', Stiles. You know that.

He can't try to convince her that this isn't real. Even if she would be willing to listen, which Stiles isn't sure about, then it's still too loud for his words to reach her. He needs another idea and fast. Then it hits him.

"Yeah, well, grab my hand!"

"What?" The prospect of loosening the grip of even one of her hands from the platform's edge seemingly doesn't sit well with her. And, well, Stiles gets that but it's not going to help them get out of here.

"JUST DO IT!"

She hesitates a second longer, then reaches out with more speed than Stiles would have thought her capable of and grabs his wrist.

Stiles starts pulling her fear into himself instantly. There is far too much of it, but he keeps at it, keeps taking in her terror, her dread, her panic and confusion. He doesn't notice the wind and the screams falling quiet around them, or the fact that the darkness slowly lightens, that the platform they are both still clinging too lowers to the ground, inch by inch.

When he is done, there is no more fear left in Vega Aswad - there is nothing left for the illusion to amplify and feed off of. It shatters around them and they are both violently expelled back into reality.t

o0O0o

The chair hits the floor and takes Stiles with it as he stumbles backwards and away from the bed, where Vega's body is arching off the mattress, mouth twisted into a silent scream and eyes wide open. The heart monitor is beeping like crazy and her breaths come in huge, panting gasps. She slumps back down not a second later, eyes closed again and breathing evening out, but it takes a moment until the peeping dies down to a more normal pace. She's not awake, but-

Melissa is at her side in an instant, checking her over. Lydia and Ethan are both incredibly tense, Ethan is growling at Stiles and Lydia looks betrayed, but neither of them move. Stiles is slowly getting up again, shaking his head because this shouldn't be happening, right? He hadn't-

Melissa leans back and says, "She's sleeping. Stiles, I have no idea what you just did but she's not in a coma anymore. She should wake up naturally within the day."

Stiles folds into himself at the words. It worked. It worked! He did it!

"I did it?," he asks, still out of breath and shaking. "I- I really. I did it? That was absolutely terrifying, but it worked!" He laughs, breathless and light and disbelieving but the woman on the hospital bed is alive and she's going to be fine and this feels like the first thing Stiles has done right in months.

He sinks to the floor again, next to the chair he knocked over, watching Melissa adjust medication and update the patient's file. She should probably be paging a doctor right about now, but Stiles still has to repeat this process four times before she can call on anyone who would kick them out.

There is a hand on his shoulder suddenly and he startles, but it's just Lydia who's smiling at him for a brief moment and then hurls him up. Here is something like pride and hope in here eyes and an apology that she will never voice and Stiles doesn't need to hear. "Come on," she says. "You've got work to do."

"Yeah. Looks like I do."

o0O0o

The next two patients share a room. Stiles still insists on working on the people he doesn't know first, saying that, as he doesn't know them, or how their minds work, they will be harder to wake. Now that he's managed it with one, he wants to finish the harder part first. It's mostly true and goes well enough.

Alexander Walters turns out to be most afraid of drowning, being chased and his ex-wife. Which turns into an interesting but horrifying combined illusion of him being stuck in an endlessly tall building, that is constantly filling up with water. The man is running through corridors always looking for a way further up to escape the rising tide, when Stiles finds him and in the few minutes he needs the man to stand still so he can do what needs to be done, they almost get themselves eaten by a shark-shaped Melinda Walters. It's overall not a very pleasant experience, but he and Mr Walters get out of it mostly unscratched only a little traumatized.

Ian Archer is arachnophobic and Stiles will never, in his entire life, talk about what he saw in that man's mind and instead plans to spend the rest of it trying to forget.

What he will never want to forget is the collective breath of relief that goes through the waiting room when Melissa tells the others that it's working. Scott's smile might as well outshine the sun and even Isaac and Chris look a little more than tentatively hopeful at the news. There are hugs and someone slaps his back at some point. Probably Malia.

Finally he finds himself standing in Allison and Aiden's room. Melissa is with him again and so is Ethan, but Lydia, now satisfied that he's actually helping, has made space for Isaac and Scott. None of them protest when he sits down next to Aiden first.

"Just out of curiosity, what's Aiden's worst fear?" He poses the question at Ethan and he keeps his voice casual, if barely. A preschool teacher, a nurse and a banker had been bad enough. Stiles can only imagine what sort of fears someone like Aiden must have collected in his life.

Ethan just laughs bitterly and shakes his head.

'Well,' Stiles thinks. 'That's not ominous at all.'

Notes: How come these things always get longer than I thought they would? This chapter was 12k words before I decided that's too long. So Allison and Aiden got relegated to chapter 10 which is now a thing that exists, apparently, and should be out within the next few weeks. (Will this fic ever end? I'm not so sure anymore.)