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Chapter Eight: Motel California

The bus pulled up to the motel and Sophie stared out her window, Isaac glancing over her head as the two got the chills at the look of the place. "I don't like it here," Lydia told the group as they filed off the bus, Coach yelling something about no hanky-panky.

"I guess I've got a single," Sophie replied quietly, grabbing a key and silently walking off to her room, Allison and Stiles staring at her weirdly as she left. The other werewolves of the group walked off to their rooms as Lydia stayed back.

"Allison, I really don't like this place," she repeated and Allison frowned.

"Lydia, it's just one night," Allison reasoned and Lydia shook her head.

"A lot can happen in a night," she mumbled to herself as they headed toward their room.

Later that evening, Sophie found herself in the corner of her room, behind the bed, hands over her ears, pleading for the open space to stop the abuse. "Please, please, I'm so sorry," she mumbled over and over again, trying to shrink.

"You stupid piece of shit, I told you to clean your room because I have a guy coming over, now he's going to think I'm a worthless piece of shit just like you," Sophie replied to herself, hearing her mother's voice and then the sound of a smack echoing throughout the room.

"Please, I'll clean it right now, I promise," Sophie continued the conversation with herself, eyes squeezed tighter as she tried to make the voices go away. She heard another smack as her face turned to the side, a tear sliding down her cheek, red in her mind.

"You are such a worth piece of shit, no wonder Isaac never defended you, you don't deserve him, you don't deserve anyone," she replied in her mother's voice, now slurring from the alcohol.

"No, Isaac loves me and I love him, I just need to-,"

"Need to what? Need to trust him? Sweetie, he was the best thing you've ever had and probably with ever get and he's gone. You've really fucked this one up. And he doesn't love you, he felt sorry for you like every goddamned person you meet does. No one truly likes you," her mother's voice echoed in her ear and she screamed, smacking her head against the wall to stop the voices in her head.

A few doors down, Lydia, Stiles and Allison were realizing what was happening with the hotel. Four suicides were going to take place tonight and they had four werewolf friends going clinically insane inside their own heads.

Lydia stopped talking when she heard a baby crying and a woman yelling at the child before listening to the drowning of a baby. That's when they found Boyd, drowning himself in the bathtub in his room. As Stiles ran to the bus to get the road flares, Lydia found Isaac, scared like a lost puppy under the bed.

After the two burned Boyd and Isaac, they came to, glancing over at Stiles and Lydia. "What the hell happened?" Isaac asked, rubbing his burnt hand as it healed quickly.

"We have no idea but we need to find Scott," Stiles said in a rush voice, glancing at his phone.

"And Sophie," Lydia confirmed and Isaac's eyes got wide. "Isaac, what is it?"

"If we are having hallucinations of our worst fears, we need to find Sophie quickly," he panicked and went toward the door.

"Isaac wait! Explain!" Stiles yelled after him as Isaac ran down the hall toward Sophie's room. Isaac glanced back, slowing down a bit.

"Sophie's worst fears were a reality for her," he yelled back and then he was gone. Lydia glanced up at Stiles and gulped.

"You go find Scott, I'll help Isaac," she concluded before she ran off after Isaac.

"Just kill yourself Sophie, you're worthless and a pathetic excuse of a person and you should just do everyone a favor and off yourself," her mother told her and she stood up, walking to the bathroom and grabbing a razor. She stared down at it as she repeated, "Just kill yourself Sophie, you're worthless and a pathetic excuse of a person and you should just do everyone a favor and off yourself."

Sophie slit her wrists then, a bead of blood sliding down her wrist before quickly sealing shut, healing. Sophie let out a cry, before slicing the skin again and again, watching the wound close each time.

"It's not working," Sophie yelled, aggravated. She began to cry as she heard her mother's voice, "look at you, you can't even fucking kill yourself, you pathetic whore."

Sophie cried harder as she glanced over at her sheets, an idea popping into her head as she pulled them from the bed and began to the knots.

"Sophie," Isaac yelled, banging on the door. "Sophie, open the door," he yelled louder as he tried to barge in. He could hear her arguing with herself and crying as he pushed again the door harshly. "Sophie! Please, I love you, open the door," he yelled desperately, finally breaking the door open.

There Sophie stood on a chair, the sheets wrapped around the fan traveling around her neck and back up. Just as he got through the door, she kicked the chair away, cutting off her breathing and began to gasp for air.

Isaac lunged forward, grabbing her flailing body and lifting her as he took the sheets off her neck with one hand, pulling her down in his lap as she sobbed out. Lydia watched from the doorway as Isaac held her tightly in his lap, not allowing her out of his arms.

"Sophie, baby, come back to me," he mumbled in her ear, kissing her neck gently as her flailing slowed as she became tired.

"I'm pathetic," she whimpered, looking down. "I can't even kill myself," she mumbled as Stiles barged through the doorway toward Sophie.

"Hey Sophie," Stiles barked, burning her with the flare and the haze in her eyes washed over her as she blinked and a sob escaped her lips. She turned in Isaac's arms, hugging him tightly as she cried into his shoulder, mumbling that she seemed so real.

"Thank you," she murmured as she pulled back as hesitantly leaned forward to kiss his lips before falling asleep in his arms, Stiles closing the door behind him to give them privacy.