A/N: Hey guys (and girls), so we've noticed that with the last two chapters the number of reviews has significantly decreased. While we are enormously grateful for any feedback that we receive we just want to make sure that people are still interested in the story and that we aren't going in a direction that people aren't liking. Also, we haven't gotten very many one-shot prompts so we just want to remind everyone that we are taking prompts.

"It's Stiles. He woke up."

"'He woke up?'" Scott repeated, eyes wide. "What? When?" His heart leapt into his throat. He was starting to feel as though Stiles would never wake up.

"Earlier this morning," Melissa said. "I just got the call from the hospital. I know we just talked about how you have to go school and don't think I didn't mean that, but I think you should go to the hospital today. I talked to Stephanie and apparently he wasn't doing too well."

"What happened?" Scott backed away from the doorway into his room. "I mean, is he okay? Did he say anything?"

"I don't know, she couldn't say much," she said, worried. "I think Tori was with him this morning. I'm about to go in now if you want to come with me."

"Yeah. Yes, uh," Scott looked around and picked up the shirt he had dropped. "I should call Allison and Lydia and let them know what's going on."

"Yeah. I'm going to be in the car when you're ready, okay? So make it quick."

"Right," Scott said, pulling his shirt over his head. He grabbed his phone from his cluttered bedside table and called Allison as he put on his shoes.

"Hello?" Scott heard Allison answer on the third ring.

"Allison? Where are you?"'

"Um, in my car? Going to school?" Allison laughed. "Why? Where are you?"

"I'm going to the hospital. Stiles is awake."

"Wait, what?" The brakes of Allison's car screeched over the phone.

"Yeah, my mom just told me," Scott said, taking the stairs two at a time as he headed towards the door.

"Have you left yet? I'm turning around."

"No, not yet, but I'm about to. Just… hurry, okay?"

Sheriff Stilinski rubbed the back of his neck, trying to message the tension out of his sore muscles. He had gotten to the hospital at dawn after yet another restless night. He didn't have to be at the station for another couple of hours, something he was very thankful for. He hated leaving his son, but there was nothing he could do about it. He still had his duty as sheriff, no matter what was going on in his personal life. He was still working on tracking down Stiles' kidnapper and hadn't even had time to think about the animal attacks that were still going on.

"What am I going to do?" he muttered quietly, sliding his hand into his son's. He rubbed small, gentle circles into Stiles' hand with his thumb. Faintly, he thought he felt Stiles' curled finger twitch against his palm.

Stilinski's head snapped up, looking intently into Stiles' face. "Stiles?" He gripped his fingers harder. "Can you hear me?" Stiles twitched his fingers again. His head turned to the side to face Stilinski. "Stiles," the sheriff said anxiously. "It's me, it's your dad. Go on and wake up, bud. I know you can hear me." Stiles jerked his foot and turned his head again, taking a deep breath that rasped through his torn up lungs. "Come on, kid," Stilinski encouraged. "I'm right here. I'm right here with you." Stiles' eyelashes fluttered slowly against his pale skin and the sheriff felt hope rise up in his chest. "Come on. Wake up."

Stiles blinked his eyes open to stare at the bar on his bed. Unlike last time, his eyes were clear and focused.

"Stiles," Stilinski breathed, relief flooding him as he squeezed his son's hand, trying to get his attention.

Stiles' eyes flickered up to meet his father's gaze. In an instant, Stiles' eyes widened in fear and he ripped his hand away from Stilinski's. He bolted upright in his bed, displacing the heart monitor in the process. He cried out in pain as his movement strained his broken ribs, wrapping his arm around his chest.

"Stiles, calm down. It's just me," Stilinski said, putting his hands up.

Stiles flinched back on the bed and screamed. "NO, NO, NO, NO, NO," he squeezed his eyes shut and balled his hands into fists.

Tori came running into the room followed by Dr. Gallagher. "Sir, I'm going to need you to leave," the doctor said, not sparing the sheriff a passing glance. The man's sudden entrance only frightened Stiles more, sending him into further hysterics as he tried to push himself as far away from the stranger as he could. "STAY AWAY FROM ME! JUST GO AWAY!"

Tori wedged herself between Dr. Gallagher and the bed. "You're not helping," Stilinski heard her hiss to the doctor over the sound of Stiles' continued screams. "Stiles? Stiles, it's okay. It's all okay, just look at me. Stiles, look at me now, okay?"

Stiles locked eyes with his nurse. His screams died on his lips, though his breaths were still ragged and desperate. He shot out his hand and latched onto Tori's arm, his fingernails digging into her skin. "That's right," she said soothingly. "Just calm down, alright? Everything's okay." She looked over her shoulder at the two men. "Can you give us a moment, please? No sudden movements." She turned her attention back to Stiles, whose surprisingly strong grip was beginning to bruise her arm.

Scott and Melissa got off the elevator just as Tori left Stiles' hospital room. Even from a distance, Scott could see how tired and haggard the nurse was. Her hair, usually neatly pulled back, was in disarray and her light blue scrubs were rumpled.

"Tori!" Melissa called down the hall, almost jogging to catch up to her, Scott trailing behind her. "What's going on? Is he still awake?"

"Yeah, he is. I got him to calm down without sedating him again," Scott heard Tori answer tiredly before he stopped in front Stiles' door. "He's been too worked up to do any testing yet so far, so hopefully he'll stay settled long enough for us to take new scans. I think he may have done some damage to his ribs, but I'm hoping it isn't too serious."

Scott silently slipped into his friend's room as the two nurses continued talking as they walked down the hall. Stiles was laying with his eyes closed. His face was still too pale and the bandages wrapped around his head still seemed out of place, but the dark circles under his eyes had started to fade and the skin around the cut on his cheek was starting to pucker as it healed. Scott thought that maybe Stiles had fallen asleep again, but he could see his hand clenching and unclenching into a fist, clutching the somewhat ragged blanket.

"Psst, Stiles," Scott hissed as he crept closer to the bed. From what he understood from listening to Tori talk to his mom, Stiles had had some sort of panic attack earlier and Scott didn't want to set him off again. "Are you awake?" Stiles didn't open his eyes, but continued to open and close his fist. "I know you're not asleep, Stiles," Scott took another small step towards his friend. "Would you just look at me?"

Stiles opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, refusing Scott's request. He took deep breathes to calm himself as Scott moved to the chair next to his hospital bed, but Scott could see his pulse rate rise on the screen beside him as he approached. "Are you doing okay?" Scott pulled his chair closer to the side of the bed. "My mom said one of the nurses called her this morning and said that you were awake but weren't doing too good." Stiles angled his head so that Scott was out of his line of sight.

Scott was starting to get annoyed. He couldn't imagine going through anything like what Stiles had experienced in the past week and knew his friend was likely to be sensitive for the next couple of days, but he couldn't help be feel irritated at his best friend. If it hadn't been for him, Stiles could have died in that tiny garage, chained to a chair all by himself. Scott had been the one to find him. The one who obsessed over figuring out where he was and who had taken him and why. He hadn't properly slept in nearly a week because of worrying about him. The least Stiles could do was look at him.

"Hey, would you just look at me, man?" Scott reached out to put his hand on Stiles' shoulder. Stiles brought his arm up, his fingers spread taut, effectively blocking Scott's attempt to comfort him.

"Don't," he said, his voice gravelly, still not looking at Scott. He laid his arm back down, choosing to cross it over his chest to move it as far away from his friend as possible.

"You do realize I found you, right?" Scott demanded. "It was me. Not your dad, not the police, not Derek. Me. I have done nothing but worry about you since you went missing and if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't even be here right now." He found himself somehow on his feet, though he had no memory of standing. "Even after I found you, I've barely left your side since you've been in here. Your dad comes and goes like it's nothing, but I've stayed. So it seems like the least you could do is freaking look at me!"

Stiles' heart must have been pounding in his chest if the beeping of heart monitor was correct. However, his face remained lax. Slowly, he let his eyes slip closed and he turned his head completely away from his friend, shutting him out.

Scott stood over him, his chest heaving as he tried to control his anger. He heard the door creak open behind him, the hinges whining slightly. Melissa grabbed her son by the back of his shirt collar and pulled him out the door into the hall.

"Mom! What -" he began, still angry, but Melissa cut him off.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded quietly, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"He won't even look at me!"

"Well, of course he won't, Scott!" Melissa said, exasperated and angry. "It's amazing he didn't start screaming as soon as he saw you. Stilinski was in the room with him when he woke up for the first time and he panicked. It was like he didn't recognize him at all. He almost fell out of the bed when the doctor tried to help him, he was so scared. Tori has been trying to keep him calm so she can schedule him for some new tests. He probably wasn't looking at you because he didn't want to have another panic attack in front of you and you're in there provoking him!"

Scott stood with his mouth slightly open as realization washed over him. "Oh. Oh, God, I messed up, didn't I?"

"Pretty much."

"You do know I have a car, right?" Lydia asked as she slid into the passenger seat of Allison's car. "Why is it you're always driving us around? Are you practicing for when you're a soccer mom?"

"Shut up," Allison rolled her eyes and smiled. "I'm still shocked you're willing to skip school for this." Allison had made a U-turn and made a call to Lydia immediately after getting off the phone with Scott. She was only expecting Lydia to want to come visit after school, so she was surprised when Lydia told her that she was skipping school and going to the hospital.

"It's not like I'm not already ahead in every class anyway," Lydia pulled down the sun visor mirror to admire herself for a moment before looking at her friend. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Aren't you going to get in trouble for skipping school? Your grandfather is the principal. I'm pretty sure he's going to notice if you don't show up. Don't you have some super-secret spy work to do?"

"I'll explain the situation to Gerard tonight if he asks. He knows I'm friends with Stiles. Even if he does know something about who Stiles' kidnapper was, he can't say anything about it without tipping me and my dad off." Allison stopped at a light, jiggling her leg impatiently. "Besides, if Stiles is awake now, maybe he can tell us who it was and I won't have to spy on Gerard anymore."

"Do you really think he'll be up to talking about that yet?" Lydia asked skeptically. "He only woke up a few hours ago."

"True," Allison nodded her head to the side. "But the longer we wait, the more likely it is that the kidnapper gets away. It's already been two whole days since we found Stiles. I know it may seem callous, but I don't think we can wait much longer to find this guy."

"I guess you're right," Lydia sighed. "It still seems too soon. Although, and I'll deny it you repeat this, I'm starting to miss him."

"Him who?"

"Stiles, obviously."

Allison smirked. "I thought you didn't like him."

"I never said that. Did I? Anyway, I'm not saying that I like him, I just miss being able to talk to him about how stupid you and Scott are around each other."

Brett fiddled with his car stereo as he waited. There was a song he couldn't get out of his head, but he couldn't seem to find it on any radio station. Giving up, he reclined his seat slightly, stretching out his legs. No matter how he moved, he couldn't find a comfortable position. What he really wanted to do was to take a shower. He'd been living out of his car ever since the police had taken Stiles from the storage unit, surviving on drive-thru dollar menus and overpriced take-out coffee. He'd spent his nights in various parking lots, sleeping in his car and avoiding other people as much as possible. He was expecting yet another call from the boss. Brett's phone had been silent for a couple of days now as he awaited further instruction, leaving the hunter feeling nervous, a state to which he was not normally accustomed.

He often found himself hanging around the hospital parking lot. Part of him wanted to go in and see Stiles, but his logical side knew that was a bad idea. It was amazing he hadn't been caught yet, and he knew he was testing fate by staying so close to him. So far, he had managed to restrain himself, content to stay outside the main entrance, watching the comings and goings of Stiles' friends and family.

He sat up as he heard a car screech into the parking lot a few spaces away. Seeing who it was, he sank back down in his seat. Stiles' pretty little friends ran past his car, never looking away from their destination at the front of the hospital. He sat back up once they'd passed. Something must be going on for them to be moving that fast, especially in heels.

Not five minutes went by before his phone started to ring.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" came the curt answer from the phone, his boss skipping all pleasantries.

"Outside the hospital, like you asked. Why? What's going on?"

"The Stilinski kid woke up. Your job has changed."

"Changed?" Brett echoed.

"He's seen your face!" Brett's boss's voice sounded shrill through the speaker. "The police are still looking for you and Scott McCall has gotten Derek Hale involved with the search. Now that the boy is awake, how long do think it will take for him to ID you? If you had worn the mask during every interaction, we wouldn't be in this predicament."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to fix your mistake, Brett. I've put up with your attitude and your quirks because of your talent, but you've made a grave error. You leave me no choice. It's time to finish the job."

"'Finish the job?' Stiles isn't a job, he's a person! He's sixteen years old, he's still a child! He's never hurt anyone, and you expect me to what? To kill him? What about the code?!" Brett heard only dead air on the other side of the phone.

"Finish the job, Brett. Or I will." The line clicked dead.

Lydia charged down the hallway towards Scott, who was sitting on the bench outside Stiles' room, looking utterly distraught. Allison was close behind her, not as confident in her heels as her friend.

"What's going on?" Lydia demanded. Scott looked up slowly from the floor to meet the redhead's fierce gaze. She opened the door to Stiles' room, not waiting for Scott to answer.

The room was empty. The bed and its occupant were gone. "Where is he?"

Scott stayed silent on the bench.

"Oh, God," Allison covered her mouth, looking horrorstruck. "He's - he's not…"

"What?" Scott asked, staring at her in confusion. "Oh. Oh, no! No, no, no, nothing like that! He's getting another MRI right now. He's not, you know…"

"Oh, thank God," Lydia sank down on the bench next to Scott.

"So, he's okay?" Allison clarified.

"Yeah. No. I don't know."

"Well, what is that supposed to mean?" Lydia crossed her arms impatiently.

"I don't know!" Scott exclaimed. "He wouldn't look at me at all when I went in there to talk to him. My mom said he was trying to keep from having a panic attack because apparently just looking at me would set him off. And of course I just made it worse. I got mad at him when all he was doing was trying to protect himself."

"You kids alright?" the sheriff asked, coming up behind them and resting his hand on Lydia's shoulder.

"Yeah, we're fine," Allison answered. "How's Stiles?"

"He's doing okay, I guess," Stilinski said uncertainly. "I went with him down to radiology, but he wouldn't look at me or say anything."

"What's wrong with him?" Allison asked.

"He's suffering from PTSD, isn't he?" Lydia chimed in.

The sheriff's eyebrows went up. "Yeah, he does. Or, at least Melissa seems to think he does. How did you know?"

"Stiles was having nightmares while he was still in the coma, wasn't he? Scott said he wouldn't look at him earlier, so maybe Scott reminded him of the kidnapper. Nightmares and avoiding the situation are both common symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder."

"Yeah, he was afraid of me earlier, too," the sheriff said. "Like, really afraid. I've never seen him like that. He was scared of the doctor, too."

"That makes sense," Lydia took a seat on the bench on the other side of Scott. "Men must freak him out right now."

"Great," Stilinski muttered. "That's just great."

The three teenagers looked at him in confusion.

"I need to talk to him," he explained. "He's the only one who can ID his kidnapper. We're running out of time with that case already and if the only apparent witness can't even talk to his own father let alone about what's he's been through, we're at a dead end."

"Don't you have any female police officers?" Allison asked.

"It's completely sexist if you don't," Lydia added, scowling at Stilinski.

"We do, of course," the sheriff said defensively, "but every spare officer is working on that animal attack case. I guess I can pull one of them off to help with this, but…" he trailed off. "I want to talk to him myself. I haven't been able to talk to him in a week. I need to know how he's doing. I'm tired of hearing from the doctors and nurses here, not that they're not doing a good job," he added, glancing at Scott. "But, I miss talking to him."

"Yeah, me too," Scott muttered.

Melissa met the group still in the hallway three hours later. Scott had moved off the bench onto the floor so that the girls and the sheriff could have the bench. Allison was running her fingers absentmindedly through his hair.

"How is he?" Stilinski asked, his knees cracking as he stood. "How did his scans go?"

"He's doing fine," Melissa held out her hand to help Scott get to his feet. "His tests are still being looked at by Dr. Gallagher, but I saw them and they looked alright. He still has some swelling in his brain, but it's gone down significantly since he first got here, so it shouldn't be something to worry too much about. He's no longer in critical condition now that he's out of the coma, so we moved him to pediatrics on the seventh floor, if you want to go see him."

The group moved to the elevators, but the sheriff still looked wary. He couldn't forget the look of terror Stiles had had when he saw him only a few hours ago. "Will he see me?" he asked Melissa quietly.

She shrugged her shoulders but smiled encouragingly. "All you can do is try."

The elevator ride seemed to take forever though it only lasted a few seconds. As much as Stilinski wanted to see his son, he was still scared. He had never once thought that his son would be afraid of him, no matter the circumstances. He was still afraid of how Stiles would react. Getting off the elevator, he was reminded of how young Stiles still was. The walls of the pediatric ward were a soft sky blue, painted with bright red and yellow balloons and zoo animals. Parents ducked in and out of their children's rooms, toys and balloons in hand. This isn't right, Stilinski thought. Stiles is too old for this place.

"Okay," Melissa said once they were outside Stiles' new room. "He's been pretty calm for the last couple of hours, and I would like to keep it that way. So, no sudden movements, no loud noises. You need to be careful with him. Don't let him get upset."

"Let me go in first," Stilinski said as Scott moved towards the door. "I need to make sure he's okay."

Scott nodded and moved out of the way.

The sheriff took a breath before going in. Stiles was facing the door with his eyes closed, apparently asleep. He no longer had an IV or heart monitor, those being left down in the ICU. Instead, he only had a cannula running under his nose.

"Hey, kiddo," Stilinski called softly, closing the door behind him. Stiles opened his eyes slowly to look at his father. The sheriff braced himself for the worse, but Stiles remained calm. "How are you doing, son? You feeling any better?" Stiles gave a noncommittal shrug but kept his mouth closed. "You're acting like you feel better at least," Stilinski continued. "That's good. I know you must want to get out of here, I need you to focus on getting better before we do anything else, okay?"

Stiles continued to stare silently at his dad, but Stilinski felt the question in his son's eyes.

"I mean it," he pressed seriously. "I don't want you to worry right now. Me included. Or, anything else. Deal?"

Stiles' eyes widened as he understood what his dad was inferring. Brett was still out there somewhere. They hadn't caught him yet. Stiles took a deep breath and forced himself to stay calm.

Despite his son's efforts, Stilinski saw his hand clench around his blanket, his knuckles turning white with the effort. "It's okay," he soothed. "I'm handling it. I promise, it's all going to be fine, I promise." His son's hand stayed clenched.

Stiles' silence was beginning to unnerve him. "Please, would you just say something to me? You know I hate the silent treatment." He reached his hand out towards his son's arm, but Stiles pulled away from him.

"Please," Stiles' voice cracked from disuse. "Don't."

"Alright, alright," the sheriff took his hand back, folding it awkwardly in his lap. "I'm sorry."

Stiles closed his eyes again, obviously trying to shut his father out. "Okay, that's good," Stilinski said, standing up and moving slowly back towards the door. "Get some rest. I'll be around if you need me." He reached out to squeeze his son's foot on his way out, but thought better of it and left without another word.

"So?" Scott asked as soon as came back into the hallway. The trio were pressed close to the door, as though they'd been eavesdropping. "How was he?"

"Quiet," Stilinski answered honestly. "I'm sorry, Scott, but I don't think he's ready to be around guys yet."

Scott nodded, looking crestfallen.

"Couldn't he at least go in for a little bit?" Allison asked. "He's calmer now, right? He may not react so badly to him this time. I mean, he was better with you, right?"

The sheriff considered it for a moment. Stiles was so fragile right now, he didn't want to risk doing more damage. However, if he was going to get him to open up about what happened to him while he was being held and who did this to him, he had to feel comfortable and safe. He had to get used to other people again.

"Fine," he relented. "But one of you girls needs to go in first. He may be more comfortable around you than Scott at the moment. I don't want to overwhelm him with too many people."

"I'll go," Lydia brushed by the sheriff. "He should be used to me by now; I sat with him so much."

Stilinski felt the sting of her comment, but held his tongue as she went into the room.

"Hey Stiles," Lydia greeted in her normal fashion, making no extra effort to be quiet. She took her place in the sheriff's recently vacated chair. Stiles kept his eyes closed.

"I know you're not asleep," Lydia kicked the side of the bed gently. "I've been watching you sleep for days, remember? I can tell the difference."

Stiles opened his eyes to look at her quizzically. "You been here for days?" he managed to croak.

"What, you don't remember that? I'm insulted. I wouldn't have wasted my breath if I had known you weren't going to listen."

"Maybe you weren't talking loud enough," Stiles teased.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Please. We were in a hospital, it's not like I could have shouted at you."

"I honestly wouldn't be surprised if you did," Stiles smiled. He couldn't believe she was here, that she had been there with him. Since when did the Lydia Martin care about him?

"So," Lydia said, changing the subject. "How are you doing really? And don't lie. I know you went all spastic on your dad earlier today."

"I don't know," Stiles mumbled. "I feel like I've been tackled by your boyfriend nonstop for a week. And not in a good way."

"Ex-boyfriend," Lydia corrected automatically.

"Right."

"Anything else?"

Stiles opened his mouth to answer, but thought better of it and closed it again. There was so much else. Brett hadn't been caught yet. Though his dad had made it sound as though everything was under control, he could tell that he was worried. He knew that his dad wanted him to tell him everything that had happened, everything he knew about Brett. But he wasn't ready. He didn't know if he would ever be ready. His dad had said that Stiles must be anxious to get out of the hospital, but he found the very opposite to be true. He felt safe in the hospital. There were doctors and nurses and patients all around all the time. Brett couldn't get him in here, with all these people.

He shook his head. "No." This was not something he could talk about with Lydia.

"Uh huh," Lydia sounded convinced, but didn't push him any further. "Scott and Allison are here. Are you okay with them coming in?"

Stiles' heart jumped into his throat for a moment. He'd pissed Scott off to the point that his friend had yelled at him. He and Scott never fought or yelled at each other. The thought of having an angry, potentially wolfed-out Scott in the room with him was terrifying, and yet, Scott was the only person he could talk to about what had happened with Brett. He wouldn't overreact like his dad would.

"Scott," he told Lydia. "Just Scott."

A/N: Again, we apologize for the delay with this chapter, life just tends to get in the way sometimes. As always, please leave any feedback if you like it or have any constructive criticism. We really do appreciate those that continue to read and follow this story as we near the end. Just a heads up, there are only two chapters left with a potential epilogue. Also, if you're interested go and check out our new one-shot series The Continuous Adventures of Scoot and Stiles. This will be our next major focus after we finish In Exchange. Thanks!