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"Stiles, please."

They were at the animal clinic. Deaton was doing his best to patch Stiles up, but they all knew he needed Scott to start healing him. He had lost a lot of blood, and was not together. He also had a few broken bones, which needed set. Scott had been begging to let him help, but anytime he got close, Stiles freaked out.

"No. I don't want you to help."

Scott sighed. He, Deaton, and Kira had all taken turns trying to convince him. Scott hoped the others would have some luck.

"Where is he?" Stiles was staring at the ground, his voice just above a whisper.

Scott took a step closer, and stopped. "Your Dad took him to the hospital, and then he'll go to jail, or somewhere."

"And the others?"

Scott looked over at Kira and then back at Stiles. "They ran off remember?"

Stiles shook his head and laughed a little. "No, not exactly in a good state of mind right now."

"That's why you should let me help you, even just a little. It'll clear your head. Please."

Stiles just shook his head, he was holding his side where Renny dug his claws in.

Before Scott could press on, the Sheriff ran in the room and hugged Stiles. The boy was caught off guard for a second before realizing he was in his father's arms. He began to cry, but when the Sheriff squeezed harder, Stiles winced. Stilinski pulled back and got a good look at his son.

"My God, Stiles. You need a hospital."

"He won't let me heal him."

The Sheriff looked at Stiles. "Why? He can help you."

Stiles shook his head again. "It's too much. I can't let him…he can't see…"

John was confused. "See what?"

"Allison." Lydia was staring at the man.

Stiles looked away.

Scott took another step towards him. "Stiles, it's okay. I know you want to protect me, I know you don't want me to have to relive that, but it's not fair that you have to. Whatever you've been through, whatever is in your head, I can take it. I swear. Believe me, seeing you like this is worse than any pain I could feel."

Stiles looked up at him.

"Stiles, let Scott help." Malia grabbed his hand. "Please, I can't stand this."

For once Stiles wanted the voices in his head to tell him what to do. He wanted the pain gone, he wanted to think clearly, but at the same time he did not want Scott to have to go through, even a fraction, of what he went through. Even more than that, was the guilt. Stiles did not deserve to be helped. He deserved the pain. He deserved the punishment for what he did.

"It's my fault."

No one wanted to hear him say it.

"No, Stiles, we've been through this before. You had to, you could not stop it, none of us could stop it."

Stiles looked up at him. "You should have killed me."

Those were Mark's words. Scott knew it. That man messed him up, more than any of them could have imagined. Scott was sick of this, he was going to help his best friend whether he liked it or not. Scott stomped up to Stiles.

"I'm the alpha here, I'm your alpha. You're pack, and if I say I want to help you, then you're going to let me help you." His eyes glowed red as he spoke.

Stiles's eyes met his, and before he could protest, Scott grabbed Stiles' hands. The boy began to pull back, but the others jumped in and held him still. He fought a little, but Stiles had almost no energy. Scott held onto Stiles' hand and let the black veins crawl up his arm. As the pain crept in, Scott yelled in pain. He could not believe how much his best friend had. Just like before, Scott saw flashes of Stiles' mind. He saw Allison, he saw Aiden, but he also saw himself. He saw all of them, lying on the floor covered in blood. All of them dead. Scott gasped and let go.

He was out of breath and needed to sit down. He looked up at Stiles who had stopped struggling. He looked more relaxed than before, and his breathing was evening out.

"I'm sorry."

John pulled his son into another hug, this time more gentle. It did not take long for Stiles to fall asleep. Deaton took that cue to set up everything they needed. He hooked up an IV to Stiles to replenish his hydration, and set his wrist and ribs. The boy flinched a little, but did not wake from the jostling.

Scott sat in a chair trying to catch his breath. Kira put a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

Scott nodded. "Yeah, it's just a lot."

"Remember Scott, taking pain especially in this case, can hurt you too. I know you want to help him, but it must be a slow process." Deaton warned the teen.

"I know, I know. I just need to help him, but I won't take more than I can handle."

Malia was petting Stiles' head. "What about the bite?"

Deaton came over to look at it again. "It stopped bleeding, and the veins around it haven't extended. I think he will be okay, but it's still a bite from an alpha. I think his body is confused by it, it wants to reject it, but also wants to turn him. I believe that is why it caused so much pain, but now that the healing process has begun, he should, in theory, be okay."

"What about Mark?" Lydia turned to the Sheriff.

The man sighed. "For now, he's heavily sedated at the hospital getting treatment for the claw marks he sustained. After that, jail for a very long time."

"He said he would tell everyone you covered up the hospital massacre; that Stiles did it, and you tampered with evidence." Scott was looking at the ground.

John shook his head. "He kidnapped and tortured my son, I don't care what he tries to do, he's going away for a long time."

"I told him we send him to Eichen House."

"That could be arranged." Deaton looked at the Sheriff.

"Look I don't care where this guy goes, as long as he can't try something like this again." John put a hand on his son's arm. "I can't go through this again."

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When Stiles woke up, he thought he had dreamed the night before. He was sure he was back in that cage, with the man watching him; plotting his next round of pain. He began to panic, but a hand on his chest stopped him. Malia was staring down at him.

He grabbed her hand and let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, God, this is real. I'm really here. You're really here."

She nodded holding back tears. "I am. You are. How are you?"

Stiles thought about that for a moment. "Better than yesterday." The whispers had died down, and his body did not ache as much. He was still in pain, but his head was clearing a little.

"Is it really over?"

Malia nodded and squeezed his hand tighter. "Yeah, those wolves are gone, and Mark is under watch at the hospital. We have you back, and you're safe."

Stiles nodded.

"Hey."

Stiles looked up to see Scott in the doorway.

"Hey."

"It's good to hear you talk."

"Without the pinch of insanity? Yeah, my head is in a better place, still not all together, but it's getting there. Thank you."

Scott gave him a half smile. "Will you start letting my help you now?"

Stiles fiddled with his fingers. "I still don't want you to have to take the pain away, Scott. I know I'm not in tip top shape, but taking what you did last night helped more than you can imagine. Let's just take it slow okay?"

Scott nodded. That was progress at least.

"We all thought we'd lose you."

Stiles smiled a little. "I thought so too. I'm still actually not convinced I'm really alive right now."

Malia walked over to the sink and got him some water. "Here, you need to drink this."

Stiles stared at the glass and thought back to when the man forced water down his throat, causing him to get sick. His stomach churned just thinking about it.

"I'm fine."

"Stiles, you aren't fine. The IV is helping, but you need to take care of yourself. You need to eat, you need to keep hydrated." Scott could hear Stiles' heart speed up on the last word.

Stiles shook his head. "I know, I know. I just can't right now, please."

Malia sighed and set the glass of water down. Deaton soon came in to check on him, and said he could go home when he was ready.

Later that day Scott and the Sheriff helped Stiles up the stairs and to his room. Getting taken seemed like so long ago. He stared at his window, but Scott put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay. I'm not going anywhere. No one is going to hurt you."

Stiles nodded and sat down on the bed. He had not felt the comfort of a bed in a long time. He laid back, but did not fall asleep. John insisted he eat, so he went downstairs to make him something.

"I don't like you this quiet." Scott sat on Stiles' desk chair.

"Just have a lot on my mind."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Stiles huffed a little. "Which thing? Getting kidnapped and tortured by that psycho? Getting kidnapped and tortured by wolves? Or the confusing things running through my head right now?"

"Any of them, all of them. You shouldn't keep it all to yourself. I felt glimpses, Stiles, but I can't even begin to imagine what you went through."

"I learned some things about myself, things I think I'm more terrified of than before." Stiles fiddled with his fingers, not making eye contact.

"What do you mean?"

"Ever since all this, I never gave myself time to stop and think about what happened, what really happened. You saw my coping method."

Scott hated that Stiles was hurting himself over anything that had happened.

"I know the Nogitsune is a trickster, so it's hard to figure out what was real, and what wasn't, but there are some things I know and can't understand. He split my body into two, I can't even start to get that, but it makes me wonder how much is really left."

"Stiles it's gone."

"Is it? All of it? Yeah the firefly or whatever is in a box somewhere, but I think it left some type of imprint. Part of it is still in me, and I don't understand any of it. During apogee something was calling me to the Nemeton, it was calling me there, but when the wolves had me down on it, I saw the void me. I keep seeing the void me, and he's been helping. I could feel the Nemeton pulling me, but he was there telling me to get away from it."

Scott was trying to follow. "It could just be your subconscious. You aren't…weren't in the best state of mind, who knows what was happening."

"I know I got strong."

"What?"

Stiles looked up. "It was like before. Scott I fought those wolves, I did well even. And that wasn't the only time. I almost got away from him once, I let it take over and I almost got away."

Scott came over and sat down. "Look, I can't pretend like I understand any of it either, but Stiles it's gone. Okay maybe something is left over, but that doesn't make you a bad person. It does not mean you have to do the things it did. You're alive, and that's all that matters."

"Maybe I shouldn't be."

"Don't say that." Scott warned.

"It's all my fault, Scott. Everything. I have so much blood on my hands, and I can never wash it all off."

"Stiles, look at me." Scott got in his eyesight. "None of this, any of this or before, is your fault. Do you understand me?"

Stiles said nothing. He could not lie to his best friend.

Before Scott could say anything, the Sheriff came back with a bowl of soup.

"I'm not hungry, Dad."

The Sheriff sat the bowl down on his bedside table. "I don't care, you need to eat."

"Stiles when was the last time you ate?" Scott always had a hard time getting Stiles to eat when he was upset.

He shrugged.

"Did he feed you at all?"

"Once. Mostly just let me have water. Just enough to keep me going." Stiles' eyes were lost.

"Even more reason then." Scott wished he could get to him.

"Stiles, you are going to eat whether you like it or not, you understand me?" His father gave a look that sent chills down both boys' spines.

Stiles licked his lips and grabbed the bowl. He was hesitant at first, but after a few bites he could not stop shoveling the soup into his mouth. He had no idea he was hungry at all. After he was finished, he grabbed the glass of water his father brought up and drank it slow, taking deep breathes between.

"Better?" Scott smiled.

Stiles nodded. "Much." He looked at his dad. "Umm, my meds?"

"Oh, right." John left the room and came back with three pill bottles.

Stiles took them and poured out the correct amounts. "Wasn't fun going off these all at once. At least when I was possessed it was just the Adderall."

Scott and the Sheriff looked at each other.

"That was supposed to be a joke." He sighed. "I'll work on that."

Scott smiled again. "The full moon is in about a week and half. You should feel a lot better by then. Might clear your head."

"Yeah, I definitely need my head cleared."

"Are you still seeing or hearing anything?" Scott already knew the answer.

"Not as bad as before, but yeah, there's still some things going on I don't care to acknowledge." Stiles looked at the corner of the room where he saw the man's wife lying on the ground. He still had a long way until he recovered from what happened.

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AN: Thanks for reading!