SUCCUMB
CHAPTER V - STILES
Beacon Hills Preserve serves as an all-around venue for all sorts of stuff. For the athletic and outdoors-y people, the preserve can be used as this rigorous training ground or this amazing nature trail or maybe a retreat for those who wants to spend a night camping under the stars. Another use is that it could be a ideal location to gather data for a descriptive college thesis. The preserve is also a home to numerous harmless and downright dangerous animals all the while serving as a seasonal hunting grounds for those traditional hunters, much unlike the Argents. And lastly, the preserve is a crime scene.
Or will be, Stiles thought grimly to himself when his best friend, if he could still call Scott that, and Isaac disappeared behind the thick trees of the forest.
Stiles didn't exactly know what it was that made the bushes rustle. At first, he tried to think positively, that maybe it was a little and peaceful woodland critter that would have done him and his friends absolutely no harm whatsoever. But when Scott and Isaac burst running to the other side of the small clearing they were in, all the optimism he had in mind flew out of the window, especially when they heard Isaac yell out Scott's name.
Looking around, his eyes fixing on the space between two trees where Scott and Isaac disappeared into, Stiles noticed that someone was glaring at him and when he turned to see that it was Lydia, he was kind of disappointed that it wasn't the murderous animal at large that was staring down at him. "Aren't you going to run after them?" Lydia asked sharply.
At first, Stiles was frozen on the spot he was standing on, his legs refusing to budge or move an inch despite his mind telling him to go after his best friend and find out if he's safe. But memories of his nightmares would come up and rewind themselves, reminding Stiles why he's been avoiding his best friend. "What? Me?" Stiles pointed to himself with his aluminum baseball bat as Allison aimlessly pointed her crossbow at random objects that moved because the wind was blowing there.
Lydia's eyes narrowed at him. "Yes, you, you whiskey-eyed imbecile!" she hissed before she pointed to the spot where Scott and Isaac disappeared into the forest.
Stiles gaped, his expression incredulous. He couldn't believe her at that moment. "If you haven't noticed, those two are werewolves and are armed with super sharp claws and scary fangs, not to mention they have super healing!" Stiles pointed to himself while Allison made this whoosh sound when she fired an arrow, only to land at a branch of a perfectly harmless tree. "I'm a human—no healing powers—and I'm armed with a baseball bat, no less." Looking at Lydia, Stiles spoke up without thinking. "Besides, aren't you supernatural? Why won't you go after them?" Stiles regret the words as soon as it left his mouth.
"Have you forgotten that I'm a banshee? A harbinger of death, Stiles Stilinski?" it was scary as fuck to Stiles knowing that the past few bodies they've found was initially discovered by Lydia. And he's sure as hell that it was no coincidence especially when Scott would wake him up with a call in 3 AM to say that she screamed.
Stiles groaned, shaking his head, his arm extending out to reach her, apologize when Lydia avoided his hand, obviously angry with him. "Lydia," he said softly when she made her way the clearing. "Stop, no, please. I wasn't thinking, I didn't mean it," Stiles didn't really want to have Scott near her, not when he's out in a snappy, borderline murderous rage in the forest.
Running after Lydia, who unsurprisingly didn't care about her designer heels anymore and was way ahead of her, Stiles grabbed her arm when an arrow whooshed pass by them, causing for the both of them to lose balance and tumble down the slope they were climbing earlier. Moving his arm, Stiles heard a twig snap violently in half and while he hoped it wasn't his or Lydia's bones, he was sure that it wasn't related to their bodies and it freaked them out.
Slowly sitting up, Stiles realized that they had landed at another foot of a slope, quite far away from where Allison was when something violently snapped again, causing Lydia to jump in his arms. "What was that?" she asked, her voice showing how scared he was when he heard it—two metal parts creaking before roughly snapping into each other like an asteroid colliding with a comet running at the same speed as it was.
Stiles gulped his fingers brushed against something cold and metal. Picking it up, Stiles saw that it was a bullet and realized that he and Lydia managed to the parts of the Beacon Hills Preserve where some of the animals were legally hunted down because most of the creatures there were invasive.
"A bear trap. Apparently, of all the places we could land in, we chose the hunting grounds," Stiles muttered under his breath, carefully standing up and looking at the somewhat steep slope beside him. "We have to get out of here," he said as calm as possible, squinting at the field before him trying to figure out what was a good spot to step on and what the hell wasn't.
"Take out your phone," Lydia said, her eyes fixed on something in front of them. Stiles did as he was told, sending a text message to Allison as fast as he possibly could when his eyes glanced at whatever it was that caught Lydia's attention—it was a coyote, whose snout was covered in blood, and eyes were ice blue. While Stiles was no expert, he's sure that coyotes' eyes weren't supposed to change colors so naturally, he came up with one conclusion: werecoyote.
The coyote in front of them bared its teeth at them and, instinctively, Stiles took a step back, mirroring Lydia's actions when dust and small pieces of rocks started raining from above them. Shielding his eyes, Stiles heard an arrow go whoosh as Allison fired at the coyote. He sighed in relief until the arrow hit the ground, enraging the coyote even more. "Not the best result for an excellent marksman," Stiles called out while Lydia just looked at the coyote circling at them.
"Well, my hand hasn't been steady for quite some time now," Allison called back, annoyed while Lydia sighed beside him.
Lydia muttered under her breath. "She's had a tough week." Stiles scoffed.
"That's not really an excuse for her to use you as a moving target!" Lydia shook her head when some rocks and pebbles rained down on him from above. Stiles glared at the spot where Allison was.
An arrow flew from above. "I heard that!" Allison yelled, moving to another place probably to get a better shot, disappearing all of a sudden.
The coyote probably focused on Allison because when Stiles looked around, the animal was gone. "Ahh, perhaps it's going to commit murder somewhere else," Stiles said wistfully but Lydia glared at him before she gulped. "Why? What's wrong?" there was a horrible gut feeling with him and when Stiles looked down, he saw Lydia's foot pressed on the pressure plate of a bear trap, its jaws climbing whenever she moved her foot a bit.
Lydia tried her best to remain calm even when the coyote made an unsurprising reappearance. Stiles was starting to hate the coyote, partly because it could possibly kill him and mostly because it's kind of reminding him of a character who made everyone believe that he or she's not going to be a problem anymore only to make a comeback a few episodes later. "Allison, are you there?" all they heard in reply was the name Kate being repeated over and over again.
Looking around, Lydia pointed at a dimly lit rock platform. "What? What's that?" Stiles asked Lydia, who was still sweating bullets.
Lydia visibly gulped beside him. "See that? That's our way out but we won't be alive to get there if I have a bleeding leg because one, I'll be dead weight and second—" Stiles cut Lydia off, knowing well what the scent of blood makes to animals and what it means to predators.
"You'll smell like prey." Stiles finished grimly before Lydia nodded.
"So that's why I need you to find that instruction written inside the metal jaws and disable the trap, got it?" Stiles paled at her demand, remembering every single event of the day. He shook his head and Lydia nodded, understanding what was wrong with him. The look of horror on her face made Stiles even more terrified.
"You can tell if you're dreaming if you can't read but then again, you're having trouble figuring out what's a dream and what isn't," Lydia muttered to herself. "You're having trouble reading, aren't you?" she connected the dots and Stiles kept staring at the jumbled words of the inscription carved inside the metal jaws, trying to reassemble the letters but they kept moving around. Eventually, Stiles looked at Lydia and met her pained expression.
Stiles shook his head and stared back at the bear trap. "I can't read a thing." He admitted, Allison above them just kept shooting arrows that made the coyote inch forward, growling and baring its teeth every once in a few seconds, scaring the living lights out of Stiles whenever it would move closer towards them. Stiles kept thinking that it would pounce at them soon and aim for their necks.
Another arrow whooshed and a whimper came from above. "Allison!" Lydia called out, unknowingly moving her foot and making the jaws of the bear trap jerk upwards by a few inches. "Allison, I need you to stop wasting your arrows, okay?" there was no reply, only an arrow flying to hit the trunk of a tree quite far away from the coyote and another one hitting the ground. Lydia groaned in frustration and gave him a look. "Keep on concentrating," Lydia said sternly.
"I keep seeing her, Lydia, she's everywhere!" Allison yelled from above them, a random arrow landing near Stiles. "I can't focus!" she panted from above and Stiles wondered what it was like to see visions of a dead relative. A part of Stiles wanted to know what he would be like if he started seeing his dead mother out of the blue.
Lydia sighed as Stiles kept trying to read the inscription on how to deactivate the bear trap. "Breathe in deep, Allison. You need to stop angering the coyote and focus more on scaring it away!" Lydia yelled out as the coyote took another step forwards, growling ever so loudly at them.
An arrow flew but it was far away from the coyote, who only grew more angered. "I can't. I'm trying but I can't!" she cried out when Lydia shut her eyes, trying to concentrate when he saw that look on her face. He remembered that look on her the first time he saw it. Stiles remembered third grade when she couldn't get the answer right and spent almost the whole math time trying to answer a single question when she tried long division instead.
Stiles knew it when Lydia's eyes flew open. She was changing tactics. "Allison!" Lydia yelled out, catching her best friend's attention as a word managed to form for Stiles. "What's your code?" there was silence from above. "What's your new code?" there was no reply at first but then a wave of arrows started hitting the ground close to the coyote, earning a growl from the animal who soon then backed away, a small victory cry was heard from above.
Stiles could see Allison giving out a small laugh from above, almost hearing the same laugh that made Scott fall in love for the first time. "I did it!" Lydia almost cried when she laughed, happy for her best friend. "I'm, coming down," rocks and pebbles came tumbling down and Stiles paled at the thought of Allison landing on one of the bear traps. Remembering the small path Lydia pointed out, Stiles yelled out and flashed his phones towards the rock platforms a few meters away from them.
Stiles could feel the weird glances Allison was giving him. "The ground here, it's literally covered with bear traps!" immediately, the rocks and pebbles and dust clouds from above ceased. "There's a platform that could lead you down, it's a few meters away, at five o'clock," Stiles yelled, warning Allison and feeling a heavy feeling from his chest grow lighter.
He and Allison have been at odds ever since they've met, actually. Stiles always thought of Allison as the girl who stole his best friend away from him, the girl whose family beat him up in their basement. But Stiles warned her because she realized that she was Scott's girlfriend, the woman who gave his best friend such joy and kept his humanity in check and the wolf within him at bay. Stiles realized that it was her family, her grandfather who beat him up, not her.
"Thanks," she muttered before a few rustlings were heard. Soon, Allison was nowhere to be found and Lydia still had her foot pressed against the pressure plate and Stiles literally could see the exhaustion in her eyes.
Lydia groaned at the sight of him hopelessly staring at the inscription. "Time for your epiphany, I suppose?" Lydia asked, desperate as she listed down some ways to make him focused but there was nothing and Stiles still felt like he couldn't read. There was this sinking gut feeling that he couldn't help Lydia when a rock hit him from above.
Suddenly, the world went black and he was transported near the river bank of the preserve.
He looked around, trying to see the bear trap and began wondering why the hell Lydia suddenly disappeared from his side when he was violently thrown into the air only to land terribly rough into the solid ground. Stiles coughed, his back aching from being tossed around like a limp doll. "Scott," he called out for his best friend instinctively, wanting his best friend and brother to come and help him.
A few moments later, Stiles sighed in relief when red eyes glowed in the dark. He doesn't know much alphas around town and the ones that do come at him tend to want to kill him on the spot for either his sarcasm or his usual level of annoying.
So, when Stiles saw the two black bands and the properly tanned skin that belonged to his best friend, he laughed. He was going to be saved. "God, I thought you would have never found me," Scott helped him up to his feet, unusually quiet and not himself in general. Stiles wanted to ask why and what happened to him when he got a good look at his best friend's eyes and realized that the man helping him wasn't Scott at all.
Stopping dead in his tracks, the Scott dopplegänger gave him an evil smirk before tossing him into the air, his back now against the trunk of a tree. Remembering being initially thrown into the air, Stiles realized that it was probably Scott who gave him a little seismic toss earlier as fear started to pool in his mind. "Don't kill me, please," he begged, though a part of Stiles wanted to have it all end. Maybe, Stiles thought to himself, death will be peaceful.
On the ground, Stiles crawled away from his best friend. He tried running away but it was no use, Scott easily walked up to him, picked him up, only to slam him hard against a rock platform, effectively breaking a bone or two. His pain reminded him of his dreams, of the nightmares that he'd literally have to scream himself awake from.
Stiles yelled out in pain, groaning afterwards as Scott gave him a sucker punch to the gut. Stiles saw the oxygen escape his lips when he realized that he couldn't breathe, not when Scott had his fingers around his neck, especially not when his best friend has a super strong grip that is chocking him to death—
Stiles bit down a yell as his head began to feel heavy and he felt dizzy. "Scott," he said weakly, trying one last resort to try and free him from dying from suffocation at the hands of his best friend. Stiles remembered what Kira told them earlier during lunch before they decided to skip school entirely: demons can visit them. Stiles had this waning in and out of consciousness but his determination was renewed to not only save himself but also to save Scott.
Stiles needs to find a way to make the demons un-visit Scott.
Stiles may not be Allison who can drastically affect his heartbeat or Isaac who makes him want to be a leader but he's Stiles, the best friend he's known for almost his entire life. Stiles gritted his teeth as he searched for any sign of his best friend as he looked at the Scott dopplegänger's eyes. It was actually a terrifying sight to see red irises surrounded by black sclera, but Stiles forced himself to man up and face Scott with a brave face.
Stiles knew what he was doing a few weeks ago. He was scared of Scott so he avoided him but what he didn't realize was that he kept pushing the man away. Stiles knew his best friend—his brother—and he knew that Scott would never lay a finger on him, he wouldn't dare touch a strand of his hair if he knew that would hurt him. Scott would never hurt him, not willingly but he still avoided him because he was afraid of who he is, of what he is, and of what he's going through.
Was. Stiles wasn't afraid anymore.
Stiles felt something hot and sticky run down his neck and realized that it was actually his blood because the dopplegänger was drawing blood. Despite wanting to scream and yell out in pain, Stiles did no such thing. He really wanted to beg his friend to stop but he said nothing. "Scott," his voice was raspy and weak. "You're not you. You don't want to do this. You're not a monster, Scott, you're a predator but you're not a monster." Realizing that he was still alive, Stiles figured out the difference between this vision and his nightmares.
He'd end up dead at this part, his throat ripped out by Scott's teeth.
"You're my brother, Scott, and we don't do this to one another," slowly, the darkness in Scott's eyes faded away. "You're a predator, Scott, not a monster. You're just an alpha with performance issues but you've got a good heart and you won't kill, you help people live their lives without the threat of danger. You protect them, Scott, you save lives," and just like that, Stiles was transported back to the spot where he and Lydia was, Allison rushing towards them in the distance.
Finally able to breathe without having someone choke him to death, Stiles finally read the instruction and twisted the handle on a lever. Soon, he heard a small creaking sound with gears clicking in place. Looking above him, Stiles' met Lydia's gaze when she slowly lifted her foot off the pressure plate. The metal jaws, thankfully, stayed in place before he kicked it away, making sure that it wouldn't get to any of them.
Beside him, Lydia cracked a smile and kissed him on the cheek, his world suddenly frozen. "This is for saving my life," Allison looked away, pretending to be on guard but Stiles knew that she was trying to give them privacy. "Thank you, Stiles," it was a small peck on the lips but Stiles felt like it could go on for an eternity in his mind.
Lydia Martin kissed him, and it wasn't because he was having a panic attack.
Allison coughed, clearing her throat. "We have to get back to the car wreck, maybe Scott and Isaac are already there," Stiles nodded, brushing off the dirt from his pants and helped Lydia up. Stiles wanted to see his best friend and he wanted to apologize for being a crappy brother for the past few weeks. He avoided him even knowing that Scott needed him but Stiles would set things right now.
Lydia took a step but lost her balance. Stiles caught her right away, steadying her with his arm. "Woah, steady there. I've got you," Lydia smiled before nodding at Allison who gave them a small smile. "We're good," Stiles smiled and slowly made his way on top of the slope. After a few minutes of walking, he spotted the dusty metal of the car when he saw a small detail.
Helping Lydia get closer to the wreck, Stiles trailed his fingers at the door, which was slashed. Looking at Lydia, Stiles knew that she was thinking the same thing he was thinking of. "These should be closer together if it were from an animal," Stiles nodded, taking his phone from his pocket and texting his father. His Dad was right, the whole Malia Tate disaster some years ago was because of the supernatural and now they have a murderous were on the loose.
Putting his phone back, Allison's phone rang and soon, they were making their ways towards the spot where they left their rides. They waited for Scott and Isaac there, the latter sounding super angry on the phone. After a few moments, Isaac appeared with Scott's arms slung over the beta's shoulders. Stiles immediately ran up to Scott, who Isaac was helping so that he could stand on his own.
Scott looked like absolute shit. He was soaking wet, probably drenched to the bone, and cuts were visible from where Stiles stood. "Did we find Lydia's phone?" was Scott's question before his best friend fainted, slumping over to a side but Isaac caught him pretty quickly and carried his best friend all the way towards the back seat of his Jeep, not caring for the seats.
Once Scott was inside Stiles' Jeep, Isaac glared at him. "Where the hell were you?" Isaac barked at him, earning a glare from both Lydia and Allison. "I've been calling on your cell asking for your help with Scott," Isaac explained everything that happened and the first thing Stiles wanted to do was to drive his friend home. "And that's exactly what you're going to do," at first, Stiles was confused until he remembered that werewolves could read chemo-signals and that was practically one step away from mind-reading. "And after that, you're going to stay away from him," Isaac finished calmly.
"What? No way!" Stiles wasn't going to do that. That was his brother and best friend and he was not going to repeat his mistakes.
Allison stepped forward to protest on his behalf. "Isaac, that's out of line," she began but was immediately cut off.
Isaac turned calmly to Allison. "The both of you. The both of you should avoid Scott. You've been all avoiding him, after all, and Stiles, I don't hate you for doing what you did." There was this sense of being sorry that Stiles could pick up from Isaac. But the disappointed look on his face told Stiles everything he needed to know: Isaac never really did approve of him avoiding Scott. Stiles' had this heavy feeling in his stomach because he knew that Isaac was right.
He shouldn't have avoided Scott like the man had the plague. What if he needed you, a panicked thought ran in his mind thinking back to the three weeks Scott constantly tried to force a meeting with him but he just shut away his best friend. A part of him thought that maybe his forcing a meeting with him was Scott trying to him to listen or to help. Some best friend you are, Stiles scoffed in his mind, reprimanding himself for being a crappy friend.
Isaac cleared his throat, drawing Stiles back to reality. "But right now, I have to look after Scott because he's been doing worse than ever and while I'm sure you all want to help him in your own little ways," Isaac looked at Allison, who was by his side. "I'm not letting any of you do that because you can't help him when you can't help yourselves so do everyone a favor and stay the hell away from each other." Stiles understood where Isaac was coming from—he's the beta and he wants to protect his alpha.
Stiles wanted to argue but when he saw the resigned expression on Allison's face, he just gave up, too, and went to Lydia's side. Stiles drove his friends home, Melissa waiting for them by the driveway. The sad smile she gave him, the way she just nodded her head when she helped Isaac carry her son, it almost killed him. He made a sigh that sounded like something in his rib cage broke in half.
Melissa knew about him avoiding Scott. And she just smiled at him like it was okay. It wasn't.
Stiles, that night, went to bed and fell asleep for the first time since coming back from the dead wishing that he would have his nightmares, that he would yell and scream himself awake, anything to ease the heavy feeling he felt in his chest because he felt like he had to do something, feel something or at least pay for what he did. Stiles, for the first time in three weeks, actually slept without a hitch and woke up like anyone would—to an alarm clock and not to himself as he fights off the restraining arms of his father.
The rest of that morning was quite blurry. He had no missing notebooks or textbooks, all of his stuff were neatly packed inside his bag and a small excuse letter was signed and folded inside a pocket of his backpack. There was not a single incident with orange juice or toasts, and everything was generally okay except it wasn't because there was this sinking feeling in Stiles' stomach that gave him a really bad feeling.
His Dad was reading the morning paper, sipping on his big mug, smiling at him. "Someone had a good night's sleep," it had been almost a routine for his Dad to check up on him and for him to lie almost every morning about being fine but it finally broke when he actually said that he was fine and mean it. But then again, he was okay physically—or at least he was on his way—but mentally and emotionally, the thought of abandoning his best friend had been weighing heavy on him.
Stiles nodded. "Yeah, I did," Stiles muttered under his breath before taking another bite from his buttered toast before noticing the piling banker boxes in the corner of the living room near the door to his Dad's office. "What are those for?" Stiles pointed behind his father's back, getting a somewhat different expression that he couldn't really understand.
Taking a sip from his coffee, his Dad folded the newspaper and set it aside, standing up. "Just some, uh, files from the office," Stiles noted it then and there that something was wrong. His father wouldn't react that way. "Listen, I've got to go to the office, lots of work to do, I guess. " His Dad chuckled nervously when he pointed to the pile of banker boxes inside the living room. "Stay safe, Mischief, don't skip again," his Dad said, trying to steer the topic of the conversation away from the banker boxes.
Keeping an eye on his Dad, Stiles grabbed his backpack and headed for his Jeep, starting the engine when he realized that his father called him Mischief. His brows furrowed at the nickname, remembering that his Dad would only call him that when he's hiding a secret from him. The last time his Dad called him that was when he asked if his Mom was going to be alright.
"Everything's going to be okay, Mischief."
The soft-spoken words rang in his mind and Stiles stared at the rear-view mirror of his Jeep, looking intently at the police cruiser exiting the driveway. His Dad was hiding something and Stiles vowed to find out what it is and while a part of him wanted to trail his Dad, he knew that he wouldn't get anything if he acted suspiciously. Stiles adjusted the gear shift and slowly reversed his way out of the driveway—he'll find out whatever it was his father was hiding from him.
To those who are confused about the meaning and message of this chapter, this is basically Stiles' mea culpa, his epiphany detailed. Allison and Stiles are slowly but surely threading their way on to the road of recovery, or so until something were to happen to them.
Just kidding, but please, be keep an eye out for the formidable trio. Anyways, thanks for reading and reviewing, favorite-ing and following! You guys are making my day and are making me so pumped and inspired to write the next chapter of Succumb. Hope that I could make this more interesting for you guys!
Anyway, on a random note, did you see the official trailer for Teen Wolf's Season 6B? Awesome, right? It's like they're bringing back the original cast with how Tyler Hoechlin, Dylan O'Brein, Colton Haynes and Charlie's there(minus Allison, but I'm hoping she'd come back in the end)! Loved how, the day before, the cast were posting snippets.