Okay… okay… okay…

So I'm am NOT going to do what Jeff did in Insatiable (I'm not gonna say it out loud just in case some people still haven't seen it or been on Tumblr (lol… that's how it was spoiled for me) but you ALL know what I'm referring to. Nope. Big bowl of nope.

Also, I kinda thought of a sequel idea for this. Let me know what you guys think – particularly at the end – if you feel like I should do that. Granted, it can kinda be a new fic based off the actual show, but just let me know!

So, Jeff is mainly focused on the Japanese folklore – since I don't know much about it, it's not really gonna be prevalent in this fic like the show. I'm kinda much more interested in the Riddles. Prepare yourself for riddles abound – and puzzles! Because that's how I'd like to believe how Stiles thinks.

Chapter 14

Will You Dream of Me? Or Monsters?

"We should have someone watching this at all times."

Derek looks at Scott, impressed with the authority in his voice that he's never heard before. If any good could come from this nightmare, having Scott forced to stand on his own may be it. The two had always been a duo – Scott and Stiles. Scott was the muscle, Stiles was the brains. It was a good system. A weird, bizarrely codependent system, but it always worked for them. Derek didn't think either of them ever considered what they should do if one of them would be taken out of the equation.

That's the most heartbreaking.

Derek understood. He understood more than he wished to ever say, but he understood. Because there are certain people in your life that are constants. Certain people that you never have a contingency plan for because you could never entertain the fact that they may not be around forever. Derek had that with his family.

Scott had Stiles.

You can't have one without the other.

Or so he thought.

Scott nods to everyone as they filter out of Stiles' room and Derek can see the teen is barely keeping himself together. He knows he's going to shatter soon, so as the last person leaves, Derek stands up and closes the door, leaning against it just in case one of them thought they needed to ask something.

Scott only gives him a momentary glance of 'what the hell are you doing,' before the realization hits him and he crumbles. Clutching his side, Scott falls to his knees, pressing his face against his thighs so all Derek could hear is the strangled sound of his muffled sobs. Derek knows that Isaac probably can hear him. Maybe even some of the humans. But what matters is that Scott thinks he's safe enough – even if just for a moment – to let go.

Derek lets Scott have his moment, monitoring his breathing until it evens out. It takes a while, but Scott eventually gets there. Derek can't help but smile grimly at the thought. That's true of almost everything Scott does. It may take a while, but he will always get there.

Scott shakily gets to his feet and brings himself over to where Stiles is lying on his bed still, managing to collapse in the chair Mr. Stilinski placed by his bedside. He grabs his best friend's hand and it quakes. It takes Derek a moment to realize that it's shaking because of Scott and not Stiles himself.

"I can't do this," Scott murmurs, holding his best friend's hand tightly. "I can't do it without him. He's always here. He's always here and I need him and he's dying and there's nothing I can do."

Derek pulls himself away from the door, sitting on the edge of Stiles' bed, careful not to jostle him. "Stop that right now." He states. "He's still here. He's right there. Hold onto that. Hold onto that hope."

"What hope?" Scott cries. "There is no hope! He's dying and he's hurting people. If this was any other person, we all would try and take him out. If this was any other person, the answer would be simple! I've gone over how this ends so many times and none of them are good. If this was any other person—"

"It's not." Derek states. "It's not any other person, it's Stiles. But, you are now understanding something that took me years to grasp. Why it's important for Beacon Hills to have someone like you."

Scott looks up, his eyes full of tears and regret.

"Because you understand something that I never did. That it is always someone's 'Stiles.'" Derek says softly. "I know who I used to be. And I know if this had happened a few years ago, there wouldn't even be a conflict. A choice. Just one, simple solution. Stiles has to die before anyone gets hurt. But that's not how it should be – and you knew that before you even understood what it meant.

"Because everyone is somebody's 'Stiles.'" Derek says, his eyes downcast. "Everyone has people who are willing to look past the situation and try and save them. And that's important. Because it makes us realize that lives are sacred and not just something to take. It makes us—"

"—human." Scott finishes.

Derek nods. "I always thought pain is what makes you human. It keeps you grounded. But I was wrong. It's people. People are anchors. Because everyone is important to someone, even if they don't know it."

"Scott?"

The word comes out broken and quiet, but it's there. Scott leaps to his feet, which Derek finds is odd since he's closer to Stiles sitting down, but Scott's movements are so jerky that he's isn't sure if he's even in control of them. "Stiles, oh my God!" He hesitates – Derek can tell that he wants to wrap his friend in an embrace, but is afraid to do so. "Stiles!"

The brokenness vanishes. Stiles tilts his head, giving Scott a grim grin. "No quite."

Derek leaps off of the bed. "Scott, get back."

But it's no use. Before Derek can react, Stiles bounds up from the bed, grabbing Scott by the throat. He charges until he slams Scott against the wall, bringing him higher in the air. "You were right the first time, Scott." Stiles says, his voice rough as though it's been ran over gravel. Scott's eyes widen as he chokes. "There is no hope."

Derek rushes over and pulls Stiles off of Scott, who crumbles to the ground, gasping. As soon as Derek touches Stiles, Stiles whirls to face him, his grin spreading. "It's not like you to spout out false hope, Derek. You're the one who knows that there is no hope for your kind. And you should know that there is no hope for Stiles."

Derek doesn't know what to do. What does he do with the boy in front of him, his face pale and ghastly, but malevolent all the same?

Then, Stiles turns to rummage around in his desk, retrieving something that made Derek's heart stop.

Lighter fluid and a match.

"You see, you can't outfox a trickster. Do you want to know why I was so happy to have this person?" Stiles says, running his hands down his chest, his fingers twitching all the way. "You see I had three choices. A werewolf, a hunter, and a human. But then the human decided for me. The moment he closed the doors, he sealed his own fate. At first I was disappointed. Being in control of a True Alpha would've been quite the experience, but I get it now what they mean when they say 'great things come in small packages.'"

Stiles flips open the lighter fluid container and turns it upside down. The liquid slashes onto the floor, seeping into the carpet. "Because, little did I know, I got the best one! You see, Derek," Stiles says, approaching him aggressively. "You don't win against a trickster with force. Not with some brute strength from an animal that lives within the pages of a fairy tale. You are trying to hunt something that can't be hunted.

"Did you know that foxes aren't pack animals?" Stiles continues, smirking when the lighter fluid empties. He tosses the container at Derek with a laugh. Derek flinches, the smell of gasoline making his insides still. "No, they're opportunistic creatures. They actually wait. They wait for prey, they wait for danger to clear. So while you idiots are charging around, trying to break through doors and get answers, I waited."

Stiles lights a match and Derek is positive his heart stops.

"Because I didn't get a True Alpha. I didn't get a strategic hunter." Stiles gets closer to Derek with the match, the fire flickering, dancing closer to his fingers. "I got the human. Not only did I get the human, I got the trickster. I got the thinker. I got the fox of the group."

Stiles takes a few steps back, until the line of lighter fluid is between himself and the two wolves. "You want to know how to beat a fox? You have to win the game." Stiles smirks.

"Too bad I took the only one who knows how to play."

He lets the match go.

XXX

"Send all units available."

Chris Argent sits up, his nerves on edge from the tense voice. He asked the Sheriff to give him a police scanner once the Sheriff was in on the secret, but all it served was shortening his life span. Usually, these emergencies turned out to be nothing and he was pumped with adrenaline for something like an elderly lady accidentally putting metal in the microwave. Except this time, there's something different. The sense of urgency in the officer's voice has him listening carefully.

"'117 W Dulane Road. Send units to 117 W Dulane Road!'

'Wait, that address—'

'The Sheriff's house.'

Before the words were out, Chris already had a gun in his hand and his arm in his coat.

XXX

He sits and watches.

It's not surprising that it takes them a little while to get the fire out. Between the wolf who is petrified of flames and the wolf who witness his best friend trying to murder him, he's surprised it doesn't take longer. Just as some of the flames are peaking through Stiles' window, the black smoke to smothered flames start billowing out instead.

The fox frowns. A little anticlimactic, to say the least.

He licks his fingers, smiling at the taste of gasoline. The body shivers. It's a little aggravating. For what the human makes up for with his mind, his body really leaves something left to be desired. He feels bile rising up in his throat. He wishes the Bardo would just complete already. Then there will be nothing but a shell. He just needs for the soul to die.

All he has to do is wait.

Good thing foxes are good at waiting.

XXX

"Allison!" Chris Argent yells, panicking once he sees the charred second level of the Stilinski house. "Allison!"

"Dad, over here!"

Chris doesn't stop panicking until he sees his daughter waving him over, huddled by a group of her friends. Without caring at the looks he receives from all the teenagers, Chris wraps his daughter in a strong hug. He never thought he might be on the other side of the fire, particularly when his daughter was involved. "Dad, you're crushing me. This is more painful than the fire."

Chris sheepishly lets go, running his hand through his hair.

The Sheriff gives him a weak chuckle. "I told you that giving you the scanner would cause more harm than good." The humor doesn't reach his eyes. Chris doesn't say anything, but looks from every teen to the burnt house, back to the Sheriff. "He's gone." Mr. Stilinski answers. "Stiles is gone."

"And he took some of the house with him?" Chris asks.

"It was a threat," a low voice grumbles, emerging from the shadows behind them. Everyone turns to Derek, whose jaw is set but he's much paler than anyone's ever seen him. "He wasn't trying to kill anyone, he was just trying to prove he could if he wanted to."

"I think the fact that he used fire means he was going after much more than just a taunt," Chris says quietly to Derek, watching as he eyed the charred second floor. "How much damage?"

The Sheriff sighs. "It could be worse. A lot of Stiles' belongings are completely ruined, but it was mainly contained to his room, thanks for the lighter fluid. Although, I'm not sure how much he'll want to be reminded of this whole ordeal once it's done anyways. Maybe a renovation will be for the best."

No one says anything to the fact that maybe this won't end with Stiles, completely healed, in a room with fresh paint.

"Okay, we need to come up with a plan." The Sheriff says, as if he knows exactly what the awkward silence meant. "We need a plan on how to save my son and stop whatever is going on. Because I'll be damned if some stupid… Chinese folktale character destroys the only family I have left!"

"Japanese."

Everyone turns when the person squeaks out the word. Kira winces at their reactions. She'd been almost entirely silent through the whole ordeal, as if she wasn't quite sure if her comments were allowed. "I'm sorry?" The Sheriff says.

Kira bites her lips, frowning at the attention that shifted to her. "I've been trying to figure out why Stiles had a picture of my house and the fact that it was marked. And then Derek said that Stiles kept on saying how we needed to 'outfox the fox' and I think I know what's going on." When she pauses, no one speaks, so she sighs. "I think – and keep in mind I might be entirely wrong – that maybe… Stiles is leaving clues for us? You said that he was saying that he took the only person who knows how to play the game, right?" She asks, motioning to Derek. "What if Stiles is playing anyways? Scott, you mentioned he liked chess—"

"It's what he used to explain the supernatural to me." The Sheriff states, his eyes lighting up with Kira's conjecture as if he was profoundly impressed.

"Isn't chess all about figuring out the moves several steps later? Not about the reality that's in front of you, but the reality in the future?" Kira asks. "What if…" She squints her eyes, obviously uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "What if Stiles is trying to show us what the moves are? He's trying to help us figure it out, but we've been focusing too hard on the reality in front of us. You said that you found a picture of Eichen House in his t-shirt that wasn't burned, right?" She nods to Derek and Chris. "And I'm fairly certain whatever's possessing him is a Japanese fox, and so he marked my house. Scott, you found him at the school. Out of all places he could be – why was he at the school? I think he's leaving us messages."

"We need to see the entire chessboard." The Sheriff states, his eyes wide.

"That was…" Lydia states stiffly, side-eying Kira. "Surprisingly understandable."

Allison rolls her eyes.

"So we've got four places," Scott says, narrowing his eyebrows. "We've got Kira's house, the school, Eichen House, and the Sheriff Station. There's enough of us. I say we split up and try and cover more ground to see what he could've possibly left at each of the four spots. Kira, why don't you talk to your parents. Sheriff and Derek? You can look around the station. Mr. Argent and Allison, I think you know the school the best because didn't you do some recon when you first moved here? Which leaves Lydia, Isaac, and I in Eichen House. Call if you find anything. And I mean anything." Scott's eyes darken, imploring each of them. "We all know Stiles in different ways. He may be talking to specific people. We have to do this together. Or else…"

Everyone knows the answer. No one needs to say it.

XXX

"You're both thinking it, I'm just going to say it," Isaac says when they arrive at Eichen House. "This place is creepy as shit. I'm pretty sure this is where we die."

Scott sighs. "The quicker we check it out, the quicker we can leave."

Lydia grips the cast iron fence encircling it, wincing a few times. "I'm with Isaac, I don't like this place. There's too much screaming. I feel like I'm watching Scooby-Doo."

The two boys give her a bemused look. "Lydia, no one's screaming."

Lydia looks up at them, her eyes wide. "How can you not here that?"

Scott puts a tentative hand on her shoulder. "If it gets too much, let us know. We can have the Argents pick you up and Isaac and I can look around."

"No." Lydia states. "There's something here, I can feel it. And if I'm best suited here to help Stiles, this is where I want to be." She jerks back after the sentence, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Seriously, Lydia. The Argents are just a phone call away."

"No!" She cries, grabbing her head, but her eyes alive and fierce. "I can just feel like this place is important! And I'm not leaving until I find out why!"

There's really no arguing with Lydia when she sets her mind to something.

They sneak in easily enough, Isaac commenting a few times that he's sorely disappointed he didn't get to tackle an orderly for some cool story. With Lydia jumping at every sound and Isaac nonchalantly keeping an eye out, Scott begins to wonder if this was a good idea at all.

"If we had enough funding, we could just get a bunch of solitary rooms and stick them all in side one, and then we'd be able to make it home for the five o'clock game."

All three of them freeze as two orderlies are heard from around the corner. "Hide!" Scott hisses, whirling around.

"Where? In the invisible hiding closet?" Isaac snaps back.

With a roll of her eyes and a little bit of flair, Lydia grabs the two boys and ushers them down the hall quietly, until they're around the corner. A door is open off to the side and they sprint in there, keeping it slight ajar until they hear the orderlies distance themselves a great deal.

"Ha!" A voice cries behind them, a good-natured snort following. "I get it! When is a door not a door!"

The three of them freeze. When Scott turns around, his eyes widen. "S-Stiles?"

Stiles leans against the padded walls, a friendly smirk on his face. "Do you get it? Do you get it Scott? You left the door ajar." He motions to Lydia and Isaac. "I explain it because sometimes Scott doesn't get everything the first time." He chuckles.

"You idiot, I'm the one who told you that riddle!" Scott says, his chest feeling like it's about to explode.

"Scott," Isaac says wearily. "W-Who are you talking to?"

Scott stares. "Stiles, you idiot. He's standing right there."

Stiles flicks his fingers cheekily with a grin.

"No, he's not."

"Isaac, stop being stupid." Scott states, stomping over to his best friend. "He's right—"

But when Scott tries to grasp his shoulder, his hand goes right through Stiles. Right through. "W-What?" He murmurs, staring at his best friend in horror.

Stiles doesn't seem too concerned.

Instead, he approaches Isaac and cocks his head. "Can't say I'm surprised Scarfy here can't see me. He never did like me much."

"He's totally lost it, Lydia." Isaac says, looking at Scott like he's considering institutionalizing him here.

"Shut up, Isaac, I can hear him." Lydia says, looking around the room. "I can't see him, but I can hear him."

Stiles beams. "That's my Banshee at work. Scott, tell Lydia I've always thought her Banshee abilities were very attractive."

"Stiles, I can't see you, but I can hear you."

"Right," Stiles says. "Lydia, I've always thought your Banshee abilities were very attractive."

"Dude, what is going on?" Scott cries out, waving his hands. "Why can I see you and neither of them can."

Stiles groans. "It literally pains me sometimes, buddy. Like, how are you even surviving without me around? I genuinely don't know how you function in the world when I'm not in it!"

The words settle like rocks.

Even Stiles looks uncomfortable at them.

"Whoops, I made that really heavy really quickly," Stiles mutters. "Anyways, I thought it'd be obvious. I closed your door, Scott. Not Lydia's, not Isaac's."

"Then what are you doing here?"

Isaac leans in, staring around the room like he's afraid something will jump out at him. "I would like to go on the record and say this is the craziest thing we've ever done."

"We once tried to wrangled a lizard man who kept on paralyzing everyone. And a disembodied voice in a mental institution is what weirds you out the most?" Stiles huffs.

Isaac frowns. "He just insulted me, didn't he?"

"Hey, my sarcasm is literally transcending worlds, Scotty! I've officially reached a new level!"

"Stiles! Focus!" Scott snaps as Lydia indiscreetly tries to hide a chuckle. "What are you doing here, what's going on?"

Stiles' smile falters a little bit. "I thought it was obvious, Scotty. I'm dying."

Scott flinches like Stiles' words burned him. "N-No." He states. "We'll get it out of you – whatever it is."

Stiles shrugs. "I'm in Bardo – whatever Kira was talking about. Limbo, between worlds. Whatever supernatural shenanigans you want to label it as."

Stiles takes a deep breath. "But that's not the important part."

"How is that not the important part?"

"The important part is something's coming. And since you clearly can't function without me, I'm going to help you."

A/N: So… a little different from Jeff! Haha, I knew I wanted to use Eichen House, but nothing like Echo House. And Allison and I are currently having a slumber party.

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