Okay! So sorry for the massive delay in writing. I was sort of 'eh' about the finale (well, I do believe there were so many high points like Dylan killing the whole, 'I'm one thousand years old – you can't kill me!' line) and I needed to sort my head. As some of you may know, I started writing an aftermath fic to get over some of that – which I'm thoroughly enjoying!

I am so so sorry it took so incredibly long to update!

But back to this fic! The game's afoot!

Chapter 15

Divide and Conquer

"So we've got the school, the hospital, and Deaton's clinic. Three places. Where would a Nogitsune most likely want to hide a bomb?" Scott asks.

Isaac chuckles, which causes everyone to look at him, appalled. "What?" Isaac shrugs. "You know that if Stiles was here, he would've made a super dumb joke about that combination of words. You all know it and you would've laughed."

"Stile isn't here," Lydia snaps, her eyes flashing. "We need to figure out where he is and end this madness."

Isaac puts his hands up. "Excuse me! I'm sorry I can't be as tense and weird as you all the time, but you all know that if he was here, he'd be making jokes to break the tension and it would piss me off, but I'd secretly appreciate it! Because this? This whole tightly-wound, all business thing we have going right now? It's horrible!"

His words did nothing to quell Lydia in the slightest. "Stiles could die." She states, as if this was proof enough that he was being entirely inappropriate. Maybe he was.

Isaac opens his mouth, but Scott cuts him off. "Lydia, he's right. Stiles would say something."

It isn't enough to make the permanent frown evaporate from her face, but it's enough to make her not yell. Scott takes in a breath and looks back to the pack of scared people around him. Humans, hunters, banshees, and werewolves. He nods. "So, I know this is the game he's playing, but at the moment, it's our only option. If there's a bomb in one of these three places, we need to figure it out. I've already called Deaton and he's using some of the dogs to sweep the place, see if their senses can pick up any scent of the bomb. Which means that we have two other places. Mr. Stilinski, can you take care of the school?"

The Sheriff nods. "I'll say that we received an anonymous tip that someone planted a bomb inside Beacon Hills High School. It'll be enough to evacuate the premises and do a thorough sweep of everything."

The knot in Scott's chest loosens a little bit as the Sheriff pulls out his phone and starts demanding instructions to whomever's on the other line. Scott only finds himself distracted for a mere moment before turning toward everyone else. "Which leaves us with the hospital. I'll call my mom and let her know we're coming and see if she can get the patients moved to a safer location. I say that one of the wolves go with the Sheriff, because our scent is better than any police officer."

Isaac, who's still getting weary looks from Lydia, raises his hand, "I'll go. When my dad was really bad, I used to stay in the school overnight sometimes. I know some special locations that I'm not even sure a bomb-sniffing dog could locate."

Whether it was to be helpful or to avoid Lydia, Scott is grateful.

Lydia rounds on him and Isaac looks like he's about to pass out. "It'll have a very distinct smell – that's how you know the chemicals are reacting with each other. It'll smell like burnt hair. Very strongly."

Isaac only nods.

Scott, pleased that he doesn't have to get in between a fight from Lydia and Isaac, says, "Okay then, let me just call my mom and I—"

Scott stops when he pulls out his phone, his eyes widening. Everyone looks down and Allison even lets out a gasp. Everyone stills at the sight of Stiles' face on the screen, caught in a casually wave. Scott's fingers tremble.

"Answer it, Scott," Lydia whispers when he makes no effort to do so.

He takes a few preparation breaths before bringing the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Scotty," the person on the other line says in a playful tone, but it sounds entirely wrong. It's off and different and it sends chills down Scott's spine. "Been a long time, man."

"What do you want?" Scott snaps.

"Woah there, buddy. We haven't seen each other in a while – what's with all the hostility? Not even a little love for your long lost friend?"

"Stop that," Scott says, trying to make sure he doesn't tear up in front of everyone. "Stop trying to sound like him."

The change in the air of the room is unmistakable. "Well, well, Scott," the voice on the other line switches until it's like listening to ice. "Look who is taking charge."

"What do you want?" Scott demands. "Besides ruining all of our lives, what is the purpose to this call?"

"You're quite demanding for someone who's losing horribly at this little game of mine."

A rage builds up into Scott and it's all he can do to control his shift. "This isn't a game, these are people's lives! This is my best friend's life! What do you want?"

"I just wanted to check on my competition, make sure you were flailing as ever. Even with Stiles' futile attempts to help you guys out with the game, you just don't get it, do you? You just aren't putting the pieces together! If you were so wonderfully distraught about it, this wouldn't even be fun! Where's the challenge? Where's the fun?"

"Stop. Please, just stop."

"To up the stakes a bit, I'm going to give you a hint that you so desperately need. A hint that should explain everything for you – if you can figure it out. It took Stiles only a little prodding. How long will it take for you? Are you ready Scott?"

Scott doubts he'd ever be ready, but here he is.

"Everyone has it, but no one can lose it."

"What?" Scott shouts. "That's not helpful, it's a riddle! This isn't a game!"

"No, because a game have players on both sides. You need to get on it, Scott. Because by the time you figure out the rules, Scott, you'll have already lost."

XXX

"We did sweeps of the entire hospital, Scott," Melissa says to her son, her eyes wincing in pity. "But they found nothing,"

"That's what scares me, Mom." Scott says with a heavy breath. "If they're not finding something, it's probably here."

Chris lays a hand on Scott's shoulder. "Some things that are not found are simply not there, Scott. Not everything is a riddle."

"But this is!" Scott exclaims, his eyes widening. "This is a game to him and we're losing!"

Everyone has it, but no one can lose it.

"Stop it!" Chris shouts, clapping his hands on his shoulders and turning Scott to him. "Don't you see? He's getting inside your head. And when that happens, you'll start making rash decisions instead of thinking everything through. And that's when someone's going to get hurt. Or worse."

"Stiles is dying," Scott whispers. The thought makes him seethe with rage and his next words come in a shout. "Does not one understand that? This is the time for rash decisions because we don't even know if we can still save him. We're just assuming we can, but what if he's drowned? What if he's dead?"

Allison approaches Scott, just like she'd done weeks before, tears present in her eyes. She tentatively reaches out to grab his wrist, trembling as she does so. "There's always hope, Scott."

As Scott tries to collect himself, one of the nurses speeds into the hallways. "Melissa, something's wrong with some of the IV bags." They hiss, pulling Ms. McCall aside. "The saline solution was removed from at least five of them. Something else is in a few of them. It's lucky that one of the nurses noticed, otherwise we would've put them inside people."

Ms. McCall, who's grown pale, whispers, "How did they figure it out?"

The other nurse frowns. "They said it had a very distinct smell. Saline doesn't have an odor."

Everyone looks frantically at each other as the words come out of their mouth. Ms. McCall, to her credit, remains relatively calm. "What kind of odor?"

The nurse shrugs. "I didn't smell it, but you can ask Kevin. He's putting them all in the same room right now.

"All of them?" Ms. McCall cries, her calm finally breaking. "In the same room?"

Scott may not be a genius like Lydia, but even he can surmise that putting them all together is bad. Like, blow up the entire hospital-bad.

It only takes them a second afterward to sprint down the hallway of the hospital. When they reach the room with another nurse – Kevin, Scott assumes – there are boxes upon boxes of saline bags propped up against one another. "Stop!" Ms. McCall shouts. The nurse, startled, drops one of the boxes.

Everyone flinches.

"Kevin, I need you get out of here," Ms. McCall breathes when they still all have their lives intact. "Call the Sheriff, let him know that there is an unidentified substance in the saline bags."

Kevin looks confused. "Why would the Sheriff want to know someone messed with our saline bags?"

"Just do it!"

Once they're all alone, Ms. McCall turns to Lydia. "You're on."

Lydia's eyes grow wide only for a mere moment. Then, they narrow and she flicks her hair behind her shoulders. "Alright," she says confidently and Scott can tell she's appraising the entire situation. "Everyone needs to stay still. The chemicals have a strong bond, but it doesn't mean they aren't susceptible to movement. Does anyone have a knife on them?"

Chris and Allison share a look that clearly is 'you've got to be freaking kidding me,' and Allison pulls one out of her back pocket and hands it over. Lydia, with an extraordinary amount of care and grace, bends down and takes one of the saline bags in her hands. "These are very flammable, so if anyone of you are a secret smoker, please make sure your lighter is not in here."

All the parents give accusing glances to their children. It would be funny if they all weren't about to die. Scott puts his hands up. "Mom, how many times do I have to tell you – I am not smoking or on drugs!"

Lydia rolls her eyes and returns her attention to the saline bag. With still fingers, she maneuvers the knife across the plastic, cutting off the tube. It feels like everyone is holding their breath. Scott's fists are clenched as she punctures the top of the bag.

Bringing it closer to her face, Lydia takes in a deep breath.

"Vinegar."

Scott looks around. "Vinegar? What does that mean?"

Everyone has it, but no one can lose it.

Lydia sighs, setting the bag down and the contents start to spill on the floor. "I mean that they're filled with vinegar."

Everyone sighs with relief.

Beep, beep, beep.

Then they nearly jump out of their skin when Scott's phone goes off. With a shaky laugh, Scott answers it, "What's the deal with the school?"

"Someone injected vinegar into the basketballs. But that's all it is, it's just vinegar." Isaac says from the other line. "The Sheriff said something was in the saline solution bags at the hospital?"

"It's the same," Scott says distantly, completely confused now. "They're filled with vinegar. That only leaves Deaton's, but he hasn't called at all…"

Everyone has it, but no one can lose it.

Scott's eyes widen. "A shadow."

He whirls around, panic striking every part of him. "Oh my God!" He shouts, the phone dropping from his grasp as the realization hits him. "This was all a decoy!" He shouts. "A shadow – that's the answer to the riddle!"

"Scott, what are you talking about?" Ms. McCall cries.

"He knows," Scott says, finally allowing the tears to fall from his eyes. "He knows about the bathtub at Deaton's. He knows that Stiles' comes as a shadow whenever he takes control."

When the realization courses through everyone in the room, it feels like time stops.

"He's going to drain the tub."

XXX

Scott has never driven so fast in his life, but never has taken so long to get somewhere.

It doesn't matter, though.

By the time they reach the animal clinic, Deaton's in a heap on the floor. They sprint in the back room – only Ms. McCall stopping to check on Deaton – everyone screeching to a halt when they see a figure standing next to the tub.

At the sound of their desperate sprinting, the figure turns around. Stiles.

But not.

His eyes have scarily dark rings around them and he looks entirely emaciated. His clothing is hanging loosely off his boney frame and his eyes are dead.

"Figure out my riddle, Scotty?" He taunts, a smile stretching across his face that looks so foreign and odd, Scott winces. "I'm so glad you're finally here.

"Now the real game begins."

A/N: Shit's about to go down next chapter.

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