Outside, the wind blew aggressively, tugging at the ancient walls of Eichenhouse. As it hammered at the doors and ripped past the windows it created a haunting, low whistle that echoed throughout all of the dingy corridors. At one point, a window somewhere in the building shattered, and shouting and scrambling could be heard from somewhere else in the building. Each disconcerting noise always seemed to manage to bounce back into the small square room the group had been forced to wait in. For Isaac and Liam, this was their first venture into the asylum and both of them had fallen pale and silent, stilled by the eeriness of the place. Scott was tense, hands gripped firmly in his lap and back set straight as a rod. His gaze was set on the heavy metal door, and he placed almost all of his focus on listening and sensing what was going on within the building. Across the room from everyone else, Stiles sat alone on an old wooden seat, elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped together. He was covering his mouth, staring at the floor intently. Although he didn't have his usual bounciness about him, he was still shaking violently.
No matter how hard he tried to cover it up, steady his heart beat or ease his breathing, he couldn't conceal how terrified this place made him. He had so many terrible memories, and the whole aura of the building itched at his skin, picking at his brain and sending him back to a dark time when his mind wasn't his own. The fear had a grip on his chest, and he felt as though it were rattling his ribs, desperate for some way to escape, to take full control. It rattled and hammered and shook his ribcage until eventually his whole body succumbed to the shivering. So now he sat on his own, doing his best to keep his cool and focus his attention on the task at hand. Daylight was creeping up on them, slowly finding its way through the few windows and skylights in the building, although it did nothing to comfort the anxious teenagers.
Finally, after half an hour of tense silence, the door swung open to reveal a slightly older woman, who smiled at them reassuringly –although it didn't spread to her eyes. Looking at each of them, her eyes rested on Stiles, "Ah, Mr Stilinski, how nice to see you again." Her voice sat low and cold, not revealing any signs of the affection that her words were claiming.
"Pleasure is all mine," he grimaced, standing up and taking a step towards her, "can we go to our rooms now?"
The orderly looked him up and down, taking in his shaking form and the wild look in his eyes. "Actually, as it is day-time, all patients are required to remain in the day time areas. If you'd-"
"What? No we have to be in our rooms we-" Stiles was raising his voice, panic and confusion making him throw caution to the wind.
Eyebrows furrowed the nurse glared at him, "Stiles, if you won't calm down we'll have to take you to solitary for a rest." The way she said it let him know what it meant. He remembered all too clearly his last experience there, when he had been restrained and drugged against his will.
Gulping, he tried to speak, but no words came out. Stepping up behind him, Isaac put a firm hand on his shoulder, "Stiles, it's fine, we'll go to the courtyard and enjoy the sun. It'll be fine."
Stiles looked back at him in surprise, of the three of them, Isaac was the one he least expected to provide a comforting word, not that he was complaining. Closing his mouth he nodded firmly, remaining silent as the orderly led them all out of the room and down a maze of corridors, out into the bright sunlight of the courtyard. Wind battered them the moment the stepped out, turning what had looked like a warm day into a chilled experience. The four of them shuffled forwards, turning in unison when they heard the metal gate clatter shut behind them. "Well," sighed Liam, "here we are, patients in a mental institution. What's first, ping pong?" He laughed quietly at his own joke, but quickly tailed off when he realised no one else had joined in. "Sorry. So what are we gonna do?"
Scott looked about, clearly listening in to all the different conversations going on around them. He had to shout slightly to be heard over the wind, and the other three all craned their necks to hear him, "I think we should try and stay together, or at least close to each other. Start talking to people, see if you can find anything out about-"
"STILES?" A shout cut across Scott's instructions, and they all turned to see a pudgy boy standing a few meters away from them. His face was a mixture of confusion and excitement, toothy grin crinkling the rest of his face. Recognition suddenly burst across his face and he waved enthusiastically, "It IS you!"
"Oh no." Stiles groaned, rubbing his face nervously before he shuffled over to the boy. "Hi- uh- Oliver? How you doin?" He did his best attempt at a friendly smile.
Grinning, the boy looked eagerly between Stiles, Isaac, Scott and Liam, "Oh, not too bad. They kept me in solitary for ages after what happened the last time you were here. Hey do you remember-"
Quickly putting a stop to his story, Stiles gently pushed Oliver away from the others, hand resting on his shoulder, "Let's not talk about that okay? So um, I'm gonna spend some time with these guys but I'll talk to you later." Patting the boy on the shoulder he gave him a quick thumbs up before turning on his heels and rushing back towards the group. They were just about to move on when Oliver called after him.
"Hey Stiles?"
Voice straining to remain calm, Stiles turned back to him, "Yes?"
"I forgot to tell you something. It's important."
"Oh, well why didn't you tell me?" Stiles paced back towards him, ready to hear the 'important' news.
"You didn't ask."
Groaning he did his best not to shout at Oliver. "Ok, well I'm asking, what's the important news?"
A smile lit up Oliver's face and he jiggled on the spot in excitement. "There's this girl who keeps screaming your name. I haven't seen her, but I hear her all the time."
"What?! Really? Where is she?" Stiles grabbed Oliver by the shoulders, shaking him slightly in his rush. The boy looked shocked for a moment before speaking up once more:
"Oh, well I'm not really sure, but by the sounds of things, she's – umm- downstairs." He whispered the last word, covering up his hand as he pointed at the floor.
Having heard the pair's hushed conversation, the three werewolves rushed forwards, crowding behind Stiles to listen closely. Scott smiled kindly at the boy, "That's really great Oliver. Do you think you could take us to where you think she is? It would be a great help."
"I really want to help, yeah I can do that." He nodded, sucking on his lower lip before turning around and walking away at a fast pace. The group watched him waddle away for a moment, stared at each other, and then rushed after him. Isaac and Liam lagged behind, shrugging at each other in mutual confusion before jogging to catch up with the rest of them. Oliver lead them down a repetitive series of lefts and rights, making them stop every few steps to make sure no one was watching them. It was slow going, and everyone was growing increasingly frustrated. The only think that kept any of them from having an outburst was the regular warning looks that Scott shot them, telling them to remain silent. Finally, they reached a stairwell that wound upwards out of sight, and spun down into the darkness below them. "This is where it comes from. But we're not allowed down there."
Scott smiled at him, familiar with the staircase that led to the top security level of Eichenhouse from their visit to Dr Valack. "That's great Oliver, this was a really big help. Can you do one more thing for us and not tell anyone you took us here. If someone asks, send them the opposite direction, okay?" The pudgy boy nodded, standing and staring at them for an awkward moment before shuffling around and hurrying off back in the direction they had come.
"What a weird kid." Isaac spoke in astonishment, staring after the odd boy.
"Trust me," Stiles fixed him with a knowing stare, "he's normal compared to most people here. Plus, he's a good kid, he helped out a lot when- uh- the last time I was here." An awkward tension hung in the air for a moment before Stiles shook his head, clapping his hands and beginning to descend the steps. When no one followed he turned back to stare at them, "Guys c'mon, she's got to be down here. What are you waiting for?"
Frowning sadly, Scott took one step down to get closer to his friend, "Stiles, don't you remember? I can't go down there, and neither can Liam or Isaac. You're the only one who can get past the mountain ash."
A look of horror flooded Stiles' face, and he began to shake even more violently, panic causing his voice to speed up, adopting a higher tone than usual. "What? No- I can't- Scott I can't do this on my own! How am I gonna- what do I do?" He stared wild eyed at his friend, desperate for some sort of solution.
Scott thought for a moment, mouthing silently before managing, "First of all, breathe." Stiles realised that he had been hyperventilating, and took a deep, steadying breath. "Second of all, just- go down there and see what's going on, don't do anything too risky or stupid. If you can, find out where she is, and then come back and tell us. From there we can figure something out. Okay?"
Still unhappy with the arrangements, Stiles nodded grimly before turning to face the dark staircase. Calling out behind him as he made his way down, he started barking orders, "You guys make sure no one comes down here. Isaac, Liam if someone tries, make a distraction and leave Scott to guard the stairs okay?" They shouted a disgruntled response, but he was already so far down that he couldn't really hear what they had said. The metal staircase clattered with each step he took, sending a shivering echo around the walls every time he moved. Reaching into his pocket, he wrapped his fingers around the key card that he had stolen from the orderly's waistband when she had pushed him through the courtyard door. As the security gate came into sight he slowed to a stop on the stairs, crouching down to see if there was anyone guarding the position. The hall was empty so far as he could see, so he cautiously slunk down the last few steps until he stood facing the door. Not waiting around to get caught, he shoved the key card into the panel, tapping the machine impatiently when it didn't turn green. After a few moments, a red light flickered on followed by a low beep to indicate that the card had been rejected. "What? No-" He muttered to himself, pulling out the card and wiping it on his shirt before shoving it back into the machine, "C'mon, work!" He hissed at the machine, hitting it firmly now in the hope that it would encourage the thing to work. Again it rejected the card. "Shit!" Fumbling with the card in his tremoring hands he did his best to buff out a scratch on the ID chip using his grey cotton shirt. "C'mon please." He begged it to work this time, and gently slid the card into the slot. For a few agonising seconds it buzzed quietly before finally turning green with a happy 'bing'. The door was unlocked, and he pulled it open just as he heard muffled voices from upstairs. He must be running out of time. Stumbling down the long corridor, he took a few seconds to stare into each dark cell.
In one sat a wendigo, teeth snapping hopefully in his direction. Disturbed, he moved on to the next, spotting a woman in a straight jacket with no mouth. Gulping, he remembered the mute, and hurried on to the next cell. He pressed his face to the little dingy window, squinting to try and see through the dirty glass. Reaching up, he used his sleeve to clear a spot to look through. There were two beds in the room, one was empty and the other was covered in a pile of old bed sheets. When the pile moved he jumped, smacking his head on the metal rim of the window. The noise drew the attention of the inhabitant, and it rolled over before sliding out of bed. Head bent low it slumped towards the door to see who was there. Transfixed, Stiles gazed in trepidation and the creature slowly advancing towards him. Once it was as close to the door as possible, it looked up. His heart vanished, as though someone had reached into his chest and removed it, leaving a numb empty space where it should be. "Ly-Lydia?" His voice was so quiet he knew she wouldn't be able to hear him. Still, he searched her hooded eyes for some sign of recognition. She stared at him for a moment, taking in his features as a single tear ran down her sallow cheek. Biting her lip, she turned away, shuffling back towards the bed as he stared in anguish.
Not stopping to think, he fumbled with the key card and pushed it into the door lock as fast as he could. The same reassuring beep cried out, and he yanked the heavy door open, hurrying inside. "Lydia?" He was more confident now, his voice returning to him. Lydia whipped around to stare at him, tears running down her cheeks.
"Get out." Her voice was strained and almost a whisper, he could hear how exhausted she was.
Moving forwards slightly, he reached towards her, "Lyds-"
"DONT CALL ME THAT! I SAID GET OUT!" She yelled at him, shoving him in the chest and sending him flying backwards with a blast of hot prickly energy. His back slammed into the edge of the metal bed, and he groaned as he stood up.
"Lydia I know you're upset but if you just come with me-" he stopped when he caught sight of her expression. Pure murder was written across her features, and for a moment he thought she might attack him.
"You're not him. Stiles is dead. You're not him."
"What?" Now he was whispering, feeling as though someone had punched him in the throat, not quite sure how to process what she was saying. He didn't get a chance to question her any further however, as a very angry orderly had appeared at the door. Lydia took one glance at him before sitting back down on her bed, disinterested. Stiles however backed right up, hands held in front of him as some sort of defence. "Look I know I shouldn't be here, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" As he spoke the orderly rushed towards him, tazer gripped firmly in his hand. Stiles yelped as the man pressed it into his neck, sending him crumpling to the ground with his mind surrounded by a dark haze.