Just as a reminder to all those reading: When the text is written in bold and italicized lettering "like this," that is the part of the conversation in sign language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf. I also have no claim on any pop culture references I may use throughout my writings. I only own my OCs. Enjoy the read.

(o.o)

Chapter 2.14

I came to and my head was throbbing. I put a hand up to my temple, pressing in hard as I recalled what had happened. We got to the clinic and then… I gasped, taking in my surroundings: a closet. "Scott!" I shouted, pushing myself off of the floor. I jiggled the hand, but the door wouldn't budge. "Kira! It's not Stiles!" I banged my fist on the door. "Scott!" I gave one more shove on the door and it flew open.

Stumbling out, I was caught by Scott's helpful arms. "Scott!" I pressed with urgency. "It's not him! It's-" I stopped, spotting Stiles on the floor of the clinic. "Stiles!" I rushed towards him, kneeling next to him as he lay unconscious. I put my hands on his face. "Stiles…" I looked up at Deaton. "What happened? Is he okay?"

Deaton nodded. "For now. What I did isn't a cure. I'm not even sure there is one."

"There is one." I swore. "And we'll find it." I turned my attention back to Stiles, gently trying to wake him up. As I did, his eyes blinked open slowly. I smiled at him, feeling my eyes burn with tears. "Hey, you."

Stiles met my eyes for a second before looking around the room. "Oh, god. What did I do?" He landed on me again, but this time at the top of my head. Stiles sat up quickly.

I put my hands out trying to slow him down. "Whoa. Hey, slow your roll."

Stiles, of course, didn't listen. His hand hovered near my forehead and touched it lightly with his fingertips.

I felt the sting where his fingers landed and recoiled, putting my hand to my head. Both his fingers and mine had blood on them. "Oh, damn."

Deaton tapped my shoulder, offering me his hand to help me up. "Let's get that cleaned up, okay?"

I nodded, looking back towards Stiles. "I'll be right back and we'll head home." I got a nod from him and followed Deaton into the next room. I stood, leaning against the counter as he fumbled through some drawers in search of supplies. It never really dawned on me how impressive it was that he managed to be an emissary while keeping his veterinarian cover.

"You're gonna keep looking, right?" I asked. "For a solution?"

Deaton nodded, setting the bandage and alcohol wipes on the counter next to me. He looked up at the cut on the side of my head. "Does that hurt?"

"No. Only when Stiles touched it. Honestly, I didn't even know that he had cut me."

"You should be careful tonight. Just in case you are concussed." Deaton insisted. "I don't think you are, but play it safe."

I nodded at him. "I can take him home, right?"

"Of course," Deaton promised. "I don't know how long that lichen will last though, so just pay close attention to his mental state."

"And you'll keep looking for something permanent?"

The vet furrowed his brow.

"I asked you earlier, but I couldn't tell if you were being as honest as you could have been. One of the best things to have come from my deafness is that I'm very good at reading body language."

"I felt I was trying extra hard to mask my real thoughts."

I sighed. "Just be honest with me, please."

"All I can do is my best, but the odds are not good."

I nodded, still unsure. I could feel something. The problem was I didn't know how to distinguish these feelings. I couldn't figure them out like Carter could. "Thank you."

(o.o)

Stiles parked his Jeep in his driveway twenty minutes later. We'd decided that the two of us would go back to his house so that we could try to make sense of the past couple days. Even though neither of us really knew the path he had been on, it was worth a try.

We arrived at his room and I opened the door to reveal the mess that he had made with the red string and scissors in his bed. My shoulders fell. "You haven't been home since that night, have you?" I asked, turning my head to look at him.

He answered with a simple head shake, glaring at the Nogitsune's handiwork.

"Do you remember doing this?"

"Yeah," Stiles said, lowering his eyes to the ground.

I took a deep breath. "Alright. Looks like we got some work to do." I dropped my bag next to the door and pushed my sleeves up. Taking a step into the room, I took the first strand of red in my grasp and untwisted it from the wall, letting it fall to grab later. I noticed Stiles do the same thing, going in the opposite direction around the room. When we met in the middle, I went for the scissors, pulling them out of the mattress and untying the string from them to toss in the small garbage can under Stiles' desk. I turned looking at Stiles as he stood awkwardly in the center of his room.

"I honestly don't even know why you're still here, right now." Stiles admitted, making me confused. "I'm not even sure why you'd want to be alone with me."

"Stiles, whatever happened tonight, wasn't you."

"It was."

"It wasn't." I stressed, taking a step towards him.

Stiles kissed his teeth. "I remember doing it. Just like I remember all of this." He said, grabbing the scissors from me. "God, I never wanted to hurt you. Ever. And - and I did.

I quickly closed the gap between us, racing for his hands.

Stiles pulled away quickly. "I'm not putting you through whatever you'd see."

"You don't know what you're talking about," I lied, furrowing my brow.

"I know that every time you hold my hand, you close your eyes. Or keep them on one thing." Stiles let out a quick breath, placed the scissors on his nightstand and sat on the edge of his bed. "You're seeing things when you touch me."

I stuttered, trying to keep my voice low. "Because there's a second spirit inside of you, Stiles. One that's fighting for control. When I see things, they aren't about you, but the monster. You're not dying."

Stiles scoffed.

I sat next to him on the bed, grabbing his hands again. Even when he tried to pull away, I held tight, not allowing him to. "Wait," I insisted, looking around his room. When I didn't see anything, I let out a sigh of relief. "Deaton said that it's poisoned, and he's right. Right now it's just you, and me. And I am telling you that everything is going to be okay. We're gonna find an answer."

"But if we don't -"

"Stop it."

Stiles switched the grip on our hands, folding them so he held mine. He brought my hands to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "If we don't, I can't take the risk of hurting you again."

I swallowed. I knew that and I could feel it. I took in a deep breath to stop the tears that I felt building behind my eyes. "So, what do you want to do?" I asked, assuming he had a plan of his own.

"Eichen House."

"The mental health facility that Lydia thought you were in the other night?" The thought of that place drove a shiver up my spine.

Stiles nodded. "The one they locked Barrow in."

"That doesn't seem extreme to you?"

"It's worth it if I knew that you were safe from me. Scott, Kira, Lydia. I don't want to hurt my friends."

I agreed, nodding. "Okay, I'm here for you," I said, even though I felt sick to my stomach about it.

Stiles's eyes cast down to our hands as he lowered them into his lap. "Are you sure?"

"I'm not having this conversation with you again." I insisted.

"I just -" He sighed. "I know we talked about it at the hospital, but that was before I -" Stiles glanced up to the cut that adorned my forehead from where I'd been hurt. He kept one hand around mine and brought his other to hover over the injury with his thumb.

"Before the Nogitsune hit me. Not you. That's the last time I'm letting you confuse the difference."

The corner of Stiles' mouth twitched in a quick smile.

"We'll get you into Eichen, and Scott and I will be figuring out how to get you out of here. Then when we do, we are going to have our Harry Potter marathon that you keep promising me. I'll make butterbeer milkshakes and we'll quote the parts that we love while also telling each other the IMDB trivia we've got memorized."

Stiles leaned forward, moving his hands to hold the sides of my face as he kissed me hard.

I relaxed in his grip and kissed him back without a second thought. I didn't think I'd ever been kissed the way Stiles had. Whatever he was trying to convey to me about how he felt for me, I felt it. Every ounce of it.

We pulled apart and he leaned his forehead on mine. I closed my eyes, enjoying having him back, even if it was just for a little while. I let out a giant breath. "You are…" I chuckled quietly, shaking my head. "Something else completely, Stiles." I pulled away from him, grabbing his hands from around my neck and holding them in my lap.

Stiles narrowed an eye at me. "That's a compliment, right?"

"Yes, I said with a laugh. "It is." I glanced up at him, swallowing my fear. "So, you're gonna tell your dad tonight?"

Stiles nodded. "The sooner I get in there the less anxiety I'll feel."

"You're forgetting you're an entire platter of anxiety all by yourself, Stiles."

"True, but -"

"I know. I'm just trying to joke about the situation."

"Takin' a page out of my book?"

"I am. Is it working?" I smirked.

"Sort of."

"What about Scott? Are you gonna tell him?"

Stiles shrugged. "I don't know if I will."

"You don't think this is something he'll want to know?" I questioned him. "He's gonna find out when you don't show up to school."

"You can tell him when I'm behind the gates." Stiles insisted. "I don't think he'll react like you. I think he'll try and stop me. And I know that I have to do this. It's just -"

"Hey," I shook my head, "You don't have to justify yourself to me. I get it. I'd also just like to cover my ass when it comes to your best friend."

Stiles nodded, holding my hands tightly. I did a quick glance around the room just to check and still found it clear of any visions. Stiles pat my hands for my attention. "Can you do one thing for me while I'm there?"

"Anything," I said quickly.

"Look after my dad. I know he'll be a wreck. I don't like the idea of leaving him alone. Especially after how things happened with my mom."

I met his eyes as they glazed over with the hint of tears he was trying not to shed. "Absolutely."

Stiles' eyes darted towards his bedroom door as if he had heard something. He met my gaze, probably sensing my confusion. "My dad is home," he said, his hands beginning to shake.

I grabbed his hands in mine. "Whatever happens, I'm here."

"I know." He took a deep breath before pushing off of his bed, pulling me with him. The pair of us walked down stairs, seeing not just his father, but mine as well.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, signing.

Dad raised his own hands to sign, looking back at the sheriff. "Noah and I were discussing some things."

"Oh?"

Sheriff nodded, looking at his son.

"You ready to get home?" Dad asked.

"I was gonna stay tonight and hang back tomorrow with him," I said, my eyes glancing towards Stiles. "School isn't a good idea right now and -" I paused, not wanting to be the one to drop the bomb about Eichen House to his dad. "There's a lot that has to be talked about."

"You gotta go to school, CJ." The sheriff insisted with a shake of his head.

"And I will." I promised. "I've only missed a couple days this semester. A few more wouldn't hurt."

Dad waved his hand. "Your teachers are starting to call me about you."

I scoffed. "I don't even know why. I'm significantly ahead of everyone in all of my classes. Even Lydia. I don't even pay attention to the lessons they're doing because they've already given me the work."

Stiles reached for me. "Maybe they're right."

"No," I said instantly. I looked to my dad, letting out a stressed breath. "I'm staying," I said, using only my hands.

"CJ…" Dad trailed off shaking his head.

He just didn't get it. "There's so much more to this that I can't talk about with you right now."

"You have to be responsible here."

"I am." I stressed. "I have to stay."

"I can't have you going back to how things were. I can't have you shut off if things get bad."

"They won't. It's not like that anymore." I wish he would just believe me. Dad seemed like he had more to say, but he knew that I was just as stubborn as he was. We could be fighting about this for a while, but I wasn't going to be the one to back down. "I'm the only one who can tell when it's not really him."

Sheriff took a half step forward, trying to ease his way in our conversation. "Hold on, I'm lost here."

"You told me to feel for him and I can. If anything I'm looking out for everyone. Including you and the sheriff." I felt a hand on my lower back, finding Stiles next to me, a questioning look on his face. I let out a breath, knowing how incredibly lost with how quickly I was signing.

"Who's gonna look after you?" Dad asked.

I shook my head. "He had the chance to hurt me a lot more than he did, and he didn't. I'm not afraid of him."

Dad studied me, then his eyes flickered to Stiles. My boyfriend's eyes were locked on me though. I could feel his gaze.

"We can save him, Dad."

He let out another sigh, looking towards the sheriff. "If you're okay with it, CJ can stay."

I bit my lips between my teeth to keep from smiling and turned to the sheriff.

"What just happened?" Sheriff asked with an amused grin.

"Is that a yes?" I questioned, grabbing Stiles' hand in mine.

Sheriff studied his son first, then my dad. He let out his own breath, nodding his head.

"Great, um," I started, knowing the conversation that was coming next. I looked at Stiles, getting his approval to start it. "There's something else we have to talk to you about."

(o.o)

We had one day. I didn't waste it sleeping, and neither did the sheriff. Waves of exhaustion passed through me throughout our time together, but if Stiles wasn't sleeping, I wasn't either. The four of us spent the day together. We went back and forth between watching movies and doing a few rounds of Call of Duty. I was surprised my dad took the day off for this. Surprised, but grateful. My dad was a great dad; one of the best, but Stiles wasn't his family. Taking this time to be here for me, for Stiles, said a lot about the person that my father was.

That night, I sat in the back of the Sheriff's car while the man drove us to Eichen House. Noah wasn't particularly happy about the idea of admitting Stiles. In fact, his face got incredibly red the second that Stiles said the words. The amount of feelings that washed across the man's face in that minute after sharing the news was innumerable. I was sure what he felt was something I have in the past couple of days. Eventually, we were able to agree that what Stiles was more important, and ultimately, for the best.

Still, I was arguing with myself about whether or not to tell Scott. He deserved to know given that Stiles was his best friend. It didn't feel right that he didn't know. If it were Lydia, I would want to know. Which is why while we were on our way to Eichen House, I texted Scott.

The sheriff stopped the car and we all looked up at the iron-wrought gate like it was something out of a horror movie. My stomach fell just looking at it, and immediately my brain flashed back to when Stiles had sleep-walked his way through the woods.

Stiles shared a solemn look with his father before the three of us got out of the car. He looked up at the gates like he could hear them calling for him.

I took a couple of hurried steps to catch up to him, grabbing his hand. He looked down at me, the corner of his mouth twitching for just a moment. Stiles and his father turned when I noticed a light shining towards us. A single light, like a dirt bike would have. "Scott?" I questioned out loud.

"You told him?" Stiles accused.

I shrugged. "He needed to know."

The bike skidded to a half and Scott shed his helmet as he approached the three of us. He looked at Stiles. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Stiles wanted to avoid something like this," Stiles's father shared.

Stiles shook his head. "It's only seventy-two hours."

"This is the same place where Barrow came from. The guy who had a tumor inside him filled with flies."

"That doesn't mean Stiles will have the same fate." I explained. "We're just trying to give ourselves more time to figure things out."

Scott shook his head, still not liking the idea. He looked at the sheriff. "You don't know everything yet."

"I know enough," The sheriff promised. "Nogitsunes, Kitsunes, Oni, or whatever they're called."

Stiles was impressed. "Wow, that was actually all surprisingly correct."

The sheriff took a step forward with his hand outstretched for emphasis. "Scott, I saw an MRI that looked exactly like my wife's. And it terrifies me. I'm headed down to L.A. tomorrow to talk to a specialist."

"Then why are you putting him in here?" Scott asked.

"He's not," Stiles said, gaining Scott's attention. "It was my decision."

Scott looked shocked at the revelation. "I can't help you in there," the alpha swore. This is what I wasn't ready for. The sense of betrayal that he must be feeling. We've been doing our best to try and figure out what's wrong with Stiles, but it wasn't enough. The idea of putting it in someone else's hands was difficult for Scott to grasp.

"And I can't hurt you," Stiles insisted, which was the main point in his favor. He looked down at me, confirming that he was talking to me, too.

"Deaton's got some ideas. Argent's calling people. We're gonna find something. And if we can't…" Scott hesitated, probably not wanting to share what he mentioned in the MRI room the other day.

"If you can't -" Stiles stopped himself. He pressed his lips together, dropping my hand and taking a step towards his best friend.

I furrowed my brow, unable to see what Stiles was saying. As much as it pained me to stay in my place, it must have been important for him to keep it a secret.

Scott's eyes landed on me as Stiles took a step back to my side.

I looked up at Stiles as his eyes were serious. I glanced over at his dad and the man gestured up to the building. "Uh, I'm gonna stay here with Scott until you're out if that's okay." I asked, checking with Stiles.

Stiles nodded, turning. He hugged me tightly around my shoulders. My arms held his waist, wishing that he'd never have to let go. As Stiles pulled away, he put a hand on the side of my face, brushing his thumb along my cheekbone. He pulled away, fisting his free hand and pulling it to his chest. "Trust me?"

"Always."

Stiles nodded again and leaned down to kiss me once. It was just once, but still with his father and Scott looking on, it still brought a blush to my face. When he pulled away, I watched as the pair walked up the stairs and into the building before I turned towards Scott.

"I should have asked you if you didn't mind staying with me for a few minutes," I admitted after both Stilinskis were out of earshot.

Scott shook his head. "It's okay, I don't mind." There was a small lull in the conversation for just a moment before Scott continued. "Thanks for telling me."

"Of course," I said, nodding.

"What do you think is really going on?"

"Honestly, I don't know," I shook my head with a shrug. "What I do know is that after Deaton injected that stuff into Stiles, I didn't see the Nogitsune when I touched him. I can't explain it, but there's something about Stiles when he's not Stiles that just -" I put my hand to my chest, feeling the heavy beating.

"I think I know what you mean," Scott glanced at me curiously.

"Chemo-signals?"

"Yeah, sorry," he said shyly.

"No, it's okay. In this situation it helps." Still, I tried immediately to push the feeling away. "I'm gonna stay the night at Stiles' house. Meditate or something in his room to see if I can get a lock on whatever it is my power wants to reveal."

"You think you have your stuff figured out?"

"I wish. I've got ideas. Advice from my dad, but it's still all speculation until I actually see something that comes true." I admitted. "Carter's ability seems to be more simple than mine is, so his journals are no help."

"Damn."

"Tell me about it." I studied him as he stared up at the mysterious building. "I want you to know that I have all the faith in the doctor that the sheriff and I are going to see tomorrow."

"You're going with him?"

I nodded. "Doctor Mathis was my doctor after I lost my hearing. Since we thought the deafness was neurological and not supernatural, I was in his office a lot trying to figure things out." I said, pointing to my head. "He's used my case in a study that he got published, so he owes me one."

"Good." Scott grinned. "Thanks for doing that."

"You don't have to thank me for helping Stiles. I -" I stopped myself from admitting an unknown feeling to Scott. I liked Stiles. A lot. But did I love him? I wasn't sure. "Stiles means just about the same to me as he does you. Plus, I know that it's the Nogitsune that's possessing him most of the time, but I think both he and the sheriff need to know for sure."

(o.o)

The sheriff was always a man of few words and the drive to Los Angeles was no different. I didn't mind the silence because it gave me time to research frontotemporal dementia so that I might have some input in the conversation with Doctor Mathis. I also spent time with copies of Allison's research on Kitsunes and Nogitsunes, being sure to learn everything that I can from the pages.

When we arrived at the hospital, I took the lead entering the familiar hallways. I arrived at his opened door and peeked inside, knocking on the doorway.

The man looked up from his desk and showed a large smile. "CJ!" Mathis said, signing my name. "It's good to see you again."

"You, too, Doctor Mathis. Hard at work I see."

"Always." He got up from his chair and walked around his desk, joining us by the door. "Is everything okay? When I spoke to your dad the other day, it seemed important that we talk."

"I'm fine. There are just some things that I wanted to talk to you about." I said, skirting around the truth.

"Sure. How's everyone?" Mathis asked, probably still sensing that something was wrong. It had been a while since I had to see Doctor Mathis. "Is Carter still well on his way to becoming a doctor?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but hesitated for a second. "Um, actually Carter died. In a car accident a couple months ago." I avoided looking towards the sheriff. Stiles knew about my brother, but I was unaware of whether or not he shared that.

Mathis rubbed his fist in a circle on his chest. "I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"We moved to Maryland after Carter got accepted into Johns Hopkins, so it wouldn't have been something to cross your desk." I admitted. "I swore Mom sent out something, so, I'm sorry you didn't know."

"I'm sad that it's a graduation announcement I'll never get. Your brother was very personable. He would have made an excellent doctor."

My heart dropped into my stomach and I glanced back at the sheriff to keep me grounded. "He definitely would have."

"I'm sorry. We've been rude. Doctor David Mathis." Mathis held out his hand towards the sheriff for him to shake. He glanced at the badge of Stilinski's jacket. "Sheriff…?"

"Stilinski. Good to meet you." He answered.

"The good sheriff, here, is my boyfriend's father. I - We were wondering if you wouldn't mind taking a look at a couple of brain scans for us." I informed him. "Just a quick look, maybe off the books. We technically already have a diagnosis, but I wanted to be sure that it's the right one."

"Absolutely. Here, come in." He said, stepping out of the doorway and gesturing with his arm into his office. The sheriff and I took seats in the chairs in front of his desk while Mathis moved around it to sit on his own. "May I?" Mathis questioned, gesturing to the folders that were in Noah's hand.

The sheriff held out one of the folders. "The doctor at Beacon Memorial did an MRI a few days ago. He told us about frontotemporal dementia."

"Neither of us like that diagnosis. We're just nervous that maybe they weren't right." I insisted. "We're not in denial or anything."

"Aren't you?" Mathis signed with a joking smirk. He opened the folder, looking at the scans. He studied them, turning them in his hands. "The amount of deterioration is significant. I don't know a lot about this particular disease, but it is much like what I recognize." The doctor put the photos down on the desk. "Mieczyslaw Stilinski." He finger-spelled slowly, probably making sure he didn't mess up. "That's not you, is it?"

The sheriff blinked once. "My son."

Mathis took in a breath as he realized. His gaze drifted to me for just a moment. "I'm sorry."

"My wife also had the disease," Noah shared. "She died of it, so I hoped my son didn't also get it." He gave the doctor the other folder.

The doctor looked those over, too, but ultimately he sighed, making my stomach hurt. "I am sorry, but it seems like the original diagnosis looks correct, but again, I can't say for sure."

I let out a defeated breath, staring at the scans. Even I could tell that Stiles' scans were much like his mother's. Still, I had the hope that they weren't.

Doctor Mathis looked at his watch. "I've got to go make some rounds. I'll give you guys a few minutes, but I do want to talk about this more, okay?"

Sheriff stood as the doctor did, holding out his hand. "Thank you for agreeing to even see us, Doctor Mathis."

Mathis nodded. "Of course. Not a problem at all."

"Thanks, Doctor Mathis." I said before watching him leave.

The sheriff sighed, sitting back in his chair. He rubbed his face with his hand in frustration.

"I'm sorry he didn't tell us anything different, Sheriff. I know we were hoping -"

"It's not your fault, CJ" Noah shook his head. "I'm grateful that you and your dad arranged this for us."

I stood up, gathering the two pictures and the folders. I furrowed my brow, studying them. They had gotten mixed up. I had to look at the names to see the difference. "Wait," I said, holding them out side by side. I turned towards the sheriff. "Have you ever looked at these at the same time? Next to each other?"

Sheriff shook his head. "I don't think so. Why?"

"Last night, you were talking to Scott. You said that Stiles' scans looked exactly like your wife's."

"I remember."

"You were right, Sheriff. These scans aren't just similar. They're exactly the same."

The sheriff got up from his chair, looking over the picture. His face changed when he noticed the difference. "What does this mean?" He asked, glancing at me.

"I don't know. Not really. But it does mean that Stiles isn't dying of dementia. It means this was a trick."