Chapter Text
Stiles woke with a cold weight settling in the pit of his stomach.
Panic rattled through his bones.
There was a heaviness in the air.
A ghostly screaming echoed in his mind, leaving his body trembling like it had been real.
-
“How long do I have to do this?” Stiles asked hesitantly, holding the cane in one sweaty hand and holding his father’s hand in the other.
“Until you feel ready to let go of my hand.”
“I think we’ll be here all day before that happens, Dad, honestly,” Stiles laughed. He had tried to remember the last time he had gone for a walk with his dad on this specific trail. Maybe it had been years. Since Scott turned, Stiles had been consumed into the supernatural world, and he found himself in one too many dangerous situations that often put his and his friends’ safety at risk. Still, he would not have it any other way. He found his pack.
But he knew has not spent enough time with his father.
When Noah had suggested that Stiles join him, he took the opportunity graciously.
Stiles knew he could not hide how his body vibrated from his father, as if he were about to jump out of his skin.
“Take your time, Stiles,” Stiles wondered how his father could still be so optimistic despite what they had endured over the last year.
Stiles and his father walked slowly down the paved road on a Saturday morning. Noah’s hand felt rough and big in Stiles’s grip, but he held his son’s hand firmly. Stiles agreed to join his father for his morning walk as an excuse to get out of the house.
“How was your meeting yesterday?” Noah asked him as Stiles listened to the gravel beneath their feet. His footsteps moved more quickly than his father’s, who kept a careful, calm pace.
“Dad,” Stiles laughed. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Melissa suggested we practice walking by engaging in a conversation,” Noah admitted sheepishly. “She said talking might distract you.”
“For you, or for me, Dad?” Stiles smiled. Noah let go of his hand momentarily and rested his hand on Stiles’s head, ruffling his hair slightly.
Noah laughed and shrugged. For a moment, the world felt a little lighter. The pain and uneasiness lifted from their chests as father and son held each other and walked together down the long road.
“It went great,” Stiles answered his question. “The therapist suggested I spend more time outside, to get - uh, fresh air and that,”
“I was happy you could join me this morning,” Noah said, squeezing his hand. “This was good. For both of us.”
Stiles nodded. From Noah being kidnapped by the Darach, who turned out to be Jennifer Blake, to the Alpha Pack attack, and then Stiles' recent kidnapping and vision loss, the Stilinski men did not have the best of luck this year.
“Thanks, Dad,” Stiles smiled. “I needed this too.”
“Let’s keep going,” Noah said. Stiles hoped this was the last of their troubled times, and the thing that took him was really gone, so that they could move on. And Derek could also move on. “I got you, kiddo,”
-
“I hope you brought snacks,” Stiles groaned as he hopped into the passenger seat.
“I did,” Stiles heard Scott dig around the plastic bag, and a bag of chips pushed into his hands. “I got you Taki’s and some soda.”
“How long is the ride?”
“Isaac said about two hours outside of town,” Stiles replied as he turned on the vehicle. Stiles never would have let anyone else drive his Jeep, even in an emergency, but Scott turned out to be a careful driver. He had his own vehicle that they could have used for this trip, but Stiles insisted. He would never be able to drive it again, so he entrusted his beloved Jeep to his best friend to take care of.
“My dad wants us back by dinner, so we should get going.”
It took Stiles days to convince Scott to take him to the lake. Derek had mentioned the lake house a few times over the years, and Isaac had been kind enough to borrow the keys for Scott and Stiles. He begged Scott to take him there for the afternoon, as it was only an hour away from Beacon Hills.
It turns out Scott only agreed because Isaac wanted to join.
“Isaac will meet us there?” Stiles asked after they pulled out of the driveway.
“Yeah, he said he wanted to clear the grounds before we got there.”
Stiles could not help but roll his eyes. He had given up on his fight with Derek to stop them from searching the forest. Derek only agreed to let them have days off now that school started again. Aiden and Ethan had left a few days before, and Scott mentioned they would return in a few weeks.
Scott was clearly hiding something from him, but Stiles resisted the urge to pressure Scott to give it up.
He still felt guilty over threatening Scott the other day and demanding that he bring him to the woods, using his friendship as leverage. Scott insisted it barely phased him, knowing that Stiles had a moment of desperation, but Stiles was still remorseful. So the idea of an afternoon at the lake came to Stiles a few days ago, setting his plan to make it up to Scott as an apology. Even though Scott insisted it was fine, Stiles wanted to apologize in a way that felt less awkward for both of them, even if it meant three grown men relaxing at a cottage on the lake.
It also gave Stiles another reason to spend the afternoon with his best friend.
-
“What took you guys so long?” Isaac greeted them as they pulled into the driveway of Derek’s family cottage.
“Stiles made me drive below the speed limit,” Scott muttered as he waited for Stiles to step out of the vehicle. “I think he’s lying about his blindness. He yelled each time I went over by half a mile.”
“How would you even know he’s going over the speed limit, Stiles?” Isaac asked as he approached them.
“I know my baby,” Stiles rolled his eyes as Isaac grabbed his arm and they walked up to Derek’s family cottage. “She only listens to me.”
“You’re hilarious,” Isaac remarked sarcastically as they entered the home. “This place is stunning.”
“Wish I could see it,” Stiles whispered and breathed in the air. The house smelled stale. He could imagine no one had been up here in ages. “Can you guys open a few windows?”
“On it,” Scott responded as Stiles heard him from across the room. Stiles reached out and walked carefully. He felt the couch, nearly tripped over something he could not make out, and then found the back door.
He felt an odd sense of familiarity, like he had been here before. Derek must have described this place to him, explaining why he felt aware of his surroundings. Stiles and Scott were opening the windows when they appeared to have noticed that Stiles was not inside with them.
“It sounds so peaceful here,” Stiles hummed.
Stiles took off the cloth wrapped around his eyes and immediately felt the gentle breeze brush against his skin. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, listening to the water and the trees.
The doctor said some people with vision impairment had light perception. They could see between the light and dark, and often flashes of colour. Sometimes, Stiles could see flashes of white in the mornings when he felt the warm sun cut through his blinds.
But right now, as he stood in front of the body of water, it was a complete and total blackness.
“I’ll grab the cooler,” Scott broke the silence.
-
“Chris and the twins said they’d be back in a couple of days,” Isaac said in the kitchen as Stiles inched slowly behind the wall.
“Allison mentioned her dad went, I was actually surprised to find out Chris willingly went with the twins,” Scott replied.
“Yeah,” Isaac agreed. “He said something about the other hunters and an attack, and that one of them was killed,”
“From what?” Scott asked. Stiles pressed his back against the wall.
“From one of the other hunters, but the guy is swearing it wasn’t him.”
“What? That’s crazy.”
“Chris explained that the guy who was killed by one of their own,” Isaac went on. Stiles had no idea why he was listening to their conversation while hiding behind the wall. But Stiles felt it, and he knew that every time he was near or entered the room, they stopped talking. Not only did it piss him off, but it also hurt him.
“I think they went to see what was going on because it happened so close to Beacon Hill.”
“What?” Stiles could not help himself.
“How did you do that?” Isaac chuckled in disbelief.
Stiles ignored him. “There was an attack?”
Stiles was met with silence, and Stiles nearly lost it. Scott must have seen the look on his face as he answered, “One person died a few towns over, but no one thinks it’s related to what happened to you.”
“But you said Chris and the twins went to check it out.”
“We haven’t had any… developments in over four months, Stiles,” Isaac spoke this time. “I think Derek and the others are pulling at threads right now. We also want to make sure-”
“Nothing comes back to get me,” Stiles finished and rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “I get it.” He found a seat where they sat around the kitchen island. There was another stretch of silence.
“And I think Derek mentioned driving down with Deaton to New M—” Isaac grunted, and his words cut short by what sounded like a sharp cough from Scott and smack hitting somewhere on somebody’s body.
“New Mexico?” Stiles asked.
“Something like that, but I don’t know.” Isaac quickly added. “Maybe unrelated and pulling at threads as I said.”
“How’s Derek?” Stiles asked after taking a deep breath.
“Uh - better,” Isaac stammered. Stiles was not sure how to feel about that answer. He has not seen Derek since that night. He also was not sure why he hoped Derek would drop by and ask if he was okay, so that Stiles would know Derek was also fine. “He spends most of his time in the study lately.”
“Oh?”
“Deaton comes to see him now and then, but he spends most of his time alone out in the woods or in the study,” Isaac explained quietly, and Stiles hung to every word. “At least he listens when I tell him to eat, but I doubt he sleeps often.”
“Does he know we’re here?”
“Of course,” Isaac answered quickly. “He made me swear I would call if - ”
“Can we stop talking about Derek and sit by the lake?” Scott interrupted.
“Seriously, Stiles, how did you do that?” Isaac asked them as Scott gently took Stiles’s hand as they shuffled around the kitchen island. Isaac grabbed the s’more kit they had decided to share for lunch.
“What?” Stiles asked him.
“I swear I didn’t hear you come down from the washroom,” Isaac answered, and Scott agreed. Stiles only shrugged.
“Thank you, Isaac,” Stiles said softly as Scott helped him sit down as they made their way to the patio. “I want to know what’s going on with everybody, but for some reason, no one tells me anything these days. So I appreciate you for telling me what the others are doing.”
“Stiles-” Scott started, and Stiles heard the guilt in his voice.
“I know I can’t do things like I used to anymore,” Stiles raised his palm, asking Scott to let him continue. “I can’t seem to do anything anymore, but I want to help…”
They stayed quiet. Isaac took it upon himself to start making s'mores as they sat around the fire pit. “I’m sorry, Stiles,” Scott was the first to break the silence.
“I just want to feel normal,” Stiles whispered. Maybe it was the therapy. He wanted them to listen to him and understand how he felt - or he was going to go insane. “Updating me about what’s going on with the pack is what I need, hearing about what’s going on with everybody. I miss everyone.”
“We miss you too, Stiles,” Isaac admitted, his words cut through Stiles’s like a razor. He wished he could believe that, which was so odd and disheartening that he would not. He knew they cared for him as he did. They would not be risking their lives searching those woods as they had been for the couple of months.
But for some reason, their absence cut through him like a rejection. Their absence or lack of communication with him felt like abandonment.
-
“Thanks,” Stiles said finally as they helped him to his front porch. They made it home just in time for supper. Stiles had reminded them that he had promised his dad he would sit down with him more often.
“For what?” Scott asked him.
Stiles shook his head, and he felt a lump in his throat. He could not find the words as he tried to figure out what he could say to them. The dread in the pit of his stomach felt heavier. The feeling he woke with never disappeared, as if it waited for him to be alone.
Like it had been watching him.
“We’ll see you tomorrow, Stiles,” Isaac hugged him first and then Scott.
“After school,” Scott added as he pulled him into his arms. “We have school tomorrow, so I’ll come back then,”
Stiles clung to his friend and hugged him longer than he had realized. Since school started, Scott had stopped staying over. Stiles had been the one to insist that he stay home, especially now that school had started. He was regretting that decision now.
The loneliness in his heart enveloped him like a hug - an old friend welcoming him.
“Yeah,” Stiles nodded. “See you then.”
“Stiles, are you okay?” Scott whispered, and Stiles nodded. It had not been the first time Stiles was thankful for the cloth wrapped around his head, as he felt his tears wet the fabric.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
-
Stiles woke up screaming.
A piercing, sharp pain cut through his chest - slicing him open.
“No, no, no,” he sobbed. His hands flew helplessly toward a void - grasping at nothing. He grabbed his chest, but he felt nothing - no wound or wetness. He was not hurt. He was physically fine. “Please,” he pleaded through jagged, broken sobs that tore at his throat. “Please, no.”
He was still in his room.
But he knew.
He knew someone was dying.