Chapter Text
Chapter One
Stiles felt like he couldn't breath. The crushing weight of his guilt and fear. The Nogitsune was gone, but he still could feel the place in his mind where it had taken over. He closed his eyes, but all he saw was death. The blood. The bodies. Allison.
He should have taken her place. She didn't have the body count he did. She was so loved, and she deserved it. How could he ever face Scott or Lydia? He was responsible for the loss of a first love and a best friend. If it had been Scott, god forbid, he'd of gone insane. Guilt washed over him. Stiles thought himself horrible for valuing who he was close to more. Maybe he should of gone insane anyway. Was he more crazy for still being here?
Stiles hears a soft knock and his door click open, "Hey kiddo." His dad's voice was gentle and cautious. Stiles couldn't look at him. He was horrified that his dad had seen him while he was possessed. He feels the bed dip as his dad sit beside his legs. "I know you're gonna need some time after everything, but know that I'm here for you. Anything you need. I'm so glad you're ok." Stiles felt sick. Was he ok? Could he ever be ok again? His dad seemed to understand that Stiles wasn't going to respond. He got up, patting Stiles gently on the leg before leaving him alone again.
Stiles wanted to tell his dad thank you, wanted to reach out and take comfort in his last remaining family. But he couldn't. He felt like he was trapped in his own skin, heavy and tight.
-
Scott and Lydia come the next day. He figures his dad called them. Stiles can't do much but stare blankly between them. He thinks Lydia's eyes look a bit more hollow than they did before. Scott is much less subtle. Stiles feels gutted when he sees the puffy, red skin around Scott's eyes.
They talk to him for awhile. They try to tell him how he wasn't responsible for any of it. Stiles just nods weakly. After about an hour, they give him gentle hugs and leave.
Stiles sits alone again. He gets up at some point, it feels late, and decides he's going to shower. He turns the heat up until his pale skin practically glows red. It does nothing to reach the bone-deep chill he's felt since that first nightmare. He walks back to his room, pulling on thick pajama pants and his red hoodie. He glances at his investigation wall. The red yarn and tacks still hanging limply. A spark of anger flares up in his chest. He tears at the strings, ripping them from the wall. They scatter the floor around him.
Stiles sighs and turns to go back to his bed. He lets out a sharp yelp as he feels a tack stick into his heel. He limps over to his bed, carefully pulling his foot up to see. The tack was pressed flat into his heel. He winced as he pinched it, pulling it out slowly. Blood dripped from the small puncture. His eyes seemed transfixed on the slow droplet forming.
The familiar squeak of his window pulled his attention from the red streaking down his heel. Stiles' eyes met Derek Hale's. He would have questioned why he was climbing through his window in the middle of the night, but he couldn't find the words. Maybe he just couldn't find the motivation to speak. Derek seemed to notice this after a minute, expecting the boy to have much more to say. Stiles saw Derek's expression twist up as he caught a smell in the air.
"Are you bleeding?" Derek looked at him with.. concern? Stiles must really be out of it.
He shrugs and points to the bloody pin on his side table. Derek glances between the tack and the foot Stiles had twisted into his lap. He sighed and grabbed a tissue from Stiles' desk, handing it to him. Stiles pressed it to his heel, looking back up at Derek.
"I wanted to see how you were handling everything," Derek says in a blank tone. Something in Stiles snaps.
"How I'm handling everything?" his voice was dripping in malice, "Everything being torturing and killing people I love and killing half the police department? Oh, I'm doing fan-tastic!"
Derek didn't react, like he expected this. It made Stiles angry.
"Nothing to say? Everyone's been trying to cheer me up. Tell me I didn't do it. That I was being controlled. That I couldn't have one anything to stop it. That it wasn't my fault. But ya know? I already know that. I'm deeply aware that I had no choice in the matter. I know," his voice breaks at the end. "I know..." he whispers softly.
Derek crossed the room over to him, kneeling down to meet his eyes. "I know how you're feeling. You're scared and you feel helpless. I've been there. I know what it's like to have choices you make hurt people you love," he spoke forcefully, but there was a caring edge to his words.
Stiles opened his mouth to protest, but all that came out was a choked sob. Stiles cried. No, he sobbed. He hadn't broken down like this yet. Stiles felt embarrassment burn his cheeks as Derek watched him, but he couldn't stop once the seal broke.
To his surprise, Derek gripped his arm comfortingly. Stiles pressed his palms to his eyes.
"I can't do anything right! I'm just the useless human. I'm so afraid all the time! I just get people hurt, or I hurt them!" Stiles sobbed into his hands.
"That's not true, Stiles. Scott's pack would have died countless times without him. Hell, I would have died a few times had it not been for you. You're brave, and that doesn't come without fear," Derek spoke earnestly. Stiles was stunned by his efforts to comfort him.
"You don't have to do this... I know we're not exactly, well, friends," Stiles mumbled.
Derek sighed, "I know. I haven't been the easiest to work with."
Stiles laughed softly, which felt so foreign to him, "Understatement of the century."
Derek rolls his eyes. He gets up and sits beside Stiles. "I was a bad alpha. I know that. Erica and Boyd barely survived the alpha pack, and that was after I pushed all of them away. I didn't know how to lead them. I get people hurt. I have my entire life," Derek avoided Stiles' eyes s he spoke, "Honestly? I'm glad I lost the power."
Stiles looks at him carefully. He'd never seen this side of Derek. He was so, vulnerable.
"I know it's hard to face them right now, but I know how hard being alone is after... Anyway, if you want someone to talk to or just to be around, I'm here," Derek didn't look at him.
"Someone to fill the void?" Stiles smirks and scoffs. Derek smiles a little.
"Ya. Fill the void," Derek stands up.
"I don't deserve it ya know?" Stiles presses his lips together into a thin line.
"There's no such thing as deserve," Derek says plainly as he leaves the same way he came.
Stiles falls back against his bed. He stares at the ceiling and thinks about what just happened. Maybe he was hallucinating? The concept of not trusting reality sent a shiver down his spine.
-
He fell asleep and found himself in Eichen House. The door locked and refusing to left him out. He heard a cold laugh behind him. Stiles turned slowly and found himself strapped to the bed across from him, but he didn't recognize this version of himself. Deep purple bags settled under the figure's eyes. He wore a wicked smile, and his gaze was fixed on Stiles.
"Fill the void? You can never fill the void! You are the void," the voiced boomed loudly in his ears causing Stiles to wince and turn back to the door. He banged on the solid metal, screaming for them to let him out.
"You know what you deserve, Stiles," the voice rang out behind him, "You know what they should do with you."
Suddenly, Stiles was laying on the hard mattress. His arms and legs were bound. Stiles thrashed and struggled against the cuffs. He screamed until his lungs hurt and his throat was raw.
The figure, the warped version of himself, leaned over his face, "You belong here. You. Are. Void."
Stiles woke up screaming. His dad wrapped him tightly in his arms, as Stiles sobbed. He felt his heart racing in his chest and thumping loudly in his ears. Stiles eventually calmed down, sinking into his dad's arms. He glanced around the room, but his eyes fell on the tack on his side table. The blood was dark and dried now.