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Summary
The person doesn’t respond, instead they move closer at an eerie and unhurried pace, as if there aren’t buckets of water falling to the ground right now. But the rain is probably the least of their concerns because it just bubbles around them, never seeming to actually make contact. It isn’t until they get closer that Stiles realizes he knows the person.
It’s… him. Stiles is looking directly at a mirror of himself.
His chest clenches. They’re only about ten feet away from each other now. Stiles stares at uh – Stiles B – and frantically covers as many of his bases as he can. Did he touch something at Deaton’s? No, and even if he did he’d only been working on a binding spell today, nothing nearly as serious as a duplication spell or call for a golem. Is he awake? Yeah. Well. Wait.