Chapter Text
Latin phrase, tr. Between the dog and the wolf:
The blurred period after sunset when your vision fails, when friend becomes foe, safety becomes threat, and you question reality; caught between the known and the unknown.
It was subtle at first.
Stiles spent all of winter break and a week of the new semester after the Nogitsune sleeping for hours without feeling rested. Even though he wasn’t possessed, the nightmares never really seemed to stop. It had been the same dream every time: Stiles had blood on his hands, a huge shadow was chasing him as he ran, and the sound of the Nogitsune followed him until he saw the Nemeton. He always woke up before he touched the tree stump, though, and Stiles wondered if that was just good timing or he wasn’t supposed to ever get there.
What was worse than the nightmares was the feeling he had every time he woke up. It was like someone was watching him, judging him, knowing the secret that he was trying so hard to keep from the world. That when the Nogitsune spat him out, he wasn’t fully himself anymore. His reflection was a stranger to him.
It was definitely his body in the mirror—flesh and bone and human—but it also wasn’t. Moles he had since birth were missing or on the wrong side, a scar from when he fell off his bike had completely healed and left soft, pale skin, and his fingernails and hair seemed to be thicker than they had been before. He had wondered if this was what it felt like when Scott had been bitten, but Stiles couldn’t exactly ask without telling Scott why he wanted to know.
This was a secret he was going to keep to the grave.
His phone alarm went off and Stiles took a slow, steady breath to center himself. Anxiety spiked in his stomach as he thought about going back to school, but he knew he had to. Not just because he was going out of his mind in boredom, but California law dictated he couldn’t miss more days without going back to the doctor. Apparently being possessed by a 1000-year-old Japanese demon wasn’t a good enough excuse for lawmakers.
Stiles made his way down the stairs without looking at his dad’s bedroom—he wouldn’t be there anyways—and went straight to his Jeep. The drive to school was familiar and comforting, but Stiles could still feel the rolling anxiety through his entire body as he saw Scott’s bike. Stiles hadn’t texted him, but Scott also hadn’t texted anything since the initial details of Allison’s funeral.
Maybe it’ll be better in person, Stiles tried to assure himself as he made his way into the building. Scott had always been bad at the whole texting thing if it wasn’t his girlfriend, so Stiles held out hope. As he stepped out of his Jeep, he swore he felt someone staring in his direction. No one seemed particularly suspicious, so he decided to ignore the pit in his stomach.
“Stiles!”
He turned to see Kira at the lockers, the girl running up and throwing her arms around him. The affection surprised him for a moment, but she had always been this way, so he wrapped his arms around her for a hug.
“Hey, hi Kira,” he muttered into her shoulder and looked to see Scott standing a few feet away. Stiles offered a small smile and Scott nodded in response. At least he wasn’t ignored. “How are you?”
Kira pulled back with a little noise, head shaking. “That’s my line! How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
She didn’t seem convinced, but stepped back to let Stiles step closer to Scott. It was subtle, but Stiles watched Scott flinch before he closed the distance and hugged Stiles too.
“Good to see you.” Scott said, pulling away from the hug quicker than he had in the past. Scott barely let his eyes linger on Stiles and instead focused on Kira. “We should get going to class, don’t want Stiles late on his first day back.”
Scott’s smile seemed genuine, but Stiles could see a tightness in it that hadn’t been there before. Stiles honestly couldn’t blame him — Stiles’ face had been the one to stab him and control the Oni that killed Allison. Scott was allowed to grieve in his own way, it just hurt that Stiles couldn’t be there for him.
The rest of the school morning went by quickly, much to Stiles’ relief, and Lydia even joined them for lunch. Like Scott, she had a hard time looking Stiles in the eye at first, but through the day she seemed to warm up to him again. She even gave him a little squeeze of a hug as Stiles left for lacrosse practice. He knew whatever potential there was for them to be more had disappeared the moment the Nogitsune kidnapped and mentally tortured her, but he was glad they still had some sort of connection.
Lacrosse was hard, all the muscles and endurance seemed to just not be there any more and he was panting earlier than he should. Coach hadn’t said anything about it, but he looked a little disappointed that someone who had been starting games last season could barely run laps without needing to gasp for air. Stiles was very aware of his limitations, but this was the first time anyone else saw it. He could feel Scott’s eyes on him from across the pitch, watching his every move.
“Alright listen up! The first game of the year is against Devenford, so I need you all to whip those private school jock heads into the dirt!” Finstock shouted as he slapped the starting players list on the wall of the locker room. Practice had been brutal, but Stiles felt like himself for the first time in a while. “Your captain has made the starting line up, check for your name because I don’t have time to remember them all. Except you, Greenburg, and that’s a bad thing!”
Stiles waited while everyone crowded the sheet, he knew that if Scott had made the list he was going to be starting at least in one of the halves.
“Hey Stiles,” Danny stepped up to Stiles with a smile. “Good to see you back.”
“Danny, shit. I thought you graduated early?”
Danny had a disappointed look on his face, but shrugged. “No, still here. Are you feeling better?”
“Like a truck hit me.” It was jarring to see Danny talking to him so easily, but rumors of him almost dying or having an incurable disease must have spread through the school. People were always nicer when they thought you were dying.
“Better than a bus.” Danny gave a little wave before going to the list and then heading off to the showers.
People had begun to disperse from the list, leaving enough room for Stiles to see where he was. As he scanned for his number, he saw the very harsh truth: Stiles wasn’t on the list. He kept looking for his number in the alternates, frowning as he found it right next to Greenburg’s.
Looking up, he saw Scott starting to head out of the locker room and ran after him.
“Scott, hang on.” Stiles reached to grab Scott’s arm, watching him flinch away from Stiles’ touch before turning around. “I’m not on the starting line up?”
Scott finally looked at him, his eyes seemed a little tired. “I just thought since you spent all that time in the hospital and Eichen, it would seem weird for you to be starting again. You know?”
“Yeah but, I’m fine. Literally right as rain.” Stiles motioned to his body, trying to offer his friend a smile. Scott’s face was still set in the tired expression of someone who just wanted the conversation over.
“Everyone at school thought you were dying, I can’t just… make you a starter without it seeming weird. Coach even asked if you were coming back at all.” Scott explained slowly, keeping his voice down so only Stiles could hear.
It made sense, but it felt like there was more that Scott wasn’t telling him. “You can tell them the machine was wrong, or that I’m really fine. You could be in my corner.”
“I am in your corner!”
“It doesn’t feel like it right now!”
Scott let out a sigh, gripping the strap of his bag tighter. “I’m still having a hard time with Allison’s death, OK? Just—I need some more time.”
“You just had to tell me that, Scott.” Stiles crossed his arms and let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Do you want to do something like a game night? Pizza? Like we used to when—”
“Alone. I need more time alone.” Scott said sheepishly, eyes darting down.
Right.
“Sure, yeah. So what, you’ll text me when you’re ready to see my face again or am I just going to have to guess?”
“Stiles—”
“No I’m actually curious, because it really feels like you’re punishing me for something that was literally outside of my control.” Stiles could feel himself getting upset, taking a few short breaths. “I just could use my best friend.”
Scott shifted from foot to foot, finally looking up with those big brown eyes. “I could too.”
Relief spread through Stiles as Scott moved to wrap him in a hug, the two squeezing each other. They broke apart, Scott promising he’d talk to Coach about putting Stiles on the starting line for the second game and promising a game night in the future.
As they went their separate ways, Stiles felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Maybe he had been over reacting, Scott was hurting too. For a moment, Stiles thought everything was going to be alright.
But this was Beacon Hills.
Stiles sat up straight in his bed, heart pumping as he felt the grip of his nightmares lose hold again.
“Fuck.” Stiles whispered, running a hand through his hair. Slowly he counted his fingers and confirmed he was awake, gazing at the blue of his bedspread. “Fuck.”
He closed his eyes and scrubbed his hands over his face, the same looming feeling of someone watching him washing over his body. Glancing through his fingers at the window, he stared to see if something was there, but nothing moved but the tree outside.
Losing your mind again, Stiles.
Already feeling awake, he stepped out of his room to get something to eat to calm himself. He was surprised to see the kitchen light was on downstairs and knew his dad was home. Or Stiles had forgotten to turn it off, and since Stiles was fairly certain he had turned every light off in the house…
Stiles walked down the stairs toward the light and saw his dad sitting at the dining room table with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a file in the other. For a moment, Stiles debated just going back up, but curiosity always outweighed anything with him.
“New case or an old one?”
His dad didn’t even move to acknowledge him, just sighed softly. “Old. Ish. A re-open of a closed case.”
“Anything I can help with?” asked Stiles, moving to sit down at the chair next to him.
“No, you and Scott did about all you could do.” He tossed the file at Stiles with another sigh, tapping the name Tate on it. “Malia Tate’s run off and no one can find her.”
Ah. Stiles knew that one was coming. When he had last seen her at Eichen, she had punched him for making her shift back. Everything else was a vague memory until his roommate threatened to kill her unless he let the Nogitsune win.
So over all, things he would rather forget.
“She’s probably back in the preserve.” Stiles pointed out and reached for the file. His dad’s hand snapped to keep it firmly planted on the table, shaking his head slowly.
“I don’t want you getting involved, Stiles. Can’t—”
Stiles swallowed as his dad finally looked at him. His eyes were red rimmed with heavy set bags that seemed darker than the last time; his face had more worry lines than before and it looked like he was 60 years old, despite him being only 43.
“—Can’t you just stay out of this whole supernatural?” The pleading tone was slurred as he took a sip from his glass. “You’re a human, Stiles.”
“Dad—”
He waved Stiles off and nursed the rest of his drink, pulling the file off the table and into the box to his left. “Go to bed, Stiles. You’ve got school tomorrow.”
Stiles wanted to argue, but he didn’t think he was going to be able to get anything more tonight based on how empty the bottle was. Giving his dad a squeeze on the shoulder, Stiles walked into the kitchen to grab an apple quickly before walking back up.
A thought crossed his mind. He had told his dad he would drop it, but Stiles hadn’t said Scott would drop it. Grabbing his phone from his bedside table, he shot out a message to Scott quickly.
He knew Scott probably wasn’t up at one in the morning, but at least the idea was out there. His finger hovered over the “frequently contacted” name next to Scott, debating on even reaching out to him. Stiles had reached out a number of times since they last saw one another, but if Scott had been silent, then Derek was the grave.
But maybe Derek could help.
Stiles locked his phone and laid back down on his bed, staring at the ceiling until sleep finally took him again; the same dream playing on a loop.
“Stiles, are you doing anything tonight?” Kira asked as she snapped the top of her sparkling water. “I know it’s Friday, but there’s this winter bonfire thing and I want to go but Scott has to work.”
“I uh, no. Not really doing anything.” He felt a little surprised she was asking him to hang out, his eyes moving to Scott sitting at the table looking over next period's homework. Scott still hadn’t answered the text about Malia Stiles had sent last week, but at least Scott brought it up today in person during homeroom. It wasn’t like Derek had answered him either, but Stiles figured that was a long shot.
Kira’s smile widened. “Then we can go together!”
Stiles looked over to Scott again, the wolf nodding like he had been listening to the whole thing. “Yeah. Yes. Yes we can go together, do you want me to pick you up?”
“I have a ride there, so I can meet you.” She turned to Scott now. “What time does work end for you?”
“Uh, I’ll probably be longer. Deaton wants to do a little Alpha training too for the full moon tonight.” Scott didn’t look up from his book, still comparing the paper he had in his hands to the page open.
Kira knocked their shoulders together, smiling at Stiles. “Then we can get sushi after?”
“You know it.” Stiles grinned as he knocked his shoulder against her. “I’ve been dying to try SushiCo.”
The table froze a little as Stiles used the word dying, Scott finally looking up from his book. It felt like Stiles was walking on one of those glass observation decks that had started to crack; one wrong move and he’d tumble down into the abyss he had just crawled out of.
But Kira pushed through. “My mom says their ginger tastes canned and my dad said he liked it, so I think we’ll need to be the tie breakers.”
Stiles offered her a smile of thanks as the bell rang. Grabbing his bag, he gave them a little wave before heading to his next class: excited for the first time in a long time. As he turned the corner of the courtyard, he caught sight of something standing across the lacrosse field. He stopped, blinking as he saw what looked like a person watching him.
Derek?
No, they were too short to be Derek.
He took another step toward the field, but ran into a gaggle of freshmen walking in front of him. By the time Stiles had untangled himself, the person was gone and Stiles was left wondering if it was real or just another hallucination.
The crowd ooo’d and aah’d as the bonfire sparked to life. Kids bobbed and raced through the crowd with careless abandon, one almost knocking down the popcorn stand that Kira was debating on going to for the last three minutes.
“Just get the popcorn.” Stiles urged, forcing a half smile on his face. When Kira had said bonfire, he thought it was in someone’s backyard at school, not the Beacon Hills annual winter festival. He had forgotten it existed since he actively avoided anything he used to do with his mom.
Kira was new though and she liked these chichi town things according to Kira who kept saying how much she liked these types of things.
“OK, just the caramel one. Do you want anything?”
“No, I’m good.” Stiles could see Kira hesitating about going over there now, so he amended his request. “See if they have the s’mores popcorn.”
Happily, she raced off to the stall to buy them both sweets. Stiles glanced around the little clearing near the preserve, pulling his flannel tighter around his stomach. The bright lights were both a comfort and a bane as he found his eyes moving to the edge of the woods. Was Malia out there right now? He knew she probably didn’t want to be found, but maybe his dreams were telling him to go to the woods. His dreams had meant things in the past…
“Are you OK, Stiles?” Kira reappeared at his side with two bags of popcorn in clear plastic bags, putting one in Stiles’ arms.
“Thinking about Malia.”
Kira nodded. “Scott told me you think she’s in the woods. Do you wanna go for a walk just to see?”
“Don’t you want to see the bonfire?” asked Stiles, giving her a look.
“I mean, it’s pretty.” Kira turned back to look at the huge fire, then back to Stiles. “But if we can help her, we should, right? That’s what Scott would do.”
Stiles nodded, it was what Scott would do. At least what Stiles hoped he would do. Right now Scott seemed to be collapsing in on himself and Stiles didn’t know how to help. “Is he alright?”
Kira bit her lip like she wanted to say something, the sound of the popcorn bag crinkling as she pulled it to her chest. Stiles had been about to tell her to forget it, but shrugged the tiniest bit.
“He sometimes says her name in his sleep. Not all the time, but if he falls asleep during our movie nights or—” she cut off, letting out the smallest of uncomfortable giggles. “But he’s been spending a lot of time with Deaton and I think that helps?”
He nodded at that, squeezing the popcorn in his arms.
“My mom says she was like that when she lost Rhys and I just need to give him space for his emotions.” Kira lifted her head up and smiled. “I think you just have to do the same thing.”
Stiles knew she was right, but it still felt… off. Stiles knew Scott and his actions were evasive in ways Scott had never been before. As much as he hated to think about it, maybe Deaton was saying something to change his mind.
Or maybe the Alpha powers are changing him like they changed Peter and Derek.
“Are we going to find Malia then?” Kira asked, distracting Stiles from his intrusive thoughts.
He nodded and motioned to the parking lot next to the vendors. “We can drop the popcorn off at my Jeep and go look. I need to grab a flashlight.”
Kira grinned and flashed her orange eyes lightly in response.
“Show off,” teased Stiles as they dropped their stuff off. He found a flashlight shoved under the passenger seat and the two took off down one of the trails into the trees. The sound from the festival grew quieter and quieter until the only thing Stiles could hear was the sound of their shoes crunching through dead January leaves.
A sense of Déjà vu fell over Stiles as he realized a year ago, he and Scott had been doing this same exact thing: wandering through the Preserve on the night of the full moon looking for a girl. This time, however, Stiles really hoped she wasn’t dead.
“What is January’s full moon called?” Kira asked as they stepped over branches and roots. They had walked in silence for so long, Stiles had almost forgotten she was there.
“Wolf Moon.” Stiles glanced up at the full moon, stopping for a moment to just stare at it. The sudden sound of a branch snapping echoed through the trees and his stomach twisted in anxiety he couldn’t place. “We should keep moving.”
Another branch snapped and this time Kira turned to flash her eyes in the direction of the noise. “Do you think it’s Malia?”
Stiles didn’t know, but something in the back of his mind said it couldn’t be.
“Malia?” Kira called for the girl, stepping forward toward the noise, hand outstretched.
Everything happened in a blur: the doleful, dreadful noise between a wail of a human and a roar of a beast, gnashing white teeth, claws the size of his arm, eyes and fur so dark Stiles hadn’t even seen it until it was attacking him — and at the last second, someone pushing him out of the way.
Stiles rolled on the ground, gasping as he saw the claws had scraped his shoulder enough to tear fabric, but not draw blood. And yet he could taste blood on his lips. As he sat up, he saw blood on his shirt, eyes widening as he realized whose it was.
He scrambled up to his feet, running to the girl’s side as he saw a stab wound through her stomach. Quickly Stiles pressed his flannel into her wound, swallowing as he looked around for the creature only to see nothing. Silence.
“Kira, Kira you can heal right?” Even in the dim light of the moon, Stiles could see her nod weakly in response, choking on her blood as Stiles lifted her head up. “Just hold on, OK? You’re going to be alright.”
She coughed again, gripping Stiles’ arm as her eyes closed for a moment and then flickered open again. “Scott.”
“Yeah, yeah I’ll call Scott. I’ll get him here, just—”
“KIRA!”
Stiles lifted his head up to see Scott standing shirtless on a hill a little ways up, clearly he had been on a run for the full moon and smelled Kira’s blood. Before Stiles could call him down, Scott ran toward them with supernatural speed and pushed Stiles away hard.
“What is wrong with you!” Scott snapped, pulling Kira into his lap and holding her tightly. “What did you do, Stiles!”
“I didn’t do—” Stiles stood up, hands held up in defense as he realized they were covered in Kira’s blood.
“Get away from her!” Scott snapped, his voice heavy with unshed tears; eyes bright red. He gnashed his teeth at Stiles, clearly letting every emotion bubble to the surface as he held his dying girlfriend in his arms for the second time. “Leave!”
And Stiles left.