Chapter Text
Fear was coursing through his body like a toxin, paralyzing his limbs, pressing down on his lungs. The air around him was so cuttingly cold that his fingers felt numb. His breath was forming puffs of air.
He knew the signs by now. Now he regretted sending Burly away before checking his surroundings. He might not have been the only one who had crossed over.
With no other option, Stiles dashed into the nearest hiding place, which turned out to be a small bathroom. He held his breath, blood rushing in his ears and listened. The footsteps were coming closer. Slow and dragging. He pressed his hand against his mouth.
The darkness felt oppressing and thick like smoke. He needed to get out of here.
Bathrooms have mirrors, he thought. And mirrors are not safe right now.
But the mirror, so he realized, was also his only way out of this mess. He had brought someone over. Which meant that he could probably do it again.
The wooden floorboard creaked. He couldn't tell how close the noise was. He wanted to think it was getting further away from his hiding place.
Staying in here made him a sitting duck. He knew that but, still, he couldn't get his muscles to move. His mind raced a mile a minute.
What were the options? Stay here. Wait. Could be the safer option. No one had found him yet. He was safe as long as it stayed that way.
But what to do if he was found? He was too weak now to defend himself outright should someone confront him face to face. He had no tricks left and no time to think of new ones.
Stiles wanted to curse in frustration, and he would have if he didn't have a hand pressed against his mouth to prevent any noise from escaping. There wasn't really a choice, was there?
***
They tried to move through the town as inconspicuously as they were able to and failed spectacularly at it. Most of them were dressed in black from head to toe, Laura was stalking through the night as if the devil was on her tail, Jordan was clutching an EMF detector that made a cracking noise now and then, Derek was carrying a katana strapped to his back, and Boyd attracted attention based on his body mass alone. Their endeavour was a lost one right from the start.
"It's a miracle no one has called the police on us," Boyd stated exactly what Derek was thinking.
"Who would? I haven't seen a person for over ten minutes." Laura sent Derek a smug look as if she wanted to prove him and not Boyd right.
"We're past the town centre already. We're moving towards the warehouse district, so it's hardly surprising that no one is around," Boyd pointed out.
"Are we?" Jordan looked up from the display of one of his little gadgets. "That is not good. Not good at all."
Derek allowed himself to roll his eyes. "We've got all the other areas covered, so why wouldn't we head there next? Your cult has already met there once, too."
Jordan looked at Derek as if he couldn't quite believe he was real. "This," he held up his detector, "measures electromagnetic fields - in other words, it detects ghosts. It'll probably go crazy once we get near the warehouses since we already know of the ghost activity there."
"How is that bad?" Laura asked.
"That isn't the bad part. We aren't the only ones aware of the paranormal activity there. There's a good chance the Order is already there. It's their only lead so far."
"Even more reason to go. I'm not underestimating them any longer. They might already know more than we do," Derek cut in.
"We - They have already tried exorcisms after the last incident," Jordan winced as he brought up the pack's first meeting with the Order, "but none were successful. Something more powerful is keeping the spirits trapped here. It is probably smart to start the investigation with the loose ends."
"Great," Boyd mumbled. "We're heading to the place where evil spirits are trapped and used as puppets. Can't imagine what could go wrong."
"Oh, sunshine, you spent way too much time around Derek," Laura commented and sighed theatrically.
As they approached the warehouses, dark clouds gathered in the sky, dipping the world in darkness. The wind, almost non-existent only a few minutes ago, had picked up speed and was now bending trees to its will. Empty carton boxes were sliding along the ground. The air was damp and charged with electricity. A storm was coming.
"That's not ominous at all," Laura and Boyd said simultaneously, the only difference being the smile on Laura's face while Boyd was rolling his eyes.
Derek choose to ignore them both and focused on updating the other teams on the change in their destination. He received only one answer. He tried again to get through to the other teams but all he heard in reply was static. Frustrated, he gave up and swore under his breath. As he looked up, he saw the expectant looks of his team members.
"I could only get through to Peter. The others aren't answering."
"There's still a chance that they got the message and are just unable to answer." Laura placed a hand on her brother's shoulder. "They're gonna be fine."
Despite not having as much faith as his sister did, Derek nodded. "Okay, let's get a move on."
Jordan looked up from his little detector. "It's not looking good at all. There are so many readings, it can't even detect all of them anymore." Instead of the occasional cracking, the detector gave a sound like static. "I've never experienced anything like it. It's like all the spiritual energy has gathered at this spot."
"Where would you say it's coming from?" Derek asked.
Jordan walked a few steps towards the first warehouse, then listened to his detector and shook his head, heading for the next one. He did this until he came to a satisfactory conclusion. The others followed, taking in the last warehouse, the one where they had met for the first time.
Derek gave them the signal, and then they moved, the team split up into pairs. Changed into their beta forms, Laura and Boyd went around to find the back entrance. Jordan packed away his device and reached into his pocket for his gun. Derek raised his brows but did otherwise not comment on the unexpected weapon. He unsheathed his katana and approached the entrance carefully, always listening for any noise. Suddenly, it was deadly quiet. Even the harsh whistle of the wind sounded muted. Derek shared a brief look with Jordan, who nodded, then they opened the door and went in.
***
It felt wrong to move along so cautiously, so afraid that one step could be the wrong one. It felt like they were traipsing through a minefield. All he wanted to do was do something. Run. Act. Instead, he was walking through the town as if he were taking a stroll. He hated it.
His fingers itched for violence. For what, against what or whom he couldn't say. It was helpless anger not directed at anybody.
"Keep calm, for fuck's sake."
"I am calm," he protested.
Erica snorted. "You're twitching like a bride before her wedding night."
Scott opened his mouth to defend himself when he suddenly became aware of her exact wording. His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Isn't that... I mean, that sounds misogynistic. Should you be saying something like that? Doesn't that throw women back at least fifty years?"
Erica rolled her eyes. "And a man telling a woman what to say is so moving us forward. Thank you, Scott."
He wanted to say something but had to accept that nothing he said would get him out of admonishment, so he kept quiet. He scowled at her but decided to end the conversation right there.
"Stop arguing!" Cora snapped. "I've lost her scent again."
Isaac, Jackson and Lea admitted to the same. They spread out a little in an attempt to pick up the trail, but it was futile. Danny had followed the GPS signal of Allison's phone, but that had also led to a dead end. Her phone was found on the ground near the Hale House.
Scott felt like even the simple act of walking around had been taken from him. The ground was pulled right out from underneath their feet. He ground his teeth together, swallowing a curse.
He spied Lydia from the corner of his eye, and an idea formed. He grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her as if that would help her in accomplishing his task. "Concentrate! You can sense her! I know you can!"
"Hey!" Jackson tried to intervene, but one look from Lydia froze him in his tracks.
"Be glad that I can't sense her. She is not yet completely gone," Lydia told him emphatically. She did nothing to release herself from his painfully tight grip, knowing that he would never intentionally hurt her.
"Lydia, please. I know you can sense her somewhat. What did you call it? The death that clung to her. Please. I'm begging you! Try!"
She looked into the frantic eyes of a friend, saw the raw fear reflected in them, felt his trembling hands on her shoulder and it shook her to her core. It was time to be a guiding and soothing presence, and yet she could find neither of those qualities within herself. She was just as helpless as he was.
"I'm trying," she pressed out between her thinned lips. She had to stop them from trembling somehow. "I am trying. She's my best friend. I love her too!"
She closed her eyes and searched for the feeling. It was hard to look for absence if you didn't know what was absent exactly. She knew hollowness, she was acquainted with feeling lacking. But to detect it in others... it predisposed that you knew what they were made of.
A big net of light. It was all connected. Life was energy. And life was interwoven with each other, ergo the energy was as well. Now, to detect the holes in the net. She reached out inwardly, felt along fringes and frays. Death was a call, not a bottomless hole. And she felt it calling, an echo.
"I think...," she considered this as she listened closely. "I think I've found something."
Scott let go of her and threw his hands behind his head at the same time as he let out a breath of relief. It was mixed in a breathless laugh. He then grabbed Lydia's face with both hands and pressed a hasty kiss to her forehead. The needles of Jackson's piercing glare were hardly even bothering him.
With that, Teams Beta and Gamma were finally on the move again, getting continuously closer to their target. A few miles into their pursuit, the werewolves had picked up the scent trail again. Scott was elated, ready to follow his nose to wherever it may lead him. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"Something about this stinks." At Scott's offended look, Cora rolled her eyes, "I'm not talking about Allison's scent, Romeo. Don't you think it's weird that her scent disappeared and then suddenly reappeared miles later? Scent can mix in with others making the tracking harder, yes, but her scent completely disappeared. That doesn't normally happen."
"You're right," Lea agreed. "It was like her scent had been completely wiped off as if she had disappeared into thin air."
"Or she was able to mask it somehow," Cora said in a dark tone.
"But... she unmasked it," Scott said. "Why would she do that?"
"Exactly. It screams 'trap'."
"And if she's laid a trap, she must have realized that we are following her," Jackson realized.
They looked at each other, not quite sure how to go on after those discoveries. Following the trail might lead them right into Allison's trap, but what was the alternative?
Lydia took Jackson's hand and shot him a meaningful look. She didn't like what she was about to do, but she didn't exactly have another choice.
"I'm sorry to say that Team Beta must now go its separate way. At least, Jackson and I do," she amended, once she saw Scott's appalled face.
Lea immediately shook her head. "No, Isaac and I are coming with you. We were assigned the same mission as you."
Scott stood up straight. "Yes, and we'll also follow through with ours. Which is to get Allison back. We'll continue following the trail."
For a moment, it seemed as if Lea was about to argue with him, but she noticed just in time that Lydia was already nodding in accordance.
"You need to be aware that she most likely will attack you. She will not hold back. The Allison you'll meet won't be the same one you knew. She's not herself and she is deadly. Do not forget that." Lea punctured every last word of her last sentence with a finger poking Scott's chest. The teenager nodded, though it was apparent that not even that warning could deter him.
"Be careful," Lydia whispered.
Scott briefly placed a hand on her shoulder. "You too."
Then the two teams went their separate ways.
****
Once the steps were out of earshot, Stiles slowly opened the door a crack so that he could see what was going on. The hallway seemed to be clear, as much as he could make out in the dimming light. Was it getting darker? Or was that just his imagination?
He swallowed and forced himself to open the door even wider. There was no time to hesitate. If he wanted to make it, he needed to act quick before whoever was out there became aware of his whereabouts.
He pressed himself through the crack, then closed the door as quietly as he could. There was no one in sight. He wanted to breathe out a sigh of relief but feared that it could draw too much attention to himself.
The spark muting his footsteps was once again in use, so he needed to control his breathing so to not make too much noise. He sensed that Burly was still in the vicinity of the cabin but not near enough to draw attention.
Burly needed to be able to carry out his mission when the time came. The success of his plan hinged on it.
Stiles repeatedly cursed his impaired leg for its slow movement and the resulting muscle cramps. He had no time for this. If only he wasn't as damaged.
Once he reached the end of the hallway, at the bottom of the stairs, he pressed himself to the wall and peered around the corner.
Where had they gone to? The creator of the footsteps must be around here somewhere!
If he went up the stairs now, they might be waiting for him on the upper floor. He couldn't peer around the bend of the stairs to see if it was safe.
It was either take the risk or wait out in the open to be found.
Stiles clenched his eyes shut for a brief moment, cursing himself for always ending up in these situations. But there was nothing for it. He needed to get a move on.
He told himself that he was not afraid. If he went out, at least he'd go out with a spiteful smile on his lips. Never with fear in his eyes. He would not cower before the enemy.
He couldn't stop his heart from beating wildly against his chest, nor could he hide the slight tremor coursing through his limbs.
Off into the battle, he thought with grim determination and climbed the stairs. As soon as he had sight of the upper floor, he paused, scanning the area. No one was there. He kept walking.
The light of the lamps was getting dimmer. Some lamps were flickering. Not good signs. He needed to get to the mirror before the lights went out.
He reached the storage room without encountering anyone and almost couldn't believe his luck. Briefly, he debated with himself if he was walking into a trap. Maybe behind the door awaited him whoever had stalked through the cabin.
But did he have another choice? He could hardly turn back now, could he?
Fuck it, he thought. It was time to trust in his luck.
He opened the door. A spark floated steadily ahead of him, bringing light into the otherwise dark room.
Stiles' heart stuttered. No one was in here.
He hobbled to the mirror, one hand extended. As he made contact with it, he tried to visualize the cabin again, the one he had reconstructed in the in-between. The safe-haven was back, so why shouldn't the face-less man have taken refuge in it? He simply must be there.
Just as Stiles thought he recognized a familiar presence there and leeched onto it, he heard the safety catch of a gun being released, very close to his head.