Chapter Text
He's never felt so hypersensitive before in his life, but right now he can almost feel and hear everything going on around him. The sound of the clock ticking away, the all too
familiar hospital smell that's a combination of bleach mixed with anesthetics he wouldn't doubt, and then there's the gut wrenching pain inside knowing this was his fault. He brought his dad into this side of the world, this fucked up part of the world composed of the supernatural who want to rule the world.
Stiles tapped his shoes rapidly against the tile floor of the lifeless, dark waiting room with his nerves high and on edge. It'd been at least twelve hours, twelve hours since he found his dad lying there on the floor bleeding out to death. He barely remembered calling for an ambulance, and anxiety plagued his mind wondering just how long he'd been in a terrified, daze staring down at his dad slowly deteriorating right in front of him. It couldn't have been more than a minute before he actually dialed nine-one-one, but his fingers had been covered up in blood, his fingers had trembled as he dialed, he'd pressed the stupid, back key over thirteen times but had been too spastic to get three, freaking numbers right. Now, his Dad was paying the price. Tears gradually gathered inside of his eyes, and he presses the palm of his hand over his mouth to stop himself from screaming out. He knows once he starts screaming, he won't be able to stop.
Stiles rests his head in his hands, elbows resting on the edge of the bed as he listens to the ventilator helping keep his dad alive for now. The surgery was a ‘success’, and all he wants is to scream that they didn't do a good job because his Dad is still lying unconscious, getting worse as the minutes pass by faster than before. Something else is far more wrong then they can see, and it scares the crap out of him because what can he do? If there were spells or anything to revive the dead, he’d do that a long time ago.
When he’s called out by Melissa to speak with the doctor, he reluctantly gets up to leave the room and follows her out. They ask him everything already asked way earlier, and he continues to vent that he doesn’t know what happened, but he does. He knows exactly what happened, and who is to blame for all of this happening. Theo Raeken, is an evil bastard, and he had one of them, the chimeras attack his father. Telling them that he doesn’t doubt will get him shipped off straight into Eichen House again.
Come later that morning, Stiles sits inside of the only home he's ever known staring across the table where his Dad should be sitting right now. They should be having a stupid argument over his health, or how they needed to leave this town because its almost killed them both more times than he can count. If that isn't a warning to leave, he doesn't know what is. But, instead he's sitting here in silence staring at a coffee mug, trying to figure out what to do next. He's here, and his father is lying dead in the morgue of the hospital because now they're launching an investigation on who killed him. But, Stiles knows; he knows that Theo had a part in it, and it's most likely one of his chimera children that he created with the doctors. All he wants right now is to kill whoever did it, but he knows that he isn't strong enough and for a minute, he craves the Nogitsune’s power that once flowed throughout his body. It was never he himself actually using that power though, his body was controlled and taken advantage of, forced to be an evil fox’s puppet. A puppet with no strings attached.
When his phone begins vibrating around once more on the table, he reluctantly grabs hold and looks to the name across the screen. Scott, Scott McCall, his former best friend and the last person that he wants to see or hear from right now. Scott can apologize all he wants, and have the audacity to actually tell him that he, Stiles, he trusted Theo too? It makes his blood boil, and just remembering their fight inside of the hospital, and trying to get Theo to speak. When did he ever trust, Theo? He never placed any faith in that guy’s hands, Scott was at fault, he was the one to allow him into the pack, he was the one that let him in, and now everything was in chaos. Pressing the power button, it silenced and he got up to go grab his hoodie, along with the keys to the SUV that belonged to his dad.
Walking up the steps of the long pathway, Stiles paused for a moment, leaning back against the barrier and staring down into the concrete. There was no guarantee he’d actually find what he was looking for here, or that it would even help. He’d driven all the way out here to the place he’d never wished to return to. But, he wasn’t going to let anything stop him now, he’d made up his mind and would accept the consequences that came with it. He already had an idea planned out, it would work, everything was going to work this time. Stepping past the creaking gate, he paused momentarily to watch it close shut, signalling he was now locked in this place. Walking up to the front desk with his hands shoved in his pockets, he met the gaze of the receptionist with a calm gaze. “I’m here to see, Peter Hale.”