voluntaryapnea | 17. Feel it comin' in the air/Hear the screams from everywhere

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17. Feel it comin' in the air/Hear the screams from everywhere

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[He's always liked the woods. Practically grew up in them back in Beacon Hills with Scott. Years spent climbing trees and camping, other times spent fishing with his parents before his mom got sick and died, before his dad developed a bit of an alcohol problem and became a workaholic. The woods don't bother Stiles. Neither does only having two days worth of supplies. He no longer needs Adderall, so the lack of the drug in his system means he actually has a healthy appetite. That's the other great part about being a werewolf -- it means he can hunt his food when it runs out. And he knows from experience that the woods are full of perfectly edible creatures he can catch easily. If there's a pond or a river, he can fish.

He'll get by.

It's Lydia that he's currently worried about. He knows the rest of the pack hates her, that they won't lift a finger to help her even if she gets hungry. She hates them just as much. But with everyone being split up, it means that Scott will have a better chance at killing her -- again, or that someone else will try. He needs to find her first.

He straps the backpack to his back and sets off. The familiar sounds of nature are all around him, louder than he's used to. He keeps his comm in his jeans pocket in case Scott or Lydia try and reach him that way. For now he's content to use his enhanced senses to seek out the one he's looking for.]

Ooc: Stiles is affected by the event -- he's much more twisted and dangerous than the Stiles from the regular barge. Feel free to run into him over any of the days from the event!]

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[Scott is going to have nightmares about this place - about the people that inhabit the other Barge, the people they could have all been on the other side of the mirror - but for now, he's only letting himself push through. One step at a time, one life at a time, one friend at a time.

He catches Stiles' scent only a few moments before running into him: it's not the same scent he's used to. It is but it's - different, too. Familiar in different ways, and when he puts his finger on it, he feels his stomach twist around. He would have bitten Stiles, turned him, when it seemed he had no other option: when it looked like he was sick, Scott would have done it. But now? Here? He knows - he remembers - it wasn't sickness that made him offer Stiles the bite.

Not him. The other Scott.

Shaking his head, this Scott slips out of the thicket he was crouched in, into the clearing so that Stiles can see him. He doesn't know yet how far gone his other self is, and he's reluctant to walk around wolfed out, anyway. It's not worth trying to blend in. And if he's not safe around Stiles, he's not safe around anyone.]

Stiles?

[Stiles is sitting beneath a tree, dozing until he feels the other boy's presence. His eyes open slowly, but he doesn't move, simply watches as Scott steps into the clearing. He doesn't have to have werewolf senses to know this is not the Scott he's been spending so much time with. His Scott rarely ever looks human anymore.

Seeing this Scott's human visage is startling. There are people on the Barge that fear Scott -- for good reason. He's made a name for himself. People either hate him and fear him and try to stay out of his way, or they're part of his pack. He stays absolutely still and silent, listening intently for anyone else who might be nearby. When he hears nothing except Scott calling his name, he sits up a little straighter, lifts his chin.]

Scott. [He pauses, reconsiders.] Other Scott.

[Scott grimaces a little, at the differentiation. He looks down at the ground between them, then shrugs and starts to close the distance.]

Yeah. But you're just Stiles, as far as I can tell.

[He knows the difference, obviously, but even to his other self - Stiles is always Stiles. Even if his motivations are selfish, Stiles is a part of them. He shakes his head a little, and moves to sit down next to his brother.]

How long have you been a werewolf?

[He watches passively as Scott moves to sit down beside him like there's no danger in doing so. There isn't, and Scott's own werewolf senses probably tell him that much. Then again, he's probably the only person on the Barge who isn't afraid of Scott, so maybe it's just a universal dynamic that he's banking on.]

A few months. Since I wound up on the Barge. Days after.

[He turns his head to look at Scott, to stare at him. He looks good -- healthy and youthful, like the Scott he remembers from back home. From before the world went to hell. There's a certain tiredness in his eyes that doesn't escape his keen sense of perception, though.]

What's the last thing you remember from home?

[Scott nods slowly; it doesn't surprise him, it just unsettles him. Stiles was never interested in being anything but human, and after the nogitsune, Scott doesn't want to see him shadowed by anything supernatural.

He pulls up his knees, loops his arms loosely around them while he turns to return the study. He looks - he looks like Scott did, after the bite. Like everything good was emphasized. He looks strong and capable, and if Scott didn't know better, he'd say this is the best Stiles ever looked. But.

The question makes him swallow hard.]

After Oak Creek. After...stopping the nogitsune.

[He visibly shrinks back a little at the mention of the nogitsune. If there's one person on the Barge who actually truly scares him, it's the nogitsune. Because he's pretty sure it's stronger than all of the werewolves, demons and other supernaturals put together. But his eyes widen just a little.]

How did you stop her?

[The shrinking makes sense, and Scott looks a little apologetic - until he hears the wrong pronoun.]

Her?

[Stiles looks at him in confusion.]

Kira. [Even now his voice is hushed when he says her name. As if saying it any louder might draw her to them.]

[It's Scott's turn to widen his eyes, to stare at his friend.]

Kira was possessed by the nogitsune?

Kira is the nogitsune.

[He stares back at Scott, puzzled.]

Dude. She's been tormenting us since she showed up. Not that you would know that because you're not...from the same Barge.

You didn't--

[He looks away, staring out at the clearing with his jaw slack. How could it have happened? How could she have let it in? She wasn't part of their sacrifice, and if there are other ways...]

No one saved her?

Saved her from what? [He shakes his head a little.] Herself?

I don't--

[He shakes his head, and it dawns on him that the other ways he's afraid of are the ones he doesn't want to consider. A kitsune doesn't get possessed by a nogitsune, it becomes one. He drops his head, scrubs at his face with both hands.]

I don't know. You were the one possessed, at home. We saved you. And we couldn't have done it without Kira.

[It's hard to imagine on so many levels. That Kira is someone in this Scott's world that's helped him in any way. That Scott himself isn't power-hungry or dead. He watches Scott scrub at his face tiredly. It's almost as hard to believe as the idea of Scott and Lydia getting along. Being in a pack together rather than at one another's throats all the time.]

None of that ever happened for me.

Edited 2014-09-27 22:34 (UTC)

I'm sorry.

[It's not his fault, but he can't help but feel like it is.]

I - the me in your world, I mean. He...At the motel?

[He remembers, vaguely, from his other self's memories, but it's been a while. It's hard to remember, and they fade, after a time. He's glad they do, or he doesn't think he'd sleep at night.]

You're apologizing because I didn't get possessed?

[It's the closest to true amusement he's reached in awhile, but the amusement vanishes instantly at the mention of the motel. For the briefest of seconds, he's there again, watching Scott go up in flames as he stares in horror, frozen. He gets to his feet, eyes narrowing at Scott. Scott, but not his Scott, and not the replacement Scott but still Scott.]

I don't want to talk about that.

Edited 2014-09-27 22:51 (UTC)

No, I'm sorry I wasn't - that I didn't--

[He lets out a breath, shaking his head. That he wasn't strong enough to resist the darach's call on his own, that he wasn't brave enough to stay away from gasoline and a flare, that he wasn't--

He doesn't blame Stiles for not getting there in time. Just because it was Stiles - and Lydia - that saved him in his world...He shouldn't have let the wolfsbane do it to him in the first place. He should have been stronger.]

Stiles, man - [his throat is tight, but he pushes through it anyway,] - you're my brother. I don't care what world we're from.

[He looks away at the apology combined with the earnest use of the term brother, the stirring of something long buried in his mind prickling at his skin now. He digs his fingernails into the palm of his hand before turning his attention back to Scott.]

It's fine. Don't apologize. It wasn't your fault. It was hers. [And Jennifer is dead now. He saw to that. The other deaths he'd caused had been out of blind rage, mostly. Resentment. But hers. He'd truly enjoyed it. Even now a sick smile touches his mouth as he thinks about killing her.]

She's dead now.

[He feels sick.

Stiles has always been the first to make the suggestion, to joke - or not to joke - but the idea that without him, Stiles would actually...Scott swallows hard.]

You killed her?

She killed you. She deserved it.

[There's no remorse in his voice or in his expression. He doesn't feel it at all.]

She killed you, and our parents. Heather. Chris Argent. I wasn't going to let her get away with it.

[Their parents too. God.]

No one deserves to die.

[He's quiet, though. Because he thinks, maybe, that would break him.

Everyone dies, Scott. It's just a matter of the circumstances that bring it on.

[He's more affected than he'd like to be from Scott's quiet words and he looks away.]

Edited 2014-09-28 03:48 (UTC)

But you brought it on.

[He runs a hand over his face, because part of him sees Stiles look away and wants to comfort him - but he also wants his friend to feel it. Because if he can feel guilty, then maybe he isn't totally lost.]

Stiles...I wouldn't - I wouldn't want you to kill anyone, because of me.

You're damn right I did. She would have kept killing. The whole alpha pack would have. But I stopped them.

[His eyes flash blue for just a second and his jaw tightens.]

You can't expect me to feel bad for offing people who got you killed. Because I don't. I won't.

[He doesn't flinch away from the blue. It just breaks his heart a little to see.

Stiles, a killer? Because of him?]

There are better ways, man.

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Day Four?

Sounds good!

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