[3x20; Echo House]

Olivia—30 minutes before admission...   

To be clear, Olivia was not afraid of Stiles. No, she hadn't seen him since she was collected at the animal clinic by Lydia and Allison and yes, she hadn't seen him in the twenty-four hours since, but that didn't mean she was afraid of him. She loved him and she knew that he wasn't to blame for the nasty mark on her face, or the blue bruises around her wrists. That wasn't him, she knew that.

She wasn't afraid of Stiles, but she was terrified of the Nogitsune.

Her stomach twisted with guilt when she thought about how she didn't go see Stiles since the events of the night before. She should have been by his side the moment that Dr. Deaton poisoned the Nogitsune, but she just...she couldn't. And she didn't go when Scott asked her that morning, either, and now...and now Stiles was being admitted into the Eichen House.

She uncomfortably adjusted her grip around Scott's waist as he turned his bike into the driveway that led up to the mental institution, following the Sheriff's car. They came to a stop and parked right as Stiles and Noah got out of the car, and they hurriedly climbed off of Scott's bike in order to talk to them.

Olivia's eyes first landed on Stiles as they turned to look at them, studying his body language and the tired expression on his face. His tether was back like normal, just like him for the moment, but between everything, she could tell that he was tired and scared. Her stomach churned again; she had no right to feel so scared when she wasn't even the person being possessed by the Nogitsune.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Scott confronted the Stilinski men, eyes darting between them.

Olivia slowly walked up to their group, hardly hearing Scott's question, and grabbed Stiles' hand, threading their fingers together. She watched as Stiles looked at her, hesitation and fear pouring out of him. Setting her own aside, she smiled softly and brought their joined hands up to her lips, kissing the back of his hand gently.

I'm here now, she wished desperately that he could read minds. I'm sorry I wasn't.

The corners of Stiles' lips hesitantly lifted into a small smile and he squeezed her hand.

"Because we wanted to avoid something like this," Noah answered Scott.

"It's only seventy-two hours," Stiles added.

"This is the same place where Barrow came from, the guy who had a tumor inside him filled with flies," Scott reminded them before directly addressing Noah. "You don't know everything yet..."

"I know enough," Noah returned. "Nogitsunes, kitsunes, Oni, or whatever they're called..." he paused to make sure he was correctly pronouncing the new supernatural creatures they were now involved with.

Olivia smiled slightly as Stiles nodded, "Wow, that was actually all surprisingly correct."

Noah rolled his eyes good naturedly at Stiles and then looked back at Scott. "Scott, I saw an MRI that looked exactly like my wife's, and it terrifies me. I'm headed down to LA tomorrow to talk to a specialist."

"Then why are you putting him in here?" Olivia spoke up. Her voice wasn't defensive or angry, but almost desperate. Even just standing outside in the parking lot, she could tell that Eichen House was no place for Stiles.

"He's not," Stiles answered her. "It was my decision."

"Stiles, we can't help you if you're in here."

"And I can't hurt you." His eyes darted to her cheek, where make-up was covering the bruise the Nogitsune gave her.

Olivia wanted to shout at him, to tell him to reconsider, but the look on his face and the sadness in his voice made her mute. He didn't want to hurt her, or anyone else. Even if the Nogitsune was dealt with at the moment, it didn't mean that it would last and who knows what it would do then. He was condemning himself, just to protect everyone else. It was infuriating, but it was Stiles.

She lowered her chin slightly in a nod, telling him that she understood. However, Scott was not done trying to bargain with him.

"Deaton's got some ideas and Argent's calling people," he told Stiles. "We're gonna find something. And if we can't—"

Stiles interrupted him, letting go of Olivia's hand to get closer to Scott. "If you can't..." he lowered his voice to a whisper so that his dad couldn't hear. "If you can't, then you have to do something for me, okay? Make sure that I never get out." Olivia's chest ached as she watched him step back and move to his dad's side. "Come on."

"Wait, wait!" she called out, stopping him before he could leave. When Stiles stopped to turn to her, she didn't hesitate to jump at him. He caught her as her legs wrapped around his waist and she dug her face into his neck. "I love you, sweetcheeks."

"I love you." She treasured the way his fingers soothingly swept through the ends of her hair. "And I'm sorry."

"Don't say sorry, nothing is your fault," she whispered in his ear, pressing a short kiss under it. She reluctantly pulled back and kissed his lips, savoring the way he kissed her back. When their kiss ended, she let go of him. "We're gonna find something, okay? Stay strong."

Stiles nodded, but elected not to say anything else. As he and Noah started walking up the long sidewalk to Eichen House's entrance, Olivia turned away. She didn't want to watch him go in, she was just too nervous. When her eyes met Scott's, she knew that the anxiety this was causing her was not just her own.

-

Stiles—Admission...

The first thought he had when he walked into Eichen House was that he regretted not giving Livvy some well-thought-out speech that would make her cry, then laugh, then cry again. Yeah, she'd probably hate it years from now, but this was, like, the one time he was ever going to get away with such a sappy speech and damn, he should have taken it. Maybe it would have given her happier memories of him, other than the Nogitsune using his body to slap the shit out of her.

He gritted his teeth at the memory of it.

His second thought as he entered the lobby of Eichen House and saw a bunch of patients just sitting around—one of whom was in a wheelchair, just facing the wall and staring at nothing—was that he did not want to continue on. He hated scary movies for a reason, and yet here he was, just waltzing in on the set for the newest horror film coming next summer.

Oh fuck, did wheelchair guy just turn to look at him?! Yeah, nope, he couldn't do this.

"Hi, I called earlier," his dad told the receptionist. Damn, he was too late. "Stiles Stilinski."

Immediately, the door to the left opened and a nurse came out. "Mr. Stilinski? This way, please."

Stiles and his dad followed the nurse through the door and down a hallway to a small intake office. The nurse sat down behind the desk and opened a file, pulling some pages out of it. As they sat down, she pushed the papers over to Noah to sign.

"First seventy-two hours, there's no phone calls, no e-mails, no visitors," the nurse informed them while Noah read over the contract he was signing. "We will be taking you from here to a brief physical. In the morning, you'll be assessed by a staff psychologist, speak to a social worker, and attend group therapy."

Stiles nodded absentmindedly, his focus taken away as his dad squirmed around in his seat. He watched as Noah turned around to look at the open door and then back to him. "I feel like we're forgetting something."

Stiles couldn't answer him because the nurse was steamrolling on, placing a pair of beige slippers on the desk in front of him. He knew that if Olivia saw the slippers, well-worn and more than likely reused because of poor funding, she'd protest. He didn't care about that kind of stuff, honestly. He expected he'd be wearing some kind of shoes without laces. He'd done his research on mental facilities in the moments before they left home.

"You will be wearing these, Stiles. No laces allowed. You don't have a belt, do you?" he shook his head at the nurse and she continued. "And please empty your pockets in here."

She slid him a small container and after he pulled his wallet and phone from his sweatshirt pockets, he placed them in it. He had pulled his foot onto his seat and started to unlace his shoes when Noah abruptly turned to him.

"Your pillow!" he remembered stressfully. "We forgot your pillow."

Shit. "Dad, it's okay."

Really, it wasn't okay. Stiles could never sleep without his pillow. He brought it everywhere with him if he wasn't sleeping at his own house for the night. There were multiple times over the summer where he had to take a short drive back to his house from Olivia's just so he could pick it up for a sleepover. He'd been doing it for years for nights at Scott's, too, as well as vacations, field trips, and hospital visits. His pillow was just another limb to him. He couldn't live without it.

"No, no, it's not okay. You're never going to be able to fall asleep. We...we got to go back."

Still, he didn't want to prolong this process for his dad. Noah was clearly starting to freak out about this decision.

"It's fine, Dad. I don't need it."

"I can't believe I forgot it," Noah lamented, shaking his head. "I mean, every time that we've ever stayed in a hotel, the first thing you pack is your pillow."

"You can bring it tomorrow," Stiles told him calmly. He finished slipping off his shoes and then handed them over to the nurse. "It's all right."

A faint buzzing came from behind the door and it was probably just a receptionist letting a night worker back for their shift, but the sound of it seemed to set his dad off. Noah jumped up from his seat.

"Okay, you know what? Stop, stop. Enough," he declared, staring down at Stiles sternly. When he continued, his voice waivered with emotion. "Stiles, get your stuff. I'm not checking you in here if you're not gonna get one good night's sleep."

Fuck, he really loved his dad.

"Dad," Stiles stood up and placed his hands on Noah's shoulders, patting them in reassurance. "I haven't had a good night's sleep in weeks."

With that, he pulled his dad into a hug and held on tightly for a few seconds. With his face smushed into Noah's shoulder, inhaling his dad's familiar cologne, he didn't let go until a few seconds after Noah hugged him back. He gave his dad once last half-hearted smile before following the nurse out of the intake room.

-

Stiles—30 minutes after admission...

After the physical, in which he was thankfully allowed to keep the sweatpants, t-shirt, and hoodie he was wearing, the nurse who did his intake met him by the door. In her hands was the duffle bag that he had packed—he had left it with his dad so she could go through it, per the institution's rules—and she silently waved for him to follow her down the hallway to a stairwell.

They had just climbed onto the third-floor landing when he saw a familiar face. Malia Tate, the werecoyote that Olivia had transformed back into her human form after eight years, was walking down the hallway. He paused for a moment to see if she recognized him, but she just entered another room without acknowledging him.

Fair, he thought. She probably didn't realize it was me.

"Stiles?" the nurse called for his attention after she noticed that he wasn't following her. "This way, please."

Stiles glanced back at Malia's hallway one more time before following her once again. They started climbing the stairs to the fourth floor; he looked up to see how many more floors they had to go, when he saw someone standing against the railing of a landing a few floors up from him.

A male patient, dressed in his pajamas, was frantically tying a ripped sheet around the handrail. "I'm part of the bird that's not in the sky," he muttered quickly. "I'm part of the bird that's not in the sky."

"Hey, do you see that?" Stiles asked the nurse, nodding above their heads at the patient. How didn't she see him? "That guy up there?"

The nurse stared at him blankly and it infuriated him. He quickly passed her, climbing the stairs more quickly in order to get to the guy before he killed himself.

"Stiles, wait for me!"

"I can swim the ocean, yet still remain dry," the patient continued over and over again as Stiles tried to get to him. "I can swim in the ocean, yet still remain dry."

"Stop!" Stiles shouted; the guy had finished tying the sheet around the rail and draped the other part around his neck. "Somebody stop him!"

The patient climbed onto the railing and then promptly stepped over. His body dropped but the sheet caught his neck, snapping it quickly. The nurse screamed and Stiles stared in shock, his mouth open, as the patient's feet dangled right in front of him.

Stiles heard more gasps; he looked down the stair well and saw more patients and some staff looking up at the body and gossiping. He was about to look away when he saw a figure wearing a leather jacket, his head wrapped in gauze.

The nurse didn't let him stay to see what the institution staff did with the body; she grabbed his upper arm and quickly pulled him down the hallway of the fifth floor. That was okay; his heart was racing after spotting the body that the Nogitsune had used to visit him in his dreams. If he was here, waiting in Stiles' head to just take over, maybe staying in Eichen House wasn't the best idea.

Shit, shit, shit...Okay, he needed to call Scott.

"Okay, I know there's the whole seventy-two hour thing, but I really need to use the phone," Stiles urgently told the nurse as they came to a stop outside of a room.

"The accident that occurred is being taken care of," the nurse replied calmly.

Stiles raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "You're seriously referring to that as an accident."

The nurse unlocked the door. "Incident."

"Slightly better, but I still need to use the phone," nevertheless, when the nurse held open the door for him, he walked into the room. "Look, just five minutes," she stared at him with raised eyebrows. "Three minutes, please. A three-minute call."

"Would you like to go to sleep, Stiles, or would ou like to be introduced to our five-point restraint system?" the nurse asked dryly.

"I would go with sleep," a voice called from behind him. Stiles turned to the noise and saw a guy his age tied to the bed with leather restraints. The kid waved at him with just his fingers, unable to use his whole arm.

Apparently this was his roommate.

While Stiles was distracted with the guy, the door snapped shut. He quickly looked back and threw himself at the door, trying to open it by twisting the knob. The door was locked.

"Hey, wait, wait!" he knocked on the door, but there was no response. The nurse had obviously walked away.

He exhaled heavily and glared at the door. If he had anything with him to unlock the door, he would use it. Unfortunately, he didn't bring anything to pick the lock and if he had, the nurse would have probably confiscated it.

"I'm Oliver," his roommate called.

"Stiles."

"There was a suicide, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Is it Monday? There's a much higher rate of suicide on Mondays."

Stiles glanced back at Oliver, noticing how nonchalant he was about everything, and cursed himself. "Okay then..." he faced the door again and raised his voice, trying to get an orderly's attention. "Hey, can someone just please let me out of here? Someone, anyone?"

There were no footsteps to indicate that anyone heard him and they were on their way to let him out of the room.

"I heard it, by the way," Oliver spoke again; Stiles turned to face him. "It happened in the stairwell, right?"

"Yeah, how'd you know that?" giving up on someone letting him out, he walked over to his designated bed and sat down.

"I heard the echo."

"What do you mean?"

"It's this place," Oliver explained slowly. "Something about the way tha it was built. Everything echoes, eventually. That's why thy call it Echo House."

-

Olivia—11 hours after admission...

She could feel Allison staring at her and it was beginning to annoy her.

They sat silent together in Allison's car, waiting to pull up to the first window of the McDonald's drive thru. The radio had been turned down when Allison ordered their breakfast and it hadn't returned to its former volume after they drove away from the speaker. It was a bit unnerving.

And now Allison was staring her and her freaking hair wouldn't cooperate and everything was annoying. 

"Please stop," she sighed and pushed the stubborn hair that refused to stay in a clip back behind her ear. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

Remember when Allison used to not be so blunt? She spent too much time with Olivia and Lydia.

"You don't look great, either." Olivia shot back at her.

It was true. Allison had spent the night at the hospital with Isaac before she picked her up that morning. But before she was at the hospital, she was visiting Mr. Argent in jail, where he and Derek were currently being housed. They had been arrested by Agent McCall for murdering Kakashi—who turned up dead out of nowhere, but all signs pointed to the Nogitsune.

Olivia, herself, had been at the jail to visit Derek the day before when she was avoiding Stiles. He was all healed up, but angry that he was stuck in a cell when everything was going on. She didn't tell him what the Nogitsune had done to her, but she guessed that he could tell anyway. He was agitated, more than usual, and kept on glancing at the bruises she sustained. Luckily she kept him busy asking about the charges and what lawyer to hire for him. According to Derek, it wasn't her business and he and Peter were taking care of it. Apparently, she just needed to focus on Stiles.

She never thought Derek would say that.

"Thanks," Allison snorted softly and pressed on the gas when the car in front of them pulled up. She gave the window attendant their money and then pulled up again. "So, did Stiles say anything to you?"

"Just that he was sorry and that he didn't want to hurt anyone else," Olivia admitted. "I told him it wasn't his fault. It isn't."

"It's not going to make him feel any better about it."

"No, it isn't," she agreed with her friend. They paused their conversation long enough to receive their breakfast. As Allison pulled out of the McDonald's parking lot, she continued, "Nothing's going to make him feel better."

"Except maybe getting that thing out of him," Allison stated. She took a sip of her orange juice. "Hopefully Deaton or my dad will know something or someone who does."

"Hopefully."

They had finished their breakfast by the time Allison pulled into the animal clinic's parking lot. Scott's bike was already there, parked in its usual spot next to Dr. Deaton's shiny, black Mercedes. Within minutes they had walked inside, exchanged good mornings, and were talking to Mr. Argent over speakerphone.

"Did you have any trouble with Ikeda?" Mr. Argent wondered.

He was referring to Dr. Deaton's trip to Japan earlier in the week. He had poisoned Ikeda's—a Japanese mafia boss—wolf with kanima venom in order to steal the lichen that he used to poison the Nogitsune. The fact that he had gotten home in time to save Scott and Olivia was mind blowing—they could have been dead if not for the amazing timing.

"Only minor," Deaton answered him. "The white wolf was exactly where you said it would be. But we have two problems now. First, the lichen is not a cure. It'll wear off in a matter of days."

"But while it does work, the Oni won't got after Stiles, right?" Mr. Argent asked while Olivia, Scott, and Allison exchanged worried looks.

"I hope," Deaton said. "Eichen House has an unusual history. It might not be all that safe for the Oni there as well."

"What's the second problem?"

"I checked with your contacts in Japan. The Yakuza boss you saw killed by the Oni never found the scroll."

Scott perked up, confused. "What scroll?"

"A Shugendo Scroll," Dr. Deaton told him. Olivia narrowed her eyes, trying to think if she had ever heard of it; she wasn't too knowledgeable in Japanese culture, though. "The Shugendo were the ascetic mystics of Japan."

Interesting. Despite the serious nature of the conversation, Olivia found the brief description of the Shugendo fascinating. She made herself a mental reminder to study about it later.

"The scroll had information on how to exorcize a Nogitsune," Mr. Argent added from the phone.

Olivia inhaled sharply. "So, we need to find the scroll."

"Exactly," Deaton nodded at her before addressing Mr. Argent again. "And I did get a name of the man who last purchased it. Kincaid."

"He was with Katashi," Allison recognized the name, eyes widening slightly. "He's the guy who met with Isaac to buy the gun."

Dr. Deaton eyed her thoughtfully. "Sounds like Katashi wanted the scroll for himself."

"But Stilinski already told me nothing like it was found among his things," Mr. Argent said. "And a paranoid like Katashi would keep it close. It was probably on him at all times."

"What does a Shugendo scroll look like?" Allison wondered, her eyebrows furrowed. Olivia could tell by the look on her face that her mind was racing.

"Something like this."

Dr. Deaton stood from his seat at his desk and turned around, opening one of the drawers behind him. He pulled a large scroll from it and turned around, handing it to Allison. She studied it for a brief second.

"Do these come in different sizes?"

"Any size."

The corners of Allison's lips quirked, almost grimly. "Then I think I know where it might be."

-

Stiles—11 hours after admission...

He didn't sleep a wink. All night, he sat in his uncomfortable bed, springs digging into his butt, and thought about everything that was going on. He thought about the Nogitsune. He thought about how it was his hands that hurt Scott and Olivia. He thought about all the people he killed—good people, who he knew for years because they worked for his dad. He thought about the guy who committed suicide earlier that night. And he thought about his pillow.

Honestly, he was lucky that he had so much experience losing sleep. If not, he was sure he'd be feeling horrible right now. A lot of people got really sick if they didn't get enough sleep. Olivia was one of those people; if she didn't get at least five hours of sleep, she'd have achy muscles and stomach nausea the whole day.

Finally, the sun came up and Oliver started to stir.

"Have you been awake all night?" he asked when he noticed Stiles' position on the bed.

"Yeah, I can't sleep without my pillow," Stiles didn't look away from the window until Oliver coughed heavily. "You okay?"

"I swallowed a bug the other day," he answered, his breathing pattern disturbed slightly. "You ever do that? I keep coughing, like it's still in my throat."

"That's disgusting, Oliver," Stiles grimaced and then glanced at the doors. "You don't have any idea when they unlock the doors, do you?"

At that moment, they heard footsteps come and go as the lock on their door twisted.

"Now."

Oliver was okay, as far as roommates at a mental institution went, Stiles supposed. He showed Stiles the cafeteria and what table was the best to sit at, and he introduced him to the nicest lunch lady, who gave him an extra sausage link. After they ate, they had a thirty minute break before group therapy where they could spend time with each other, play games, or read. Oliver took that time to show Stiles around the free area, which expanded into the courtyard, and promised to take him to the phones that patients could use.

"Most of the people here are okay," Oliver told him as they walked around the courtyard. "the violent ones are in the closed unit. That's Hilary," he pointed to a girl sitting on a bench by herself. "She as OCD. That's Gary," he gestured to a guy with long hair who walked past them. "He thinks he's Jesus Christ. Dan—also Jesus. And that's Mary—"

"Mary Magdalene?" Stiles guessed bitterly.

"No, she also thinks she's Jesus," Oliver said as they stopped near the phones. A girl was already talking to someone on one of them, so Stiles just waited for his turn. "You'd be surprised how many Jesuses we get."

"Not really."

"Hey, how come you want to use the phone already?" Oliver wondered, glancing at the girl talking on the phone.

"Cause after one night, I've changed my mind about this place being safe for me," Stiles paused, remembering the suicidal patient and the Nogitsune from the night before—he was sure that it was related. "Or anyone. Ever."

"No!" the girl who was talking on the phone raised her voice, catching his attention. "No, I think you're wrong. I really think I should tell them. They're going to want to know the story. The whole story. I really think they should know. Yes, I do."

Stiles was going to turn and give her more privacy—she seemed to be in an argument with whoever she was talking to—until he heard her whisper loudly, "One of them is standing right behind me."

Stiles whipped around to face her again with furrowed eyebrows, bewildered. Okay, was this girl crazy or did she have something supernatural going on with her?

The girl hung up the phone and didn't look at him once while she walked away, despite the mild glare he was sending her way.

"Who was that?" he asked Oliver as he took her place by the phone.

"That's Meredith," he answered dutifully. "She's a little weird."

"You're a little weird. She's a lot weird." Stiles picked up the phone and dialed Olivia's number. When he held the phone to his ear, he heard nothing. "It's dead."

"Yeah," Oliver said like it was obvious. "They turn off all the phones for twenty-four hours after a suicide."

Stiles' clenched his fist tighter around the phone, trying not to punch his well-meaning roommate. "Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"Why didn't you ask?" Stiles slammed the phone back onto its receiver and stormed away from Oliver. Unfortunately, his roommate followed him. "What are you going to do now?"

"I'm getting out of this nuthouse."

"That's not really the appropriate way to describe a facility like this."

Stiles ignored Oliver and stopped when he saw that familiar face again. Now that he knew what he knew about her, he could see the resemblance between her and Olivia. Malia was a few inches taller than her half-sister, around Allison's height, and her eyes were brown, but you could tell that they were closely related. Once again, Stiles cursed Scott for telling him what Lydia found out; he had promised to not tell either Olivia or Malia, in case something went wrong with Peter.

"Malia," he called; from her spot against a pillar, she turned around to face him. "Hey, it's Stiles. Do you remember me? I'm friends with Scott, Olivia's boyfriend?" she was still staring at him blankly, so he continued to explain how she knew him. "Remember, we were the ones who helped you out with—"

He was abruptly cut off when she swiftly stepped forward and decked him in the face. He fell to the floor under her super werecoyote strength and within seconds, some orderlies were on them. One of them got to him, turning him over so he was laying on his stomach with his hands behind him on his back, while there were two of them to restrain Malia.

"Hey, what the hell?" he complained as the orderly sat on him. "She hit me."

"A few more like this, Malia, and you're headed to the closed unit," he heard a man say while he squirmed under the orderly's grip.

If Malia was committed to the closed unit, he didn't want to follow after her. And the way they were treating him when he was the one who was punched made him think they'd send him too.

"Wait, stop, I didn't do anything," as he protested, he wiggled. It wasn't until he was tightly pressed upon a grate in the floor by the orderly that he stopped, his eyes catching something below.

"Enough!" a familiar voice cut through the arguing. "Enough!"

Stiles inhaled sharply, still looking through the grate. The basement, he'd seen it before. When he was dreaming about the Nogitsune, when he thought that he was being held in a basement, his foot caught in a coyote trap....Wait, didn't Olivia tell him that Lydia thought he was at Eichen House that night?

What the fuck is going on?

He was brought out of his thoughts when the orderly let of him. When he glanced up, to his shock, Miss Morrell, who had left her position at the school shortly after the business with the Alpha pack concluded, was standing in front of him, studying him intently. She knelt down to be on his level; with her intense stare, it felt like she was reading his mind.

"Stiles," she greeted him evenly. "You saw something, didn't you?"

"That basement," he breathed shakily. "I've been down there before."

-

Stiles—12 hours after admission...

He was baffled. One moment, Miss Morrell was helping him to his feet in the courtyard, and the next, he was ushered inside. It was officially time for group therapy, which left no time to ask Morrell if she knew about anything going on with him, or time to think over the Nogitsune and its connection with Eichen House.

Morrell had introduced Stiles to the group he was in, which included Malia and Oliver, and then they were on their way, talking about normal topics typically discussed in a group setting of therapy.

"I want to go back to the topic of guilt today," Morrell spoke clearly to the group. "It might surprise you to hear me say that guilt is a good thing. It's a rather mature emotion."

Stiles locked eyes with Malia and quickly looked away when she glared at him, mouth pressed awkwardly.

"Malia, you said something about guilt the other day," Morrell turned to Malia, as did the eyes of the others. "You said it came with a visceral reaction."

"I said it made me feel sick to my stomach," Malia stated blankly, like she had been forced to contribute to the conversation many, many times before.

In the chair beside Stiles, Oliver coughed.

"Guilt often becomes physical. You feel it in your gut..."

Stiles ducked his head and closed his eyes, horrible memories flashing against his lids. Even though he couldn't control his body, he was very much aware of what the Nogitsune was doing to his friends and to his town. He couldn't stop the bomb from blowing up his father's place of work, killing and injuring the people who worked there. He couldn't stop the Nogitsune from twisting that sword in Scott's stomach, he couldn't stop him from slapping Olivia, tying her up, and abusing her physically and emotionally. He wished he could do something to forget it all, but then it'd somehow be worse.

Shakily, he reached back and scratched the back of his neck. It felt like someone was staring at him, making his stomach twist and churn under his gaze. His mind itched. He slowly looked behind him; the Nogitsune was standing behind the group, dressed in a medical coat. He was talking to an orderly, head still wrapped in bandages, and as his head slowly turned toward him, Stiles' heart began to race.

"How does guilt make you feel, Stiles?"

The call of his name snapped him back to attention. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Guilt," Morrell repeated patiently; everyone in the group stared at him, Malia's gaze still angry, and waited for him to respond. "What does it make you feel?"

"Nervous," he admitted quickly.

"Like a sense of urgency?" Morrell prompted softly. "You feel an urgent need to make up for something you've done. To apologize. These are healthy responses."

After a couple of years as his counselor, Morrell knew him well. Did she know that the Nogitsune was playing with him right now? That he was actually sitting next to Stiles?

"Does anyone know what we call someone who doesn't experience guilt?"

"A sociopath," Oliver answered Morrell's question.

"That's right, Oliver." Stiles scratched at the back of his neck again. "I'm sorry, everyone, but we need to take a break."

Morrell slapped her binder shut and stood up, walking over to where Stiles sat. "Come with me, Stiles. I'd like to talk to you for a minute."

Stiles didn't question her, but stood up and followed her out of the room. When they were locked in her office, she requested that she look at the back of his neck, where he had been scratching. Confused, Stiles lifted the back of his shirt so she could take a look.

Her fingers gently traced over his back, exactly in the spots where his skin itched so bad that he wanted to tear it off. Was there a mark or something? There had to be, right?

"It's called a Lichtenberg figure. They appear in lightning strike victims," she told him; he put his shirt down in place and turned around to face her. "The fact that they're appearing on you after a shot of Wolf Lichen is both significant and strange."

So, she knew everything, huh? She figured that Deaton would have talked to her, especially after Scott told him about Stiles' admission into Eichen House.

"By significant and strange, do you mean hopeful and optimistic?" he gestured anxiously.

Morrell didn't answer his question, though he knew it was because he already knew the answer. Instead, she turned to the medicine cabinet in the corner and shuffled through numerous bottles.

"When the marks fade, the Nogitsune's grip over you will return," she picked out two bottles and closed the cabinet, walking back over to him. She gave him one of the bottles and he shook it, hearing the rattle of pills.

"What are these? Sleeping pills?"

"Amphetamines," she corrected him. "Sleeping is exactly what you don't want to do. You're vulnerable when you're asleep."

"So, all I have to do is stay awake?"

"For now. If your friends haven't figured out something by the time those marks are gone, I'll come find you."

Stiles perked up, hopeful for advice. "To tell me what to do?"

"No, to give you an injection," she held up the other bottle that she took from the cabinet. "Pancuronium bromide. It causes respiratory paralysis."

His hope faded away swiftly. "That sounds a lot like death."

"It's used for lethal injection, yes."

"So when the Nogitsune takes over, you're going to kill me?" A part of him was relieved. With him dead, he couldn't hurt anyone else. But he didn't want to die and he certainly didn't want to suffocate to death because of his formal guidance counselor/therapist.

Was it bad that he wanted to live? If you thought about the greater good and all that, yeah, he didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. But he never claimed to want for the greater good. He was a selfish creature, like any other human being, and he wanted to live. He wanted to live a long time, actually, and do a lot of things. What he wanted to do now was get this ancient Japanese demon the fuck out of him and then somehow destroy it before it could destroy anything or anyone else he cared about.

Morrell's face didn't shift at the anger his face and body language gave off. "I'm going to do what I've always done: maintain the balance."

Okay, yeah, he was done with her. If she couldn't help him beyond death, she could fuck off.

"Okay, then, I've missed out talks," he muttered sarcastically as he turned around and waltzed out of her office. "Thanks for the illicit drugs."

"Stiles," Morrell called out before her office door shut behind him. "Stay awake."

Stiles flipped her door off, hoping that it would somehow come to life and pass on the message to her. Then he kept walking down the hallway, hoping to find some sort of map so he could navigate the huge building. He needed to find the basement door.

It took fifteen minutes, five of those memorizing an old slab on the wall that gave vague direction, before he could figure out where the door to the basement was located. The door was white and unassuming against the other doors in the hallway and when he twisted the knob to see if he could open the door, he discovered that it was locked.

"What are you doing?"

"Gah!" Stiles jumped and turned around, gasping loudly at the sight of Oliver. Once he settled his racing heart, he said, "I need to get through here. To the basement."

Oliver smiled slightly. "Doctors don't even have a key to this door. Only Brunski."

An eyebrow quirked at the name drop. "Is that the head orderly?"

Oliver nodded. "He's got keys to everything in here."

"Does he keep them on him all the time?"

"If you want them, you'll probably have to figure out a way to trick him," Oliver suggested helpfully.

Stiles turned back to the basement door, his expression grim. "Well, a part of me is getting very good at playing tricks."

-

Olivia—16 hours after admission...

Stiles' tether lit up for just a second, but it was enough to freak Olivia out. He'd been hurt, and by the way her face tingled, she knew that he had been punched. Who the hell was punching him in a mental facility? Was it a nurse? Because she had read many articles about patient abuse and she was not about to let her boyfriend get abused by some orderly who thought that he was hot shit.

Her nerves were so shot about the situation that Lydia volunteered to call Eichen House, herself. Unfortunately, that only made matters worse when they found out they couldn't speak to him because of a patient suicide. Luckily, Lydia was able to charm the receptionist, who let them know that Stiles had been going to therapy all morning, so even if they could talk to him, he wouldn't have time.

A heavy knock at Allison's door made her jump. Both Lydia and Allison, who were sitting next to her on the couch gave her concerned looks. It was not normal for Olivia to be like this; Stiles was usually the visibly anxious one of the couple and usually Olivia could hide her anxiety quite well.

"I know," Olivia waved them off, jumping to her feet in order to pace. "I think I have to get anxiety meds or something, I swear."

Allison grimaced in sympathy and stood up, heading over to answer the door. Lydia stayed by Olivia and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly while they waited in the hallway. When Allison opened the door, Scott, Ethan, and Aiden were behind it like expected. Olivia wasn't even bothered by their five-minute tardiness, she was so occupied by her anxiety.

"My father said all of the Katashi evidence is being moved to a Federal Lockup by armored car tonight," Allison informed the boys as they entered the apartment. "Probably within the next few hours."

As Allison came to a stop next to Olivia and Lydia, Ethan gave them a weary look. "We're going to rob an armored car?"

Lydia smiled wryly. "Well, we're gonna try."

They all retreated to Mr. Argent's office to lay out the plan. According to Sheriff Stilinski, Deputy Parrish would be driving the armored car with a guard. The best time to get Katashi's prosthetic finger would be before they could even leave the parking lot. How they would do this was still up to debate. Ethan and Aiden wanted to beat them up, but Scott wasn't down for that. Olivia thought that distraction could be a powerful tool—and Allison agreed with her—but Lydia pointed out that Parrish wouldn't be by himself and therefore, distraction probably wouldn't be possible. Lydia's plan was to use stealth, but none of them were really good at that except for Allison and that couldn't leave all of the execution of the plan up to her.

In the end, they decided that combining all three ideas could be worth something.

Scott groaned. "This is a really bad plan."

Lydia, who was staring very intently at Scott—and yes, Olivia was going to hold that over her cousin's head—tried to reassure him. "It's not that bad."

"It's not that good," Ethan took his place next to Olivia on one side of Argent's desk, staring down at the road map of Beacon Hills. They didn't know what route the armored car would take out of town, but they did know that all of them crossed the bridge that led out of Beacon Hills. "None of us know the route they're going to take."

"But, if Allison can get one of her dad's GPS trackers on the armored car, then we can follow it," Olivia stated.

Allison nodded and pointed at the bridge drawn on the map. "So, when it gets here—"

"We attack them?!" Aiden exclaimed from his seat in one of the armchairs facing the desk.

Really, Aiden's idea wasn't that bad, Olivia could admit. The only reason she was annoyed that he kept bringing it up was because Scott and Lydia kept on shooting it down. They weren't able to move forward and actually plan because he was still stuck on it.

"No," Lydia gave him a stern look. "Your bikes will be in the middle of the road, looking like you guys got into an accident. And when the driver gets out to help—"

"We attack," Aiden repeated.

"No!" Lydia and Allison exclaimed simultaneously.

"You'll distract him and Scott will break open the back door," Olivia finished, sending him a glare.

"I hope," Scott cocked his head, confused.

Lydia pressed her lips together. "And you'll get Katashi's finger."

"It's not his actual finger, is it?" Ethan wondered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Scott, who looked at Ethan when he began to talk, quickly glanced back at Lydia for an answer. It was obvious that he was wondering that as well.

Jesus Christ.

Lydia sighed. "We are so out of our league."

"Why aren't we just going to Stilinski for help?" Ethan asked.

They'd been over this as well. "Because," Olivia glared at him now. "if he gets caught, then it's the sheriff tampering with federal evidence. Then Scott's asshole dad can get him fired like that," she snapped her fingers and then looked at Scott apologetically. "No offense, Scott."

"None taken."

Ethan ducked his head, conceding.

"Guys, this is going to work," Allison spoke up, trying to rally them all together. "We can do this. We're losing Stiles, my dad's in jail for murder...We need to do this."

Even though none of them had complete faith in their plan, they all nodded in agreement.

-

Stiles—17 hours after admission...

After almost falling asleep in the mushy spaghetti that the cafeteria served for lunch, Stiles decided to make use of the pills that Miss Morrell gave him. Even though he didn't like her, or her plans all that much, he knew that she was knowledgeable about the supernatural and that she was probably right about being vulnerable while asleep.

He managed to get away from Oliver by asking his roommate to take care of their lunch trays and quickly walked into the men's bathroom on his floor. He could hear water running somewhere throughout the room, but he ignored it in favor of getting to the sink. Turning on the faucet with one hand, he uncapped the meds with the other and popped a pill in his mouth. Then he cupped his hand and placed it in the water before bringing it to his mouth to swallow down the medicine.

Stiles turned off the faucet and stared at himself in the mirror. "Okay, just got to stay awake, Stiles. You gotta stay awake..."

In the reflection of the mirror, he saw a movement in the steam of the shower. For a brief second, he spotted a girl's naked back and quickly turned in shock. Malia glanced back at him in just time to see him spin around and cup a hand over his eyes.

"Don't worry, Stiles, you didn't just accidently walk into the girls' room," she called loud enough for him to hear.

"Thank god!" he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Um, okay, so what are you doing in the boys' room?"

"Showering."

Okay, you know what? Even if Scott hadn't told him about Malia being Olivia's half-sister, he bet that he would have figured it out just by her answer right then. It was just so Olivia—or maybe a Hale thing—that he would have recognized it immediately.

"I can see that." Shit, that's not what he meant to say. He didn't see anything except her back, really, and he didn't want to see anything else, so... "I mean, I saw that. Well, actually I didn't see anything really. There was a lot of steam, so...I didn't and I mean, I'm glad...I have girlfriend, who I'm very happy with...Not that I mean any offense to you—"

"Stiles, I don't care," Malia took pity on him, her voice flat. "In the woods, there was no boys' and girls' room. And if you really need to know, they keep the water temperature in the girls' room too low. It's much hotter in here. Ever since I turned back to human, I just can't seem to get warm."

"Oh, maybe you just have a low core temp," Stiles suggested. "Or you could be sick or—"

"I used to have a fur coat."

"Or it could be—yeah, it might be that, it's probably that," he said hurriedly. He heard her turn off the water and then her footsteps in the water. After a moment, she cleared her throat; he opened his eyes and lowered his hand to see her staring at him expectantly, towel covering her body. "Oh, good. You're covered up. Hey! I was kind of wondering why you punched me?"

Malia crossed her arms over her chest, staring at him with hard eyes. "Did you think I was going to thank you?"

"No," he answered too quickly, intimidated. "Well, maybe. We did kind of save your life."

"You're right, Stiles. Thank you. Thanks for invading my home, for putting me on the run. For getting your girlfriend to turn me back to human so that I could look at my father every day and try to figure out who to explain to him that the reason my sister and mother are dead is because I almost ate them on a full moon. Thank you so very much."

Well, shit, none of them ever thought of that...

His stomach turned and his neck itched—there's that guilt again. "We were just trying to help."

"You want to help me?" Malia raised an eyebrow. "Find a way to change me back."

"You want to go back to being a coyote?" After her heartfelt speech, he wasn't that surprised. Sure, Scott or Derek could probably help her learn to shift back into a coyote, but what about Olivia? Maybe she would want to get to know Malia. He knew she already liked her because Olivia had told him about the way that her abilities seemed to latch onto Malia immediately after she shifted back to her human form. They both had been confused about the connection between the two girls, but now that Stiles knew they were sisters, it was clear why it was there.

Malia saw his eyes shift; she grabbed his arms firmly. "What do you know?"

His mind raced. He felt bad about it, but what if he could get her help in order to change back to being a coyote? "I might know somebody who could teach you how to change..."

Thankfully, Malia's mind went the same route as his. "Okay, what do you want?"

"I need to get into the basement," he told her. "Which means that I need to get the keys off that orderly. The big one."

Malia nodded. "Brunski."

"You help me, and I'll help you."

-

Stiles—19 hours after admission...

With a promise to connect Malia to Scott, Stiles and Malia were able to come up with a plan to take the keys to the basement from Brunski. First, they got Oliver in on their plan, and then they waited for their next designated hour of free time. It was then that Malia would confront Oliver, telling him that the doctors were going to give him a lobotomy. Oliver was supposed to fight back and cause a scene large enough to get Brunski involved.

Stiles had to admit, Malia and Oliver were doing a great job. Currently, Oliver had Malia on the floor after tackling her out of her seat, and Malia was fighting back enough to cause a scene, but not enough to hurt Oliver. Oliver was screaming in her face while she fought and it wasn't long before three orderlies were on the scene, Brunski being one of them.

Stiles only moved from his spot in the corner of the room to go help Malia once Oliver was dragged off of her by Brunski and his goons. She sneakily passed him Brunski's keys while he helped her up and they both watched as Oliver nodded at them in satisfaction.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah."

Stiles waited for the orderlies to drag Oliver off—the whole time he was screaming about lobotomies—to leave the room. He quickly maneuvered himself through the building to get to the hallway where the door to the basement was located, and luckily, he wasn't caught.

Taking Brunski's keys out of his sweats, he went through each key, trying to unlock the door. One by one, each of the keys wouldn't fit into the lock. He shook with frustration and he felt his cheeks heating up with his temper. One of these fucking keys had to work after all the trouble they went through.

"Come on, come on," he hissed to himself. "I thought this guy had a key to everything."

A hand came down on his right shoulder. "I do," Brunski grabbed his hand and tore the keys from his grip. "but nobody has the key to that room."

He was pulled away from the basement door, ushered down the hallway, and up a flight of stairs where he and Brunski met with more orderlies. While he was searched, they found the bottle of pills Morrell gave him; that automatically got him in a secluded room, even if trying to break into the basement didn't.

The whole time Stiles' anger got worse. Now, he usually had a temper and was quick to mouth off, but he felt the Nogitsune's presence in his mind really made it worse. Normally, he'd spout some sarcastic comment, and yeah, it was coming, but now he really just wanted to kill every one of those orderlies.

He was dragged to the secluded wing on the second floor, where Brunski unlocked one of the rooms with the keys that he took from Stiles. "Into the quiet room, little man," the orderlies walked him into the room but didn't let him go. Brunski held up the pills. "Want to tell us where you got these?"

"A vending machine," Stiles spat.

Brunski laughed sardonically. "I always love the sarcastic ones," he handed one of the orderlies a shot of medicine. "Give him five of the Haldol."

Shit, shit, shit...I can't go to sleep!

"Wait, what is that? Is that a sedative?" he asked quickly. Only one orderly held him now but he was strong, because he hardly flinched when Stiles started trying to squirm out of his hold. "Okay, hang on. Hang on! I can't go to sleep. Okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Get off me, man!"

He continued to struggle to no avail. The needle was stuck in his neck and the medicine injected into his bloodstream. The orderly holding him let go and he immediately fell to his knees, the medication working quick. His vision became blurry and the only thought he had before his eyes shut was,

I have to stay awake.

-

Stiles—22 hours after admission...

He was in a locker. It was tight and small space that had his claustrophobia—which didn't really exist until right now—going wild. It reminded him of the night that they were stuck inside of the school with the alpha but he was more scared now than he was then. Because right now, he wasn't in the school fighting a huge supernatural animal that turned out to be his crush's dad. Right now, he was fighting a Japanese demon inside his own head and he was losing.

"Hey!" Stiles pounded against the locker door, the only light coming in through the three vents at the top of the door. "Hey, let me out! Let me out!"

He should have expected it, but he was still surprised when he saw the Nogitsune. He was wearing his usual leather jacket again, not the doctor coat from before. From research, Stiles knew that the jacket came from the World War II era. His head was still wrapped in bandages with only a hole for a mouth, where sharp teeth stuck out visibly.

"Let me in," the Nogitsune was not right in front of him, but a few feet away, walking by a long row of lockers. His hands, also bandaged, dragged against them as he slowly made his way to Stiles.

Stiles inhaled shakily and pressed his hand to the locker door. "What...what do you mean?"

"You know."

The long, drawn-out whisper that came from the Nogitsune infuriated him. "Okay, screw you and your stupid riddles!"

The Nogitsune suddenly appeared in front of his locker, his fist banging on the metal. Stiles jumped back as far as he could. "No riddle this time, Stiles," now he was back where he was a second ago, dragging his hand down the lockers. "You know what it means."

"Let me out." Stiles pushed against the locker. "Just let me out. Let me out."

He was frantic now as he beat against the thin metal. "Let me out! LET ME OUT!"

The Nogitsune's face pressed against the locker vents. "LET ME IN!"

Stiles woke up with a start, feeling fingers wrap around his wrists. He jerked against whoever had him in their grip. "No!"

"Shh!" it was Malia that shushed him. For a second, when he opened his eyes, he thought that it was Olivia rescuing him. "Hey, hey, hey, shh! Shut up!"

Stiles quieted down when his brain woke up and started working at normal speed. He glanced around, noticing that he was still in the secluded room. "How did you get in here?"

"I broke the lock," Malia told him matter-of-factly. "If I concentrate, I can be pretty strong," she pulled on his wrists insistently. "Get up. There's another way to the basement, through the closed unit. It's where they keep the real psychos."

-

Olivia—23 hours after admission...

Olivia was very envious of Lydia right now. Her redheaded cousin got to stay home this plan and honestly, Olivia wished she could have as well but she had to be here in case her powers were needed. It was a good idea, really, that she came with them, but as she sat, squished between Allison, Kira, and Scott behind a car, while they waited for Allison to finish searching out the armored car with her periscope, she wished she at least would have picked a different hiding place.

Finally, after observing no movement for more than a minute, Allison gave the all-clear. She turned to Kira, who had been given the tracker. "You're up."

Kira inhaled shakily and stood up, jogging over to the armored vehicle. She pressed the tracker to the underside of the back bumper and stopped to smile back at them. Within a second she had to hide as the door to the sheriff station opened and Deputy Parrish stepped out. They watched as he opened the passenger door, stopped for a second, and then pulled out his gun to search the area.

"We have to do something!" Scott hissed at Allison and Olivia. As Parrish stepped in front of the back doors of the armored vehicle, they opened. A huge man appeared and jumped on him, quickly knocking him out. "Wait, who the fuck is that?"

Allison lowered her crossbow, answering grimly. "Kincaid."

Well, shit. They had competition for the finger, that was very clear as Kincaid ruffled through a case in the back of the vehicle, finally pulling out the finger prosthetic that once sat on Katashi's hand. While he admired it, Olivia, Scott, and Allison had a conversation of nods and pointed glares that decided that they'd calmly approach Kincaid and ask him for the finger. If he refused, then things would get messy.

"We need that finger," Scott announced their presence, Allison by his side with her crossbow aimed at Kincaid, and Olivia behind him, a hostile glare on her face.

Kincaid's eyebrows rose as he turned to them. His voice sounded like he came straight out of a cartoon and was the main villain character of the series. "Why should I give it to you?"

"There's a briefcase in there with $150,000 in it," Allison replied calmly.

"The scroll inside this prosthetic finger is worth three million," Kincaid countered, holding up the prosthetic so they could see it.

Clearly, this would turn into a fight.

Scott stepped forward, his features forming into a glare. "Give me the finger," he paused as an amused smirk started to form on Kincaid's face. "You know what I mean."

From above, atop the armored vehicle, Kira jumped onto Kincaid's shoulders. It would have been pretty badass if he didn't immediately throw her to the ground.

Kincaid's wolf features appeared as he growled, "I guess negotiations are over."

Allison acted first, shooting him in the arm with an arrow, as Olivia backed up, warned that she should use her power from far away from the fight, lest she get hurt. Kira and Scott attacked right after, not allowing Kincaid time to pull the arrow out of his arm. The two were easily flung to the side, so Olivia stepped up. Her vision turned purple as she located Kincaid's tether on her map, grabbing onto to it. Through the purple haze, she could see his strength wavering, but it renewed when he was able to pull the arrow out of his arm.

Allison was quickly pushed out of the fight after hitting Kincaid with another arrow, and Olivia went down with her when she was knocked right into her. Both of them hit the wall, and for a second Olivia's vision blurred from the blow. She could barely hear Scott fighting Kincaid through the swooshing sound coming and going through her ears, but she could feel his tether glowing brightly. Every once in a while, while she recovered, he got in a few licks, but mostly, Kincaid was beating his ass.

"You have the eyes of an alpha," Kincaid acknowledged when Scott fell to the ground. "but where's the strength?"

"Up here!" Aiden called from atop the wall that Olivia and Allison had been knocked into. Ethan was by his side as they snarled and showed Kincaid their icy blue eyes and sharp canines.

Between the twins and their combined experience, Kincaid really didn't stand a chance. When Olivia finally pulled herself together to finish off the rest of Kincaid's strength, it was quickly over. Even when Kincaid stopped fighting, the twins didn't and it was very concerning to Scott.

"Ethan, Aiden, stop!" he commanded.

Aiden showed him his teeth. "You want him to come after us?"

Ethan, who was usually the calmer of the twins, backed Aiden up. "Scott, we've seen guys like this. Trust us. He's dangerous."

Scott shook his head. "So are we," he glanced at Kincaid meaningfully. "And he looks smart enough to remember that."

It was not a call that Olivia would make, personally, but that was why she wasn't alpha. She gave him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Kincaid, moved by Scott's graciousness, wouldn't return. Maybe it would work this time.

"We're here to save a life," Scott reminded them, his eyes darting from the twins to Olivia, who must have been frowning. "not end one."

She nodded back at him. With the scroll now in their possession, they were one step closer to saving Stiles.

-

Stiles—24 hours after admission...

The first thing that drew Stiles' attention in the basement was the kanji sign carved into the wall. The backward five that meant self—it matched the one behind Olivia's ear, the mark that everyone in his pack except him and Allison had etched onto their skin.

Oblivious to what Stiles was staring at, Malia glanced around the basement. "Do you know what you're looking for?"

Stiles slowly crossed the room to where the marking was carved. "Something to do with that."

Malia followed him and knelt down beside it, tracing the carving with her fingertips. "What does it mean?"

"Self."

His dry, bitter voice made Malia curious. "Maybe you should tell me more."

Stiles shook his head grimly, eyes still on the mark. "You might not like me if you know any more."

Malia snorted and stood, crossing her arms over her chest. "Try to remember that I'm a werecoyote who murdered her own family. I won't judge, I promise."

And so he told Malia everything. First, he started with the Nemeton and the sacrifice that he, Scott, and Allison made. He told her about the affect it had on him, and how he thought that he was fine, before the thing with Barrow happened and he started having nightmares again. He told her how he figured out it was him who wrote Kira's name on the board for Barrow to find and kill her. He told her about the Oni and how they came after his whole pack, including him. He told her about his sleepwalking incident, where he thought he was actually trapped in the basement that they currently stood in. He told her about the Nogitsune and its hold over him. He told her about everyone the Nogitsune killed with his body, and how he hurt Scott and Olivia. Finally, he told her about admitting himself into Eichen, how he hoped that it would help when in reality it was just making everything worse.

The whole time, Malia didn't judge him, even though he kind of wanted her to. In the end, all she did was sigh and say, "Wow, that's a lot."

Stiles snorted and then glanced at the mark again. "There's nothing here."

Malia cocked her head thoughtfully. "Maybe..." she knelt down again and slid her hands over the marking a few times. Finally, she knocked on it. It made a hollow sound; something was in there. "Stiles, do you hear that?"

Stiles nodded and turned all about, trying to see if there was something to use to break the wall. Luckily, only a few feet away from them was a crowbar. He grabbed it and used it to smash the wall where the marking was carved. When the wall around the hole was cleared and the dust faded away, they peaked inside the opening he made.

Inside was a body dressed in a leather jacket, its head bundled up with bandages. It was the Nogitsune.

"This is him."

"The Nogitsune?" Malia asked, eyeing the body wearily. When Stiles nodded, she reached into the hole and opened the pocket on the jacket's breast. Stiles didn't expect anything to be in there, but to his surprise, she pulled out a picture. She handed it to him. "Do you recognize them?"

Stiles studied the picture, instantly recognizing Kira's youthful face next to a man that he didn't know. "One of them," he stood up slowly. "I have to get this to Scott."

All this time, Kira was involved with the Nogitsune?

He felt the shock forced into his body first, the pain radiating from his hip to his limbs and then back in again, before he heard the crackling of a stun gun. He slumped down onto the floor, the electricity flowing through his body rendering him unable to move, and saw that it was Oliver who had stunned him.

"You took Brunski's keys, I took his stun gun," Oliver pressed the stun gun into Malia's stomach, long enough that she wasn't able to fight back. As she slid to the floor, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a needle, stabbing her in the leg. "I also got his Haldol."

When Malia passed out from the medicine, Oliver turned away and walked over to the tower of boxes leaning against the wall opposite the room. "Like I was saying, Stiles. I heard they used to do trepanation here..."

"Oliver," Stiles groaned weakly, still shaking from the stun gun. He watched as Oliver opened one of the boxes and dug through it. "What are you doing?"

Oliver pulled out a drill and showed it to Stiles. "I'm going to let the evil spirits out."

-

Olivia—25 hours after admission...

Olivia bit the inside of her cheek while she watched Dr. Deaton undo the Shugendo scroll that they retrieved from Katashi's finger. It took a couple of minutes for him to read it, unfortunately, which made Olivia and Scott share several nervous looks.

What if this was all for nothing? What if the scroll didn't tell them anything? What if they couldn't help Stiles?

Dr. Deaton sighed heavily. "There isn't much here, unfortunately."

Scott gulped nervously while Olivia bit her cheek so hard it was starting to bleed. "Does it say anything?"

"My Japanese isn't great," Deaton admitted. "But it appears to say that one method of expelling a Nogitsune is to change the body of the host."

"Change the body?" Olivia echoed thoughtfully. Did that mean...? See, the only thing she could think of to change Stiles' body was the bite. The two of them had talked about the bite before, but that was if Stiles had the same dementia that his mother had. Would he still want it?

"Which begs the question, how do we change Stiles' body?"

Scott was clearly thinking the same thing as Olivia, though he and Stiles hadn't talked about it. "By turning him into a werewolf."

Olivia didn't hear if Dr. Deaton replied to Scott's answer. Her heart started racing as Stiles' tether lit up almost black instead of it's normal whiskey brown. When she reached out to it, her hearing left her and it almost felt like she was underwater. Stiles' tether was acting lifelike; it latched onto her own and pulled her in until her vision left her and she was no longer in the animal clinic.

Olivia found herself standing in some kind of basement and within seconds she figured that she was in Stiles' head, because the Nogitsune stood a hair's breadth away from her, staring ahead. She followed his gaze and saw two beds, both with people restrained in them, and a boy her age, pacing back and forth. She reared forward when she saw that it was Stiles and Malia who were restrained, wishing that she could just move and untie them. She couldn't, not when it was the Nogitsune who brought her into Stiles' tether and showed her his game.

A low groan came from Stiles' body as he slowly woke up. The boy who had been pacing stopped to stand over him, staring at him blankly. "I borrowed a few pointers from the five-point restraint."

Olivia watched as Stiles glanced down at himself, becoming aware of the situation he was in. Her heart raced and her tear ducts ached as he struggled against the restraints, trying to free himself.

"Oliver, stop this," Stiles begged. The boy—Oliver—just coughed harshly, hand over his mouth. When he pulled his hand away, there was blood pooling in his palm, a dead fly floating in it. "Oliver, listen to me. Stop."

Oliver wiped his mouth and to Olivia's horror, held up a drill, the kind that doctors used in surgery. Olivia screamed when he slowly brought the drill up to Stiles' head, and the noise prompted the Nogitsune into action, his head ticking in her direction.

"Start with her," he ordered Oliver, gesturing toward Malia.

Stiles was now able to spot the Nogitsune, though he couldn't see her. He glared at the demon venomously. "You. You did this. You got into his head."

Olivia shivered when the Nogitsune suddenly appeared behind her, his breath making the hairs on the back of her neck raise. "Every Dracula needs a Renfield."

Olivia turned to look at Oliver at the same time as Stiles. He was by Malia now, walking around her body to place himself next to her head. Olivia's tether map shook and within a second whispers started in her head.

Malia, Malia, Malia...Stiles, Stiles, Stiles...

"Let her go," Stiles whispered.

At the same time as Olivia spoke directly to the Nogitsune. "I know you can hear me. Let them go."

The Nogitsune only replied to Stiles. "Let me in."

Olivia closed her eyes and centered herself, hoping if she grouped all her energy in one place, she would be able to somehow communicate with Stiles. "Fight, Stiles," she whispered, clenching her fists together. "Please fight."

Stiles' tether flared slightly and Olivia could hear him tugging on his restraints, grunting with effort. "You can do this, Stiles."

"Stiles," the Nogitsune hissed; Stiles' tether trembled. "Do you want her to leave here alive? Do you want us to leave? We can walk out of this place."

Olivia shook her head and kept her eyes shut, as she fought to get Stiles' attention. "Stiles! Please, please listen to me."

She didn't know what to do. She couldn't save him, she couldn't save Malia. She couldn't do anything.

"Just let her go, please." Stiles whispered.

Olivia opened her eyes; she watched as the Nogitsune slowly walked to Stiles' side. "Let me in," his whispered voice slowly grew louder as Stiles sobbed and thrashed against the restraints holding him, absolutely crushing Olivia's heart. "Let me in. Let me in. LET ME IN! Let me in and I'll let her live!"

Stiles, Stiles, Stiles...

"STILES!"

His tether pulsed brightly before extinguishing all together. As a sob left Olivia's lips, she came back to herself. She was back in the animal clinic and there were hands on her shoulders. It was Scott who was in front of her, slightly shaking her out of her vision of Malia, Stiles, and the Nogitsune. Dr. Deaton stood just behind him, looking at her with concern.

"Olivia, what just happened?" he asked calmly.

"The Nogitsune, he pulled me into Stiles' head. I mean, I think it was his head," she tried to explain through her sobs. She wasn't usually a crier, but her heart just positively ached and she couldn't quite find relief. "He's got Stiles again and..." she paused, reaching out for Stiles' tether, only to find it still gone. "he's not there. His tether's not there!"

And without Stiles' tether, Olivia felt weak, like she was just floating through the air. Her chest ached, her breathing quickened, and she felt like she was going to pass out. She must have stumbled, because next thing she knew, Scott was pulling her into a tight hug. She squeezed her eyes shut and clung to him tightly, not even bothering to stamp down her cries. She didn't have the will to, unfortunately.

For the first time, Olivia understood what it felt like to live without an anchor.