Shatter My Reality

Scent

Derek had to get out of the loft. As much as he loved having everyone stay with him, it was too much sometimes. Mostly because Stiles was there. He could handle Stiles coming around in short bursts, but now that he was living in his space, sleeping in the next room...

Derek bolted into the woods, letting his wolf take over as if he could outrun his feelings. The cool air whipped around him as he sped through the trees. A sudden scent sent him nearly careening into a tree as he put on the brakes. His feet skid through the underbrush.

He raised his head, trying to catch the scent again. If he wasn't mistaken, it smelled like Stiles. He backtracked until it reached his nose once more.

It was Stiles, except it wasn't. There was something off. It was like Stiles' scent had been dipped in something else as if it were trying to be a different one. It was mixed with another scent Derek was familiar with, Ozone. He only ever smelled Ozone on Stiles when he was doing magic.

Derek, followed it, careful to keep his footing light. Stiles was at the loft though, he was sure of it. He was at least a half mile from the loft, so unless Stiles snuck out right after Derek left, there was no way it was Stiles.

Derek reached the edge of the woods and watched as a figure approached a jeep that wasn't Stiles'. For starters it wasn't a Wrangler like Stiles', it was a Cherokee. And it wasn't the terrible blue color Derek had grown to love. It was a deep Navy.

Derek stepped towards the edge and inhaled. This was the scent. He strained his eyes as the figure turned, climbing into the jeep. There was no mistaking it, that was Stiles. He had the same mousy brown hair and whiskey-colored eyes. The same jawline and upturned nose.

Anger and confusion swept over Derek as Stiles pulled away.

What was he doing out alone? It wasn't safe. And where did he get that jeep? Derek pulled out his phone, a low growl escaping his throat as he dialed Stiles' number.

-

Stiles tossed, the blanket tangling around his legs. He turned, causing the sheets to slid further down the bed.

The sound of footsteps behind him had him frozen in place. He was in Eichen. The echo of his steps growing nearer made Stiles flinch with each step. His own feet still unable to move.

"You can't kill me, I'm a thousand years old." The voice shouted in his ear. He

clenched his eyes shut. But he could feel the breath on his ear.

"Open your eyes, Stiles."

Stiles remained unmoving, his eyes screwed shut.

"Open your eyes. See who you really are."

Stiles didn't move.

"Open them!" The voice shouted.

Stiles opened his eyes. He was in the bathroom at Eichen, a dirty mirror on the wall in front of him. His reflection in the mirror wasn't his but the nogitsune as him. His face pale and eyes dark, his lips dry and cracking.

"You can't get rid of me so easily. I'm a part of you." His reflection spoke.

Stiles shook his head, tears brimming in his eyes.

"Deny it all you want, you know it's true. The magic you wield, it's not yours. It's mine."

"No," Stiles spat.

"You're using my magic. How do you think that will end for your friends?"

"You're wrong."