divine || emptier than the void pt. ii

v.

- - - - - -

Scott crouched next to where Stiles had slipped down to the floor, looking gaunt and pale. He'd lost weight during the coma, of course, but now he looked like a ghost.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked, and Stiles stared blearily up at him.

"What's happening to me?" he gasped, using a limp hand to wipe at the sweat that had gathered on his forehead.

Scott bit his lip and sat back on his heels. "That's actually what I wanted to come and talk to you about," he said. "Allison and I have been...seeing things, and we think it has something to do with the sacrifice. I mean, I know you're dealing with all---this---but have you noticed anything...different about yourself? Anything that could be the side effects of, you know, dying in an ice bath?"

Stiles glared at him and opened his mouth to respond, but the door banged open and Allison stormed in, followed by a hesitant Lydia.

"Guys, what's going on?" a livid Allison demanded, gesturing to where both of the boys were sitting on the floor. "Scott, you just said you needed to 'take care' of something, and then you bolted."

"And you could've done that without barging into the men's restroom," Lydia grumbled, wrinkling her nose.

"I needed to help Stiles." Scott clenched his jaw and his eyes flashed. "Now, can we have some privacy? Or do you have to be following me everywhere?"

Allison softened. "Is it happening to him, too?"

"We'll talk about it later!" Scott snapped. "I'll be out in a second."

As soon as the door slammed closed, Stiles smiled sadistically up at his best friend. "You still love her, don't you?"

"What?" Scott gave his head a shake and offered Stiles his arm. "Look, man, she's dating Isaac. And...I have another girl in mind."

Stiles pushed Scott's hand away and tried to stand up by himself, but he lost his balance and started to topple over. Scott steadied him, much to his chagrin, and kept an arm wrapped around his shoulders as they made their way outside to where the girls were waiting in the break room.

"Wow, are you okay?" Allison blurted as the door closed behind them. Lydia was inspecting the coffee pot. "You don't look too good."

Stiles slipped out of Scott's hold and limped over to a table, collapsing into one of the chairs. "I'm fine," he rasped, "though it's really none of your business, now is it, Allison?"

Allison was stunned into silence and exchanged a worried glance with Scott, who shrugged helplessly.

"Okay..." She cleared her throat. "Look, Scott and I have been having weird hallucinations. We think it's related to what Deaton said about there being a darkness around our hearts after the sacrifice."

Stiles stared back at her without uttering a word, his gaze cool and defiant. Scott pulled up a chair next to him.

"Stiles, we just want to make sure you're okay," he said. "We know you're having side effects of the accident, but we just want to make sure they're not from the sacrifice, not things that we can fix using---"

"Side effects?" Stiles mumbled, his jaw starting to shake from suppressed anger. "Don't go prancing around eggshells for my sake, Scott. I've lost my mind."

"You haven't lost your mind." Lydia planted her hand loudly on the table and pointed a coffee stick at him with the other. "That's the effects of the sacrifice playing with you. That accident didn't change you as much as you're thinking."

Stiles shook his head.

"You don't know that," he hissed, amber eyes flickering up at her. They sparked with sudden anger. "You don't know me. Not anymore."

- - - - - -

The next thing Stiles knew, he was coughing and spluttering himself awake, a freezing cold liquid running out of his nose. He gagged in disgust.

"What---"

"Sniff, don't wipe!" his dad said sternly from where he was kneeling in front of him, swatting Stiles' sleeve away from his nose. "That's your rescue medicine. You need it. And this stuff's expensive, so you'd better inhale every last drop I just squirted into your nose."

Stiles sniffed, feeling his face burn as he realized he was sitting in a chair in his dad's office, his three friends standing across the room. His jaw, shoulders, and left arm moaned with aches. He took a deep breath to calm himself, trying not to retch at the bittersweet scent of the medicine as it ran down his throat.

"What happened?" he asked. "I was just taking a walk around the station, then..."

"You had another seizure," his dad explained, touching a gentle hand to the side of Stiles' face. Stiles melted into the warm, fatherly gesture, but for some reason Scott looked surprised.

"Another one?" He tried to think back. Everything was one big blur of lights, sounds, and...and gasoline. He remembered standing in the men's restroom, the smell of gasoline enveloping him as his head started to twitch.

"I had a seizure in the bathroom," he said aloud, and Scott nodded. "Well, what happened after that? I couldn't have been seizing this entire time, could I? What time is it?"

"It's been two hours." Lydia stepped forward, frowning. "Two hours since we've been here."

His dad nodded. "Three for you."

"We met in the break room after I found you in the bathroom," Scott said. "We tried to talk, but...you got kinda testy when we tried to take you back to your dad."

Stiles frowned, pushing himself up into a sitting position and staring up at Scott.

"I don't remember any of that," he said earnestly, making Scott's brow wrinkle in thought. "It's like a...a blackout."

"You are acting like a totally different person in between your episodes," Scott said. "Could it just be some sort of split-persona thing?"

Stiles scoffed. "God, I hope not. Becoming the Green Goblin is not on my bucket list."

No one said anything more, but Stiles could practically feel the room breathe a sigh of relief. Stiles was back, the real one. At least for now.