Deception || s. stilinski [2]

just like derek

It's not life or death.

Despite this, Stiles does not kill Scott, but opts for glaring at him as they arrive outside the animal clinic to talk with Deaton about what has been happening in the past few weeks. Bea and Scott listen as Stiles explains his daydream that happened in Coach's class earlier.

The redhead grips his hand throughout his explanation, running her thumb across the back of his hand. It's an action that does not go unnoticed by Scott, a ghost of a smirk tilting up his lips.

"It sounds like your subconscious is trying to communicate with you," Deaton explains as Stiles finishes his dream of walking into Coach's classes and the students reciting sign language.

"Well, how do I tell my subconscious to use a language I actually know?' Stiles questions, getting frustrated with the whole situation. Bea squeezes his hand, making him breathe out a sigh. She can feel his anxiousness, and she only wishes there is something she could do to calm him down.

"Do you remember what the sign language looked like? The placement and the movement of the hands?"

"You know sign language?" Scott asks his boss in surprise, his brows raised.

The doctor glances at his apprentice, modestly replying, "I know a little."

"Okay, the first one was like this," Stiles starts, drawing the dark-skinned man's attention back to him. He points his pointer finger toward the ceiling while circling his other one around it.

"That's when," Deaton informs.

"Then, there was this, twice." Stiles places his hands together, palms flat, and flicking one hand back toward his chest.

"That's door," Bea throws in when Deaton hesitates. The three males turn to her with raised eyebrows. She rolls her eyes at their surprise. "You're really surprised? I read."

Stiles simply shakes his head at the girl, an amused glint in his eyes as he turns back to the vet as Deaton asks, "Was there anything else?"

"And this between it," Stiles continues, dragging his thumb off the bottom of his chin while his other fingers make a fist.

"That's it?" Stiles responds with a nod. Deaton takes a breath, glancing between the three teens before he translates, "When is a door not a door?"

"When is a door not a door?" Stiles repeats, his eye twitching in annoyance at the riddle his mind has given him.

"When it's ajar," Scott solves, his face perking up as he answers the riddle.

"You're kidding me. A riddle? My subconscious wants to tell me a riddle?" Bea can hear the frustration in the boy's voice.

Everyone has it, but no one can lose it. That same voice of the gauze-covered man echoes through Bea's head, causing her body to tense. She hopes no one notices the way most of the color drains from her face, a chill running up her spine.