Game Changer

Part 2

Sitting beside the Void on the couch, you felt like you were sitting next to a corpse. If it weren't for the slow and steady heartbeat, you would have had to look twice just to be sure. A glance Lydia's way across the room told you she felt the same way. Looking back to the Nogitsune beside you, you took a deep breath, knitting your eyebrows together disapprovingly at the raised eyebrow and muffled laughter he gave through the tape over his mouth.

"Scott, are you sure about this?" You voiced your concern to the Alpha behind you, keeping your eyes on the shell of your best friend beside you, not trusting him any further than you could throw him.

"I'm not sure about anything anymore," Scott muttered under his breath, realizing you heard him when you cut your glance his way for only a second, wide eyed, before returning your gaze to the Nogitsune. "Something has to work. Right?" His voice was stronger, but the question at the end had a bit of a falter.

"That's not what I want to hear when you have your claws to the back of my neck." You heard Peter chuckle from behind you where he was helping Scott to align his claws on your spine. "Much less when Mr. Homicidal-Zombie-Werewolf-Hellbent-On-Revenge is the one helping you." Peter snorted in annoyance, making you smile. "What, do you have a better nickname, Peter?"

His voice sounded distracted as he did final checks to the alignment of Scott's claws. "How about when this is all over, if you make it out alive, you can just call me 'hero'? How does that sound?"

You huffed, looking straight forward again at the group gathered across the room. "It sounds like you don't think this is going to work, either."

"Come on, have a little faith, Y/N," Lydia said, her eyes wide in a dead giveaway that she herself didn't have much, either.

"Better yet, have hope," Derek said softly, placing a comforting hand on Lydia's shoulder. "We're due a win."

Deaton smiled reassuringly across the room at you. "Come on, Y/N. This all hinges on you. No pressure." His smile grew on the last words. "If you go in thinking you've already lost, you will." You nodded in understanding. "Go in thinking you have a fighting chance, and I believe you have every chance to change the tide. I believe in you. We all do." He looked around at the group surrounding him across the room, and you didn't miss his pointed stare willing them to nod in agreement whether they actually believed it or not.

"Ready when you are," Peter mumbled, nodding to Scott once in confirmation, before making his way across the room to join the others.

You felt a shift in power, and you knew Scott had his eyes glowing, keeping his shift right on the edge. Letting your own eyes glow, you waited, ignoring the gentle shake of the Nogitsune's shoulders in silent laughter, before you felt Scott's claws sink into your neck, and it all went black.

Xxx

You were face to face with the long stretch of lockers you passed every day. The one in front of you open wide as the bell blared to your back. It had an odd echoing sound to it, adding distance to it's vicinity that didn't match it's location. The same applied to the multitude of lockers slamming shut around you by faceless blurs of students that seemed to pass you by without a glance. The steps echoed hollowly, a faint ringing present in the background.

You looked down to the books clutched tightly to your chest, finding their names a jumbled mess.

"I see you have the same assignment as me," a familiar voice said from across the hallway, and you looked up to find yourself eye to eye with Stiles himself. His lopsided grin disarmingly sincere.

Your heart stopped for a minute. Surely this wasn't all that easy. After everything you'd been through, surely the Nogitsune wouldn't let you off that easily. But you were willing to play.

Grinning, you studied the jumbled mess of a book cover once again, before handing it to him. "Of course! Go figure. Coach seems to have forgotten our failed attempt last year. Or he remembered and is just evil."

"Nah, he probably thinks he is helping us mend some bridges or something."

You snorted a laugh, looking down to the remaining books in your clutches, before looking back up to see the hallways now coated in toilet paper, a fire alarm sounding from somewhere down the hall.

Reaching his hand out to ruffle your hair playfully, Stiles admonished, "Geeze, I guess that roll hit you a little harder than I thought. Sorry. That's what I get for springing for the two ply instead of one."

You blinked a few times, looking around the hallway, seeing the drastic shift to Mischief Night weeks ago. Only, it didn't make sense. Stiles was the one that had pulled the fire alarm, yet here he was in front of you, holding a roll of toilet paper. Coach should have escorted him out by now, you had watched it happen.

"Woah. I was just joking," Stiles continued, his face concerned. "I know this roll hit you in the head, but it can't have been that hard."

Stiles had gotten hit in the face, not you. This was wrong.

"Are you okay?" He reached out, gripping your forearm lightly, causing you to look down to the books once again.

"Yeah, I'm fi-" Looking up, you were back at the winter formal last year, the room matching your memory to a T, looking down to find the books had turned into a table, and you now were in your dress.

Looking back up to Stiles, he pulled on his grip on your forearm, making you rise to your feet. "Hey, pretty lady, you need to dance that frown away!" That was corny, even for him. And his hair was long, not buzzed like it had been at the formal. This wasn't right. None of this was right.

Allowing the Void to pull you onto the dance floor, you tried not to shudder as he pulled you close, swaying to the slow beat of the song. Tucking his head into your hair that draped over your shoulder, taking a deep breath and letting it out against your neck, causing you to stiffen, you heard him chuckle darkly.

"Have you had enough fun, yet?" The voice of the Void caused anger to boil in your stomach. "Because, my, oh, my.... I'm having a blast." You could feel his lips twist up into a smile against your hair. "Reliving some of your greatest hits.... Isn't that everyone's dream? I know it has been for me." Pulling back just enough to see your face, his lips twisted into his signature smirk, his eyes sparking dangerously. "Making Stiles do all those things.... Those horrible, terrible, heartbreaking things...."

You blinked once as you stared up at him, ignoring the push and pull he used to keep you moving to the beat, holding his stare until you faintly heard the song change to a more upbeat tune. Your voice was low and steady, and it startled even yourself the amount of malice it held. "You are one sick, twisted, delusional, messed up, disgusting-"

"Such a flowery description," he mused with a smirk.

"Son of a bitch," you finished blandly. You held your straight face despite his dark chuckle.

Shaking his head slowly in amusement, he leaned back down into your neck and spoke quietly. His voice had a cold, dangerous edge to it that made your skin crawl. "Well, that's just too bad.... Because I had an offer that I have a feeling you wouldn't turn down. Not if you wanted to get Stiles back, like you so desperately claim."

"Don't you dare twist my words. You know very well I would do anything to get Stiles back."

His lips turned up evilly. "Anything?"

Your blood ran cold. You swallowed the lump in your throat. Clearing it roughly, you forced the words past your lips, ignoring the crawling sense of fear tugging at the back of your mind at his implications. "Anything."