CORRUPTION || Teen Wolf

EFFECT.

SUMMER was spent waking up from nightmares.

Void roamed the depths of his mind, and never failed to jump out when Stiles was alone in his bed, wondering just how much had been Void and how much had been Stiles Stilinski, Robin, the sidekick, Scott McCall's best friend. It was hard to unravel the ball of strings left behind by Void in his head. 

Instability and unsurety was a common feeling in his chest, his memories were all over the place, once Void had stumbled in, he'd warped everything. The only things he remembered were from before, everything in the middle was muddled. He'd been so scattered that Scott had to tell him that Allison had died.

"I'm sorry." He whispered to the air. 

Stiles was smart, he knew everything, and if he didn't then his gut did. He didn't believe in god explicitly, though he secretly liked to think that there was an omnipresent entity looking down on them, and occasionally listening to their wishes. He'd come into the habit of going on his knees and looking up at his ceiling, imagining there to be a benevolent face looking down at him; oddly, he imagined it to be his mother's face.

"I'm sorry for all the hurt that I've caused," He said through furrowed eyebrows and a quivering chin, "I didn't mean to kill her. I didn't mean to hurt all my friends, I didn't mean to hurt Dad... please, believe me. Please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He lowered his head, repeating the words over and over again. When he was feeling happy enough, he liked to think of Scott and wonder if his best friend hated him, after all, he had taken his first love away - he had taken Allison away, and there was no forgiving that. Sometimes, he wondered if Scott was lying to him, feigning his affection, feigning his support. Maybe he hated Stiles but couldn't leave him out of pity. Maybe everyone hated him, Scott, Issac, Lydia, Derek and even, for fuck's sake, Peter.

He closed his eyes tightly, feeling his heart bang against his ribcage like a wrongly imprisoned criminal. He could feel it, a whisper, breath hitting the side of his face and ear, "What're you sorry for?"

"Do you know what God hates more than sinners? Liars," 

Stiles' heart dropped, anxiety flooded his stomach, "No."

At his whisper, a voice eerily similar to his own giggled into his ear, "Why're you lying, Stiles? You loved it, you loved having that power at you're fingertips, you loved hurting everyone - face it, you even loved killing that guy's girlfriend!"

"I didn't -"

"You did," He could imagine it, face wrapped in bandages, hands dirty with blood, grabbing his shoulder, grabbing his face, grabbing his soul and forcing him back to where he'd been, back to that basement, locked with a body in the wall, forced to stay alone, quiet and dark, "You did. You've always wanted power, a way to save people, a way to have saved your mother,"

"No."

"You almost did it, you almost took Peter up on his offer," Stiles could see Peter now, red eyes, clawed hand extended to him, a promise for everything he'd wished for, "And when you let your stupidity chase the chance away, you spent hours kicking yourself, wishing Peter would come back and bite you, to hell with the consequences, right?"

"No. No. NO!" Stiles screamed, pushing himself onto his feet, whirling around with his arms raised, he couldn't fight for shit but he wasn't going down without a fight. He would do anything to avoid going back to where he'd been, "NOT AGAIN! NOT AGAIN! I'M NEVER GOING BACK TO YOU! YOU DON'T EXIST! WE CHANGED YOU! VOID IS DEAD! YOU'RE DEAD!"

"I'm not Void." 

The voice didn't belong to a body. Stiles' heart almost jumped out into his throat.

"I'm you."

A hand ripped into his abdomen from the back, his intestines fell out with gallons of blood and Stiles screamed but no sound came out, he fell to his knees, looking down at the clawed hand in his gut. Cruel laughter echoed in his ears and he struggled, fought, but no one heard him. 

No one helped him.

He couldn't save himself.

"You can't save anyone."

Then he woke up.