divine || emptier than the void pt. ii

- - - - - -

Lydia was pounding on Scott's door before he and Isaac had even pulled their jackets on and gotten their helmets.

"It's Stiles," she'd said as soon as the door opened. "He's in trouble."

"How do you know?" Isaac asked before Scott had even opened his mouth.

Lydia pursed her overly-glossed lips and crossed her arms tightly across her chest. "He's...whispering to me," she said. "Whispering my name, asking for help, which only ever happened when he was in a coma. And there's another voice there, one that's just repeating the same thing over and over. And--and I can hear this blowing wind, smell this horrible thing---"

"Gasoline," Scott interrupted, hopes plummeting as Lydia nodded. "You're smelling gasoline. It's what Stiles smells before he has a seizure, like a hallucination."

Isaac zipped up his jacket. "What's the other voice saying, Lydia?"

She took in a trembling breath, rubbing her arms to try and flatten the goosebumps.

"Let me through."

- - - - - -

Despite Stiles' wishes, they called the police department and got a search warrant out for him. They spent half the night looking for the boy, chasing false leads, but everything came to no avail. Until Scott, Melissa, and Lydia teamed up to search the school, Isaac having gone to find Allison and Derek.

"You said he thought he was in a parking lot?" Melissa asked as they drove through the sprinkling rain. Scott's heart hammered in his throat, and he had to cough before he could speak.

"He said it was dark, but he was pretty sure it was a parking lot." Scott glanced at Lydia, who was making herself as small as possible in the backseat. Her green eyes were staring earnestly out the window, lights of passing cars making her blink. "And...he said something about being trapped underneath a tire."

"A tire?" Melissa scoffed and shook her head. "Okay, well, as soon as we find him, we'll have to call down the medical personnel so they can---"

"But what if he's just asleep?" Lydia said suddenly, voice even more high-pitched and soft than usual. She hadn't spoken the whole drive. "What if he's still sleeping, and he just thinks that he's pinned underneath a tire?"

"That's a good point." Scott rubbed at his chin and tapped his fingers impatiently as they got closer and closer to the school. "How will we be able to tell? And how will we know which Stiles will we be waiting for us?"

Melissa sighed. "We won't, not until we find him."

They didn't speak again until they pulled into the main parking lot, Scott leaning forward in his seat to see if he could spot Stiles or the jeep.

All of the lampposts were out except for the one in the center, shining directly over the wretched blue jeep that had made all of this happen in the first place. The hood was coated in gray primer, but otherwise it had come away from the accident with hardly any damage compared to Stiles. Which made Scott curl his fists in anger.

"There!" he shouted, and he was thrown back against the seat as Melissa revved the engine, swerving into an adjacent spot.

Scott had his seatbelt off and was jumping out of the car before Melissa had put it into park. Stiles' scent was everywhere, mixed with panic and anxiety. Sprinting over to the other side of the jeep, Scott nearly fainted with relief when he found Stiles laying next to it, sobbing. His leg wasn't trapped underneath the tire, but his shoelaces were.

"Stiles," Scott said, taking his best friend in his arms and trying to pull his shoelaces away from the tire. Stiles' arms lashed out and he scrabbled at the ground, screaming.

"Wait!" he cried. His shoelaces snapped off, and Scott dragged him forwards on the slippery surface, making him scream and fight harder.

Melissa was on the ground next to Scott in a heartbeat, taking Stiles in her arms and holding him close.

"You're okay, Stiles!" she shouted, shushing him and clutching him in her lap like he was her toddler son who had had a bad day. "You're alright." 

Scott heard his heartbeat start to slow. His screams dried up in his throat as he realized who was sitting in front of him, his terrified brown eyes melting into embarrassment as he stared at Scott.

"There," Melissa said soothingly as Stiles let out a shaky breath, grabbing desperately at Melissa's arms.

"Stiles, are you okay?" Scott asked. Stiles spat out a weak, nervous laugh, pushing himself away from Melissa and staggering to his feet. Scott reached out his hands to steady his friend, but Stiles leaned against the jeep for support.

"I'm...just dandy," Stiles gasped, swiping a hand across his nose. He was drenched in sweat and rain, smeared with some dirt from the pavement. "You...you found me, Scotty, I said you would, didn't I?"

Scott stared at Stiles, the weight of everything that had happened within the last month pressing down onto his shoulders, crushing him harder than anything that had ever happened in his life.

Right here in front of him stood his best friend since age four when they'd met each other in a sandbox, shaking from a night of sleepwalking and night terrors. They'd searched for him for hours, and Scott hadn't known if he was seizing, conscious, or dead. Dead from problems with his brain caused by an accident, an accident Scott wasn't there to protect him from. The boy who had always supported Scott with a smile and a joke was now hanging on by a thread.

He didn't realize he was crying until Stiles had pulled him into a hug, begging him to stop.

"I'm right here, Scotty," he whispered. "It's okay. I'm sorry for scaring you. Please don't cry. It's me."

"I--I know," Scott choked out, squeezing Stiles back harder. "You--you just scared me."

Stiles pulled away, giving a halfhearted smirk. "I thought alphas didn't get scared?"

Scott's gaze dropped to the ground, where Lydia stood a few feet away, looking shocked.

"We do when our best friend is in danger."

Lydia's shoes clicked on the ground as she stepped forward hesitantly, looking Stiles up and down. For some reason, distrust flashed in her eyes.

"We need to get him to Deaton," she said. "I think he can help."