LOST SOULS!
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
if you want to end it, then end it.

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     𝕿𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 𝑾𝑬𝑹𝑬 𝑴𝑨𝑵𝒀 TIMES IN A DAY WHEN ADRIAN MARTIN WOULD WONDER TO HIMSELF: "WHAT ON EARTH AM I DOING". There were so many occurrences, but this one really took the cake as he said the phrases out loud repeatedly, almost like a mantra. As he hurried to the clinic where Scott worked, he used vocal persuasion to try to put up a barrier between himself and his conscience because the words in his head weren't persuasive enough. He said everything he didn't want to hear.

Unfortunately, the clinic was too far of a journey on foot. By the time he got there, Scott and Stiles would already be on their way to carry out whatever illogical scheme they had devised. Adrian wouldn't be able to get a hold of them after that, so he was forced to buy a bus ticket with his lunch money.

If you had told Adrian "wealthy, arrogant, star-player, pretty boy" Martin a year ago that he would be riding on public busses for none other than Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski of all people, he would've laughed in your face. The Martin family don't take the bus, so if anyone asks . . . he was never on one.

"Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of yours." Adrian flinched as he finally stepped off the bus, his heart flying high up in his chest when he heard the accented voice and accompanying steps magically walking beside him.

Cursing under his breath, the redhead stopped his hasty steps, which the blond soon imitated. "Jesus. Can't you wear a bell or something?"

"You'll get used to it." Toby Valack predicted with a shrug, his arms folded over his slim frame as they walked together. The clinic was now within eyesight, a distant blur that they advanced towards.

No further words were shared between them, but Adrian could tell from the persistent side glances that his friend had something to say. He eventually grew to be impatient with every step they took in silence, making it all the way to the front of the building before he snapped and spoke his mind. "Before you make your smartass comments, this doesn't mean anything."

He could feel the smile that spread across the young boy's face. "Oh? It doesn't?"

"No. It doesn't." Adrian declared strongly, shooting him a glare. "I'd just rather not have blood on my hands."

Too late, a sad part of him thought.

"And what do you plan on doing in there exactly?" Toby raised a quizzical brow, as if interrogating him.

"Simple. I go in; find those two losers; get a quick debriefing on all of their problems; make sure nobody is dead, and then I'll go."

Toby looked as though he wanted to laugh at his words, but he knew better. "Right, because that's totally normal for someone who claims that they don't care about the supernatural and the people involved with it."

"You know, I'd be threatening to kill you right about now if it wasn't so inappropriate." Adrian deadpanned, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steel bar handles of the entrance. Turning back to his friend, he pointed a warning finger at him. "And, just for the record, I don't care."

"You do care." Toby smiled a little, almost sadly. "A lot more than you're ready to give yourself credit for."

The words were like rabies to Adrian, a frustrated growl escaping him as he lashed out. "God dammit! I don't! I don't care!" His jaw was clenched as he swiftly smacked his palm against the glass of the clinic door, causing it to rattle under the force. "Why does everyone suddenly think they know me better than I know myself nowadays?"

His heart was a lump of chewed-up food in his mouth, the back of his throat tingling with a stretching burn as he released the bars. His full attention was now on the Valack boy as he stepped towards him. Under his wintry gaze, Toby drew back but didn't look away. You could feel the level of strength in both of their irises as they focused in on one another.

No further words were exchanged between the two friends due to the animal clinic door unexpectedly creaking open with a cautionary grip that was too close and obvious to ignore. Whirling around, Adrian's face paled at the sight of his ex-boyfriend's father, who had been watching him yell into the open air as if he was talking to someone, now watching him in concern as the older man raised an ill-eased brow.

"Adrian," It was more of a pronouncement rather than a greeting conducted towards the teen, speaking to him like he was just some random kid he had found wandering around the lonesome streets. "you okay there, son?"

"H-Hey, Mr Stilinski!" Adrian greeted, internally cringing at the way his voice broke. "Didn't see you there. Uh, and yeah! Yeah, I'm fine. Never been better!" He ended strongly, too strong to have been genuine — which it wasn't. "Umm . . . are Scott and Stiles here?"

"Yeah. They're both inside." Noah nodded, looking behind him for effect. When he turned back to face the nervous redhead, he leant against the doorframe with folded arms. "Any reason why you need to see them so urgently that you came all the way here?"

"Oh. I just," Adrian trailed off, not quite knowing how to respond. With the way that the man was seizing him up and down, Adrian had a pretty good guess as to what he could potentially be thinking about: the recent breakup between him and his son. "Scott . . . was just going to give me something for my sister's dog. She hasn't been feeling too well recently."

Noah kept his brows up. "Shouldn't Lydia be the one coming here then?"

"She was busy with something, so she sent me instead."

"Quite a coincidence that she sends you on a day where my son just so happens to be here too."

"I know. What are the odds." Adrian releases a fake chuckle through his gritted teeth that fought to hold its smile. "Crazy how things like that just happen."

"Adrian," Oh shit, the redhead thought as the man stepped towards him. The look in the man's eyes took him off guard, displaying a side of the sheriff he had never seen before. In that moment, this wasn't just Beacon Hill's sheriff; this was Stiles Stilinski's father. "I like you, but don't you go around playing with my boy's heart. If you want to end it, then end it. Don't leave a bookmark for opening this all back up whenever you feel like it."

It was a piece of advise mostly, but Adrian was aware that the words held a layer of disgust for him. He understood why; any parent would be wary of him after what he had done to their kid. It wasn't lost on Adrian that he had hurt Stiles, and badly — probably more than he needed to. The additional heartache had been for his own benefit, to make sure that he broke whatever bond he shared with the Stilinski teen so that it could never be fixed.

Adrian had walked away from every shattered piece, leaving Stiles to scrape what he could back up. And now, Noah thought he was back to break everything all over again.

While Scott and Stiles were trying to protect the town from the supernatural, Noah Stilinski was trying to protect them from him.

"I . . ."

"Adrian?" It was Scott, appearing behind the sheriff as he looked at the redhead in surprise. "You're here."

"Yeah. Well, you know, someone had to get Prada's medication." Adrian was quick to respond, widening his eyes a bit in the hopes that it was enough to encourage the werewolf to play along. "Sorry that it's me instead of Lydia. You know how she is with all her . . . stuff."

"Huh? Yeah. Oh, yeah." Scott nodded, eventually getting the hint as the sheriff looked to him for confirmation. The McCall boy tried his best to sound convincing as he waved him inside. "Come on in. I'll get that sorted for you. I was wanting to talk with you about something actually."

"I'm all ears." The minute there was space, Adrian hopped through the door and into the clinic as he walked beside Scott. Noah was trailing slowly behind them, thankfully no longer within hearing distance. "You do know that Prada isn't sick, right?"

"Yeah, Adrian. I know."

"Good. I was beginning to worry that I would have to Google awful dog diseases to sound more convincing."

Scott just chuckled, turning his head. "Let me guess; he thought you were here for Stiles?"

"Yeah." Adrian huffed out, a lot quicker than intended. He defensively pointed a finger at the werewolf before he could accuse him of anything. "But that's not why I'm here!"

"Okay." Scott complied, but he did so with the dumb smile that made you want to punch something repeatedly.

"I'm serious."

"I know." The McCall boy's face had never looked more punchable.

Rolling his eyes, Adrian decided he no longer wanted to talk about his reasons for being here. It was then that he noticed the concerning number of police officers around the place. "What's with the cops anyway? How many crimes can be committed in an animal clinic?"

"Deaton's been taken."

"Shit."

"Yeah. Shit." Scott agreed. "We don't know much right now, but we're running out of time."

"Well, that's encouraging." Adrian scoffed, his eyes instantly catching a familiar pattern of plaid as he stopped dead in his tracks.

Stiles was leaning up against the wall, arms folded across his chest as he impatiently waited for more information. In his eagerness, Stiles swiftly threw his whole body over to face Scott the second he heard his footsteps. When he saw that his best friend wasn't alone, he froze.

For a long moment, Adrian and Stiles just stared at one another; their bodies wouldn't allow anything else. The different mixture of emotions swirling in them proved to be quite the concoction as their stomachs churned. Scott watched in anticipation, hoping one of them would have the guts to break the silence.

Neither of them were ready to pull that plug as Noah came up to them.

"Alright, we're gonna do everything we can. Right now, the best thing you can do is go back to school." His voice was vacant of hope as he directed them at Scott sympathetically. Adrian could tell that he was trying to go with the soft reassurance technique, a telltale sign that it was all going downhill from here.

So I just left school only to be told I need to go back? Adrian felt like every higher power in the universe was working against him as he threw his head back until it lightly hit the wall, continuing the motion to conceal his irritation.

Stiles and Scott just nodded to show that they understood, silently thanking him as the sheriff got whisked away from them again. The second Noah turned his back on the three teens, Adrian's head was planted in his hands.

"Rough day?" Scott asks from beside him, giving him a loose smile. It was clear that neither of them were having the best day today. He was also unable to forget the state Adrian had been in when he first walked into English class, setting his werewolf senses on fire.

"You have no idea." The redheaded teen grumbled, pulling on a strand of his messy hair. "But, something tells me that things aren't gonna get much better with what you're about to tell me."

Scott could only offer a pitiful smile. "If you're up for it."

Well, he was here now. Might as well. "Lay it on me, McCall."

Wanting to maintain their supernatural privacy, Scott nodded to a door that read: "Cats Clinic"

Adrian's shoulders immediately deflated upon reading the sign. "I'm not going to see a dead cat in there, am I?"

Not wanting to make any empty promises, Scott shrugged. "Maybe a ghost one." This gained a fake, dry laugh from the redhead, who then flung open the door and stepped inside.

Scott and Stiles weren't far behind him. For a split second, Adrian and the Stilinski boy met eyes. They immediately diverted their attention elsewhere, trying to maintain as much distance as they could in this scenario. It wasn't discreet, despite their attempts, but Scott chose not to comment on it. That was for a later time.

Instead, he faced Stiles to effectively tell him what he's been thinking. "We have to tell him."

Adrian casted his eyes over to Stiles before he could stop himself, gauging his reaction as the boy bowed his neck in disbelief. "You mean, like, "tell him" tell him? Or tell him something else that isn't telling him what I think you want to tell him? Do you remember how your mum reacted? She didn't look you in the eye for, like, a week."

"And she got over it," Scott whispered slowly, hoping to get through to his best friend.

"My mother wouldn't." Adrian deadpanned, shrugging when Scott gave him an ungrateful look. "Just saying."

"Well, it actually made us closer." Scott tried again, now knowing he was trying to convince two people instead of one.

Stiles just shook his head, unsure and hesitant. It was understandable. This was his father, the only family member he had left! Exposing him to a world like this would land him in the same position they were all in: immediate danger. "I don't know, dude. I mean, look at him. Come on, he's completely overwhelmed as it is."

"He's overwhelmed because he has no clue what's happening." Scott insisted, sympathetic towards the sheriff. "He's got people dying in his town, the town that he's supposed to protect. And it's not his fault that he doesn't know what's happening. He's gonna find out sooner or later."

"Okay, but is now really the time?" Stiles looked at his friend with a strong gaze, hoping he would see it all from his point of view.

"Well, I don't think there's ever a right time." Adrian passed on, Stiles and Scott looking to him expectantly. "I'm not saying that Scott's right and you're wrong. I'm just saying that . . . there's never a right time for anything anymore."

None of them replied, letting his words linger and sink in. Scott seemed to get it before Adrian did, connecting with the redhead on a level of empathy so agonisingly understanding that he had to look away. Scott resumed his conversation with Stiles. "What if not telling him now gets someone else killed?"

"What if telling him gets him killed, huh?"
"Better them than Noah."

Adrian and Stiles' heads shot towards one another, surprised at how their words sunk together in agreement. Adrian didn't even know what he was thinking when he said it, not anticipating the fervent tone he had used.

Knowing Adrian wasn't going to explain himself, Stiles moved on. The redhead laid his head on the wall again with a low sigh.

"I mean, okay, look, I get that Deaton's been like a father to you. I get that, okay? But this isn't . . ." Stiles stopped for a short pause, finding it difficult to properly convey what was going on in his mind. "Scott, this is my actual father. I can't . . . I can't lose both of my parents, alright? Not both of them."

A dense silence fell upon the cat clinic, a small moment to let the gravity of the situation hit them. This was bigger than the three of them, branching into all aspects of their personal lives and beyond that.

They needed help but were aware of the potential outcome that came with them asking for it. The supernatural wasn't known for its mercy.

"You're right." Scott finally acquiesces, clearly sensing the current emotions hanging up in the air through his werewolf senses.

However, Stiles didn't appear to be relieved when his friend gave in. He looked sad, eyes flickering as if engaged with a conversation. His mind was who he was talking to, battling between right and wrong as he leaned against the metal crates. "No, I'm not. I'm not right." He ultimately decided. "I'll tell him."

"I'll help you." Scott promised, knowing this must be hard for his friend. He wasn't the only one who recognised it either.

Adrian knew that Scott would be there for Stiles, and maybe that was enough for the teen. It's not like him and Stiles were on the best of terms right now; he might not even want his help. Despite all that, Adrian couldn't shake the irritating burn in his chest that begged him to say something. It had been nagging him ever since he had broken up with Stiles.

Adrian was strong enough to ignore it that fateful night, but not today. He was so tired of this; of everything. His mind was exhausting, full of conflict and truths he wasn't ready to face.

He would allow it to get the better of him today, letting it take control as he spoke honestly. "We both will."

Stiles turned to face Adrian, his ex-boyfriend. He was stunned by the words, quite frankly. The wound of their breakup was still fresh, and they hadn't spoken since. A part of the two teens thought that they would never exchange words ever again.

So, seeing that Adrian had still showed up — albeit, later than he would've preferred — and chose to willingly go along with him and Scott's plan had him shocked. And, while the gesture may be small to others, it was huge coming from someone like Adrian Martin. Stiles sent a small smile of gratitude his way. "Thanks, Adrian."

All the redhead could do was nod, knowing a smile wouldn't quite reach his face in that moment as his hands plunged back into his pockets awkwardly.

Knowing that there was a high chance of Adrian changing his mind, Scott decided that now was a good time to leave the cat clinic. He didn't like the idea of the two exes sitting in such a stiff silence, preferring to keep it comfortable for now. Scott needed Stiles and Adrian to stay focused if he wanted Deaton back.

Stiles followed his friend, Adrian going after him. The redhead's eyes stayed on the back of the brunette's head, his lips set in a frown as they exited the room only to hear an oddly familiar, feminine voice.

"Please. Whatever you need, however you can help find my brother." It was a woman Adrian managed to recognise as Marin Morell, the French teacher and guidance counsellor of their school. She was talking to Noah, the odd interaction causing Stiles and Scott to look at one another with the former furrowing his brows at the werewolf.

"Will you excuse us for a minute? Thank you." She was quickly dismissed by the stressed sheriff, who walked away to discuss the matter further with his colleagues.

With him gone, Marin turned her dark-coloured eyes in the direction of the three teenage boys standing by the open door. Her kind facade had since vanished from view as she strode over to them, her heels clicking against the clinic floors. "Listen closely, all of you. No sheriff, deputy or detective is going to be able to find him."

"You don't have to ask for help." Scott shook his head, his eyes as kind as always. Adrian looked between the two, completely lost. They already had enough people to help, he thought to himself.

"Actually, I'm trying to help you. Because if you're going to find my brother, then you need to use the two people who might actually have the ability to seek out the supernatural."  The lady made her intentions known, revealing that she too was aware of Beacon Hills' dark secret.

"What? Like the ghostbusters?" Adrian snickered, seeing this whole situation as nothing but ridiculous. It was all beginning to feel like a more modern version of 'Game of Thrones' to him.

"No." Stiles, though faint, was the one to break the silence that followed. He glanced at the redhead, who still seemed lost, as he sighed. "She means you and your sister."

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Adrian disliked going to school, but he especially disliked it when he had already walked out. After their brief conversation with Ms Morell, Adrian had learned that he had a lot of catching up to do. Somehow, in the span of just a few days, Deaton had been captured with the intention of being the next human sacrifice.

And so, the start of Adrian's grief process had begun. Step one: denial.

"And you're sure he isn't just taking a day off?" Adrian checks with Stiles as they wander through the school hallways together. Scott had tasked them earlier with the responsibility of finding Lydia, leaving them to go do his own thing. Why this couldn't be a three-person job was beyond them, but the two had a sneaking suspicion as to why. After all, the McCall boy was known to push his luck. He wanted them to talk, even if it was just supernatural-related. "The guy practically lives in that clinic with how much he works."

"Well, I sincerely doubt that. Unless the person who is the cause of all these people being taken is just taking them on a nice, sunny holiday." Stiles retorts in response, his brown eyes fixated on the long halls. It appeared as though he was looking for Lydia but, in reality, he couldn't bring himself to look his ex in the eyes.

Every time he looked deep into Adrian's eyes, Stiles was suddenly standing in the Martin family's driveway all over again, staring into those green eyes and cut up lips that he prayed would show some love to him. It was a memory he would rather not replay in real time; it already chased him in his dreams, only to end with the same outcome of a door being slammed on him.

It was his worst nightmare yet.

Adrian had noticed the lack of eye contact on his side, but didn't bring it up. He accepted the reasons, but only as much as his pride would allow. He'd be lying if he said looking at Stiles didn't bring back the terrible memory of that night also.

Some people were just too shameful to admit to what they had broken.

"Why are you helping us?"

Adrian's mind short circuits at the suddenness of the question. "Huh?"

"Why are you helping us? I thought you said you were done." Stiles' tone was valid in its bitterness, but the way he said the last word was like a punch to the gut for the redhead.

Having said that, he had to play it cool. Adrian hated being wrong. That's why he barely ever admits to it. "I am, but since Lydia's name is suddenly being dragged into this mess, I have to make sure she's okay and not disappearing like everyone else in this town," His body posture was more rigid now as he spied into the classrooms.

Stiles nodded, but not in a way that accepted the answer for what it was. "And that's it?"

Was it? Deep down, there probably were more motives — whether Adrian himself acknowledged it or not. After all, he didn't go to that clinic for his sister, or even Scott.

Adrian, as much as he tolerated the McCall boy, would have let him clean up his own messes. Stiles, however, would never leave his friend behind. He had yet to fail his best friend. The same couldn't be said for Adrian.

Maybe the Stilinski boy thrived off of the adrenaline, the danger, the mystery — or maybe he was just a better person than his (now ex) boyfriend. Either way, it wasn't a quality Adrian could say he admired in times like these.

Stiles was going to end up getting himself killed one of these days, and Adrian would have to live with that; to live with the fact that he had failed yet another person in his life.

So no, maybe that wasn't it; maybe there was something more to Adrian's lame excuses. Either way, it didn't matter, because it didn't matter to Adrian. At least, that's what he told himself. 

"Yeah . . . that's it."

His saviour came in the form of a fire alarm, stealing all of the attention as its high-pitched beeps fills the school. Students began to pile out, brushing past the two teens casually.

Oh, how Adrian envied them; so free of worry, oblivious to the dangers that lurked within their hometown. To them, the supernatural was still nothing but a work of fiction. It wasn't real to them, and it infuriated him more than he'd care to admit. Why did it all have to be so real to him? Why did everything have to be real?

Adrian had soon had enough. Pushing his way through the sea of students, even shoving those that didn't get out of his way fast enough, he made his way over to the one place in school that he hoped Lydia wouldn't be in. Somehow, — call it a brotherly sense — he knew she'd be there anyway.

Stiles stumbles after him, struggling to reach him through the crowd. "Adrian! Where are you going?"

"Finstock's office," Replied Adrian, refusing to look back as Stiles' footsteps fell in tune with his own. "Knowing Lydia, she's probably got her newest boy toy in there for a make-out session and I'd prefer to get there before it escalates into something more than that."

Stiles' features scrunched up in disgust when he realised what the redhead was implying. "Finstock's office? Really?"

"She kissed Scott there, didn't she?" The image of the werewolf's greedy hands roaming all over his sister's body while outing the two boy's relationship had yet to be burned from Adrian's memory, making him mad at Scott all over again. He snapped out of it eventually, remembering that they had a job to do and he had somewhat forgiven the McCall boy for his actions on his first full moon.

Stiles seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Fair point."

Coach's office thankfully wasn't far, but it felt miles away for the two teenagers who spoke only in footsteps. It was somewhat nostalgic for Stiles, yet still completely different. He could easily recall the number of times he had walked with the redheaded boy in this direction, wanting to spend more time with him before they went their separate ways with Adrian out on the lacrosse field and Stiles banished to the bench.

Adrian's hands always seemed so close yet so far then, the feeling of them skimming along his now a ghost of a feeling, the urge to take hold of it and link their fingers together now a desire he could never fulfil.

Stiles wished his feelings for the boy flew away with all these losses, but they lingered and made him well aware of it. He still cared for Adrian, even though he knew that he shouldn't.

An unexpected "oomph" left Stiles as a hand reached out over his chest suddenly, stopping him in his tracks. The touch sent tingles down his spine as he looked to the owner of the hand, his tongue caught in the back of his throat. "A-Adrian?"

He didn't even look at him, pointing in the direction of the office instead. Following his lead, Stiles was surprised to see that Cora, Derek's younger sister, had beat them to it. The Hale girl had backed Lydia into a corner, blocking the office exit she gripped her wrist with a tight hand.

The sight made Adrian's blood boil, Stiles reaching out to hold his arm before he stopped himself. Still, his fingers grazed lightly over his skin, trying to play it cool in the hopes that the redhead didn't pick up on his instinct to hold him.

Unbeknownst to Stiles, the light touch did go noticed by the teen. Thankfully, Lydia's voice brought him out of whatever feelings he felt from it.

"Let go." Cora didn't budge, her eyes daring the young girl to challenge her and see what happens. Lydia shifted uncomfortably. "I said —"

"Let go," Adrian asserted, stepping into the scene as he glared daggers at the female Hale. "My sister said, "let go."

Cora could only laugh at the boy, flicking up a brow. "You must be Adrian, I take it." She scoffed when he said nothing in return, his face unchanging as she let Lydia go. "Your sister has horrible taste in men, by the way."

"Thanks for the observation, Cupid." Adrian gave her a fake smile, tilting his head before narrowing his eyes. "Now, what do you want?"

"You clearly want something too if we're both here," Cora mirrored the fake friendliness as she stepped closer him. "Care to share with the class?"

"Yup. Definitely Derek's sister." Stiles mumbled to himself, hand smacking against his jeans in annoyance.

The new information threw Adrian off, turning to the boy with a bewildered expression. "Derek's sister?" Stiles nodded, having forgotten that their recent breakup meant that the redhead wasn't aware of the new additions to their ever-growing problem. "You mean to tell me that the Hale family had Derek and wanted another one?"

"Well, people do quite like the thrill of trying." Stiles shrugged, instant regret flashing on his face when everyone looked at him in disapproval. "Right. Sorry. Shutting up now."

"If anyone should be asking questions right now, it's me." Lydia inserted, arms folded over as she looked between everyone. "Like, why on earth are all three of you here, and for me of all people?"

"I'm so glad you asked!" Stiles exclaimed, hands out in gesture to the Martin female, who raises a perfectly plucked brow at his sudden enthusiasm. "We need your help."

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Adrian's chin rested on his palm in boredom as Stiles slammed an Ouija board down on the school desk both him, Lydia, and Cora were sitting at. The three of them stared at the board for a second, neither of them impressed with its arrival as they looked up at the Stilinski boy.

"An Ouija board?" Lydia stated, pursing her lips

"Also called a spirit board. And it's worth a shot." Stiles defended, opening the lid of the box it was concealed in.

"A shot in the dark." Lydia quipped back in response.

"Yeah. You do know this is how people begin to die in horror films, right?" Adrian agreed with his sister, gesturing down to the board.

"People are already dying," Stiles countered with a sigh, looking at both siblings desperately. "Would you just try it, please, okay? Let's not forget who this is for. Scott's boss, the guy who saved our collective asses on more than one occasion."

"Never had to save mine," Adrian grumbled as his ex placed the planchette on the board, his sister correcting its position. Stiles gave him a brief scowl. "Just saying."

"Ok, so do we all do this?" Cora wondered, motioning to the board marked with the letters of the alphabet, the numbers 0-9, and "hello" and "goodbye" — which was the necromancer's least favourite feature, if you asked him.

"Yeah. Yeah." Stiles nodded, voice softer this time round as his brown eyes danced between the group. Everyone had their hands rested on the planchette now. Everyone . . . except for one. ". . . Adrian?"

Alarm bells set off in the boy's mind as he leaned back in his seat with vigorous shake of the head. "Nope. No way. Last time I tried connecting with spirits, it didn't end too well for me. I'll pass."

"Adrian, come on," Stiles silently encouraged. "We need to find answers and if anyone is going to get them out of us four, it's you and Lydia."

"That isn't a good enough reason, Stiles."

"Can you just —" Stiles cut himself short, a hand reaching out to rub his temple out of frustration. "Can you please just do this for us? Please?"

Adrian Martin hated the silence that hung around the room after that. All eyes were on him, something he would usually like if it wasn't out of judgment, but there was only one pair he chose to stare at.

He hated this position, mainly due to the fact that the look in Stiles' eyes were a reflection of the ones he had closed the door on. It was a sickening sense of deja vu, and a part of Adrian wondered if Stiles would always stare at him like that from now on; a glint that would always remember a day he would much rather forget.

When Adrian found that he could stare at the boy no longer, he wordlessly admitted to his defeat. His hand slowly inched towards the planchette until his fingers rested fully on its smooth surface, Stiles following suit. Their fingers brushed against one another's on the small piece of wood.

"Thank you," Stiles whispered quietly from beside him, shoulders brushing together as they all leaned over the board. Adrian didn't react to the comment, his stomach all up in knots. Nodding to himself, Stiles addressed the group. "You guys ready?"

Choruses of agreement were spoken in return — minus Adrian — as they all stared down at what was supposedly their only gateway for answers. "Where's Dr Deaton?"

They stood by, letting time pass. Lydia couldn't have looked more bored as her eyes wandered around the room, eventually noticing the intense stares of Stiles and Cora on either side of her and her brother. "What?"

"Aren't you gonna answer it?" Stiles probed, eyes flicking between the two Martins.

"Oh, I don't know the answer," Lydia stated, catching onto their plan. "I thought we were asking some sort of spirit."

"Well, do you know any spirits?" Cora pressed further. Adrian's face went pale, keeping his lips sealed as he shifted in his seat.

"Is she for real?" Lydia pointed to the girl in disbelief, causing Cora to roll her eyes.

"Yes, she's very much for real. Although I wish she wasn't." Stiles' eyes then locked onto Adrian, who was being uncharacteristically quiet as he felt the teen's eyes linger on him. "Adrian —"

"I know where you're going with this and the answer is no." Adrian's tone was sharp, swiftly taking his hand off the planchette as though it had just burned him. "Try something else."

"But —"

"Try something else." The Martin repeated more forcefully, unable to be swayed.

Stiles clearly had more to say, but he swallowed the words down for now. Instead, he fished a set of keys out from his pocket, letting them dangle from his finger. "Fine. These are Deaton's keys for the clinic. Lydia, close your eyes, and I'm gonna put them in your hand, and then we're just gonna try and see if you can feel out for his location."

Everyone in the room was clearly tired of entertaining the boy's wild theories, Adrian appearing to be the least impressed. "That's your next plan?"

"Well, you didn't like my other one much, did you?" Stiles snapped back in return. "It's called psychometry, and it's worth a shot. Unless you want to try the other option of —"

Adrian snatched the keys from his hand before he could finish, the cold metal jingling from the movement. "Lydia, close your eyes."

"But I'm not a psychic." Lydia reasoned, finding this whole exercise completely pointless.

"Well, like brother like sister, you're something." Adrian gave her a sarcastic smile, taking her hand and holding it face up. "Now, close your eyes and feel the damn keys."

With a sigh, the female Martin obeyed and closed her eyes. Placing the keys on her hand, everyone shot up when she jumped.

"What?" Stiles quizzed, his facial expression the exact same as the ones Adrian would observe on the nights he spent in the boy's room, watching him attend to his crime boards when he finally thought he was getting somewhere. It was a look Adrian never thought he'd admit to missing, probably because he never thought there would come a time where he could.

His train of yearning thoughts was interrupted by Lydia opening her eyes with a frown. "They're cold."

"Lydia, concentrate. Please. Trying to save lives here. For the love of god." Stiles' eye twitched, trying to keep his voice at a reasonable level. He turned his body towards Adrian for a second to cool down and, much to their surprise, the redheaded teen breathed out a short chortle through his nose before he could think to stop himself.

When their eyes locked beside one another, their staring became somewhat of its own art form; no words were spoken, but so much was said.

Adrian's eyes held both guilt and regret, and Stiles could not place why.

Stiles hated how he still found a sense of home within those green irises that bore into his hazel ones. He hated how that small exhale from Adrian ignited a sense of hope that lightened the chest which had been suffocating ever since its heart had been broken by the sound of a shutting door. He hated it; He hated how he could still feel something so deeply towards someone who had shut him out and wanted nothing to do with him so easily.

"Nothing."

"Huh?" Lost, the two boys turned to Lydia. They were too busy staring at one another to even realise that she had once again closed her eyes to ease her fingers over the metal keys.

"The keys. I felt nothing." Lydia shrugged, not understanding the balance that lay within the theory. Adrian didn't know much about it either.

"Okay." Stiles dragged on, heavily sighing as he rummaged through his pockets before producing a pencil. "We'll try this."

"Writing?"

"No, not just writing." Stiles shook his head, eyes widening to emphasise the small difference. "Automatic writing."

No one in the room bought his suggestion. "Automatic writing?" Stiles nodded strongly, determination swimming in his eyes as Lydia hesitantly plucked the pencil from his hand.

Everyone gathered round and held their breath as the girl slowly but surely started to sketch something out on the lined paper. Adrian was the first to guess what it was, groaning into his hands as Stiles asked her. "Lydia, what are you doing? What the hell is that?"

"What? You've never seen a tree before?" Adrian sarcastically remarked, gaining himself yet another scowl.

"Lydia, you're supposed to be writing words," Stiles directed the girl, ignoring her older brother. The last thing he wanted was to get distracted. "Like in sentences, something like a location, something that would tell us where he is."

"Well, maybe you should've said that."

"At least we know he's not in a cave or something." Adrian shrugged, causing everyone to look at him with blank expressions painted on their faces. The redhead furrowed his brows. "What? Caves don't have trees . . . right?"

"Aren't they supposed to be some kind of geniuses?" Cora chipped in, looking at Stiles like he was just wasting her time.

"Me? Genius, yes." Lydia nodded proudly before pointing a manicured nail towards her brother. "Him? Absolutely not." Adrian glares at her. "However, being a genius and being a psychic are two very different things."

"Clearly." Her brother grumbles sourly.

Lydia ignores him. "Honestly, I don't know why you're even bothering with me and Adrian anyway. Especially since it's obvious you should be talking to Danny."

A light struck within Stiles' eyes as he perked up, looking at Adrian before he could stop himself only to find the redhead doing the same. Clearing their throats, Stiles took charge in asking Lydia. "Wait, what? Why Danny?"

"Because last night, he was a target." A new voice entered the conversation, Scott McCall walking in with a hand on his shoulder. The spaces between his fingers were painted with blood, a clear indication of what he had been up to while they had been doing this. "But he wasn't a sacrifice."

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Despite the potential lead, the teenagers weren't able to chase it up until after class. They were still high schoolers after all, much to everyone's displeasure as they stormed out of class.

"But isn't Danny still in the hospital?" Cora asked Scott, who was fixated on his phone.

"Yeah. That's where we're going right now." Stiles answered her, walking side by side with Adrian. In all honesty, the two didn't even mean to be so close; call it a sad force of habit.

"I'll meet you there." The werewolf promised, catching his friends off guard. Wasn't he supposed to be coming with them?

"Why?"

Scott showed his best friend what was sent to his phone, Adrian leaning over to see a text from Allison reading: "I think I found something"

"Wait, so Allison's dad has something to do with this now?" Adrian's head continued to circle with endless question marks. He's pretty sure he'd have more luck in an exam at this point.

"Maybe, yes. Catch up, Adrian." Stiles snapped his fingers, the redhead's tongue prodding the inside flesh of his cheek to withhold whatever comment he had for the Stilinski boy. Now was not the time.

"You guys go check on Danny, and let me know what you find." Scott told the two boys specifically, dark eyes darting between them as he tucked his phone back in his pocket. He hesitated before adding. "Check on him together. Safety in numbers."

Scott made the smart decision to sprint away quickly after that, leaving his two good friends in the dust with his last command as they stood side by side in the now tightened air.

Adrian secretly hoped that staring at Scott's retreating figure would activate his supernatural abilities and kill the werewolf. He wasn't stupid; he knew exactly what the McCall boy was doing, and he wasn't a fan.

Stiles stared at him apprehensively, fidgeting with his fingers as he pondered on what to say. Of course, he wasn't blind to Scott's Cupid tendencies either . . . but would it be so wrong to admit that he didn't mind them? That a part of him, however hurt and delusional that part may be, wanted to be with a familiar face amongst all this confusion and chaos?

Nevertheless, Stiles knew that wasn't what Adrian wanted. The door closing on his face proved that. "I can check on Danny alone if you want." He offered meekly, hesitant to turn his head. He knew that seeing Adrian reject his company once again would cut like a knife. "I can't force you."

Adrian turned his head, green eyes meeting Stiles' for only a split second before he looked away once more. His jaw clenched, lip now seized between his teeth in what Stiles recognised to be his thinking face. Adrian Martin was often a grumpy-looking thinker.

All it took was for Stiles to blink and suddenly the Martin boy was no longer beside him, but instead striding down the school hallways without him. The Stilinski's heart dropped with a painful ache, every bit of hope pumping through his body evaporating like a burst balloon. He would've laughed at his own stupidity and sense of false hope if it didn't hurt so much in that moment.

"Well," a voice, tainted with familiarity, called for him down the hallway. It was like a magnet to the young Stilinski teen's brain as his head rose to find that Adrian was looking right at him. "You coming or what, Stilinski? I haven't got all day."

Stiles tried his best not to smile, but he knew his lips slipped up as he rushed frantically over to his side. However, his clumsy nature soon betrayed him as he tripped in his eagerness, already bracing himself for the embarrassing fall right in front of his ex just as a hand reached out to steady him.

The touch was light, gentle even, and fled as soon as it came, but it made Stiles' heart soar with a feeling he had wanted to rid himself of ever since he and Adrian broke up. The way the redhead did it so effortlessly, so naturally as if it were an instinct, reminded him of the little things in their relationship. The way Adrian would lend him half of his sandwich if he ever forgot his own; the way a cup of coffee would always mysteriously be waiting for him whenever he woke up from a nap; the way adrian would text him to remind him of the things he knew he would forget.

The way that Adrian payed attention to him in secret, a hidden love language of his own design. You'd have to be the world's greatest detective to decode the boy's affection, a mystery for the history books.

And, as fate would have it, Stiles Stilinski had a thing for playing detective.

Loving Adrian Martin was never easy, but it was at the same time. People never stick with something because it's easy, they stay because they like the unpredictability of it; the way nothing was ever certain, everything a new experience like a breath of fresh air.

Adrian was his own form of oxygen. It took awhile to get used to, to live with it comfortably, but once you finally did . . . it felt like you needed nothing else. How had you ever lived life before without it?

In its absence, you felt suffocated in a life that used to be yours, only to find it to be too bland, too plain, unconquerable without the air you've grown used to breathing in.

But, then again, it was Adrian who chose to leave; not Stiles, and he had to remember that.

So, as they fled the school together, Stiles accepted his company for what it was. There was still a lot needed to be said between them, and the Stilinski boy was far from forgiving the Martin for how he ended things between them . . . but this would be enough for now. It had to be enough.

Right now, they had bigger problems . . . unfortunately.

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Adrian shifted uncomfortably from behind Stiles as they stalked through Beacon Hills Hospital in search of Danny, tugging on his jacket as if he were cold. In reality, he was just trying to disguise the shivers that had crept up on him the minute had he stepped into the premises, warning the young necromancer to get the hell out of the hospital.

"You okay?" Stiles' question gained his attention as his dark-brown brows creased in concern, clearly noticing the teen's odd behaviour (despite his best efforts to conceal it) the second they stepped into the hectic workplace.

"I'm fine." Adrian immediately lied, his iron-grip on his jacket releasing. His body made a subtle protest, but Adrian disregarded it as he walked on. Mentally, he ordered his body to shut up. He used to be able to do this with no problem. Then again, he hadn't unleashed whatever the hell Deacon says he has now. "Lets just get what we came here for and leave."

It wasn't long until they finally located Danny's room, Stiles being first to slip in with Adrian right behind him. Once inside, the redhead closed the door carelessly, earning a sharp glare from the tiptoeing Stilinski.

"You want to open the door again and slam it harder? I don't think the whole hospital heard you!" The mole-faced boy hissed, cringing as Danny (thankfully) remained undisturbed in his hospital bed.

"I can do it with your face between it if you want." Adrian deadpanned, giving him a glare to communicate his disinterest in his sarcastic comments. Despite his original harshness, Adrian obeyed and didn't make another sound.

Stiles didn't take his eyes away from Danny, narrowing his eyes at his resting form. ". . . You don't think he's dead, do you?"

It took all of Adrian Martin's willpower not to release a sigh that would shake the walls of the whole room. "No, Stiles. I do not."

"— because you did close that door really loudly."

"He's not dead, Stiles!" The redhead was beginning to lose it as he tried to keep his voice down, though it proved to be quite a challenge with Stiles around.

Unsure, Stiles leaned forwards cautiously. "Danny, you awake?"

Adrian had to physically turn and face the wall as he shook his head. "Jesus Christ." When he looked back at the scene, Stiles was shaking Danny's shoulder. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm just making sure!"

"He's sleeping!"

"He could be faking it!" Stiles lightly taps Danny on the side of the face, gaining no response. He looks over at Adrian, the gears turning in his head.

Adrian slowly shook his head. "Don't you dare slap him."

Slapping him, Stiles instantly jumped back when Danny released a deep inhale. Tripping over his own two feet once more, he slipped and fell back.

Before he could crash and make a noise which would definitely awaken Danny, Adrian begrudgingly caught Stiles before he hit the floor. His hands caught his waist, pulling him up until his back collided with the front of his chest as Danny groaned sleepily before them. Thankfully, his eyes were still closed.

Stiles was glad that the Martin boy couldn't see his face in that moment as he blushed at the close contact, frozen in his spot. "Wow."

They stayed like that for a good while, worried that the slightest movement would have Danny sitting upright in his bed, fully awake and conscious as he wondered why two of his classmates stood before him. Stiles could hear the gentle thud of Adrian's heartbeat against his back, along with the gentle curl of his fingers as they grasped onto his plaid shirt. If not for their current situation, he would've almost mistaken the hold to be affectionate, maybe even sweet.

"Is . . . Is that my aftershave?" Adrian didn't have to have enhanced werewolf senses to smell the all too familiar scent radiating from the Stilinski boy, more specifically his shirt. "Did you steal it?!"

Stiles fumbled with his words as his mouth opened and closed in a speechless gape. "Well, uh, technically, I didn't steal it. You left it at my place and haven't asked for it back."

The news sadly didn't come as that much of a surprise to the young Martin as he shook his head. "Unbelievable. Don't tell me you have that black hoodie of mine that I've been looking all over the place for too?"

Stiles bit his lip. ". . . No?"

"You son of a —"

"Hey, look! Danny's bag!" Stiles finally leapt out of Adrian's hold — mainly because he was worried that the redhead was going to crush him like a coke can — as he bent down to look inside of Danny's schoolbag that laid by him on the floor.

Unfortunately, the sound of the zipper being hastily opened gained Danny's attention. "What are you doing?" He mumbled groggily, still half-asleep.

Adrian froze at his voice, Stiles peeking over the bed like a meerkat with a look of innocence. "We're not doing anything, Danny. This is just a dream that you're having."

With Stiles sinking back down to continue his rummaging, Danny spoke again. "Why are you going through my stuff?"

Stiles came back up again, eyebrows raised. "Right, but only in the dream, remember? Dream. You're dreaming."

Danny's eyebrows furrowed atop of his closed eyelids. Even half-asleep, he was still smart. "Why would I dream about you and Adrian going through my stuff?"

"I don't know that, Danny, okay? Maybe it's some weird fantasy of yours." Stiles was getting impatient now, words coming out more aggressively as Adrian naturally closed his eyes and pursed his lips to keep from yelling. "It's your dream. Take responsibility for it. Shut up and go back to sleep."

Stiles silently shuffled back over to Adrian, the redhead opening his eyes with an unimpressed expression. "Some weird fantasy? Really?" He quoted, helping Stiles rummage through the remains of the bag.

"Shut up." Stiles paused when his fingers came in contact with a decently long pile of papers, hurriedly lifting it out so both him and Adrian could have a better view.

It was a research proposal Danny had written for Mr Harris' physics class, a paper Adrian did not know had even been assigned. And while he was sure that he wouldn't understand any of the schoolwork's contents, Stiles' rigid body language told him that he certainly did.

"I'm guessing that's important." Adrian stated, referring to the "Telluric Currents" title on the front of the page. He made a mental note to take a picture of it later, so he could copy it for the class he was undoubtedly failing.

"Yeah." Stiles breathed out, and Adrian couldn't tell whether it was out of relief or fear. "Oh, Danny boy, you might've actually found something here."

With a swift escape from the hospital, Stiles was quick to call up Scott to give him an update on what they had found. Turns out, they weren't the only ones who had been busy.

Scott informed them about the marked locations on Chris Argent's map, showing the places in which bodies would be discovered. "Deaton's got to be at one of the six locations, but they're all over town. I don't know how we can get to all of them fast enough."

"Well, we might not have to." Stiles informed his friend over the phone, the werewolf on speaker phone due to the brisk pacing the young Stilinski was doing while Adrian stood still on his spot. "Danny was doing a project on something for Mr Harris' physics class, and I think it actually means something."

"What project?"

"Something on telling currents." Adrian answered, still having no idea what it meant.

"Telluric currents, actually, but nice try." Stiles corrected him, much to the redhead's displeasure. "Good to know that my physics notes have come in handy."

"If only I could give you my lacrosse notes as a thank you. Oh wait — you need to actually be decent at the sport for that."

Scott had been too absorbed in the previous information to care about the bickering between the two boys on the other end of the line, his serious voice ringing through. "Did you say currents?"

"Yeah. It's the one word Adrian got right." Stiles added on, earning him another death glare from the boy standing beside him.

"Meet me at the clinic."

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"Okay, so, what does this kid's homework have to do with finding Deaton?" Cora questioned amongst the group as everyone frantically searched through Danny's research report, most of them clueless as to what exactly they were looking for.

"Yeah, I don't think the secret code is likely to be hidden in the typings of a high school student." Adrian chimed in as he scrunched his nose up at the sight of the confusing words. He really should study more.

"It's not just homework." Stiles enlightened them. "It's a project on geomagnetic fields. They flow through the earth. They can even be affected by lunar phases, all right? Now, look at this. This is a note from Harris on Danny's proposal." With the paper laid flat on the examination table, Stiles steered them to a comment written in red ink.

"I strongly advise you choose another subject. The ideas here, while innovative and thoughtful, border on pseudo-science. Not suitable for class." Adrian read aloud, humming to himself shortly after. "Shame. I was hoping to copy this paper for the class."

"Harris wasn't just a sacrifice." Scott said in comprehension, looking to the others. "He knew something."

"When did Harris not know anything." Adrian commented, his clear hatred for the teacher on full display as Stiles reached out to point them in a new direction.

"Now, check this out. Alison's dad wasn't the only one with a map, all right? Danny had one, too." Pushing the proposal out of the way, Stiles unfolded a large map that had red, orange, green, and blue squiggles drawn all over it. "Danny marked all the telluric currents, okay? Now, the weird thing about Beacon Hills is that it actually is a beacon."

"How fitting." Adrian sighed, not happy with the fact that this whole town seemed to have some supernatural curse laid upon it. No matter how hard he tried to get on with his life, Beacon Hills refused to let him rest. "I'm beginning to think that this whole town is one big, matching puzzle."

It was like a lightbulb had flicked on inside of Scott McCall's head as his eyes widened. "Wait a second. A match. Adrian, that's it!" The redhead looked up, confused as to what he just contributed to the investigation. "There's three places. Where they're kidnapped, and then the place where their body was found."

The werewolf circled around two spots on the map in black pen, everyone leaning in to understand what he was getting at. Lydia picked up on it first. "Look, that's right on the telluric current."

"So, maybe where he was sacrificed is somewhere in between," Scott thought aloud, scanning the map.

Stiles' eyes lit up. "Let me see that." He took the pen from Scott, marking an X on the first circle his friend drew up around the animal clinic. "You said there's six more bodies to be found. Deaton's one of them. Got to be somewhere in between, right?"

"Stop." Cora's hand was suddenly jutting out and laying atop of Stiles'. The room fell silent. Stiles looked up at the Hale girl in surprise, while Lydia and Scott stole a discreet look at Adrian.

The redhead's gaze was fixated on the joint hands, now leaning against the table with a grip that made his knuckles turn white without even realising. When the girl's hand still didn't move, Adrian found himself becoming more and more frustrated over the action.

She doesn't need to have her hand there for so long. He thought, his mind running rampant despite his best efforts.

Adrian discarded the gnawing feeling in his stomach as hunger rather then jealousy, blaming his mind on sleep deprivation. He had thrown away the rights to be jealous when he first broke up with Stiles. He chucked those feeling out in hopes that they would never return, lost in the whirlwind that was his own emotions.

They mocked him, infecting his body until it turned green-eyed and monstrous. It taunted him of its guilty and regretful connotations, of its desire to replace Cora's hand.

Adrian got a splitting headache the more he thought about it, so he chose to look away from the pair as he clenched his jaw. Unbeknownst to him, Scott and Lydia exchanged a knowing, and somewhat happy, glance. The redhead wasn't being as discreet as he wished to be.

Cora didn't let go of Stiles' hand right away. Instead, she steadily brought it along the map of the town until it came down on the destination of 'Beacon Hills First National'. Everyone looked down at the placement with a frown. "He's in the vault. He's in the same vault."

It only took one inaudible exchange between everyone for things to kick into action, the numerous papers now being snatched off of the examination table as Scott led them to the door.

"Guys, hold on." Lydia called out, still tucking the papers away.

"Lydia, we don't have time."

"It's Boyd." Cora notified them, having received a text on her phone from Derek's beta. "The plan didn't work. They cut the power."

The burden of the scene weighed heavy on their shoulders, their faces casting a dispiritedness. Every time they seemed to get a step closer to solving something, they were pushed right back.

With no other ideas brewing, everyone looked to Scott. "It's just like he said." The unspoken leader whispered to himself, his friends noticing his rapid change in attitude as his head snapped back up. They may still have a shot of winning this thing. "Go. I can save Deaton myself."

"What?" Both Adrian and Stiles exclaimed, clearly hesitant to put the boy in danger with no backup. The latter continued. "Scott, what about us?"

"Cora can't get there fast enough without you."

"Since when did we become a taxi service?" Adrian wondered, clearly disliking the fact that the supernatural world had enveloped him in its madness so easily.

"Go. We can save both of them." Scott pushed, mostly to the redheaded boy; he needed to believe that there was still hope.

And, while Adrian still remained unconvinced, Stiles trusted his friend completely. "All right, lets go."

Running outside, they were met with the sound of Scott's motorbike revving to life in urgency. It was go, go, go from here on out. Time was against them.

Stiles, Cora, Lydia, and Adrian raced to Stiles' jeep as Scott took off, Adrian's mind going into autopilot as he opened up the passenger door to hop in. Immediately, Stiles' head whirled round to face him, surprise swimming in his pupils.

Adrian froze, body half in and half out of the vehicle as he swallowed down whatever nervous bile had risen up in his throat. Hearing the familiar sound of heels on gravel behind him, he called over his shoulder. "Um, you wanna take the front Lydia?"

Looking over her brother's shoulder, Lydia tried to suppress her laugh at the two boys and the way they were staring at one another like scared little puppies. With a short, encouraging pat on the shoulder, Lydia made her way to the back of the jeep. "No thanks. It's all yours."

"Will you two stop staring at one another and help me get to my brother?" Cora yelled from the back, clearly done with whatever she was sensing between the two males.

Adrian let out an angered huff as he did so, but threw himself into the passenger seat. It was warm and all too familiar, his eyes boring into the glove compartment that he knew still held some of his CD's that he had forced into the jeep so he wouldn't go insane with Stiles' music taste.

Stiles stepped on the gas, the vehicle lurching to life as they sped down the road. The ride was eerily silent, no one saying a word. Adrian's hand gripped onto the door handle beside him, breathing in and out through his nose to steady himself.

Though his worries were (mostly) based around Derek and Deaton, Adrian couldn't help but worry about himself. The whole reason he had stepped out of this mess was because of his abilities, and now he's throwing himself right back into everything without warning, into a scene which could be highly dangerous?

Adrian sighed to himself and looked out the window, the dark night showing him Stiles' reflection as he drove. The teen was chewing on his lip anxiously, fingers flexing against the steering wheel as his hazel eyes scanned all across the open roads.

Adrian's attention was stolen away from the trees in an instant, his throat swallowing down the memory of the harsh words he had thrown back at the Stilinski boy, who had just poured his heart out to him. It bothered the redhead considerably, cursing his mind for bringing it back up again. He was trying to put all of this behind him, to go back to a time where his world didn't revolve around myths and legends. He wanted to be stupidly ignorant to everything Beacon Hills was hiding again; he wanted to be stupidly ignorant to everything about himself again.

Yet here he was, tagging along despite it all. Adrian wanted to tear his hair out at his own hypocrisy, but he feared it was the only thing keeping him sane in this moment. At least he could still control his hair!

Stiles glanced over to the side of his passenger seat, accidentally meeting eyes with Adrian through the reflection in his car window. The two boys froze at the out of the blue connection, Stiles' grip on the wheel tightening as he fought to keep it straight. Thank god they were the only people on the road.

What was only a five second glance felt like a whole hour between the two. It was more powerful than either of them were ready to give it credit for. In those few seconds, their hearts had stopped, their chests had ached, their stomachs had dropped, their hands grew sweaty, and their cheeks felt hot. For the first time that night, they were glad Derek was in trouble, meaning Cora was too distracted to pick up on the quick shift in their bodies.

They both didn't dwell on it for long — mainly because neither of them wanted to, and they didn't have the time to — as Stiles ultimately pulls up at Derek's loft. Cora was first to get out, leaping from her seat before Stiles could even put the car in park.

"Cora! Wait!" Stiles worryingly called, frantically tugging on his seatbelt to stop her. In his panic, he completely disregarded the red buckle tucked by his side.

Adrian, however, didn't. Rolling his eyes after a brief debate with himself, he leaned over Stiles' struggling frame and quickly pushed on the buckle as the latch plate came free. The redhead didn't even want to see how the brunette reacted to his rather bold action as he got out of the car with Lydia. "Might want to resit your driving test, Stilinski."

The three of them, Stiles, Adrian, and Lydia, tailed behind Cora. The werewolf gave the impression that she knew what she was doing, so neither of them questioned it when they wound up in the electrical room.

"Okay, what do we do?"

"We pull them. We pull all of them." Cora breathed out, frantically beginning to flip all the switches on the wall.

Adrian and Lydia mirrored the action, Stiles rushing out his phone to text Isaac to let them know that they were here and to inform him of their plan. It was this, or nothing.

Stiles' thumb hit send just as Adrian flipped the last switch. The lights above them came to life with an electrical hum. Even from a distance, they could hear the crackling of electricity throughout the large home, heeded by splashing water and animalistic cries of pain. The four teens let out a breath, glad that they had gotten there on time.

At least . . . they thought they had.

Adrian froze when he felt it; two sharp shots of pain piercing through the front of his chest. It knocked all of the air out of him at once, a chocked noise escaping the back of his throat. He staggered back from the switches as his legs grew weak, his breathing all out of sorts as his body bowed to the pain that the redhead knew wasn't his.

Oh no. Adrian knew it was going to happen to him again in the fullness of time, just not so soon. He wasn't ready for this pain, not amongst everything else.

But I guess that's what you deserve when you go back on your word so quickly.

"Adrian?" Stiles was first to notice the split-second change in the boy, rushing to his aid just as Adrian sank to the floor in choked gasps. Cora and Lydia watched on from the sidelines with wide eyes as the Stilinski boy frantically scanned over his body, at a loss on what to do. "Adrian! Hey, what's happening? Come on, Adrian. Look at me. Tell me what's going on?"

Adrian didn't have to answer. His body did it for him, speaking for those who could not. Multiple patches of blood seeped through the fabric of the necromancer's shirt, a wound too severe to be caused by flipping switches. In a hurry, Stiles lifted the shirt up further. He apologised to Adrian when the boy hissed from the intense shock of pain it brought, Lydia and Cora coming to inspect the wound.

"It looks like claw marks." Cora highlighted the injuries, a dark shadow casting over her features as she slowly stepped back. A horrific expression crossed her face, rushing out of the door all at once in a panicked cry. "Derek!"

"Cora —" Stiles began, but it was too late. She was already long gone. The young teen grit his teeth in frustration. Why is nobody listening to him nowadays? "Dammit."

"Go with her." Adrian managed to get out through strangled breaths, his hands resting over the wound that wasn't his as he closed his eyes. He was beginning to feel tired.

"What? No. Hey," Stiles lightly shakes the boy's shoulder when he noticed that he was starting to space out. "I'm not leaving you alone like this, okay?"

"He won't be alone." Lydia suddenly spoke up, crouching down beside her brother. Her eyes were still wide with shock, and she clearly was uncomfortable with having to stare at her younger sibling in such a bloody state, but she held firm. "He's got me. It's best we both stay behind anyway. Getting too close could make things worse with our abilities."

As always, the girl was making sense, but Stiles still didn't like her logic. When his attention returned back to Adrian, he was startled to see that he was already looking at him through half-lidded eyes. He struggled to keep them open, eyelashes tickling his cheeks as he nodded in reassurance. "Go. I'll heal."

Derek's loft was eerily silent; the fighting and howling seemed to have ceased. In their current position, Stiles, Lydia, and Adrian had no idea what that meant. All they knew was that, judging from Adrian's bleeding chest, someone was dying . . . and they had no idea who it was.

Which is why Stiles knew that he had to go, to leave Lydia with Adrian. It wasn't safe for the Martin siblings, and they had to know who it was; a friend or a foe; did they win, or did they lose?

None of these questions would be answered unless someone went to check.

Stiles breathed in and out slowly, Adrian already knowing he had made his decision. For support, he gave him another stiff nod. The pain in his chest was getting worse, and the redhead didn't want anyone to see him like this . . . especially Stiles. "Go."

Stiles' body ached with hesitance, every shuffle and movement receiving objection from his brain. As he stood above Adrian, his hands clenched by his sides. He couldn't help but feel guilty.

Since their breakup, Stiles had cursed Adrian with every wretched name under the sun. He would spend his nights screaming into his pillow about the boy's selfishness, and how much he hated him for it.

However, as he watched his ex bleed out on the floor of Derek's loft . . . he didn't hate him for it so much now.

Adrian had said to him that night that he didn't want anything to do with the supernatural, and how their involvement would only end with them being killed. He also told Stiles to stop, to terminate this endless chase. In the moment, Stiles couldn't understand how he could be so hard-hearted but now he did.

Because Stiles realised that he walked the roads of this supernatural road in human shoes, and he would never be able to experience the pain Adrian had to endure with every step.

While Stiles' participation in the supernatural was dangerous and frustrating at times, Adrian's was pure torture. Stiles had had his fair share of injuries, but nothing that would ever be able to compare with Adrian having to experience  the most excruciating, severe, and inhumane deaths of another being.

That's why Adrian had warned him not to get involved, because he knew what death in the hands of the supernatural felt like; he had tasted the end to this battle. Day after day, it affected him to some capacity. As long as he was associated with Stiles and Scott, Adrian Martin would never be free.

And, for the first time ever, Stiles didn't consider him to be selfish for wanting out.

"I'm coming back for you." He softly promised to the necromancer, whose breaths were beginning to fade into wheezes as his eyelids twitched. "I'll be right back, okay? Just — Just stay awake for me until then."

With Adrian being so weak, both of them knew that there wouldn't be a reply, so Stiles left the room soon after that. It tugged on every heartstring and human instinct he had, begging him to go back and help him, but he knew he couldn't go back. He couldn't help Adrian; no one could. All they could do was wait it out.

After all, death doesn't pity anyone.

Adrian could feel his body finishing its last lap, his limbs weighing him down as he slumps to the floor. Lydia tries dragging him back up, but he was too heavy for her in this limp state. All his sister could do was hold him and beg.

"Adrian, hey, look at me. Keep your eyes open. You heard what Stiles said. Stay awake! Don't you dare fall asleep on me!" Her voice was weak and muffled, but to no fault of her own.

Adrian was too exhausted to try and discern the words or respond back. He had used the last of his energy to assure Stiles that he would be alright anyway — which would eventually be true. He would be alright, but right now, Adrian had to suffer in all the ways that his necromancy demanded him to.

His eyesight soon grew hazy, black spots splattering across his view of a now blurry Lydia. All of his fingers were numb now, falling to the side as the blood continued to ooze from whomever's wounds. Lydia hurriedly took his place, ignoring the fact that his blood was now ruining her brand new manicure.

She was speaking to him again, but Adrian wasn't even looking at her to tell. His head, now slumped against his shoulder, was focused on the empty doorway of the electrical room now. He was tired. So, so, tired. Everything felt so numb . . . He needed to sleep.

Amid Adrian's journey between consciousness, two figures entered his deteriorating eyesight. One was way taller than the other, darker in complexion too. Adrian could only just make out the silhouettes of a messy mop of blond hair, and a smooth buzz cut along each of the figure's heads. The blond was leading the way, guiding its companion by the hand.

They slowly walked across the hallway, passing the electricity room. Lydia didn't give any indication that she could see them, all of her focus on Adrian as she snapped her fingers in front of his face to grab his attention.

With each snap, it was like the figures grew more distinct. And, when the bloodied fingers of his sister were finally pulled away from his face, Adrian managed to identify the two figures passing in the doorway.

It was Toby . . . only he wasn't alone. Boyd was right next to him, confused as he allowed the blond to escort him away to who knows where. They didn't look at him, Toby shielding Adrian from Boyd's sight the second he noticed that his necromancer abilities had picked up on their newest loss.

The next thing Adrian saw after their departure was complete and utter darkness as his mind shut down and his body went slack in Lydia's arms, a pleasureless rest after the return of his deadliest abilities.

: : ❛ 𝓐𝙐𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙍 𝓝𝙊𝙏𝙀 ❜ : :
╰───╮; hey guys! long time no see!
i missed you all!!

sorry, for the lack of updates. finding inspiration and the time to write is hard nowadays, but i haven't forgotten any of my fics. i still write, though it's only in small sections, so progress is slow.

due to me not writing this fic for literally ages, my writing layout has changed quite a bit. so, please ignore the few odd changes that may appear here and there. i just hate how i laid some of my stories out and it really gets on my nerves. i also apologise is the writing is a bit poor in this chapter too, as i'm still trying to get in the hang of writing for adrian again.

i don't know when the next update is coming. i can only assure you that adrian hasn't been forgotten about and i still love him and all his flaws just as much as i did when i first started writing this fic. i love my difficult, mentally unstable, baby boy!

thanks for reading!
love you all!

∴ ✷ ❱ · TRGDYCOILS !! ━━━━
( 12k words )