┌─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───┐
chapter forty!
DYING IS EASY
└─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───┘

( insatiable, pt. ii )

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

VERA HAS NO IDEA what to do when Agent Rafael McCall walks into the house. She, Dominic, Stiles, and Isaac (who had appeared on the doorstep looking like a lost puppy roughly half an hour ago) are all lounging in the living room as he enters through the front door and does a double take upon seeing four teenagers — none of whom live here — acting like they do.

As a typical adult, the first thing he asks them is, "Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

"We're... uh..." Dominic offers, sounding very convincing.

"We're sick," Vera supplies. "All of us. Nasty infection going around. You might wanna stay away from us." She even coughs for good measure, making sure it sounds deep and throaty.

Mr. McCall glances around. "And you're gathered in my house... why?"

"Technically, it's Melissa's house," Stiles counters, scratching his chin absentmindedly. "Stopped being yours back in '03."

"Right. And you're gathered in her house... why?"

That's a very valid question. Vera cannot think of an explanation as to why they're hanging out in a house that none of them belong in — well, unless you count Isaac taking over the spare bedroom — if they're all suffering from a mysterious illness.

"Scott's mom told us to stay," Dom answers. "She checked us out before she left for work."

Oh, yes. The "Mrs. McCall is a nurse" excuse has come in handy once again.

Mr. McCall clearly doesn't believe them, but also appears too tired to argue. He no longer has to investigate mysterious deaths occurring around the town, and, as such, can't use his FBI status to interrogate them. Vera isn't sure why he's still in Beacon Hills to begin with. It's not like his bond with his son is strong (or even existent at all), or that he's on good terms with his ex-wife. What does he have going for him, here?

As if being summoned by Vera's thoughts, Scott bursts through the entrance with a girl in tow. She's substantially small — not so much in stature, but more so in physique, with her ratty, oversized gray crewneck and old sweatpants swallowing her petite frame. She's so pale that it seems like she's rarely seen the rays of the sun and her timid face is framed by frizzy red curls.

It has to be Meredith Walker, their only ticket to finding Lydia.

Scott's eyes widen once they land on his father. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Mr. McCall says, sliding his hands into the pockets of his black slacks.

"Must be free period," Stiles pipes up. "We were planning on doing a group study session so we didn't fall behind due to the, uh, infection."

Scott, fortunately, catches on that the so-called "infection" is a cover story and doesn't ask or give them a weird look.

Mr. McCall jerks his head toward Meredith. "Who's she?"

"She's my girlfriend!" Stiles exclaims, standing up and walking towards the wide-eyed girl, sliding his arm around her shoulders. "Good to see you, honey."

Meredith shoots him an uncomfortable expression. "You're not my type."

Stiles blinks at her brutal honesty. "Well, obviously we have a lot to talk about. Maybe we should take this upstairs?"

"He's my type," Meredith says, staring at Isaac appreciatively.

Isaac opens and closes his mouth like a useless fish.

Vera, feeling a surge of possessiveness that rises like a red-hot tidal wave, surprising her, places a hand on Isaac's knee. She flashes Meredith a falsely sweet smile that's more of a warning display of her teeth. "He's taken, sweetheart."

Mr. McCall raises his brows at this rapidly unraveling lie. He doesn't ask any more questions that can make it worse, though, and they need to make an exit before he comes up with any more inquiries.

Stiles pauses before rubbing nervously at his top lip, his palm falling to his side with a light slap. "Okay, everyone can come, since this is clearly a group thing."

The pack stands and begins to walk up the steps to Scott's room. The Alpha himself stays behind to talk to his dad, leaving Stiles, Vera, Isaac, and Dominic to attempt to gain answers from Meredith.

They motion for the girl to sit on Scott's bed, which she does somewhat timidly. Vera notices Meredith's hands fidgeting in her lap and glances around the room to find something she can tinker with. She locates an unsolved Rubik's cube on a shelf near Scott's desk and grabs it, handing it to Meredith.

"Here," she says, "you can twist that around. It'll help you focus."

The girl gives her a grateful look and nods, rotating the multicolored blocks to dissolve her nervous energy.

Stiles grabs Vera by both shoulders and moves her out of his way. He takes a step toward Meredith and explains, "Look, Meredith, we brought you here because we really need your help, okay?"

Meredith glances around unsurely. "O... Okay..."

"Right. So, one of our friends is missing. Her name is Lydia. We need you to help us find her."

The Banshee absentmindedly fidgets with the cube, her wide-set eyes flickering around the room as she thinks. Stiles bumps his fists together due to his own anxious energy. Clearly, he's fighting not to push her and scare her away, but it's difficult for him to hold his tongue.

Dominic catches Vera's eye from across the two taller boys between them. He motions between Meredith and Stiles and gives a thumbs-up, like he, too, is noticing that Stiles is trying to be more patient.

"Lydia," Meredith finally says, like it had just clicked in her mind. "You mean the red-haired girl."

Some of the tension in Stiles's body goes slack as he slightly raises his hands in victory. "Yes! Yes! Good! Progress! Now, all you got to do is tell us where she is."

"Okay." She glances between the group's expectant expressions and shrugs. "If she tells me."

"If she tells you?" Isaac repeats. "Can you ask her?"

Meredith smiles at them like they're the ones who aren't understanding. "I already did."

"Perfect," Stiles replies. "Perfect! What did she say?"

The girl's smile slowly fades. "She said... she doesn't want to be found."

Vera blinks. She glances up at Isaac, who's mirroring her surprised expression. Lydia doesn't want to be found? Either there's been a miscommunication, or there's a reason she would say that. It's not like being kidnapped by an evil spirit is at the top of everyone's bucket list.

Still trying to remain positive for Meredith, Stiles nods and bumps his fists together again. "That's good, too. Okay... Uh, well, we're going to have a meeting in the bathroom, so you can just stay there, Meredith. Okay?"

She nods and continues tinkering with the Rubik's cube. Stiles's calm and pleasant façade breaks as he ushers everyone into the attached bathroom, causing them to have to squeeze together so they can all fit. Isaac leans against the porcelain sink in an attempt to shrink his height. Dominic closes the toilet seat and sits on the back with his feet on the lid. Vera is already small enough that she doesn't need to compact herself, so Stiles is able to half-close the door without hitting anyone.

"Okay, anyone have any ideas?" Stiles questions. "Because my patience is thinning to here." He holds up his thumb and forefinger, barely separating them.

Vera shrugs. "You're the one who met her in Eichen. Shouldn't you know how she can help us?"

"Does she have a telepathic bond with Lydia?" Dom asks. "Did I miss something? Or is everyone just as confused about that?"

"No, that's definitely weird," Stiles agrees. "Look, I don't know why, but I just have this feeling that she can help us. But we don't have time to" — he leans backward and peeks through the crack in the doorway to make sure Meredith isn't listening — "dilly-dally while she plays with toys."

"I didn't see any of you trying to help her calm down," Vera mutters defensively with a cross of her arms.

"I have an idea," Isaac announces. "How about we..." He takes both hands and mimes throttling an invisible person by the shoulders. "I'm just saying..."

"Isaac, we're not going to torture her—" Stiles says.

"I meant scare her—"

"We're not going to psychologically torture her, either!"

Isaac glances at Vera as if he's expecting her to aid him in this argument. But she shakes her head, exasperated (but not really surprised) that Isaac had immediately thought of violence. "Torture of any kind is a no-go. She will not talk if we do that."

"Fine," Isaac huffs in disappointment. "Okay, how about this— you said she hears things, right?"

"Yeah," Stiles confirms.

"Doesn't that mean she's like Lydia? A Banshee?"

A few beats of silence pass as the possibility sinks in. It does make sense, and could explain why Meredith claimed to have spoken to Lydia. Maybe Banshees have a connection like that.

Dominic buries his face in his hands. "Oh my God, I can't believe Isaac is the smartest person in the room right now."

They resume their previous positions in a crescent shape before Meredith, who still slouches on Scott's bed with the Rubik's cube. Vera notices with a start that she'd already solved it and is now dismantling her progress and starting over.

"Hey, you finished it," Vera says with a motion to the cube, an encouraging smile on her face. Meredith nods, almost like she's saying, Obviously. "Good job."

"Yes, very nice," Stiles says dismissively, crouching down so he's not looming over the girl anymore. Isaac copies his lead and puts his hands on his knees like they're in a lacrosse huddle. Dominic and Vera, already fairly short, don't need to shrink in height. "Okay, just try to focus on the sounds around you..."

"On what you're hearing..." Isaac adds.

"Just focus on the silence..."

"Listen to the silence..."

Vera drags her hand down her face.

"Focusing on the silence..."

"Listening to the—"

Finally, Stiles snaps and interjects, "Okay, will you just let me handle this, Isaac? Please? I just — I have more experience with Banshees."

Isaac mutters, "Yeah, and mental patients..."

Dominic slaps his hand over his mouth to stifle a snort. When Stiles jerks his head back to glare at him, he quickly disguises it as a cough and then casually slides his hands into his pockets.

It will be a miracle if they accomplish anything by nightfall.

"Isn't anyone going to get that?" Meredith asks, bringing the attention back to her instead of the boys' stupidity.

Vera listens for a second. There's nothing.

"Get what?" Stiles asks.

"The phone."

"What phone?"

Isaac reaches over and slaps his arm, whispering pointedly, "The phone!"

Meredith motions to Stiles's jacket. Dominic reaches over and slides Stiles's phone out of the boy's pocket, handing it to him so he can stop buffering.

It finally clicks. Stiles's eyebrows shoot up his forehead as he says, "Oh, the phone! My phone, yes." He holds it up to his ear and pretends to answer the call they can't hear. "Hello? Yes, she's actually sitting right here." He holds it out to Meredith. "It's for you."

She takes the phone and holds it to her ear, listening for a moment. Vera leans forward in anticipation as a few seconds tick by.

Then, Meredith hands it back to Stiles. "They say 'coup de foudre.'"

Well. That was not what they expected.

Stiles shakes his head in confusion. "Coo — coo... what?" He turns around to look at Vera. "Is that Spanish?"

Vera stares at him in astonishment that he could ever say something so stupid.

Luckily, Scott saves her from having to point out Stiles's idiocy by appearing in the doorway and answering, "French. It's French."

— ✯✯✯ —

The Nogitsune had taken Lydia to Camp Oak Creek, an old Japanese internment camp from World War II. Apparently, when Kira's mother had told Scott and Kira about her history with the dark spirit, she'd recalled teaching the man he was before French, including "coupe de foudre." It's an idiom that translates to "bolt of lightning." So they're going back to the place where the whole thing started, metaphorically and physically going full circle with the history of the Nogitsune.

All of this is beginning to give Vera a headache. She just wants to be done with this stupid spirit.

They all cram inside Stiles's Jeep, with Vera squished between Isaac and Dom in the back seat. The heat vents are broken which leaves her shivering even though she has her leather jacket. But Dom is perpetually warm, so she leans into him to seek comfort.

Now that it's dark and more time has passed, Stiles looks even worse. His lips are pale to the point where they look bloodless. The shadows beneath his eyes are exaggerated by the darkness of the Jeep, making him look like a walking — er, driving — corpse. But none of them point this out for fear that it'll make everyone more stressed. It's almost like, if they ignore it, it'll go away on its own.

Stiles glances at Scott, whose brows are furrowed, a signal he's deep in thought. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah," Scott replies, blinking out of his daze. "Yeah, you don't have to worry about me."

"All right, I'm gonna say it— you look like you're dying," Isaac deadpans to Stiles. Scott, Vera, and Dom all shoot accusatory glares at him, but he continues on. "You're pale, you're thin, and you look like you're getting worse. And we're all sitting here thinking it. When we find the other you, is he gonna look like he's getting better?"

"What happens if he gets hurt?" Scott corrects the question. It's also an admission that he has been thinking about how awful his best friend looks.

"What do you mean, like if he dies, then do I die?" Stiles questions tiredly. He makes a face. "I don't care, just so long as no one else dies because of me."

Vera looks down into her lap and toys with one of the rings on her fingers anxiously. She isn't a fan of this conversation.

"I remember everything I did, Scott," Stiles continues. "I remember pushing that sword into you. I remember twisting it. I remember slamming Vera's head onto the ground and stabbing Dominic."

"It wasn't you," Scott assures him.

"Yeah, but I remember it." He shakes his head, his hands tapping on the steering wheel. "You guys gotta promise me— you can't let anyone else get hurt because of me."

Feeling like it's the only thing she can do to help the dreadful mood that's slowly starting to suffocate them in the Jeep, Vera mumbles, "Promise."

As they approach the iron gates of the camp, Vera feels a cold chill creeping up her spine like a bony hand. She shudders, trying to shake it off, but the sensation follows her even as she climbs out of the car with the others.

They find Allison and Kira already waiting at the entrance. The gates are anything but welcoming, and their rusted, pointed design only adds to the foreboding atmosphere. There couldn't be a worse setting for this rescue mission than an abandoned internment camp after dark.

Allison opens her arm for a side hug as soon as Vera approaches. She immediately leans into her friend's embrace, grateful for the warmth of her wool coat and feeling comforted by the number of weapons on her. Allison doesn't mess around when it comes to saving her friends. It shows in the glint of her eyes and the determined set of her jaw.

Vera also waves at Kira, who repeats the action halfheartedly, nervously shifting her weight on the balls of her feet. Everyone is on edge. Vera wishes that she could reassure Kira of that fact — tell her she's not alone — but before she can speak, Scott does.

"We've done this before, guys. A couple of weeks ago, we were standing around, just like this, and we saved Malia. Remember?"

A couple of weeks ago? That had felt like another lifetime.

"That was a total stranger— this is Lydia," he reminds them.

"I'm here to save my best friend," Allison says.

Scott nods, his face full of resolve. "I came to save mine."

"I just didn't feel like doing any homework." Isaac shrugs.

Vera swats him on the arm, shooting him an expression that says, Really?

"I am here because Vera is," he corrects.

Vera sighs. "Not what I meant, but I'll take it."

They walk through the entrance, finding themselves surrounded by dilapidated buildings that haven't been used since this camp was active. The occasional spray of graffiti peppers some walls, but other than that, there's no sign of anything modern, almost like this place has been trapped in time. A half-broken military truck lies under a ripped tarp. Everywhere she turns, it feels like she's being watched.

How many people had died here? Why doesn't she know more about the history of this camp that's so close to her town?

But as she looks around, she realizes why. It was probably erased from history, covered up to prevent prying eyes from seeing the horrors that had occurred at the hands of the US government. And now history is doomed to repeat itself.

Scott and Stiles break off to search for Lydia, leaving Kira, Allison, Isaac, Dominic, and Vera to scout the area for threats. They know that Kira's mother will probably send the Oni to kill the Nogitsune. Therefore, he's using Lydia as a shield.

Vera's hand seeks purchase somewhere. She finds it in Allison's, gripping tightly onto her hand, which is half-covered by a fingerless leather glove. The taller girl gives a squeeze before tensing and releasing Vera's hand to grab her bow.

Vera realizes why a moment later. Noshiko Yukimura is standing a few yards ahead with the Oni flanking her. Their forms are fully visible instead of being swathed in shadows, their feet shoulder width apart so they're poised to fight at a moment's notice.

"Kira, turn around and go home," the woman warns, her voice firm. "Take your friends with you."

Allison arms herself with an arrow. Vera's muscles coil tightly, wondering if she's going to have to fight her new friend's mom.

"I can't," Kira replies. She looks more confident than Vera's seen her yet, her jitters gone with the wind. "When I looked at the game, I realized who I was actually playing. You."

Allison draws the bowstring back. "Call them off."

"You think you could take him alive?" Noshiko asks almost mockingly. "You think you can save him?"

Kira tilts her head. "What if we can?"

"I tried something like that seventy years ago. Your friend is gone."

That hits Vera like a sucker punch to the gut, causing her to suck in a breath.

Dominic leans closer to Kira and whispers, "Dude, how old is your mom?"

Kira ignores the question, stepping closer to her mother. "Are you sure? Or if Stiles doesn't have to die, maybe Rhys didn't have to die, either?"

At that comment, the Oni draw their longswords, raising them as if to await a command to charge. Vera figures that the "Rhys" person must be who the Nogitsune had originally possessed. And he hadn't survived the possession.

A smile plays on Noshiko's mouth. "I see I'm no longer the fox now, Kira. You are. But the Nogitsune is still my demon to bury."

Instead of attacking, the Oni disappear in clouds of black smoke. Vera's breath hitches at the realization that something is about to either go very, very right... or very, very wrong.

And judging by the gasp that Noshiko releases, almost like she's been hit by an invisible force, Vera guesses it's the latter.

The woman opens her palm. A firefly lies in the middle of it, looking almost... dead. And then it also disappears with a puff of smoke.

Kira's spine has gone straight as a rod. Her voice slightly wavers with fear when she asks, "Mom?"

"What is that?" Isaac demands. "What does that mean?"

"It means there's been a change in ownership."

Stiles's voice startles Vera, causing her to jump and turn around to face its source. But instead of her friend standing at the top of the stone steps they'd recently descended, it's the Hyde to his Jekyll.

The Nogitsune, still wearing Stiles's face and his old clothes, has the Oni backing him up, three on either side. It doesn't look like they have any loyalty to their former leader. Now that their allegiance has changed, they won't hesitate to kill anyone in their way.

The spirit smirks. "Now, they belong to me."

Everything happens so fast that Vera hardly gets a chance to brace herself before the Oni explode into action. It's absolute chaos within seconds. Kira is fending off two warriors with her katana, matching them strike for strike the sounds of steel on steel filling the air. Dom jumps in to help her with flaming fists and talons that light up the darkness.

Vera does not have a weapon of her own, nor do her abilities help her in fighting these particular opponents. She mainly works defensively, using small bursts of flight and intangibility to avoid slashes of the Oni figure's sword. She might have to ask Allison to teach her about some weaponry after this— it would never hurt to be more prepared for a fight.

A second Oni charges at her. Isaac pounces, releasing an animalistic roar from his fang-framed mouth as he tackles it to the ground. His claws slash down its silver mask, but it does nothing to deter the spirit. It merely kicks him off and launches back into battle.

Arrows fly from Allison's bow, whistling through the air. They move so fast that Vera doesn't see one until an Oni chops it in half with its blade. Her attention is immediately diverted by another attack, so she has to focus on fighting for herself instead of helping her friend.

The Oni raises his sword with his arms parallel to the ground. Vera notices that some of its movements are based on dramatics, so she reaches down and picks up a broken shard of glass from the cement. While the spirit's midsection is exposed, she slashes the glass across its stomach, causing it to stumble backward.

A hiss releases from her mouth when the sharp edges slice into her palm. She opens her hand and drops the glass, cringing at the sting and the blood dripping from a jagged line in her skin. She squeezes it into a tight fist, but crimson droplets still splatter onto the cement at her feet, a sign that maybe she'd done more damage to herself than the damn spirit.

How do they fight against an enemy they can't beat? Even at the Animal Clinic, they'd only kept the Oni out because of Deaton's Mountain Ash barrier inside the building. They hadn't actually won the fight. And now that there's nowhere to hide...

Even with everything they do, it doesn't do them any good. Vera takes a quick glance around and realizes that they're losing. Isaac trips over a half-rotten barrel as he backpedals away from an Oni. Allison quickly jumps to his defense, using her bow to block the strike from its blade swinging her arms to the right, causing the weapon to fly out of the Oni's hand.

Vera darts forward and grabs the handle of the sword, gritting her teeth against the stinging protest of her palm and the tears blurring the corners of her vision. She copies her actions from the Animal Clinic. Driving the blade into the fallen warrior's sternum, she locates a chink in its armor and successfully impales it. But she's only given a second of victory before it disappears into the shadows and reappears several yards away with its sword in hand.

"How do we stop them?" Isaac asks over the sounds of chaos.

"You can't!" Noshiko shouts.

The terrible metallic shing! of a blade slicing across Isaac's abdomen makes Vera's heart stutter in her chest. She uses the covered army truck as leverage for an instinctive desire to help him like he did for her. Her boot kicks off of the hood of the vehicle, its rusted metal groaning under her weight. Vera lands on one of the spirits attacking Isaac and knocks him to the ground.

She knows a sword is between them and the Oni is preparing to use it. So she flails, punches, kicks, does anything to keep it from gathering its bearings enough to use it. An ache spreads up her arm as her knuckles bust against its silver mask. Then her hand feels like it's on fire, and she cries out when she bestows another blow, because fuck, she definitely just broke it.

Vera scrambles to her feet just as an arrow hits one of the Oni near Dominic in the center of the chest. Instead of ignoring it and continuing to fight, searing yellow-green light bursts out of the point of impact. Its weapon clatters to the ground as it clutches at its chest, then disappears with an earth-shattering crackle of thunder.

Holy shit. Had Allison just killed one of them?

The Oni whose mask she'd obliterated her hand on rises, driving the sword toward Vera with his arm straight out. She instinctively goes intangible to prevent the blade from stabbing her straight through the heart. But the horrible sound of it slicing through flesh still greets her ears, and Vera turns around just in time to see Oni yank the sword out of Allison's stomach and back through her.

Vera doesn't care if the spirit comes back for vengeance on its missed target. Her lack of focus on her powers causes her to return to her normal form, horrified at what she sees. Allison's hand moves to cover her gaping wound as if to stop it from bleeding. But one look, and Vera knows. She knows. That sword had gone clean through her.

Her blood is on the wall of the building behind her. A long, dark splatter, forever staining the brick with the mark of death. It's on that wall and on Vera because it had landed on her as she'd become tangible again. Her best friend's blood. It's warm and dripping. On her face.

Allison must read her expression, because a small smile of reassurance lifts her lips before agony takes over.

Vera's knees buckle. Then she's the one falling, and did the sword pierce her instead, because why are her legs not working when Allison is the one who'd gotten stabbed? She expects to hit the concrete hard but never does. Arms wrap around her and cocoon her to a warm chest, the shirt wet with blood. Isaac's voice is in her ear and he's telling her something but Vera doesn't hear it. She can only hear that metallic impact of the sword over and over and o v e r —

And Isaac is pulling her back and no. Vera thrashes, scratching and clawing at his arms to let her go, because her friend is dying and she can't let her go without saying she's sorry, Oh God, she's so sorry, and she can't even phase out of Isaac's grip in fear that the same thing will happen again, even though the Oni appear to be gone. She can't lose him, too.

Pain. Pain in her chest and pain in her hand that's broken and sliced. Pain throbbing in her head and pain twisting her heart. She doesn't remember ever feeling this much of it before, not even when her dad died.

Scott. He's here. He scoops Allison up into his arms to cradle her, and Vera decides that's good because at least she can go in the embrace of someone who loves her.

"Did you find her?" Allison asks. But she sounds fuzzy. "Is she okay? Is Lydia safe?"

"She's okay, yeah," Scott assures her. "I can't... I can't take your pain."

Everything is buzzing.

"That's because it doesn't hurt."

Dom rushes over. The moonlight catches his face and Vera realizes he's crying. He's crying and he's trying to heal Allison, but she's shaking her head and whispering something and trying to push him away.

Vera doesn't hear anything else because it finally hits her. Everything barrels into her like an oncoming train, and she inhales a long, shuddering breath. Before the dam bursts. She turns into Isaac's chest to muffle her sobs. The sobs that must be cracking. Her ribs and bruising her skin because she. Deserves to be wrecked. She can't breathe, can't, can't, can't —

And then Scott's own cries meet her ears and. She's gone Vera knows she's gone

and e v ery

             t h i ng

                 sp l i nt er s

                       i n si d e of h e r

_________

a/n:

PAAAAAAAIIIINNNNNNN.

i will admit that i rarely *actually* cry while writing my stories, and i mean the tears-rolling-down-your-face, constantly-wiping-your-nose type of crying, but this chapter really did it for me. i feel like that's why it took me so long to finish it. i knew what was going to happen and i wanted to push it back as long as possible, but then the teen wolf instagram page posted a clip of derek in the movie and i started to hyperfixate on this fic again.

i want to give vera endless hugs and wrap her in a blanket with some of mai's spiced hot chocolate and protect her from everything bad in this world. i am too cruel to her.

(and it only gets worse.)

i truly can't believe we're on the season 3 finale now. it took me two freaking years to write this, which is embarrassing, but thank you for going along with this ride. we are almost done. but it hasn't come to a complete stop yet, so fear not.

thank you for reading and i'm sorry for breaking your hearts </3

—kristyn

( word count: 5.0k )