𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒚-𝒐𝒏𝒆 | 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽𝔂'𝓼 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻

𝘍𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘋𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘢

CHARLOTTE'S EYES SLOWLY FLUTTER OPEN at the sound of her phone ringing from her bedside table. She groans and blindly grabs the device, answering the call with her eyes closed once again. "It's two in the fucking morning, whoever the fuck you are... fuck off." But all she receives is heavy breathing. Brows furrowed in confusion, she switches the lamp on. And the second she checks the caller ID, she sits up, now wide awake. "Shit, sorry. Hey, are you okay?"

"C-Charles?"

At his deadly quiet whisper, her heart thuds faster. Something's wrong. And that's not the banshee side telling her. "Yeah, I'm here," she reassures quickly. "Stiles, what's going on?"

"I don't... I don't know where I am, I don't know how I got here..." Stiles sucks in a deep breath. "I think I was sleepwalking."

Hearing him stammer from what she assumes is fear, Charlotte's grip on her phone tightens. However, her voice remains steady as she tries to calmly question her best friend. "Okay, I'm gonna come find you. Can you tell me what you can see? Anything that can help me?"

"Uh, it's dark, really dark. It's hard to see." He sounds like he's on the brink of hyperventilating; because it's too cold or because he's petrified, Charlotte doesn't know. "I think there's something wrong with my-"

The line goes dead.

Her eyes widen and as she leaps off her bed to begin pacing around her room she dials him again.

"Hey-"

"Stiles?"

"-this is Stiles and you missed me. Leave a message-"

"No, no, no," Charlotte mutters. She hangs up. "Come on, come on..." She calls again. And again. Each time she's directed to his familiar voicemail. She anxiously gnaws at her lip, but before she can try again, Stiles' contact picture appears on her screen. She doesn't think she's ever pressed a button so fast in her entire life. "Stiles?" she answers breathlessly.

"I don't think I can get out of here. I can't move," he quietly tells her.

She nods and grabs her coat off her dresser and car keys, then races out her room and down the stairs. "I'm coming to find you, okay? Can you see anything a bit better now?"

He pauses. "No, no, it's too dark. I can't see much, and something's wrong with my leg. It's stuck on something, and it's... I think it's bleeding."

Charlotte's heart drops to her stomach as she pulls on her Ugg boots. "Stiles, whatever it's stuck on, don't try to get it out, okay? You'll lose blood faster and I need to find you." She's just slammed the front door when she hears him quietly whimper. "Hey, can you hear me?"

"Ah, there's some kind of smell down here. Something smells terrible. It's brutal. My eyes are watering."

The engine to her Toyota starts up and her brows draw together in thought. Where could he be? "You're doing really good," she reassures him. "I'm gonna call your day, okay? And we're gonna-"

"Wait no, no, no, no, don't."

"Hey, he can help-"

"Don't. Ju-just please don't call him. Promise me you won't. He already worries about me too much, Lottie, please."

She grimaces at the desperation in her voice, her fingers clenching the steering wheel until her knuckles are white. "Stiles, what if I can't find you?" The car backs out of the driveway and veers around in the direction to Scott's house. "I can't make a promise like that-"

"No, no, no, just please," he interrupts again. "Please don't call him. Come find me. You can do it. He doesn't have to know. Lottie, you can find me," Stiles whispers.

When he sniffles, Charlotte's eyes begin to water with tears. She quickly wipes away one that drops and she nods. "I'm gonna try everything I can-"

"Lottie, I gotta call you back," he says suddenly. "I have to turn the phone off."

Her eyes widen in alarm and she slams on the brakes, her car skidding to a stop in the middle of the road. "What?" her voice raises in a panic. "Stiles, no, wait-"

"I'm gonna call you right back."

"Hold on, Stiles, wait! Just hold on-" Charlotte yells in frustration when the call cuts out.

Three minutes later, after breaking many speed limits, she takes out her key for Scott's house, her hands fumbling as she unlocks the front door. Her feet thunder up the stairs and before she can reach the top, she's met with the two werewolves staring at her in confusion. "Charles?" Scott asks, his hand going up to his mouth to stifle a yawn. "What are you-"

"It's Stiles."

The boys share a quick look with each other as they begin to realise how scared she is. "What happened?" Isaac questions.

Charlotte runs a hand through her hair. "I don't know- I don't fucking know!" She rapidly explains to them what had happened minutes earlier, and after getting changed into clothes, Scott and Isaac run back down the stairs to meet her by the front door. Everyone freezes when 'We Didn't Start the Fire' loudly blares out of her phone. "Stiles?"

"Did you call him?" he asks fearfully. "Did you call my dad?"

The girl glances to her friends who are intently listening to the call. "No, but Scott and Isaac are with me," she says. "Is it still too dark to see anything? Can you give us anything?"

"It's a basement," Stiles replies. "I think-I think I'm in some kind of basement."

"In a house?" Scott speaks up.

"No. It looks bigger. Like, industrial. I think there's a furnace, but it's cold." The trio all share a look when his voice begins to shake, presumedly from said temperature. "It's freezing down here. I gotta turn the.... I gotta turn the phone off. It's going to die."

Charlotte's eyes widen and she quickly begins to protest. "Wait, wait, hold on. What else is there? Stiles, can you tell us anything else?"

"The phone's dying. I can't talk." Then Stiles' voice drops to a barely audible whisper. "I have to go. Please, just..."

Charlotte's heart thuds faster. "Stiles, why are you whispering?" She's scared to hear his answer.

"Because I think there's someone in here with me."

When they finally arrive at the Stilinski residence, the three don't hesitate to rush inside with the help of Charlotte's key. Once Scott opens Stiles' bedroom door, they find the other Martin sister and Aiden already inside. "What are you guys doing here?" Charlotte questions in confusion. Her eyes find Lydia's. "Did he call you, too?"

She shakes her head. "I heard it."

"Don't ask," Aiden tells the two boys. "It gets really confusing if you ask."

"Okay, well not as confusing as this," Lydia sighs. Plastered across the walls above the bed are countless photographs and newspaper articles, each connected by strings of red yarn that are tied to a pair of shears stabbed into the mattress.

"He uses red for unsolved cases," Charlotte says quietly.

With a shake of his head, Aiden suggests, "Maybe he thinks he's part of an unsolved case?"

"Or is an unsolved case," Isaac corrects.

"Hold on..." Lydia looks between the three newcomers and her eyes narrow. "Is he still out there? You don't know where he is?"

Charlotte sucks in a deep breath as she feels her anxiety beginning to crush her. She was already overwhelmed. But now she's starting to acknowledge the terrifying scenario where they don't find Stiles. " Dee, we're trying," she says. Lydia winces apologetically as she hears her sister's voice crack at the end of the sentence.

"He said he's in an industrial basement somewhere," Scott adds.

Isaac nods and gestures around the room. "We came here to get a better scent."

"What else did he say?" Lydia questions.

Everyone turns to look at Charlotte. She sighs. "He said something's wrong with his leg," she answers. "It's bleeding. And he's freezing, I wouldn't be surprised if he's bordering on hypothermic."

"Tonight's the coldest night of the year," Aiden informs them. "It's going to drop into the twenties."

"What did his dad say?"

Charlotte uncomfortably shifts at Lydia's question. "I was going to call him-"

"Woah, he said not to!" Scott interjects with wide eyes.

Aiden's glances between them. "You didn't notice his Jeep is gone, did you?"

Charlotte's gaze stays locked onto her slippers. "Scott, he's got the whole Sheriff's department," she points out softly. "This is Stiles' life we're talking about, okay?"

Lydia nods, scrolling through her phone as she tries to find Noah Stilinski's phone number "Agreed. I can call him; you promised you wouldn't."

Scott continues to try to reason with the twins. "Hold on, we can call Derek, Allison-"

"Everyone except for the cops. Great idea."

"You guys remember that they only get these feelings when someone's about to die, right?" Aiden points out to the two banshees.

Charlotte gives him a small smile, but it disappears when she turns over to the True Alpha. "Scott, I don't care if you're worried about how Stiles is going to react tomorrow, because right now we don't even know if he's going to make it to tomorrow. We're telling his dad." She arches a brow when his mouth opens. "End of conversation."

Scott sighs as he realises they aren't going to change their mind. "Okay. It's five minutes to the station, let's go."

As Isaac, Scott, and Charlotte move to leave, they pause at Lydia's voice. "We'll catch up."

"You sure?" the blonde-haired girl questions in worry.

Lydia nods, her eyes trailing around the room. "There's something here..."

"Yeah, evidence of total insanity," Isaac mutters.

He grunts when Charlotte harshly elbows his stomach. "Shut the fuck up," she snaps.

"We can figure out what's wrong with him after we find a way to keep him from freezing to death," Scott reasons.

"Go," Lydia ushers them out the door. "We'll be right behind you." She sighs asher sister lingers in the room. "You were on the call with him, Lottie. Go."

»»———-　　———-««

Noah Stilinski breathes heavily as he leans against his desk. He takes a minute to collect himself then turns over to the three teenagers who had come barging into the station a few minutes ago. "If his Jeep is gone, that's where we start. Parrish, let's get an APB out on a blue nineteen-eighty CJ-five Jeep. Cordova, I want a list of any kinds of industrial basement or sub-level of any building that he could've gotten into while sleepwalking. It's the coldest night of the year so far... So, if he's out there barefoot in just a t-shirt, he could already be hypothermic. Let's move fast. Let's think fast." Noah turns to the teens beside him and gestures over to his office. "Three of you, come with me." Once the small group are safe to freely talk, the Sheriff sighs. "Okay, is there anything you need to tell me that I can't tell anybody out there?"

Scott quickly nods. "Lydia knew he was missing."

The man's brows raise and his next question is directed to Charlotte. "Can she help find him? Can either of you help find him?"

"She's working on it," she replies. "But we don't know how to exactly 'turn it on.'"

"Anything else?"

"I called Allison and Chris on the drive over," Charlotte says. "Neither picked up but I left voicemails."

"And I called Derek," Scott adds.

"Can you find him by scent?"

Before either one of the werewolves can answer, knuckles wrap on the door and it opens. "We go it, sir," Deputy Parrish announces. "We found the Jeep."

As Charlotte's car pulls into the hospital parking lot in record time due to the lack of traffic, herself, Scott, and Isaac jump out and run over to the blue Jeep. Stilinski turns around at the sound of their footsteps and sighs. "It's dead," he tells them. "He must have left the lights on."

"Why would he come here?" Scott queries.

"Let's find out," Noah declares.

Scott and Isaac move to follow after him, however, they both pause when noticing that the girl behind them hasn't moved. "Charlie?"

Her eyes stay locked on the blue car as she answers Scott. "I'm gonna stay here. Maybe I can find something from the Jeep."

"Find something?" Isaac repeats. "What do you mean 'find something'?"

Charlotte throws her hands up into the air in frustration. "I don't know, do some sort of banshee shit!"

"It's okay, take your time," Scott reassures her with a small smile. "Call if you find something, okay?"

She nods as they run after Stilinski who disappears ahead into the hospital, and she heaves a sigh once alone. "Okay, Charlotte, do something," she mumbles to herself. She places a hand on the door handle and cautiously opens the driver's door. She jumps back as if anticipating something to fall out. Charlotte chuckles to herself at her reaction, and after a few moments, she gets into the car. With her hands on the steering wheel, she closes her eyes and tries to keep her breathing steady. "Come on, give me something... a noise, anything."

She slowly opens one eye and groans in annoyance at how nothing has changed. She spends another five minutes just sitting in silence, hoping her abilities will be able to uncover a clue to where her best friend is. When her phone loudly rings, she flinches.

Charlotte fumbles to pick it up. "Stiles?" she answers breathlessly.

"It's me, sorry," Scott apologises. "How are you going?"

She sighs and leans her head back into the seat. "Nothing," she mutters. "You?"

"He's not here. The entire building is empty."

"Where the fuck is he then?"

"Lydia just called, she said that he's at Eichen House."

Her eyes widen at the mention of the mental health facility. "Wait, Eichen?" Why the hell would Stiles be at Eichen House?

"Yeah, we're gonna go check it out. Meet us there?"

Charlotte goes to agree but she catches herself before she says yes. "Actually, I think I'm gonna go back to the station... If he's not there, maybe I can find something else that could help?"

Scott sighs. "Lydia said he's there," he reminds. "You guys are never wrong about this stuff."

"I know, but, Scott, we don't know how this banshee thing works. Something feels off. I feel like we're missing something."

»»———-　　———-««

Walking into the Sheriff's station that is completely empty aside from just a few deputies, Charlotte's brows crease as she almost immediately spots Melissa at the reception desk. "Mel, what are you doing here?"

The curly-haired woman spins around and quickly pulls her into a hug. "My shift's over, I wanted to help. What about you? Scott said they're at Eichen now?"

She sighs. "I don't know, it just didn't feel right," she mumbles. "So I'm here."

Both of them turn to the side when they notice Rafael McCall walk into the room with a file in his hand. The man looks between them as he asks, "What are you guys doing here?"

"My shift was over, I just wanted to see if I could help," Melissa explains.

Charlotte hears her name being spoken but it sounds like it's from another world. A cacophony of voices suddenly appear in her head, however, they're all distorted. She can't properly distinguish one from the other. She starts toward the Sheriff's in a trance-like state. Stationed on the desk next to the room, Deputy Parrish stands up to stop the girl from entering. "Hold on, you can't-"

Almost immediately, Melissa recognises that she's going through something supernatural related. She holds up a hand to Parrish. "Leave her."

As Parrish goes to retort, Agent McCall only nods in support. "She's fine," he adds, albeit insanely confused as to what's occurring.

Charlotte walks straight over to the large desk, her eyes locked onto a case file that's ready to be stored away. Her eyebrows furrow as she studies the front of it, the large, red print of 'Case Closed' staring back at her. Her lips purse in concentration as a few specific voices stand out amongst the group of dozens.

One of the bodies, a young girl named Malia, was never found.

It's a coyote den.

This is her home; we're breaking and entering into her home.

Her eyes widen in realisation and she spins around to find Melissa and Rafael watching her in the doorway. "I know where he is, I know where Stiles is!" Minutes later, they're in McCall's car as she tries to explain what had happened. "I just know he's there," Charlotte repeats. "He's in the coyote den."

Noticing her ex-husband's puzzlement, Melissa quickly jumps in to back the girl up. "Trust me, if she says he's there... he's there."

He shrugs. "I believe her."

The two females share an equal amount of shock. "Wait, what?" Charlotte exclaims.

"He told you that it smells really bad to the point his eyes are watering, and its freezing, right?"

"Yeah," she confirms, slowly nodding her head.

"When we sprayed the animal repellent in the coyote den, I couldn't go near it because it smelt so bad it made my eyes water."

Charlotte's eyes widen. "Oh shit, you're good."

"But I'm more interested in what made you think that's where he is."

Her face falls as a sudden anxiety overtakes her as she tries to think of a way to explain without revealing her supernatural abilities. "I-I-um..."

He nods in amusement. "Right."

"It doesn't matter how she knows," Melissa interjects with a scowl toward him. "If Stiles is still sleepwalking like you said, we need to get to him quickly."

The second the car stops in the Preserve, the teenage girl jumps out the car and races toward the coyote den. "Charlotte, hold on!" She ignores the yells behind her and pushes past branches blocking her path.

Charlotte picks up her pace as she finally lays eyes on the den in the distances. Leaves crunching behind her signal that the adults are close behind her, and she ducks down to enter the den. She immediately spots Stiles. The boy has his eyes screwed shut, indeed still asleep just like McCall had theorised. He's crawled up in a fetal position, mumbling inaudible things under his breath.

With her heart in her throat, she crouches beside him and places her hands under his arms to pull him out. The entire way, he flails about, trying desperately to get out of her grip with screams of terror leaving his lips. Charlotte watches tears blur her vision as she listens to him. "Wait! No, wait!"

Melissa and Rafael spot them and quickly run over and help her safely pull Stiles out of the coyote den. He continues to thrash in her arms even as she holds him tight against her body. "Stiles! You're okay!" Charlotte soothes over his pained yells. "Stiles, you're all right! It's me, Charlotte!"

As he registers her voice, Stiles begins to calm down and leans back into her body, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Charlotte pulls him into a hug, rubbing circles on his back as he continues to silently sob. "You're safe," she whispers. "You're okay." Stiles turns around in her embrace and his shoulders visibly relax at the sight of her. She locks eyes with the McCalls over his head and they all share the same look of relief. "You're okay," she continues softly. "It's all over."

»»———-　　———-««

With her head in her hands, Charlotte's eyes tightly shut as Stiles' screams ring through her head over and over. The event from an hour ago repeats through her head as vivid images. When someone sits down next to her, she quickly looks up only to relax at the sight of Lydia. "Hey." The strawberry blonde gives her a small smile, her eyes filled with concern. "How're you doing?"

"Just glad we found him," she replies quietly.

Lydia grabs onto her hand comfortingly. "You found him," she corrects. "How did you know?"

"Scott's dad figured it out as well, so it wasn't all me-"

"Lottie," Lydia firmly interrupts. Her sister falls silent. "You found him. You knew where he was."

Charlotte thickly swallows and looks down to her feet still covered in her Ugg boots. "I was at the station, and I don't know, I just started hearing all these voices. Then I heard the Sheriff and myself on the day we found Malia's den..."

"I just don't get it," Lydia murmurs in confusion. "I heard the whispers, too. I was so sure he was at Eichen."

"I mean, maybe it doesn't always work like that." When she only receives silence as a response, Charlotte continues on. "Like the drawings. The lizards, right? It wasn't an actual tiny lizard killing people; it was the Kanima. Maybe these premonition things aren't always... I don't know."

"Literal?"

"Yeah, maybe it's up for interpretation. Otherwise an actual lizard would have been killing people." Charlotte giggles at the thought. Lydia cracks a small smile. She clears her throat. "Just because Stiles wasn't at Eichen doesn't mean it doesn't have something to do with everything else."

Lydia bites at her lip as she stares off into space. "Maybe I wasn't wrong after all..."

Charlotte softly smiles at her and squeezes her hand. "Maybe not."

Before she can finish her sentence, their attention falls onto Noah Stilinski as he approaches, a relieved and grateful expression adorning his face. "He's sleeping now," he tells them. "He doesn't remember much. It's a bit like a dream to him." He turns to the blonde-haired girl and smiles at her. "Thank you, McCall and Melissa told me what you did."

"It's okay, bit of luck I guess," she bashfully brushes it off.

Then he turns to Lydia who is quick to avoid eye contact. "I'm sorry about earlier," he says quietly. "I was caught up in trying to find him. But that's no excuse. I shouldn't have yelled at you."

Lydia nods. "It's okay," she tells him. "I get it."

Stilinski smiles at both of them and points to the clock on the wall. "Head home, you guys have school in a few hours."

As the twins walk out of the hospital, they get half way across the parking lot before they simultaneously stop. "Do you hear that?" Lydia whispers.

Charlotte's eyebrows furrow as she looks around, trying to find the source of the sound. "Like someone hammering something into my head?"

"Yeah."

She sighs in exhaustion and pulls her sister along. "Come on, we'll figure it out tomorrow. Let's just try and get a bit of sleep."

»»———-　　———-««

Six hours later, Charlotte walks through the halls of the high school. Actually, she's running. She's late to class. But as she weaves her way through the crowds of students trying to push past her, she's slowed down by having to stop every few moments and cover her ears. She winces once more at the loud slam of a locker beside her. She swears she's about to have a damn migraine again. "Lottie! Hey, wait up!" Charlotte spins around at Allison's voice and urgently searches the crowds for the girl. When her eyes land on the brunette, she rushes forward to wrap her in a tight hug. "Oof," Allison grunts. She wraps her arms around her body, tightly squeezing her. "I heard about Stiles, I'm so glad he's okay."

Charlotte gives her a small smile that quickly morphs into a frown. "I called you multiple times... Was your phone off or something?"

"Yeah," she nods. "Which is weird 'cause I never turn it off."

"No, what weird is that you have hundreds of voicemails from some guy," Isaac adds as he joins the couple.

The banshee looks between them, completely lost as to what's going on. "Huh?"

"They're all from an unknown number," Allison explains. "And he's talking in Japanese, we can't understand a word of it."

"It's not just weird, it's weird as fuck," Isaac adds.

Charlotte falls silent. Then a smile slowly lifts at her lips as she comes to a realisation. "Then it's a good thing we know someone who speaks Japanese." As they watch her walk away, Allison and Isaac share a confused look before hurrying off after her. She leads them to the history classroom.

Ken Yukimura looks up from his desk at the knock on the door and smiles. "Charlotte, how can I help you?"

"Actually, it's not exactly me who needs your help..."

After Allison explains to the man about the multiple voicemails left to her on her phone, she plays him one. "You're right," he confirms with a nod. "It's Japanese. Who left this on your phone?"

"I don't know," Allison answers. "All of the messages are the same and they all say Blocked ID."

"Can you translate it?" Charlotte questions.

"Mostly," Mr Yukimura replies. "The man speaking is giving instructions actually. The first line is, 'All evacuees are required to stay at least ten feet back from outside fences.'"

"What does that mean?" Isaac glances to the girls. "What fences?"

Charlotte's lips purse slightly. "That sounds like an internment camp."

Their teacher nods to her. "Exactly. The fences surrounding a Japanese internment camp during World War II. After Pearl Harbour, Japanese Americans were rounded up and put in camps. This man is reading instructions to prisoners upon their arrival." He pauses the recording and hands the phone back to its owner.

Allison pockets the device with a frown. "Well, where does something like this come from?"

"I have no idea. Because it's fake." Allison and Isaac stare at him in surprise and confusion. "It mentions the name of the internment camp as, 'Oak Creek.' There was no internment camp named 'Oak Creek' in California."

When her girlfriend looks to her for confirmation, Charlotte nods. "Yeah, he's right. There wasn't." As they leave the classroom with no less answers to when they had entered, Charlotte sighs. "I just don't get why someone would leave something like on your phone... I mean, it's fake. It makes no sense."

"It's kind of creepy," Allison adds.

Isaac glances to her. "You think?"

Charlotte jumps as a hand is placed on her shoulder from behind and she quickly turns around, ready to hit them. "Woah, hang on!" Scott yells in alarm. He grabs onto her wrist, stopping her from slapping him again.

She gives him an apologetic smile. "Sorry..." Allison chuckles. "What's up, bark-a-lot?"

Scott rolls his eyes. He clears his throat. "Uh, they're doing tests on Stiles all afternoon... I was gonna go over now to visit. Want to come with me?"

"Yeah, of course," Charlotte tells him. She quickly turns to the girl beside her. "You don't mind, do you?"

Allison softly smiles and shakes her head. "Of course not, this can wait," she dismisses. "Tell him I said hi."

Charlotte gives her a kiss goodbye and waves to Isaac before rushing out with her best friend. Whilst they walk through the carpark, Scott's eyebrows furrow in concern as he notices her touch her ear when a car door slams nearby. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks, his voice tinged with worry. She's behaving in a similar manner to her sister who he had seen only minutes earlier.

She tries to give him a reassuring smile, but she's more than confused as to why she's been reacting like this all day. "Yeah," she mutters. "Just hypersensitive to loud noises today."

"That's what Lydia said, too," Scott informs her. "Maybe banshee stuff?"

She shrugs, acknowledging him with a nod of her head. "Maybe. I have no clue what any of it means, though." As they begin the drive to the hospital, she can't help but begin to spiral internally. All she can focus on is what Melissa had mentioned to her the other day. Hallucinations, impulsivity, irritability, insomnia... Charlotte clears her throat, her fingers drumming away nervously against the steering wheel. "Did they tell you why they're doing tests?"

Scott lifts his head up from his phone. "No," he says. "I thought it was just routine check-ups from what happened last night..."

She closes her eyes for a split-second. "When I took him to the hospital the other day, your mom told me what Stiles had said he was feeling. Like, physically and psychologically."

He watches her patiently. "Okay?"

"What he told her, Scott..." She inhales a sharp breath. "They're almost identical to Claudia's symptoms. Insomnia, irritability..."

The boy's eyes widen in shock. "Wait, you don't think-"

"I don't know," she interrupts. "I didn't tell you because it was a theory, but now that he's getting tests... Your mom could've mentioned it to Stiles' dad so- Scott, they could be testing for frontotemporal dementia."

»»———-　　———-««

Ten minutes later, they find themselves in the MRI room they had been given directions to. Charlotte stands beside her best friends, still tensed as she listens to the doors slamming in the distance as if they're right next to her. Stiles sits on the bed in his hospital gown, his leg bouncing uncontrollably as he keeps his eyes cast onto the ground. Melissa and Noah stand to the side as the doctor speaks with the Sheriff and goes over the last few pieces of paperwork. "I'm not sure I know how to pronounce this," the doctor says slowly. "Or if it's not actually a misspelling."

"Just call him Stiles," Noah Stilinski informs.

The man nods with pursed lips and closes the patient file as he turns around to the group of teenagers. "Stiles, just to warn you, you're going to hear a lot of noise during the MRI," he begins, stopping in front of them. "It's due to pulses of electricity going through metal coils inside the machine. Uh, if you want, we can get you some earplugs or headphones?"

"Oh, no, no, I don't need anything," Stiles dismisses with a shake of his head.

"Hey, we're just on the other side of that window," his father tells him. "Okay?"

"Okay." Both Melissa and Noah give him comforting smiles and Stiles pats his dad on the shoulder as they leave. However, Charlotte and Scott stay behind. Once the door closes behind the doctor, Stiles lifts his head to look between his best friends who had remained silent throughout the exchange. "You know what they're looking for, right?"

Charlotte and Scott share a brief look, and they nod. "Yeah, we know," she replies quietly.

Stiles thickly swallows and casts his eyes to the ground. "So you know what happens... That areas of your brain start to shrink. You know, it's the only form of dementia that can hit teenagers..." He's silent for a few beats. "And there's no cure."

Charlotte blinks away the tears that fill her eyes and she sits on the bed of the MRI table beside him. She takes his hand. "Hey, if you have it," she says softly. "We'll do something. Okay? I promise we'll do something."

Scott closes his eyes to try and keep his tears at bay. Stiles remains staring at the wall in front of him. "I'll do something."

They all stare at each other. When a tear falls down Stiles' cheek, Charlotte holds back a sob. "Oh, come here," she whispers. The three teenagers tightly envelope each other into a group hug. Stiles grips onto both of them like they're his lifelines, because in a way they really are. He's worried that if he pulls away from them, they'll disappear completely. And then suddenly he won't have someone to grab onto when he needs them most.

When she and Scott reluctantly leave the room, Charlotte gives Derek a smile when they find him seated in one of the waiting chairs outside. As she realises he and Scott probably need to talk, she bids her best friend goodbye and tells him she's going over to Allison's.

The loud, repetitive clanging in her head doesn't fade as she walks across the parking lot. It sounds like a hammer smashing down onto an anvil. It doesn't quieten as she gets into her car. When she finally gets onto the road, Charlotte is only able to drive for a few further seconds before she has to pull over with the worry that she might end up in an accident. The pain is excruciating. She sucks in a deep breath and rests her head against the steering wheel. The clanging only increases in volume by the second.

She reaches out and turns up whatever is playing on the radio in the hopes to try and drown the sounds out. But despite it now at full volume, the hammering is still the most prominent sound ringing through her mind. It makes her want to scream. Gripping tightly onto the steering wheel, Charlotte does just that, completely unaware that on the other side of town Lydia is going through the exact same thing.

𝘰𝘬 𝘺'𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘰 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧... 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 (𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯) 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨?? 𝘪𝘥𝘬 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘕𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘴𝘰 😶