LOST SOULS!
CHAPTER NINE.
you're my brother.

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WARNING: includes dark themes such as suicide and possibly other triggers. please be mindful and stay safe xx

WHEN ADRIAN REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS, HE FOUND THE BIG GREEN EYES OF LYDIA MARTIN STARING AT HIM IN AWE WITH THE PADS OF HER SOFT, SMOOTH FINGERTIPS CARESSING HIS ANGLED FACE. A tired groan rumbled in the back of his raspy throat, his head slowly rising from its spot on his shoulder- which had a bit of drool on it- as he struggled to drag himself back up to his seat. "What happened while I was out?"

"W-Well, for starters, your wound is completely gone," Lydia released a shaky breath as she gulped to free herself from the burden of worry, following her brother out of the bathroom. "And there is seriously something wrong with this place."

"Yeah, this place isn't exactly doing well for me- human and supernatural-wise either, Lyds." Adrian grumbled as he walked over to where he had placed his phone, sighing when he saw he had a few missed calls and texts from both Stiles and Scott; the Stilinski boy's notifications winning by a landslide. "We should leave."

"But they were suicides, not murders," Allison pointed out to the two siblings when she noticed the female redhead of the pair nod at the previous sentence and begin to pack up her stuff, the male helping. "And it's not like this place is haunted, right?"

"Well, maybe not haunted, but my Necromancer senses are definitely tingling and telling me that that couple Lydia heard in the other room next to us made their suicide pact in that very room." Adrian was not one keen on being open to ideas as he shoved more of Lydia's stuff away from sight, receiving a hit on the arm at how careless he was handling the items. "Ow! Relax, it's just a makeup bag!"

"Maybe that's why they're renovating." The strawberry blonde turned to her best friend after telling her brother off, walking towards the Argent girl with wide eyes. "Maybe they've been scraping brain matter off the wood paneling."

"That's a little intense." Adrian mumbled after Allison softly and calmly told them that they should find out what's going on before jumping into anything just to be sure.

"Let's go check back at the reception desk and ask." The tall brunette waved her arm back in the direction of the door, her best friend right on her tail. However, as they opened the door to leave, they noticed the male of the group wasn't following. "Adrian?"

"Yeah, I'll pass, thanks. That old lady was quite frankly too much for me and my Necromancer side to handle, so I'll just stay here and hopefully sleep this dreadful night away." The teenage boy crossed his arms over his chest, flopping back onto one of the beds with a huge sigh; cracking one eye open. "Good luck though."

"Asshole." Lydia muttered, rolling her eyes before herself and the hunter slipped away to go back down to the reception desk; shutting the door on their way out.

After hearing the door close with a soft click, Adrian found himself relieving himself of a deep, repressed breath. Sitting up upright from his position on the bed, he found his supernatural abilities radiate through his skin, a weird and indescribable feeling coming over him.

Adrian had hoped that keeping himself locked up in the motel room would lessen the estranged feeling he was getting, but it didn't help it in the slightest. In fact, the boy could feel himself getting worse by the minute . . . and he feared for how bad things would become as the night continued.

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Allison and Lydia returned in a stricken panic, an alarmed look set clean on their faces as they released shaky breaths while the boy watched them tensely with a faint tilt of the head. "What on earth has gotten into you two?"

"Adrian, you saw the sign. You saw that it definitely said one hundred and ninety-eight, right?" The strawberry blonde sputtered out, her green eyes holding a certain terror which resulted something to stir horridly in his chest.

The boy stilled, his body tensing up as he shut off his phone and put it back in his pocket. He looked between the two females wearily, his words dragging out from his lips slowly. "Yeah, why?" Due to the reaction he got, he assumed his answer wasn't the one they had hoped to hear. "What's going on?"

"The sign now says two hundred and one." Allison notified as her and her friend exchanged a long glance, turning back to the other teen whose face was still processing the news. "Adrian . . . there are three more suicides that are going to happen."

"But, wait," the other redhead blinked a few times in hopes that he would wake up from this dream back in a comforting bed, free of all these problems that currently wound round him like a snake with its prey as his head often turned and thumped when attempting to understand. "How do you know that they haven't already occurred?"

"Because you would've sensed something, right? With your abilities?" Lydia implored, running a hand through her gently-waved hair as she paced closer to the bathroom. "I've already texted Stiles, he's on his way."

"Wha- Stiles?!" Upon hearing the call of his boyfriend's name, Adrian was shooting up like a rocket as he carried himself closer to his sister and her friend; shaking his head. "What? No. No Stiles."

"Too late, he's already on his way over." Lydia shrugged, making her brother exhale and closing his eyes in dissatisfaction. His nostrils flared out slightly due to his released, huffy breathing while his green eyes became exposed once more; wearing anything but pleased. "Look, I know you two aren't on the best of terms right now, but we need his help. You guys can talk it out later."

The boy merely just rolled his eyes, his pink lips scoffing as if in great disbelief at the audacity she had to say such words. "Great. Talk. Yeah, that should most definitely work after he accused us both of murder." His sarcastic mutters were cut short by a sudden, frantic knocking at the motel room door. All colour left Adrian's face; having heard the knock so many times now, it was permanently ingrained inside his mind.

Stiles was quick to welcome himself into the room after Allison had let him in, his hands and lips stationed in the position to rant and ramble about whatever was on his hectic mind . . . yet he stopped completely when his eyes laid on a certain redheaded boy, his steps halting entirely as his hands fell back down.

The two teens stared at each other, their lips sealing into a thin line which proved neither were taking the chance to speak. They didn't trust their own voices at that moment. Their eyes drowned in one another's instead, feeling suffocated with the way it completely swallowed them in mesmerisation. Adrian felt his lips grow dry at the sight, Stiles mirroring the action as they stood meters apart with rigid bodies.

Lydia rolled her eyes at the pair, huffing as she walked in between them to break the strong eye contact. She gave her brother a look which basically said something mutely along the lines of 'please discuss this later' to which Adrian gave her a half-hearted glare. He knew he couldn't place much of the blame on her- or any at all, really. They had bigger problems at hand to deal with. He had no time to be petty. He needed to man-up.

The two girls filled Stiles in on what they had been theorising for the past hour now, each female taking turns in explaining whilst the other male in the room just stood quietly to the side; debating whether he should share that he basically had a bullet hole embedded in his head only moments ago . . . and Toby Valack was the one to get rid of it.

His boyfriend's earlier words had yet to leave his mind, or even become an afterthought to him. He couldn't tell what Stiles' main motive was. Did he want him to react a certain way? Was it malicious? An act of jealousy? Worry? The possibilities had his head doing full on 360's . . . so he chose not to think about it anymore to the best of his forgetting abilities.

Adrian, for once, decided he would actually be a team player and listen in on the conversation his three friends were having; staying as silent as a mouse the whole time whilst doing so. He listened as Allison told them all about how Scott had unexpectedly made an appearance in their bathroom whilst she was showering, acting oddly out of place.

"Isn't that just Scott though?" Adrian asked, all heads turning to him as he shrugged. "He's a guy, isn't he? Don't the majority of us all think about joining a girl in the shower at least once?"

"I don't, and neither should you." Stiles shot back with almost immediately, giving his boyfriend a hard, judgemental look; which was returned.

"I said the majority, Stilinski." Adrian deadpanned, rolling his eyes, so he could have a good transition into looking away.

"No. The last time I saw Scott like that was during the full moon." Allison informed them while she paced, anxiously holding her wrist as the two boys looked away from each other when caught staring.

"Yeah, I know, he was definitely a little off with me, too." Stiles agreed, getting into what Adrian liked to call his 'detective pose' whilst he sided with the Argent. "But actually, it was Boyd who was really off. I watched him put his fist through the vending machine." He made a fist shape with his hand, doing a weak punching motion in demonstration.

"See, it is the motel." Lydia justified her theory, looking between them all worriedly. "Either we need to get out of here right now," she suddenly turned around to the beside drawer, pulling out the bible from before. "Or someone needs to learn how to do an exorcism ASAP before the werewolves go crazy and kill us."

"Okay, just hold on, all right?" Stiles tried to bring a sense of calmness into the room by lifting his hand. "What if it's not just the motel? The number in the office went up by three, right?" Adrian furrowed his ginger brows in confusion. What was he getting at?

"You mean like three sacrifices?" Allison recalled, the wrinkles forming in the lost redhead's face ceasing at her words; his mouth forming into a perfect o shape.

"What if this time it's three werewolves?" The Stilinski boy pushed his new theory onto them once more, all the others getting his reasons for once.

"Scott, Isaac and Boyd." Adrian selected, meeting the hazel eyes of his boyfriend as they stared at each other for a long moment; each of them pursing their lips as Stiles went on.

"Maybe we were meant to come here." He claimed, gently approaching the boy before Lydia spoke up.

"Exactly!" She exclaimed, the two boys maintaining their distance now with little eye contact as the strawberry blonde waved her arms around. "So can we get the hell out of here now? Please?"

"Yeah, not to sound too entitled but this place isn't exactly ideal for me and my abilities." Adrian stood up from the bed he had been sitting down on, his lips disappearing with his fake, small smile.

"Wait, hang on. Let me see this." Stiles' eyes caught sight of the bible now in the grasp of Lydia Martin's hands, prying it from her to flick through its pages. He took out one, loose, folded piece of paper; striking the others as curious.

"What is that?" Allison wondered as they all gathered round the boy, looking down at the singled out piece of paper only to see it was from an old newspaper article.

"Twenty-eight-year-old man hangs himself at the infamous Glen Capri." Stiles reads slowly, only making the surrounding atmosphere more tense. He set the single piece of paper down, shaking the bible until other folded bits of parchment fell out and onto the bed in front of them.

They all began to rummage through them, Lydia spotting two in particular. "No. Look at these two. They both mention the room 217. These are probably all the suicides that happened in this room."

"So if every other room has a bible like us . . ." Adrian trailed off, his face scrunched up as if in pain from his words. "There could be articles like these two in all the rooms."

Stiles grimaced at his boyfriend's words, both of them sharing the same facial expression as he talked. "That's a beautiful thing. Most places leave a mint under the pillow. This one leaves a record of all the horrible deaths that occurred."

"What if the room next door has the one about the couple?" Lydia shared her thought aloud, eyes wide as she glanced to her brother. "The one that I heard and Adrian felt."

"Wait, what?" Stiles blinked in a moment of taken back disbelief to recover, his neck bowing as he turned to his boyfriend with pursed lips.

Adrian's green eyes immediately widened, quick to call over his shoulder as he ran from the three. "Let's go check out that room guys!"

The Martin boy's friends all joined him as he tried the doorknob to the hotel room next to his sister's, groaning when it wouldn't budge. "It's locked."

"No, that was not locked before." Lydia quickly spoke behind him in panic, turning to Allison who would most likely be next to come up with a wise and sensible decision.

"Forget it. We need to get Scott, Isaac and Boyd out of here." The Argent told them, all her friends seeming to agree as Stiles zoomed off; the others stopping in their few taken steps when they heard the new sound of a power tool whirring behind the locked door.

All of them slowly turned to the face the door again, their eyes as wide as golf balls as Lydia shakily asked amongst them. "I'm not the only one who heard that, am I?"

"It sounds like someone turned the handsaw on." Allison said with a face filled with confusion as she concentrated on the noise, Adrian muttering something about the broken down hotel even having a handsaw in the first place as his boyfriend came rushing back over.

"Handsaw?" Stiles' voice wavered in disbelief, Adrian having enough of blindly waiting and listening as he shoved his full body weight onto the door; unlocking it for him and his friends to stumble right into. Ethan was now in sight, holding the cause of the sudden whirring noise in his hands as he moved the slicing machine closer to his stomach. His face was stone-cold, emotionless, as if he had no idea what he was about to do. "Hey, no, Ethan, don't!"

"Stiles, no!" Adrian shouts in a panic as he watched his boyfriend run up to the werewolf and wrestle with him over the handsaw, the redhead seeing how the supernatural being was easily going to overpower him and win with his super strength.

Catching up with the scene in front of him finally, the Martin boy resisted the urge to immediately jump in and help the struggling Stilinski as his mind told him to think logically. He searched the room, his heart beating loudly over the sound of mechanical whirring when he spotted a plug socket near the door; the lead connecting to the handsaw plugged into it.

He dived for it, just managing to grab onto the wire and rip it from the socket as Stiles fell to the ground; his face about to be a potential candidate for getting sawed in half had the plug not been pulled and stopped the machine.

The room fell to a silence, heavy breaths being the only sound heard as the four teens stared at Ethan; awaiting the next- and possibly dangerous- move. Spoiler alert . . . they were sadly right.

Adrian's face was horrified as he watched the werewolf extend his claws and attempt to slash them across his own stomach, Stiles struggling with him, once again, being the only thing in his way.

The Martin boy didn't hesitate to join his boyfriend this time in restraining Ethan, grabbing hold of his other clawed arm as the two boys fought against him; grunting with applied strength along the way.

Being stronger than the two of them combined, the twin had no problem in ripping them off him as he lurched forwards; the hands on him falling free just as he fell into the heater at the front. He screamed as the sound of burning skin went off, causing him to collapse onto the ground and roll there in agony.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked Adrian as the two boys collected themselves to their feet after being flung to other sides of the room, both watching the other in concern.

"Yeah. You?" Adrian breathes out with a heavy nod as he started getting up, seeing his boyfriend nod and open his mouth to say something else until Ethan spoke before he got the chance to.

"What just happened?" He seemed disoriented, his eyes lost as, out of panic most likely, he soon ran out of the room; making all the remaining teen's eyes widen and rush after him.

"Ethan!"

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"Didn't you hear what I just said?" The twinned werewolf spoke to the entourage of teens he had following him down the steps of the motel outside, sounding rather annoyed with their questions whilst he buttoned up his blue shirt he had taken off previously to hold a handsaw up to his skin. "I don't know how I got there or what I was doing."

Stiles subtly rolled his eyes from behind him, hot on his heels. "Okay, you could be a little bit more helpful, you know? We did just save your life."

Ethan turned round with a glare as fiery as the sun, even his human eyes causing the group to step back a bit. "Well you probably shouldn't have."

"Yeah, you're right, maybe we shouldn't have." Adrian answered back with through the gritting of his teeth, his fingers curling up against the skin of his palm by his sides. He didn't step back from the boy. Instead, he took a step forward, unafraid.

Ethan looked the redhead up and down and scoffed in amusement with his lips coyly quirking upwards, shaking his head as a mean look covered his eyes. "You don't scare me, Martin." He stalked closer to the boy, their faces inches apart now as they glared at one another in seemingly an act of dominance. "No. You lost your edge a long time ago."

Adrian's Adam's apple bobbed at his words as his mouth became dry, his thick swallow doing him no favors as the werewolf's eyes cast forwards behind the redhead. The Martin teen didn't have to look, so he didn't. Plus, a part of him didn't even want to. He knew exactly what Ethan was talking about . . . he knew exactly who he was talking about.

Even when Ethan was walking away from them, Adrian still stayed glued to his spot; his chest feeling weighty as he exhaled deeply through his nostrils.

Recognizing the signs of something bothering his boyfriend, Stiles gently leans forwards to caress the boy on the forearm; sending him a look mixed with confusion and worry which made the redhead roll his eyes and shrug the touch off of him.

"I'll find Scott." Allison said after a moment, the two females glancing wearily between the couple rather worriedly at the lack of affection between them. Stiles and Adrian were never really one into PDA or even a public relationship at all right now, but they always had some type of vibe to them that made all their friends aware . . . but it was seemingly hard to find that now. "You guys grab Isaac and Boyd. The best thing we can do is get them out of this place."

As the Argent marched up the stairs, Lydia walked forwards; her brother furrowing her eyebrows at her actions. She didn't even glance at the two boys as she descended up the flight of stairs to follow after her friend. "I'm going to help Allison with Scott."

A low growl tore through Adrian's throughout, his nostrils flaring as he glared at the back of the strawberry blonde's head. "Lydia!"

"Thank me later!"

"Whatever." The male Martin huffed after a thick second, walking away in long strides without checking if the fellow teen was following. His green eyes scanned the empty car park of the hotel, nothing out of the ordinary catching his eye as he sighed. "They're probably still in their rooms. I vaguely remember seeing Isaac walk into a room not that far from ours."

"Right, good plan." Stiles agreed awkwardly, the two boys hearing their trainers hit the hard ground as they speed walked to their location. For a while, that was pretty much all the noise they made until the Stilinski spoke up. "Look, I know my words were harsh-"

"Really? You don't say."

"And I regret saying them the way I did," Stiles rolls his hazel eyes at the sarcastic reply, withdrawing from the look he was giving as he worked on finishing his own statement. "But you can't exactly blame me with the way you've been acting."

"So you really do think I'm the murderer?" Adrian casually asked, no longer feeling the need to yell anymore. He was too tired.

"I never said that." Stiles shook his head to go with his mutter, taking a deep breath in before letting it back out again. "I know I've been stressed recently okay- we all have. I just want to make sure that I walk out of here tonight with everyone that I care about safe- especially you. So, please, just tell me what's been going on with you."

"Nothing has been going on with me." Adrian denied, his voice almost robotic sounding as he stared ahead at the lineup of room doors they were approaching.

"Oh, I see, so seeing your dead best friend is considered 'completely normal' now then, right?" Stiles was abruptly grabbed by the shoulder; not harshly, but definitely enough to make him jump. He was spun round to be met with the glare of his very own boyfriend, who pointed a stern finger at his heart area.

"First off, if you want to talk to me about something, we do it after we know Scott, Isaac and Boyd are safe. Secondly, you have no right to even speak his name to me right now; not after accusing me of all these recent murders." Stiles remained quiet with his mouth agape, prompting Adrian to tug lightly on the red zip-up hoodie he was wearing. "Got it?"

"Okay," Stiles eventually said, the hand on his shoulder leaving the second his mouth spoke as the two boys stared at each other with a look that had never danced in their eyes when looking at each other before. "I get it. I'm sorry."

Adrian swallowed up the tiny drip of quilt he felt when the Stilinski boy's face fell, mentally hitting his brain to snap out of it. Don't apologise. He thought to himself, the two walking ahead in another thick silence. This is only proving Ethan right, Adrian.

Then, the redhead abruptly stopped dead in his tracks; his eyes seeming dazed as his green orbs trained to the hotel floor in what appeared to be concentration. Stiles took a few more steps before he noticed the teen was no longer by his side, turning round to give him a confused look as he gestured to what awaited them. "Adrian?"

"I-I don't feel so good." Adrian mumbled, looking up with a scrunched up face as he shook his head.

"What? Why? What's wrong?" Stiles rushed out worriedly, jogging to be by his side and placing the palm of his hand on the redhead's forehead to feel for a temperature.

"No. It's not me." The Martin gently pried the hand away from him, still holding onto the Stilinski boy's wrist as the feeling grew on him like an itch he couldn't place; therefore not reach. "It's someone else."

At that moment, Stiles' eyes cleared as his mouth dropped to a perfect o shape. "It's your Necromancer side, isn't it?" The boy only nodded, looking a bit paler than before. "Follow it."

"What?"

"Follow it. You're a Necromancer, you have a death sense. If you tune into it and follow it, you'll be able to find the source and we'll take care of it." Stiles elaborated, waving his hands around in frantic gestures in hopes of stopping this nightmare of a night. He could only hope Allison and Lydia were having more luck than they were.

"Not trying to be rude here, Stiles, but I ended up almost dying with the person the last time I did that." Adrian grunted, feeling his senses begin to draw an imaginary line of sorts for him; giving him more of a chance to track the source down.

"Well, this thing won't be going away anytime soon unless we find it, so I suggest putting that brain of yours to good use!" Stiles poked at the centre of his boyfriends' forehead, earning a heated glare in response but getting the boy to try nonetheless.

With every step he would take, Adrian could feel his senses kicking up and suffocating him; making him pick up his pace until he was jogging down the halls to the room in which he felt drawn to enter. Without thinking, he rammed his full weight onto the door; ignoring the slight throb of his shoulder which would surely leave a bruise as days came to pass when the two teens entered the room hurriedly.

The first thing Adrian and Stiles both noticed was two feet sticking out of a filled bathtub, a heavy black safe placed on top of whoever was submerged into the water to stop them from rising back up for air. Their eyes widened in horror as they sprinted forwards, rolling up their sleeves as they soon stood above a motionless Boyd; his eyes looking dead as the water rippled gently around him.

Stiles dove his hand into the water out while Adrian worked on getting the safe off of the boy, grunting with effort as his shoes squeaked beneath his feet on the mucky, wet tiles beneath them. "He blocked it. He blocked the drain with something. I can't get to it." The Stilinski boy informed him frantically.

"Help me get this off of him!" Adrian let out a cry as he used all the strength he could, his fingers beginning to throb with its attempts to wedge its way under the safe to enhance its chances of being lifted. Both boys made strained noises as they tried with all their might to lift the heavy object, but they were no werewolves. "I wish we had Scott with us right about now! How long do you think he can stay alive underwater if he's not dead already?"

"You think I know that?" Stiles questioned as panic and fear began to now take a full toll on them, both knowing the chances of loosing Vernon Boyd tonight were increasing. "It's too heavy." With a tired sigh, the Stilinski boy released his hold on the safe and walked back to examine the situation. In doing so, he accidentally knocked into a heater much like the one Ethan had before. "Ow!"

The sound of pain made Adrian whirl round to check if the boy was okay while still trying his luck with the safe, his green eyes clearing as a light bulb moment appeared in both his and his boyfriend's head. "The heat! I-It's the heat!" Adrian realised, Stiles nodding eagerly in agreement. "We need to get Boyd to a source of heat . . . which would be a lot easier if he wasn't underwater with a mammoth of a safe on top of him." The redhead trailed off, looking worriedly to the dark-skinned werewolf. He lamented a sigh, dropping his head down in defeat. "If Lydia were here, she'd know what to do."

"Well, she's not!" Stiles bit back as he approached the boy. He set a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder, licking his lips anxiously as he stared into the forest green eyes filled with hopelessness. "Adrian, you need to stop thinking about what Lydia would do if she were here. She's not here. Alright? Right now, I need you to think about what Adrian Martin would do?"

Adrian stared at him for a nanosecond before slowly nodding, his lips moving with the ghost of words passing through as his mind searched for anything he could. Then, like how little him would look when the first firework of bonfire night would go off into the sky, his face found hope again. "The bus! Yes! The bus!" He exclaimed, turning to his boyfriend and setting a hand on his shoulder; the two of them both having one hand on each other's shoulders now. "They always have emergency road flares! I read about them for Coach's class. They have their own oxidizers; meaning they can burn underwater!"

Stiles grinned at his words, nodding with the new information as he got up. "You're a genius, Adrian!" Sloppily, he kissed the boy on the cheek with pride without even thinking of the awkward terms they were currently on; bolting away to retrieve the flares before he could rethink his actions.

Adrian's new idea gave him the strength to keep on trying to lift the safe. He knew his attempts wouldn't work and the safe was far too heavy for him, but it didn't feel right for him to just stand there and do nothing while he waited for Stiles to return.

Then, a gentle finger tapped his shoulder; making the Martin snap his head up in the hopes of it being his boyfriend with the flares in hand. His face turned mutual at the sight of Toby Valack, who gave him a weak smile as the redhead stopped his lifting of the safe. "Hi."

"Unless you can help me get this safe off of Boyd, I would appreciate it if you just leave." Adrian's words could be heard in a growling tone, the redhead turning away from the blonde so he wouldn't have to stare at his dark-brown eyes any longer.

"Isaac's under the bed." Toby informed him, unprompted, making the teen once again stop his actions and turn to his best friend with a fed up look.

The boy didn't believe him. "Yeah, sure he is. You're not really helping me out here- woah!" Adrian was brought up to his feet by his best friend grabbing onto his hand, directing him out of the bathroom and to the front of one of the two beds.

"Look under it." Toby whispered to him carefully, his tone giving off the impression to be quiet and slow with his movements as they both bent down to look. Adrian was the one to peel back the fabric of the bedsheets, his eyes widening when he saw a frightened Isaac Lahey gasping in fright at the sudden company as he backed himself under the bed further whilst curling himself up into a tighter ball of fear.

Startled, the redhead stumbled back, moving backwards on his bum with the use of his hands as he stayed there for who knows how long; a hand on his shoulder quick to release him. Thinking it was Toby again, Adrian went to sigh only for it to be let out as a small yelp of surprise instead when he saw Stiles standing above him with the flares in hand; The Valack boy no longer in sight. "I got 'em. What do I do? How do I do this?" He rushed, his face calming somewhat as he tilted his head; taking in the frazzled state of the boy below him. "You alright?"

"Y-Yeah." Adrian swallowed, scrambling back up to his feet and fixing up his shirt. He cleared his throat, gesturing to the flares the other boy had in his hand. "You take the cap off and use it like a match to light it! Here! Give it to me!" He was quick to extend his hand when he saw the boy struggle, a flare being placed in his palm just as fast as the redhead got to work. It only took a few tries until the sizzling sound of success filled the room.

With no hesitation, the Martin rushed back to the bathroom with the stick of fire in his hand. He found a good open spot for him to dive into, launching his hand underwater. "Sorry about this, Boyd."

The second the fire connected with the young werewolf's skin, Boyd lurched upright from the bathtub; the heavy safe falling off of his chest as if it were simply a cardboard box. He snarled with his now protruded fangs, Stiles clutching onto Adrian's forearm to bring him back as the redhead dropped the flare on the tiled ground.

The two boys slowly retreated out of the room as Boyd began to morph back to normal, giving him time. Both of them sighed collectively in relief as Adrian grabbed the second flare his boyfriend had brought with him; receiving a look of puzzlement. "What are you doing?"

It only took one try this time to get the flare lit, Adrian shrugging with the stick of fire in his hand. "Isaac's under the bed." He bent down on one knee in front of the bed Toby had brought him to, lifting the bedsheets and shouting. "Fire in the hole!" As he threw the stick under the bed; Isaac's cries soon filling the room.

❚ ❚ ❚

Sadly, the two boys weren't able to stay with the two werewolves for comforting time as Lydia had frantically called her brother soon after; telling him and Stiles to meet up with her and Allison on the other side of the motel. They obliged, meeting up with the girls and sharing that they had seen to Isaac and Boyd while also explaining the whole "heat being the solution" to them. Unfortunately, their luck ended there.

"We can't find Scott anywhere." Allison informed them, looking stressed after telling the two how his room door had just been left wide open with no sign of her ex anywhere.

"It's happening to him too, isn't it?" Stiles worried about his best friend, knowing the likely answer already yet still wanting confirmation to be sure in hopes of convincing himself.

"It's got to be." Adrian sighed, trying to keep his own thoughts of the McCall boy at bay as they walked down the stairs together. "Stiles, didn't you say that there was another flare on the bus? Once we find Scott, we can easily snap him out of it with that and then all the werewolves will be taken care of."

Stiles nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'll get it." They all made their way to the bus, expecting it to be a quick grab and go situation. However, once the four of them had reached the car park where the bus was parked, they all stopped in their tracks as did their hearts for a fearful moment.

Scott stood in front of the school bus, the stench of gasoline giving away what his body was drenched head to toe in. In his right hand, was the last and final flare which had already been lighted. Adrian felt his heart sink, getting wind of what the boy was planning.

"Scott." Allison called out gently, moving slowly towards the boy as if he were a wild animal with the other three trailing behind. They made sure not to make any sudden movements in fear of triggering the boy to do anything. No response was given. "Scott."

The named boy only raised his head when they were now all stood in front of him but at a short distance, keeping away from the trail of gasoline. All of their stomachs sunk with the broken look on the werewolf's face. He looked so tired, so defeated . . . so ready to just give up. "There's no hope." He muttered, looking so foreign to the Scott McCall they were all used to seeing; the one who almost always had a smile on his face or a look of hope glinting in his puppy dog eyes.

"What do you mean, Scott?" Allison managed a weak smile, but it wasn't one of any happy emotion. The way her lips formed a thin line represented how all their hearts were feeling. Small and ready to break at any given moment. "There's always hope."

"Not for me." The boy shut down, his voice drained of all life he used to have. "Not for Derek."

"Derek wasn't your fault." Allison told him, her voice breaking with the emotion that they were all feeling. Adrian noticed how Stiles just stood there helplessly, staring at his best friend of many years with tears building up in his eyes that were tuning into a bloodshot red colour. "You know Derek wasn't your fault."

"Every time I try to fight back, it just gets worse." Scott ignored the many invisible hands reaching out to him, begging for him to step out of what he had placed himself into. His voice sounded like a zombie, his posture sluggish. "People keep getting hurt. People keep getting killed."

"Scott," Stiles spoke up, stepping to be in line with Allison now. "listen to me, okay? This isn't you, all right? This is someone inside your head telling you to do this. Okay? Now-"

"What if it isn't?" Scott questioned, his friends all feeling an imaginary force push deep against their chests; the action way worse- and more painful- than the feeling of being winded. "What if it is just me? What if doing this is actually the best thing that I could do for everyone else?"

It was like watching a movie you couldn't stop or pause as Scott's breathing became quick and rushed, his eyes misting over with memories. "It all started that night, the night I got bitten. You remember the way it was before that? You and me?" He asked his best friend, who looked like he was going to break like a fragile decoration of glass any second now when the tanned boy looked upon him. "We were . . . we were nothing. We weren't popular. We weren't good at lacrosse. We weren't important. We were no one. Maybe I should just be no one again. No one at all."

By now, a single tear had leaked out from Stiles' eye and dribbled down his cheek as he inched his way forwards. "Scott, just listen to me, okay?" He begged, noticing how Scott was handling the flare. "You're not no one. Okay? You're someone, you're . . . Scott, you're my best friend. Okay? And I need you." He took more steps closer to the boy who he had known the longest out of all four of them, his lips quivering as he spoke. "Scott, you're my brother. All right, so," he took a step into the puddle of gasoline, his shoes making a noise as he carefully wrapped one of his hands around the flare stick still in the young werewolf's grasp. "so if you're gonna do this, then I think you're just gonna have to take me with you."

Adrian would have rather experienced all his Necromancer-pains combined than be in the pain he was right now as his body fell to be numb; unable to tell if he was even crying at this point or not. He had lost so much over these last few months, his human-side, his best friend, his full relation to his sister and relationship with his mother . . . he wasn't ready to lose Stiles and Scott too.

Tentatively, Stiles then wrapped his other hand around the flare, gently prying it from his best friend's hands and throwing it behind them. Scott began to breathe heavily in the act of all his emotions beginning to crash down on him once it was out of his hands, the two boys looking like they were about to share a long, heartfelt, brotherly hug.

Adrian tore his eyes away from the scene when that same feeling he had gotten with Boyd struck him, his eyes shooting to the flare only to see it rolling its way back to the puddle of gasoline where the two friends still stood. "No! Stiles! Scott!" The Martin yelled, sprinting forward and tackling them- much like one would in lacrosse- to the ground as a burst of fire erupted from behind them.

The three boys grunted in impact when hitting the ground, all of them having an arm on each other as Allison and Lydia clutched onto each other just as tightly.

As Scott latched onto the couple for dear life, Adrian turned his gaze back to the fire and noticed the way its flames danced peculiarly; the young boy thinking he was beginning to see the silhouette of a person emerge until his boyfriend wrapped his spare arm around him; bowing his head so it came to rest on his chest in relief.

Adrian didn't look back at the fire as it soon diminished, holding onto the two boys, who he used to pick on when little, mocking them beyond belief up until a few months ago, tightly; neither one of them allowing each other to escape the hold.

❚ ❚ ❚

"I don't want to know." Adrian groaned as he was awoken from his slumber, his back muscles aching as he sat up from where he had been sprawled out at the very back of the bus beside Isaac. After last night, it was obvious neither one of the teens were stepping anywhere near that motel ever again; opting to just sleep inside the bus for the night as uncomfortable as it was. "I really don't want to know." Coach Finstock shook his head at them, all the other students piling up behind him. "But in case you missed the announcement, the meet's cancelled, so we're heading home. Pack it in. Pack it in!"

"Let's hope Coach doesn't give this place five stars." Isaac groaned while him and Adrian rubbed at their newly opened eyes, yawning together as they shifted positions to make room for other students entering.

"If it does, I'm committing arson and setting this place ablaze." Adrian deadpanned, stretching his limbs out for a bit as he watched Ethan enter the bus and sit down in the seat beside Scott, starting up a conversation with him with Stiles occasionally chipping in.

"Coach, can I see your whistle for a second?" Lydia suddenly rose up from her seat as the teacher passed where her and Allison were sitting, taking the thing off his neck without another word.

"Hey! I'm gonna need that back." Coach told her, giving it to her regardless as he called after Ethan who had long since left the spot beside Scott, Stiles now taking his place.

Adrian excused himself from Isaac, walking forward with his things and taking a seat behind Stiles and Scott as he watched his sister fiddle with the whistle that had been blown constantly through the whole journey to the motel.

Lydia gently placed her hand at the end and blew into it, pulling back her hand back to reveal familiar purple dust was now sprinkled across her skin. "Wolfsbane."

"So every time that Coach blew the whistle on the bus, Scott, Isaac, Boyd, and Ethan . . ." Stiles trailed off, listing them all on his fingers as it all began to fit together like half of a jigsaw puzzle.

"We inhaled it." Scott finished off, his look filling with realisation also.

"You were all poisoned by it." Allison locked in, nodding along to her own words.

"So that's how the Darach got in their heads. That's how he did it." Stiles mumbled before snatching the whistle out of Lydia's hand quickly, leaning over Scott to open their window. He threw the whistle out just as the bus cranked to life, no time being left to retrieve it as the doors closed.

"Hey, hey, hey! Stilinski!" Finstock shouted, quickly approaching the boy, but it was too late; his beloved whistle was gone. The teacher looked beyond infuriated and fed up by now as he pointed at the brown-haired teen. "You-"

"Sorry, Coach, I dared him to. My fault." Adrian was quick to take the blame, raising his hand guiltily as the teacher turned to him. The redhead offered a nervous smile. "I-I'll get you a new one."

Bobby Finstock narrowed his eyes at one of his best lacrosse players, pointing a slow, wagging finger at him as he backed away from the group. "You better, Martin . . . you better."

Once the teacher was a fair distance away and focusing on other students, he let out a deep sigh of relief; turning back to his friends and focusing yet again on their supernatural problem at hand. "Who do you think could've put it in the whistle in the first place? Not to rule him out completely, but Coach can't even put his own pencil shavings in the bin." Adrian questioned, eyebrows furrowed at how such an idea could even cross ones mind.

"Someone who obviously wants all the werewolves dead." Stiles replied with a sigh, his mind beginning to string onto theories also.

Adrian tilted his head. "Oh, so maybe it was me then." Venom laced every syllable of the redhead's sarcastic shot of words aimed towards the Stilinski boy, who let out a groan and threw his head back.

He turned around in his seat, so they were now face-to-face. "Okay, you know what-"

"Guys," the voice of Scott cut their bickering short, the two boys looking over to see the teenage werewolf staring at them with eyes of pleading sadness; looking as if he was clutching onto his heartstrings with everything he had. "please."

Stiles and Adrian couldn't meet his gaze, opting to just stare at the bus ground beneath their worn out trainers instead. They felt guilty for having this type of conversation now; especially with one of their closest friends present. Scott McCall's earlier acts from last night hadn't left them either, making them feel all the worse. Now wasn't the time.

Mutual ground was found as the young couple shared a quick glance before looking away from one another, Adrian leaning forwards in his seat. He picked up his bag, grabbing his thick jacket that had been worn to conceal his healed wounds as well before he got up and walked closer to the back of the bus; finding that his previous spot next to Isaac was still open.

Setting his stuff down, the Martin boy let out a tired sigh and allowed his eyes to close for a second; fresh air invading his nostrils as he inhaled and exhaled calmly. Despite getting a few hours of sleep on the bus, the redhead was still undeniably tired and thought blissfully of going back to sleep and never waking up again; knowing that sounded way better than what his life was turning out to be now.

A notification suddenly came through on his phone, his pocket vibrating in indication before the device was taken out to reveal a text message. Adrian gulped at the words written clear as day in digital black letters, the sentence lodging a rock in his throat that made it hard for him to swallow.

𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀: 𝘄𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸.

Choosing not to type a text pack, Adrian shut off his phone with a heavy sigh and placed it back in his pocket. Isaac gave him a concerned look, to which the Martin boy shook his head and waved it off in a signal that it was alright.

But, as the bus drove them further back home, Adrian truly began to wonder if things were alright. He wanted to convince himself it was, but not even the truth could take pity on him now. Things weren't alright, things were awkward. And Adrian Martin hated awkward.

Stiles Stilinski and Adrian Martin's relationship was on a scale now, and they had no idea which way they were tipping.

A U T H O R. N O T E
happy 29nth birthday to my boo, dylan o'brien!
i know i'm late and my timing is the worst thing ever so i'm sorry for not updating this fic for so long.

i wanted to get this out because ' dead man ' hit 100k reads recently and that's just insane to me.
thank you for the overwhelming support!
i would also like to take the time to thank you for getting this fic to reach 13k reads!
it really helps in giving me the motivation to write.

let's all be hoping my boys can work things out . . . or will they???? dun, dun, dunnnnnnnn. i'm the worst, i know.

thanks for reading!
love you all!

GIF MADE BY ME !
━ R O S C O E O B R I E N
( 8.2k words )