Untethered

I felt like I was floating. Not in the nice, peaceful way people talk about in meditation videos, but like I was untethered, half here, half somewhere else. My head ached like a drum being beaten too close to my ear. The last two days had been a blur of memories and trances. The words around me came in and out like I was tuning a broken radio.

"The thing is... Kitsune are tricksters..." Kira's voice wavered in and out of my consciousness. I blinked, staring at her lips and trying to understand what she was saying. Tricksters. Right. That was important. "...don't really understand right or wrong."

The sentence lingered in the air like smoke. I should've asked what that meant. I should've cared. But the moment I opened my mouth, the burn started again, right at the back of my neck, where it met my spine. My fingers brushed it absently. There was nothing there. Just skin.

Scott's hand rested lightly on my back, his touch steadying me. Warm, real, here. I blinked up at him and nodded like I was listening. I wasn't.

"How do you offend a Nogitsune?" He asked

"I don't know... but if it's doing something this bad..." I could barely follow. My heartbeat was louder than their voices. Too loud. Too fast.

Then, a sharp shift. "Listen up! Anybody catches the slightest glimpse of Stilinski—"

Coach's bark jolted me. My head snapped up too fast, and I nearly lost my balance. Scott's arm caught me before I could tip.

Stilinski.

The name vibrated through me like a bell. My skin prickled and the cold sweat returned. I could hear his voice before I saw him. Except it wasn't his voice.

"It's me. I swear to God, it's me." He said, looking at Scott, pleading with him.

No. No, it wasn't.

I stood frozen near the edge of the hallway, breath caught like a lump in my throat. Scott hadn't let go of me. His presence was the only thing keeping my body anchored to the ground.

"It's me, Scott. I promise."

But when he spoke, my head throbbed. The air turned thick and oily. My eyes flicked up to him and I didn't see Stiles. I saw darkness. His voice twisted, the tone shifting mid-sentence, and I could almost hear the distorted echo of a snarl behind every word.

"Let him go" I whispered before I could stop myself. I don't know if I was talking to him or to the voice I heard in my head. My hands shook, and I tucked them into my sleeves to hide it.

Scott turned his head just enough to look at me, worried. "Cassie?"

I nodded, too fast. "I'm okay. I'm—fine." Lie. Everything in me was wrong. They were talking again, I was staring at Stiles.

It would seem like him, then I would catch a glimpse of dark eyes, a bandage, bloodied skin.

"...It's all stuff that could be part of something bigger." Something worse.

The words buzzed in my brain, repeating, echoing in a loop. I blinked again and found myself on the bleachers. When had I sat down? I couldn't remember. My palms stung from where my fingernails had dug crescents into the skin.

Stiles was holding a blueprint. I couldn't look at it. My eyes refused.

Scott was near me again. Just like he had been for the last 48 hours. My eyes flicked back to Stiles. His mouth moved, but I didn't hear the words anymore.

Instead, I heard the Nogitsune."

"You're not ready."

"You'll burn before you understand."

-----☾-----

The air was too still.

My feet crunched dead leaves beneath me, the sound too loud in my ears. I was trailing behind the others, Scott's voice occasionally cutting through the buzzing static in my head. He was always near. Always within reach. A lifeline.

But nothing felt real. Not the wind against my face, not the ache in my legs, not the forest breathing around us. And definitely not Stiles, not the thing in his body.

He moved too smoothly. His voice didn't match his face. There was something off about the shape of his shadow.

"Scott! Stop, stop, stop! Everyone, stop!"

I barely heard him. His voice echoed like it was in a tunnel. I stared down at the chain in his hand and felt nothing. Just a dull throb in the back of my head like someone whispering right against my skull in a language I almost understood.

Then THWIP.

"Oh, crap." Everything snapped into focus. Coach's scream shattered the quiet. "Get it out of me! Get it out of me!"

The buzzing stopped. My mind went crystal-clear, cold like glass about to shatter. I turned so fast the world blurred around me, and there he was, Coach Finstock, an arrow buried deep in his chest.

Blood.

His blood.

"Get it out! I'm gonna die!"

"No—no, you're okay, you're okay," I said. My boots crunched over leaves and broken branches as I rushed forward, Scott already in front of me. His arm snapped out when I got too close, holding me back.

"I need to help. Scott, I can actually help." For the first time in almost four days I felt like myself, I could actually think straight.

"Cass, no. stay back," Scott said, voice low but firm, steady even as chaos bloomed around us.

Stiles, no, not Stiles, was kneeling beside him. His hands hovered like he wanted to help, but his face.

His face was a mask. "I could have killed him. What if it was his head? Or his throat?"

That voice wasn't his. It was that thing again. Slick. Cruel. Mocking. Like it was entertained.

My heart beat against my ribs like it was trying to get out. I took a step back, stomach twisting, bile rising. Scott's hand found mine. Grounding.

"He's going to be all right." Scott's words were for Stiles, but his eyes were on me. The sound of sirens blared through the air.

"And my dad..."

I flinched at the sound. That voice didn't deserve to talk about the Sheriff. I wanted to scream at it to shut up, to stop using his face. But I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I locked eyes with Stiles, and everything faded again.

The chaos dulled again, fading into the distance. People were talking, yelling. Then:

"Scott? You better look at this..." I turned toward Ethan's voice, forcing myself to move, step by step.

"This is the same wrapping paper we used for Coach's birthday present."

"Wasn't that William Barrow's thing? A bomb made from nails and bolts, all wrapped up in a birthday present?" I barely heard them. My ears rang.

"Where did it go off?"

"...On a school bus."

The world tilted sideways. The pieces were clicking together around me like a puzzle I hadn't asked to solve, one I hated knowing the picture to.

And somewhere behind me, the thing in Stiles' skin smiled.

-----☾-----

I stayed close to Scott. Not clinging but close enough that I could feel the steadiness of him. Like standing near a generator in a blackout.

The bus was surrounded. Students shoved, voices overlapping, panic rising. I could barely hear myself breathe.

"Out of the way! Move, move, move!"

My eyes locked on the scene unfolding. Jared. A box. His hands trembling like leaves in a storm.

"They told me not to move..."

Who did? I wanted to ask, but my throat locked up.

Then I heard him.

"He means us."

The voice slid through my ear like ice water, so soft it brushed my spine and left a sting behind.

I didn't look around. I didn't need to. I knew it was him. Or... it. The thing in Stiles' body. The one that wore his freckles like a mask.

"You're shaking, Cassie. Someone's going to notice."

I swallowed and clenched my fists at my sides. Just noise. Just my imagination.

Beside me, Kira shifted nervously, her fingers twitching like static, eyes wide. I almost asked if she heard it too. But she didn't. Of course she didn't.

"You were always good at pretending, weren't you? You fooled them so well. Even your sweet Scott believes you're okay."

I dug my nails into my palms. Hard. Sharp enough to anchor me.

Sheriff Stilinski's voice cut through the air, giving orders. Parrish stepped up, calm and collected, and I tried to breathe through the building pressure behind my eyes.

"Jared, it'll be very helpful if you could resist throwing up on the potential explosive device."

I should have laughed. It was funny. Objectively. It sounded like something real Stiles would say.

But I wasn't sure how to laugh anymore. It felt like a distant language.

"You're slipping, Cassie. Cracking right down the middle. How much longer until they see it?"

"Shut up," I muttered under my breath.

Scott glanced at me. "What?"

"Nothing." I forced a small smile. "Nothing."

Parrish's voice returned on the radio.

"It's not a bomb, sir, but there is something in the box."

The Sheriff's face went pale. "My God... There's a bomb, but not here..."

I blinked, already turning, already running behind Scott as he bolted. Kira moved beside us, fast and alert. I couldn't hear my own footsteps over the blood rushing in my ears.

And yet...

"Tsk. Too slow, Cassandra. You're always a step behind. That's why they die."

The words gutted me. I stumbled, but Scott caught my elbow, steadying me.

He looked back. Concerned. Always concerned.

"Cass? You okay?"

I nodded once. "Yeah. Yeah, keep going."

-----☾-----

Smoke and ash stung my eyes. The air was thick with it, burned metal and blood.

I could hear Derek groaning, Argent shouting, and Scott breathing like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Which, honestly, wasn't far from the truth.

"The Oni—they're coming."

Kira's voice trembled. My head throbbed in sync with every one of her syllables.

"Stiles, we gotta get you out of here."

Void Stiles looked dazed. Bloody. Small.

It was a lie. I knew it was a lie. But when his eyes met mine, something inside me shattered. Not because of fear. Not even because of pain.

Because he smiled.

So small. So subtle. So only for me.

"You should let go, Cassie. You'd feel so much better."

I blinked, dizzy, my knees buckling slightly, but I didn't fall. Scott was there again. His hand on my back, grounding. Always grounding.

"Cass," he said quietly. "Don't lose me now."

I met his eyes and nodded. And maybe for a moment, the whispers faded.

But I could still feel them. Like breath on the back of my neck. Like fingers tapping the inside of my skull.

I looked at Stiles.

And he winked.

-----☾-----

Kira leaned forward in the front seat, brows furrowed. "It's an animal clinic?"

Scott nodded, blood drying on his temple, his jaw tight. "Yeah. The place is lined with mountain ash, just like my house. It'll buy us some time."

"But they can get through it?" Void Stiles' voice was light, but not playful. Mocking. Like he already knew the answer.

Scott didn't look at him. "Eventually..."

"Nobody's got any better ideas?" he muttered, and I heard the smirk in his tone.

It stayed silent. "Okay, sure. Animal clinic." My fingers dug into my jacket sleeves. He wasn't even trying to pretend anymore.

-----☾-----

"Stiles! Get inside!" Scott's shout rang out as we stumbled toward the doors. Kira and I moved fast behind him, but my eyes kept flicking back. The swipe of a sword whisked through the air.

Scott yelled again, a wordless roar, then a flash of silver as a blade punched through his side.

"Scott!" I shrieked, instinct taking over.

He collapsed, and Stiles, it, rushed forward to catch him.

"All right, come on! Get him inside! Get him inside!"

I ran ahead, throwing the doors open, letting Kira and Stiles drag Scott in.

Scott was groaning, breath shallow, sweat glistening on his skin. I knelt by his side, trembling hands brushing the blood-soaked fabric.

"Please, don't... stop," Scott whispered.

"It's okay," Stiles murmured, crouching down beside him like a friend.

I wanted to shove him away. I wanted to scream.

"Does it hurt? Hey, look at me."

Don't look at him, Scott.

"You should've done your reading," he whispered, voice curling like smoke. "A Nogitsune feeds off chaos... strife... and pain." His hands pressed against scotts skin, Scott hissed.

"This morning you took it from Isaac. Then from Coach. Then from a dying deputy. All that pain..."

He leaned closer, voice like syrup and poison. "Now... give it to me."

Scott shuddered under his touch. I lurched forward, ready to grab him, to rip him off my friend, when he turned to me.

That smile.

That slow, wicked smile.

"And you, Cassie," he purred. "You've got so much pain tucked away in that head of yours. Your parents. Blaise leaving. That little scar no one else can see..." He tilted his head, eyes glinting. "They're going to figure it out. You'll lose them. Scott, Stiles, Kira. One by one."

"Wanna guess who's first?" My breath hitched. I couldn't breathe.

"You really have to learn," he said to Scott, but his eyes never left mine. "Never trust a Fox. They'll fool you. They'll fool everyone."

"Not everyone," came Deaton's calm voice behind him.

Before I could even process it, a sharp hiss of air, a syringe, and Stiles collapsed in a heap at Scott's side.

I didn't realize I was crying until Scott reached for my hand.

"What was that?" Scott asked

"Was that a cure? Is he okay?" I asked.

Deaton's gaze lingered on the unconscious body. "The Fox is poisoned... But it's not dead. Not yet."

Deaton rose and turned to me. "Cassandra."

I blinked. "Yeah?"

"You're not grounded. I told you you needed to stay grounded," he said quietly, like he could see straight through me.

He crossed the room and picked up a small silver bowl from the shelf, already filled with dark blue water and crushed herbs.

"This will help," he said simply, handing it to me. "Breathe it in. Just once."

I hesitated. Then did as he said.

The scent hit me like a wave, earthy, sharp, almost electric. For a second, the voices in my head quieted. Not gone. But... muffled.

I looked up at him, blinking back tears. "What was that?"

"A blend of monkshood, vervain, and mountain ash. Not enough to harm you. But enough to remind your body and mind where here is."

Scott squeezed my hand again. I felt it this time.

"Thank you," I whispered.