Stiles was human. It was a fact he was reminded of more frequently than he liked. He was human, fragile and breakable. When his bones broke, they didn't heal within an hour. When he got a bruise, it didn't heal within minutes. He healed in days, weeks and months. His friends healed in seconds, minutes and hours. He was fragile. Hits that wouldn't bother his Supernatural friends, bothered him with bruises that would last days, sometimes weeks. He was pale, skinny, lanky, breakable and human. You could say he put on some muscle since the whole 'my best friend turned into a werewolf' thing but ultimately, it was all useless. If he had gained some muscles since the whole thing started, he hadn't gained enough. Because the creatures him and his pack went up against were far stronger than any human. Stronger and faster that sometimes even his friends struggled to keep up with them. Which meant that Stiles stood absolutely no chance against them with his human body and muscles that barely existed.

So when Stiles was injured, he stayed injured. He stayed injured for days, weeks. Sometimes even longer than a month. His broken rips took time to heal. His friends' took minutes, hours at best. When Stiles was hurt, he stayed hurt. He felt the remnants of the battle weeks after, the lack of sleep and constant stress burning him down to his already frayed nerves. No amount of Adderal could help him. He stayed wounded, long after the battles were over.

So, when the Nogitsune straight up tortured him, he knew that the wounds inflicted on him were going to take a hell of a time to heal. That they were going to leave deep, painful scars. Reminders. As if his brain didn't remind him of what he went through daily enough, his body would keep the scars and make it a constant reminder of what he had gone through. And whiles Stiles sometimes liked that - battle scars were sometimes cool, to be honest - it turned out to be more painful than it ever did cool. Yeah, he definitely had a scar or seven he was very proud of, sometimes even flaunting it because he was human and he survived that and you're not shit compared to what he's seen and done, he knew that the scars he was undoubtingly going to gain today were going to be a constant bad reminder of everything that had happened. Everyone hurt sometimes, but this was so different, so much more painful, so much more raw.

Fuck the Wolfe's supernatural ability to heal and their high pain tolerance.

Fucking werewolves.

Stiles was cold. It was soothing in the way, like putting ice on an injury and numbing it out but it somehow also hurt more. It was like the whip lashes were blistering from the cold stone and wasn't that just great? Wait- Stone. Stiles slowly looked up from his place on the floor. He was looking at the ceiling beforehand and his eyes now drifted to the area around him. Everything was dirty.

Was it possible to feel germs infecting a wound? Because Stiles fucking swears that's what was happening here. He could feel these very fresh, very raw lashes being infected. It was disgusting. He shuddered again, another shiver running across his spine.

Fucking fox.

Ugh. It was so cold but it was so refreshing at the same time and just ugh. Stiles tried not to think about the very real possibility of getting Hyperthermia and dying here. At the very least, the Nogitsune had somewhat done what it said it would do - it had patched him up a bit. Keyword being a bit. The fox had instead decided that medicinal and chemical torture would be more fun because why the fuck not?

After it's little shit show with the disinfectant, it had pulled out a little bottle of acid because why the fuck not? It had put little drops of acid into his wounds - just to screw with him, of course - and wow, that still hurt and burnt but the floor was soothing in its coldness. But also painful. It was a truly a tomfuckery of which Stiles hated.

But most of all, Stiles hated that fucking fox. For everything it had done and not just to him, today. For Allison and Aiden. For what it had done to Scott. His mind involuntarily went back to that dreadful moment, the one where he had twisted the sword inside of Scott's chest, the feeling of power he had felt, the absolute glee. The look on Scott's face when he realised it wasn't him and he was going to hurt him, the look on his face as he did hurt him.

But what probably hurt the most was Scott's willingness to still trust him after all of that. Of the care and worry he had shown him. Of his usual coddling and constant check-ups. The persistence to make sure that Stiles - freaking Stiles of all people - was okay and rested. The lack of malice, hatred or mistrust. Once the Oni had confirmed it was really him again, Scott just-... Just accepted him back like he hadn't done all of those terrible things. Hadn't had a go at him, looked angry or hurt, hadn't been unwilling to trust or be near him. Just happy and relieved and trustful as though it hadn't been Stiles' hands to carry out the fox's terrifying will.

Ever trustful, bleeding-heart Scott that literally wore his heart for everyone to see. For everyone to break and manipulate. Somehow, that was the most painful of this all. His blind trust in him. His willingness to trust anyone and everyone, even after all they've done, even when he knew who they were and what they've done. His willingness to hand out second chances more than once, more than twice, more than ten times. Bleeding heart fucking Scott, who let himself be hurt just to save his friends, just to make them feel okay.

If Stiles ever got out of this, he was going to make sure to protect that idiot. People would manipulate him to hell and back for his golden heart and Stiles just couldn't allow that. Even if he died here, from the torture the damn fox inflicted upon him, he would find a way to come back as a frickin ghost or spirit or something and he would beat the hell out of anyone who dared to use Scott's heart against him or tried to hurt him in general. He would protect Scott, no matter what. And if that meant dying here in a vain attempt to take out the fox, then so fucking be it.

Scott was 0.02 seconds from throwing himself out the window and searching for Stiles by himself. His pack, however, had other plans. Or rather, Lydia had better plans. So did Chris. And Deaton. Derek didn't seem to care much, at least that Scott could tell - he could never read the guy, even when he could hear his heartbeat. Did Derek even have any emotions? The guy was as cold as a brick.

The so-called plans mostly consisted of 'not aimlessly running around and actually thinking about what they were doing' which Scott disagreed with because staying at home and thinking was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. Scott had a plan too; find the Nogitsune, tear it away from its new host and shove it in a box and lock it away for the next 1000 years. That seemed like a decent plan to him.

But not to everyone else, of course. He was being 'too rash' or 'impulsive'. Just like he was being 'over-protective' and 'too worried' when he said he'd pick up Stiles himself. Look at how that went. Scott decides his plans are good. They are better than everyone else's plans because if he had followed through with his plans before, this whole situation wouldn't have happened!

And you know what? He's the Alpha so he's the leader. He can do what he wants and what he wants is to find and save Stiles, his brother.

Lydia's hand captures his wrist just as he reaches for the door. "Scott," she demands calmly, looking at him with the 'look' that was borderline disappointment and 'Are you serious? What the fuck are you doing?' It was a common look for her.

"Let me go, Lydia," Scott's voice was calm. He knew Lydia was just trying to help but Scott was going stir-crazy by staying in the house. He needed to be out there, he needed to be active, even if it was all in vain. He needed to move, to get rid of the excess energy.

"You know we all want to help Stiles. But we can't do that without a proper plan. The Nogitsune is smart and strong, we can't be reckless with this," Lydia explained and the way she spoke told Scott that she was running low on patience. Whether that was because of him or because of the situation, he really wasn't sure.

"I can't stay here, Lydia. I'll go crazy," Scott responded simply because honestly, that's all it was. All of his thoughts summed down to exactly that. If he stayed here to make a better plan, then he would go crazy. Stiles had suffered enough under his possession and now he was kidnapped by the same creature. It was a nightmare and Scott just wanted to wake up. It was painful to watch, to even know. He could take pain. He could take it all. But he could not sit by and watch his brother - his human brother who did not have super healing and high pain tolerance or enhanced abilities - get hurt repeatedly because they accidentally released a dickhead who was over 1000 years old and oddly proud of that fact. Probably because it meant he had tons of experience and no one had been able to kill him thus far and such.

Regardless, the possession had done more than enough to Stiles. He was weak and constantly in pain, with far too vivid memories of what his body had done. The fox had been feeding off of him and pushing his body past limits that should never be broken; e.g not eating, not sleeping, not taking care of itself in general and Stiles was the one to take the full brunt of it and gosh, Scott really wanted to throw the Nogitsune through a wall for what its done.

For taking Allison away from him. For taking her life far too soon. For taking Aiden's life. Aiden, who was just trying to redeem himself for what he's done. Allison, who just wanted to help and protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

The fox, who was just hungry and wanted people to suffer for its own amusement. Scott wasn't one to hate, but boy was the Nogitsune something worth disliking or maybe, just maybe, even hating. Scott wasn't even sure if he could bring himself to hate anything or anyone. But, the Nogitsune really did like to test boundaries.

Scott gave a long-suffering sigh, rubbing his temples and walking back into the room. Okay. He could do this. He could stragise. A plan. He could do that.

With a solid plan, they could reduce the number of deaths wherever possible and put a stop to this quicker. Yes, Scott liked that thought. If only that thought itself could be a solid plan, that'd be great. But, as it stands, it's not.

So, he heads back to the table with Lydia by his side, Deaton watching him patiently, Derek looking like he either wants to be anywhere but here or rip his own throat out and Peter looking like he's bored out of his mind. Malia is waiting impatiently, growling and tapping her feet and for a brief moment, Scott worries she's going to kill someone. Her claws are out but other than her usual aggressive posture, she shows no signs of attacking. Good.

"So," Lydia starts, hands on her hips as she directs her gaze to everyone at the table, "how about a plan?"

Apparently, Nogitsunes can get bored.

It's an odd fact to know. He shoves it right into a file in his brain that will promptly be lit ablaze after this whole fiasco. Potentially useful for now but will be immediately forgotten after this hellhole.

If he survives, that is.

The fucker is feeding off him again and Stiles half-heartedly swats at the fox likes he's a fly. Unsurprisingly, his swat does absolutely nothing. He's too weak to really try.

Stiles' mind goes hazy. Not because of the impromptu torture he's endured or the blood loss, but because of the fox feeding off of him. It's unusual. It's like he's blacking out while still completely awake. Like someone is holding up a screen and blocking him from seeing anything but he still knows exactly what's going on through the screen. He can't quite feel his pain anymore. Well, no, that's not accurate. He can, he can feel it so vividly that it makes him want to scream but at the same time, it's like the pain itself is muted.

It's an odd feeling, to say the least.

His mind is a numb haze and if it isn't the most disorientating thing ever, then Stiles doesn't know what is.

"Ah...Always feels so good to feed," He can hear the Nogitsune muttering to itself. Something in Stiles snaps and the anger forces the fog out of his mind.

"It'll feel even better when I shove fox poison uP YOUR ASS!" Stiles yelled weakly, too exhausted to come up with a better response. Stiles glares at the ceiling, tears blurring his vision. When did he start crying? He tries to force the tears down. He's afraid and that's okay but he will not let this fear consume him. The Nogitsune laughs at him, obviously not concerned about his threat in the slightest. Honestly, Stiles wouldn't take him seriously either, not in this state.

But that's always the thing - they always underestimate the wrong ones.

Stiles looks up at the ceiling and forces his mind to work. The door slams shut, leaving him alone. He doesn't have a lot of options - hell, he barely has any. So, he'll just have to make some new ones with what he has. Stiles does what he does best - he schemes.