Wildfire [S.Stilinski | 2 ]

Echo

Chapter eighteen

Echo

❀ꕥ

Stiles watched as the raindrops slid down the window as his father's car passed another dark street.

There was a heavy silence surrounding them as neither of them knew what to say, so both of them just kept quiet until Noah's Toyota stopped in front of the mental facility.

Eichen House.

The father and son exchanged glances; one of worry and the other one full of regret, before they stepped out of the vehicle.

Stiles looked up at the tall, grey building hiding behind the metal fence and then turned his head towards the approaching motorcycle that stopped in front of them.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Scott took off his helmet, rushing towards his best friend, his eyes desperate for an explanation.

Noah sighed. "Because we wanted to avoid something like this."

Stiles shrugged. "It's only for seventy-two hours."

The young werewolf pointed towards the building. "This is the same place where Barrow came from. The guy who had a tumor inside him filled with flies." He urged, hoping that he would convince them to turn around and go home. "You don't know everything yet."

"I know enough." Noah snapped. "Nogitsunes, kitsunes, oni, or whatever they're called."

Stiles blinked in surprise and smirked at his father. "That was surprisingly correct."

Noah ignored his son and continued to talk. "Scott, I saw an MRI that looked exactly like my wife's, and it terrifies me." He finished with a quieter tone, the picture of his dying wife still haunting his life. "I'm headed down to L. A. tomorrow to talk to a specialist."

Scott opened in mouth and then closed it again. "Then why are you putting him in here?" He pleaded.

"He's not," Stiles answered firmly. "It was my decision."

Scott's eyes softened. "Stiles, I can't help you if you're in here."

Stiles sharply sucked in a breath as his shoulder slumped down a little. "And I can't hurt you..." He looked down to his feet. "...or anyone else."

Scott knew who he was talking about. "Does Flora know? If not, she deserves to know."

Scott noticed as Stiles clenched his fist and narrowed his eyes. "Deaton's got some ideas and Argent is calling people." The shaggy-haired boy continued, his eyes not moving away from the boy in front of him. "We're going to finds something."

Stiles took a step closer towards his best friend. "And if you can't, then you have to do something for me, okay?" He moved his head closer, almost as if he wanted to whisper the sentence. "Make sure I never get out." He then took a step back and looked at his father, nodding towards the gate, showing that he was ready to go inside.