Summary: Scott, Derek and the others try to exorcise the demon, werewolf-style, from Stiles. Bromance, bromance, bromance, angst, hurt / comfort, drama and more bromance.

How to Starve a Demon

PenPatronus

Chapter 1 of 2

Find Me

The setting sun pierced the symbol clawed into the distillery wall. Dark-eyed, pale-skinned Derek Hale stood in the center of the spiral-shaped shadow on the floor. "Answer my questions," he growled at the man kneeling in front of him. "Help me, or I'll kill you."

The bottle in Deucalion's right hand was to blame for his bloodshot eyes. He took a swig from it and asked through a slur, "Why are you suddenly so curious about demons?"

Derek's Adam's apple bobbed. "Because there's one, here, in Beacon Hills."

Deucalion's eyes narrowed. "Do you know what type of spirit?"

"A Nogitsune." Derek watched Deucalion's face closely, his hearing fixed on the other werewolf's heartbeats. "Have you ever met one?"

Deucalion's skin turned three shades whiter. He folded his ankles under his thighs and he staggered up to his feet. For a moment his jaw hung open, and it looked like he was about to speak. But then the bottle of liquor slid out of his hands and he made a break for the door.

Derek's arm slashed down with the force of a guillotine. "Let me pass," Deucalion growled at him. "If there's a Nogitsune in this town then I'm taking the first flight to Australia."

Derek unsheathed his claws and bared his fangs. "What do you know? How do we kill this thing?"

"Kill it?" Deucalion's laugh resembled a panting dog. "You can exorcise it, maybe. But I don't know how. And you can't exorcise it until the host is dead."

Derek's arm fell back to his side. Deucalion was so surprised by the sudden slump in Derek's shoulders that he forgot he was trying to escape. "Oh," he breathed, exhaling the stench of alcohol into Derek's nose. "You know the host. Is it your sister?"

Derek's jaw resembled stone. He listened for any lies revealed by Deucalion's chest. He found none, and sighed.

Deucalion's head cocked to the side. "That beta you sired? What's his name…? Isaac? Or is it Scott? Whoever it is, Derek, you have to kill him."

"It's Stiles."

"Stiles…? Scott's little sidekick?" Deucalion snorted and rolled his eyes. "Who gives a damn about—"

Derek's hand suddenly gripped Deucalion's throat. "He's my friend. He's in my pack and I won't let him die," Derek barked. "Stiles saved Cora's life. I owe him." He dragged Deucalion out the door to his car. "Deaton has an idea. And you're going to help us."

Once Ethan and Aiden got Isaac situated in Derek's bed, Melissa and Deaton got to work redressing his wounds. "Much better," the veterinarian said when he examined the werewolf's arm. "You're healing nicely now."

"I'm just thrilled to be healing at all," Isaac said. "I can't believe Allison would—"

"It wasn't her," Melissa reminded him. She cocked her head at two figures in the center of the loft. "And that's not Stiles. It's not their fault."

Jared meant it when he said that "they" handed him that wrapped present on the bus. It wasn't just Stiles, but Allison, too. Loyal, concerned Allison who'd stayed at the hospital for two days waiting to see Isaac. Allison who, as the security tapes later revealed, had been sneaking into Isaac's room and putting mistletoe in his IV drips. Allison was also possessed by a Japanese fox spirit. Not a tricky but ultimately moral Kitsune. Not a dramatic, chaotic Nogitsune. A devious, murderous spirit, yes, but a quiet one. One that was biding its time and doing its damage under the radar. One willing to be the Nogitsune's sidekick when called upon, but who was not willing to be in the line of fire for it.

"We'll deal with Allison after we help Stiles," Deaton said. "Mr. Argent and the Sheriff have her locked down for now."

Melissa, who'd been unpacking more medical supplies, looked up with surprise. "He – he won't be here? But, Stiles—"

"I'd rather keep his father in the dark about this for now." Deaton braided his fingers together in his lap and sighed. "I'm not sure if this will work and…"

Isaac finished his thought. "You don't want him to watch his son die."

Deaton nodded. Melissa's lower lip quivered. She returned to her work to hide the tears peeking from her eyes.

On the other side of the loft, Lydia, Aiden, Kira and Ethan sat at a dirty plastic picnic table just inside the door. The two werewolves both had mouths full of pizza and Coke, but Lydia and Kira had barely touched their supper. Peter sat in a plastic chair behind them, scowling and looking bored. When Derek entered the room with Deucalion, Peter jumped to his feet.

Derek shoved Deucalion at his uncle. "Watch him," he ordered. Without so much as a glance at the others, Derek passed them towards the center of the room. He hesitated, briefly, then put his hand on Scott's shoulder. "How is he?"

The Nogitsune answered before Scott could. "He's dying," the demon spat with Stiles' mouth. "You poison me, you poison him."

Stiles lay on his back on a mattress barely three inches thick and no wider than his shoulders. He was sweating and shivering. His wrists were cuffed at his side and chained to the floor, as were his ankles. He wore the same clothes that had been soaked through by the rain the night before. Clothes that were stained with Scott's blood. His breaths were shallow and his lips were white. A bruise on his neck indicated where Deaton had injected the letharia vulpina poison. An injection that he had repeated six times in twenty-four hours. The poison kept the Nogitsune paralyzed but in agony. Stiles was in unbearable pain and his fever hovered dangerously close to deadly.

"When I get my strength back," the Nogitsune whispered, "I will feast on your pain, Hale."

Scott ignored the demon. "My mom's going to set up an IV drip," he told Derek. "I can't get him to eat. I doubt he's put any food or water into Stiles' body for days."

"Maybe you should do what Stiles' mom did when he was a kid and act like the spoon is an airplane." The cackle that erupted from the demon's throat was so un-Stiles that it made both Derek and Scott shiver. "Open up for the airplane, sweetie," he said in a mockery of Claudia's long lost voice.

Derek walked around to the other side of Stiles' body and sat down, Indian-style. "How are you feeling?"

Scott absently rubbed his chest where the Oni's sword skewered him. "Good. Well… better. All this is just…" Scott gestured at Isaac and Stiles and then rubbed his eyes with the palms of his fingers. His chin vibrated.

"Too much. Yeah, I know," Derek said softly. He plucked up a washcloth that Scott had left on Stiles' chest and used it to wipe the sweat off of the teen's forehead, cheeks, and neck.

"I keep thinking about how we never watched Star Wars together." Scott pinched the corner of Stiles' sleeve between his thumb and forefinger. "I promised him we would but we just never got around to it. It's stupid but… I just keep thinking about how I broke a promise to him."

"You ruined his life," the Nogitsune hissed at Scott. "Right now I hear him cursing you. He wishes he'd never met you."

Scott's nostrils flared. It took a lot of his strength to avoid the demon's eyes, and that effort was wearing him out.

Stiles' face rotated to look at Derek. "And you. It's your fault that the Alpha Pack came here, your fault that the Darach targeted Stiles' dad. If Stiles never had to die to find the Nemeton, the door wouldn't have opened in his mind and none of this would have happened." The Nogitsune's head cocked slightly to the side as if curious. "I should get you a thank you gift, Derek," he whispered. "Maybe a nice fruit basket."

"Shut up," Derek snapped at him.

Grinning, the demon returned his attention to Scott. "No matter what happens, you're going to lose him."

Scott looked into the beast wearing his best friend's face. His eyes were mesmerizing.

"Even if, by some unthinkable miracle, you manage to exorcise me, Stiles' brain is disintegrating. Why do you think I chose him, huh? Because he's already dying."

Scott's hands shook. He made no move to still them.

"By this time next week he'll be brain dead. And when he's completely dead," the Nogitsune's face contorted with pleasure, "I won't just be possessing this body. It will be mine."

"Shut up!" Derek repeated.

The Nogitsune lifted his head off of the mattress as far as he could. His eyes were wide, fierce, blazing. "And I know what you're thinking, Scott. You're thinking the bite will save him. You'll turn him into a werewolf and everything will be cured, right?"

"I'm not an idiot. I know it's not foolproof," Scott whispered. He leaned in until his face was only six inches from the demon's. "Erica still had a seizure after she turned. Isaac and I have had panic attacks. Gerard still has traces of cancer. But it will work on Stiles – I'll make sure of it."

The demon laughed so loud that it drew everyone's attention. Melissa and Deaton emerged from the bed cubbyhole and Lydia tiptoed over to stand behind Scott. "You can be sure of this, Scott: Stiles' body isn't compatible with the bite. I'm in it. I can tell. If you bite him he'll die. He'll die screaming—" he twisted to look Derek in the eye— "screaming like Paige!"

Derek's eyes glowed blue. He reared back to punch the demon in the face and only stopped when he remembered his friend was in there. A deep grunt, pursed lips, and Derek got up and marched a few feet away. The Nogitsune relaxed back against the mattress. His smile was what Stiles would wear if he was getting a back rub.

Scott put his face in his hands. He stayed like that until the Nogitsune whispered, "Would you like to say goodbye?"

Fingers spread, Scott peeked out. "What?"

"I want to consume your pain, Scott. The more you have, the stronger I'll be. And I'm betting that speaking to the real Stiles now – right now, when you're about to attempt some crazy Druid ritual that will get him killed – that would cause you the most pain of all." Scott's expression was pure confliction. Nothing entertained the Nogitsune more. "I'll give you sixty seconds with him," he said.

"Wait—" Scott croaked. He didn't know what to say, what to do. He at least wanted a moment to compose himself, to wipe the tears off of his cheek. If this truly was going to be the last time he talked to Stiles he wanted to make the most of it.

The Nogitsune winked and then went limp, like he'd fallen asleep.

Stiles licked his lips. Lashes fluttered. Brown eyes blinked, then focused. Water slid from the corner of Stiles' eye to his earlobe. "Scott?"

Scott's hands went to Stiles – one palm cushioning the back of his neck, the other cupping his cheek. "Stiles? Is that you?" For a moment, Scott thought that Stiles was starting to have a seizure. Then he realized that it was just his own hands shaking so hard that they shook Stiles.

Stiles pressed his cheek hard against Scott's palm. Chained down, it was the only way he could hug. He started to speak, then shook his head and swallowed the moisture in his throat. "Derek," he said, just loud enough for werewolf hearing, "Derek?"

Lightning-fast, hummingbird-fast, cheetah-fast. That's how fast Derek ran to Stiles' side. He knelt beside the teen and wrapped both of his large, calloused hands around his cold one. "I'm here," he said, breathless.

Stiles stared at his friends, memorizing their faces. "I'm sorry," he hiccupped. "I'm so sorry. Tell my dad I'm sorry and I love him and…" Stiles winced. "T-Tell him it was quick and I didn't feel any pain, all right? Promise me."

Scott tried to speak but only a wet sob came out. Stiles looked at Derek for confirmation. The werewolf could only nod. A faraway look evened out Stiles' features. He squinted, confused. Stiles' hand in Derek's went limp. The full weight of his head relaxed under Scott's hands. "Stiles," Scott finally gasped, "I love you, man. So much."

"Scott, come find me," Stiles whispered. His eyes rolled back into his skull. "Come find me." He passed out with Scott's cheek against his heart.

They circled around Stiles at Midnight. Even Isaac, who shouldn't have been out of bed, let alone participating. Even Kira, who wasn't sure if foxes could do what werewolves could. The humans lined up between Stiles and the loft window. Deaton stood with his arms crossed between Melissa and Lydia, and started to give instructions.

"I don't know if anyone has ever attempted this," he began. "I don't know if it will work and I don't know if it will permanently harm you."

Peter started to step away from Stiles' body. Derek grabbed him by the collar and put him back.

"We don't know much about the Nogitsune," Deaton continued. "But we do know what its diet is: chaos, strife, and pain. The theory is that to defeat the spirit we have to starve it. You're all going to draw the pain out of Stiles. The pain he took from Scott, the pain in Stiles, all of it."

Ethan and Aiden exchanged looks. Deucalion, who stood at Stiles' feet, spoke up. "You lot know that it's possible to go too far with that, don't you? Scott and I could lose our Alpha abilities. The betas and omegas could, well, die."

"We know," said Derek.

Everyone looked at Scott, who stared at the ground for a minute before speaking. "I'm not asking anyone to die for this," he said. "Just, please… Do what you can."

Kira cleared her throat and spoke up for the first time. "Isn't it, um, just physical pain that shape shifters can help with? Won't the Nogitsune still be able to feed on, I don't know… emotional pain? Mental chaos? Spiritual strife?"

Eyes shifted again – this time to Deaton. "Maybe," he said quietly. "Probably. But this is the only plan we have. Unless anybody else has a better idea?"

"Do you hear anything, Lydia?" Aiden asked.

Lydia shifted her weight beside Deaton. She bit down on her plump red lip and shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said to Scott. "Sometimes I think I hear Stiles' voice but it's – it's like it's disguised as wind or something."

"Just keep listening to it," Deaton encouraged her. "Let us know right away if you sense anything."

Lydia nodded.

Deaton clapped his hands together. "All right. Let's try this. Everyone ready?"

Eight heads shook "no" but they all knelt in a tight circle around Stiles anyway. Scott placed his fingers on Stiles' right cheek. Derek did the same on Stiles' left. Kira and Peter each took an arm, Isaac and Ethan a few square inches of stomach and Aiden and Deucalion both grasped Stiles' knees. "Thank you," Scott suddenly said, his voice heavy with emotion. "All of you, thank you."

Tenderly, Scott stroked Stiles' cheek with his thumb. And then he took a deep breath and led the way:

Inky black tendrils of pain marched out of Stiles' veins and up Scott's arm.

To Be Continued