Hey there, and thanks for checking out this story! I'll only take up a moment of your time for a quick AN, and then it's on to the chapter.

This is the story I mentioned during 'bloodstream' (my other multi-chapter TW fic), which I've been working on for about a month. I'm actually quite happy with the way it turned out, which is weird for me, but I hope I did actually produce something worth reading.

Some things before you start: this is set somewhere during 3B, early on, before everyone found out about the nogitsune (and before anyone died). It's assumed that Deaton is a druid, Lydia doesn't know about Kira being a kitsune, and nobody knows Stiles is possessed.

And some warnings: I like things very dark. This story involves character deaths, moral ambiguity, violence, and pretty much anything else you can think of. So be aware of that before you start to read. Also be aware that the ending isn't clean-cut, so if you're looking for a story where everything gets resolved in a neat little bundle at the end, turn away now - or at the very least don't complain when you get to the last chapter.

I've pre-written this, so it's all but two chapters done (and there will be just over 40 chapters). This means that I can basically update as frequently as necessary. So if you like what you're seeing, leave me a review; how many reviews I get will influence how quickly I update, so support me and I'll reward you with quick updates.

Oh, and if you're interested, pairings include: Stiles/Lydia, Allison/Isaac, Scott/Kira, hints of Allison/Scott, and also one of my other favorite couples which I won't mention just yet. Most characters will be involved at some point: the main guys, as well as the parents, Deaton, even Derek and Peter and the twins to some extent.

That about sums it up, and I'm sorry it took so long. ANs will be much shorter in the future, I promise. So here's the prologue, and I hope you enjoy!

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Now.

Werewolf hearing aside, the night is unusually loud. Scott's particularly acute hearing can pick up sounds most people would miss – a dog barking on the other side of town, a night bird landing in a nearby tree, shoes scuffing on the other side of the road – but it doesn't take much to block them out, given the chaos that surrounds him. There must be some kind of street party up the road, which is exactly what Scott doesn't need right now.

Light spills out onto the pavement from the house on the corner, illuminating the scene in front of it. A group of teens dressed in all black are standing beneath the window, sharing cigarettes and bottles of something that looks like rum; a couple is leaning against the fence, totally oblivious to everything around them as they engage in something that from afar looks almost aggressive, but closer inspection suggests that it's simply lust with a dash of intoxication; a drunken girl with a lipstick smear on her cheek even waves to Scott as he approaches, but he ducks his head and crosses to the other side of the street.

Music is pumping from the inside of the house, pounding against Scott's brain and somehow causing his thoughts to reverberate against his skull. For almost half an hour he'd managed not to think about everything that's going on. He's just finished up a late-night shift at the animal clinic, which had involved a dog with broken glass in its paw, a cat that swallowed the handle of a plastic comb, and a puppy that needed its shots, but was deathly terrified of strangers – it was exactly the distraction Scott needed.

But now he's on his way home, and there's nothing else to occupy his thoughts. He'd had a quick chat to Deaton after his shift, but the doc didn't have any new information. It was all things Scott already knew: the nogitsune is a trickster, the only way to defeat it is to change the body of the host, and there's no sign of either Stiles or Lydia. They haven't heard from either of them in almost a week, and that's incredibly unsettling. It means the nogitsune is planning something, some new way to manipulate them into doing what it wants. Or maybe even a way to end the game for good.

That's all it is, Scott thinks bitterly as he kicks a rock along the sidewalk. This is all the nogitsune's game, and they have no chance of winning when they don't even understand the rules. And even if they did, the nogitsune would just change them anyway. It's why they're always ten steps behind at best, always struggling to keep up.

As he turns the corner, Scott becomes aware of a noise from behind him. The rock tumbles to a stop but he keeps walking, not wanting to alert whoever is following him. It sounds like someone is a few steps behind, their footsteps faltering. Alarm pounds in his chest and he starts to walk faster, but then a hand grabs his arm and spins him around.

He's face to face with the girl from the party, her smile slightly lopsided and a wild look in her eyes.

"Hey there, handsome," she slurs, her hand still resting on his arm. Scott tries to draw away but her fingers curl around his arm and then drift up to his biceps, her smile growing wider by the second. "D'you work out?"

"Y-yeah," Scott says, trying to sound aloof but realizing he comes across as nervous. Which is understandable, given that he can still remember a time when girls this pretty would never give him a second look, let alone come up and talk to him. Before he'd been bitten, everything had been different.

And everything's been different since Stiles was possessed.

"I saw you back there," the girl goes on, her hand now on his shoulder, partly in an attempt to be flirtatious and partly, he suspects, in order to help her stay on her feet. "What's your name, cutie?"

"Scott," he chokes out, now sure he wants to be away from this situation. He doesn't have time for things like this, not with Stiles and Lydia both gone and the rest of the pack counting on him to find them. And even if he did have the time, he doesn't have any interest. He has Kira, after all, and he doesn't need anyone else.

"My name's Trixie," she says, her voice low and seductive. She leans in closer, her lips brushing against Scott's.

"Stop," he says suddenly, pushing her away. She stumbles a couple of steps and then looks up at him, brushing a strand of honey-blonde hair out of her eyes. "I have a girlfriend. This isn't right."

Trixie's smile had slipped for a second, but now it's back. "I don't see her anywhere. What she doesn't know can't hurt her."

"No," Scott says more firmly, holding up his hand as she takes a step forward. She stops, giving him a puzzled look.

"What is it?" she asks.

"I just told you. I'm flattered, but I'm not interested."

To Scott's immense relief, Trixie doesn't push the matter. She pulls a flask out of the pocket of her leather jacket, takes a swig, and then holds it out to him. He shakes his head and Trixie shrugs. "Suit yourself," she says, tucking it back into her pocket. "You know where to find me if you change your mind."

She turns unsteadily and half-saunters, half-staggers off. She's in a pretty bad shape, so Scott doubles back and watches her go back to the party. He waits until she reaches that patch of light and is welcomed by the black-clad group out the front, and then he turns away. She's in good hands. If only every problem was as easy to solve.

Gradually silence settles over him as he keeps walking, hands in pockets and head in the clouds. He can't stop thinking about the past couple of months, everything that's happened since they found out Stiles is possessed. It all still feels like some bad dream, and every morning Scott wakes up expecting to have some kind of message from Stiles: a suitably sarcastic text or even a missed call. But there's radio silence, and some part of him knows that it's because Stiles is gone. Really gone.

A buzzing interrupts his thoughts, and he checks his phone to see a new message from Allison. No news yet. Will keep looking. They've been searching for Stiles and Lydia for a week now, and even Mr Argent and Mr Stilinski have joined in the search, but they seem to have just vanished. They've been through things like this before, dealing with the kanima and the darach and everything else that's come barrelling into Beacon Hills, but this time it's even worse.

And Scott knows exactly why. Whenever anything has gone wrong, no matter how bad things got with alpha packs and dark druids and werecoyotes, he was never alone. Stiles always had his back, and it's not until he's gone that Scott becomes truly aware of how much that support meant to him. How is he supposed to save the day without his best friend by his side?

He has the pack, of course. Allison's on his side, and so is Isaac; even Aiden and Ethan seem genuine in their desire to help, and Derek's probably going to volunteer as well. He's got his pack, and he's got his girlfriend, but it's not the same as having his best friend.

When Scott is two blocks away from home, there's another noise from behind him. Cautious footsteps, shallow breathing. He turns, knowing instinctively that it's not Trixie –

- and finds himself flat on the ground. Pain explodes across his face and he bites back a groan, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Someone is standing over him, holding what looks like a baseball bat, but his eyes are watering so much that he can't see who it is. If he hadn't been a werewolf that blow might have even been enough to kill him. As it is, it just hurts like hell.

He tries to stand up, but the person pushes him back, her stiletto pressing warningly against his ribcage. And just like that, he knows who it is.

"I wouldn't try to stand, if I were you," she says calmly, the bat dangling limply by her side. When he makes no move to fight, she removes her foot from his chest and places it down delicately by his head. He stares at the glittery straps, the impossibly high heel, and he wonders how the hell they got here.

"Why are you doing this?" he manages to ask as the pain starts to fade. He's going to have a bruise there, but nothing feels broken.

She just quirks up an eyebrow, her smile enough of an answer. "And by the way," she says as she raises the bat, preparing to deliver the final blow, "I'm not possessed."

Those are the last words he hears before the bat slams into his face again, and Lydia's is the last face he sees before he slips into unconsciousness.

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Cliffhangers are going to be incredibly frequent in this story, which is just another reason to review. So let me know what you think, and I hope to see you (soon) for the next chapter!