I think we need to talk
Stiles POV
Stiles sat alone in the interrogation trying to fight the rising panic building in his chest as he was consumed in silence.
He desperately tried to control his breathing, to listen to the part of his brain that spoke for rationality but the silence disillusioned him to the truth. It made him delirious to the point he couldn't even distinguish reality from the spiralling's of his mind.
The reality was that his uncle Phil, Clint, and quite possibly director Fury were barely 8 feet away in the room on the other side.
But his mind twisted that reality. In his mind, they were separated by an infinity of impenetrable stone, sundered for eternity.
He kept his gaze fixed on the mirror, desperately trying to remind himself that his uncle was just on the other side. But he was too far gone.
Rapid breaths tore through his throat, filling his lungs but never satisfying his need for air, instead taking a detour, clawing at his heart and throat. Suffocating him.
The silence was closing in, sending him spiralling in a rapid tornado of confusion and despair.
Black spots clouded around him, obstructing his vision and inducing a nauseating dizziness. If he didn't get air soon he would pass out, he had to breathe, but in his panicked state that was a lot easier said than done.
Void POV
A dense pressure was rapidly closing in on Void, barricading him within the confines of his host's frantic mind.
He hadn't thought Stiles' affliction with silence was of such severity that he was rendered unable to distinguish between reality and the falsehoods created by the fragile state of his mind. So serious even the fact his uncle and Clint were merely on the other side of the mirror was of no consolation, overshadowed by the pure unadulterated fear of being left alone in the silence.
A fear fueled by his experience with the negative energy of the Nogitsune.
A fear he caused.
But now was not the time to wallow in guilt, now was about helping Stiles and preventing the pending disaster that could occur if he stayed dormant any longer.
Now that his host was aware of the power he now possessed, he was far more capable of unintentionally tapping into it and losing control. The action was subconscious and purely instinctual, Void needed to calm Stiles down, and he needed to calm him down quickly, otherwise, he may very well destroy the entire facility.
Void concentrated, he knew he wouldn't be able to get through to Stiles by simply talking, he'd learnt that the first time. He focused his power, feeling it well up in his core and seep into his throat, lacing his voice with the power of centuries.
STILES!
The voice was the embodiment of his years spent roaming the realms, the core of his wisdom, and it echoed through Stiles with the strength of his lifetime. The strength of a thousand years, and its raw power cut through the self-reinforcing walls of Stiles' mind like a knife through butter.
Stiles POV
As the heavy waves of panic rolled over his mind, crashing over his thoughts like a tsunami, a powerful voice penetrated through the depths of his conscience, bouncing off the walls of his skull. Like the glow of a lighthouse, piercing through even the strongest of storms.
STILES!
The words broke through the rapidly building barriers encasing his mind, shattering the walls like ice. The fallen shards were soon followed by a second tugging sensation on his heart, but this time in the opposite direction, pulling him away from the fog rather than into it.
His breath slowed, even if only by a fraction, and he gathered his remaining strength, forming a broken reply.
V-void?
You need to breathe, if you don't calm down you will lose control!
Take deep breaths ok,
in
and out
Stiles tried, he focused everything he had on complying, exhausting his mind on listening to the strength of Void's voice.
Focus Stiles, find an anchor and pull yourself back to reality
If he were capable Stiles would have scoffed, what could he have for an anchor when he'd lost everything?
All he had was an abusive 'father', and a manipulative 'best friend' who treated him like shit.
The negativity those thoughts brought almost sent him spiralling further, but suddenly as if it had been restrained, a blurred image emerged from the foggy depths of his mind.
He clenched his fists, veering his focus from Void to the image and what he saw confused him to an extent no cold case ever could.
What he saw were a pair of eyes in a shade of grey he'd never seen before, not like the ashen colour of walls or clothes, but the shade of a storm. Unrestrained.
Bearing the strength and mystery of thunder, and the vibrance of lightning.
They were beautiful.
He took a deep breath, drawing air into his starved lungs before slowly releasing the oxygen back out through his nose. Never straying his focus from the alluring irises projected in his mind's eye, pulling him towards the light.
How a woman he'd only met once in his life could have already become his anchor, he had no idea. But now possibly wasn't the best time to be questioning it, you know, given the potentially fatal build-up of powers slipping further from his control by the second.
He forced his thoughts from the incoming tirade of questions and forced himself to keep fighting the onslaught of panic that threatened to overcome him at any second.
Again he drew breath and again he was drawn further from the clutches of unbridled panic, and deeper into the embrace of reality.
That's it Stiles keep going.
Reign in your control.
Drawing another shaky breath Stiles clenched his fists and opened his eyes
Phil POV
The second Clint left the room to speak to Stiles again, Phil turned and returned his attention to the director "Thank you for giving him a chance, you won't regret it si-"
Suddenly there was a great tremble in the ground, one akin to the aftermath of an explosion, that carried such strength and abruptity the two were knocked off their feet.
"You sure about that?!" Fury grunted, using a chair to haul his body to an upright position, his searching gaze locking onto the mirror, a look of fear and uncertainty flashing in his eyes. "Cuz I sure as hell don't recall you ever mentioning this little detail about your nephew!"
Frowning Phil struggled to his feet, confusion curling in his veins as he staggered over to stand beside Fury, the safety of his nephew his foremost concern.
He peered through the mirror, squinting at the harsh flickering of light assaulting his pupils as his eyes struggled to gain clarity. After what seemed like an eternity his vision adjusted, and he was finally able to see inside the interrogation room, his heart constricting violently in his chest at the sight that befell him.
Stiles kneeled in the furthermost corner of the room, hunched over and clutching his head in his hands, reefing at his hair as a dark, smoke-like, aura seemed to encase him in an almost protective manner, shielding him from the mayhem that surrounded him.
Clint burst into the room "I can't get back in!" he yelled
"Kick the door down!" Fury ordered
"I've tried!"
"Well try harder!" Fury growled "If we don't get him under control this whole facility will collapse on top of us"
"Oh god why didn't I ever listen when Nat told me 'You are what you eat' I ate pancakes this morning" Clint moaned dramatically
Fury glared "Get it together man!"
"Clint c'mon, if we don't get in there Stiles will cause the death of himself and most likely half the agents in this facility, what can we do?"
Clint shook himself from his panic, the words knocking some sense back into him. He looked up to meet Phil's stern gaze, underlined with concern for his nephew and his jaw set in determination "Look I've given it my best shot, but It's like there's some invisible force on the other side preventing me from getting past. If we've got any chance of getting in we're gonna need to work together"
Phil's expression was grim as he sent the agent a nod "Let's go"
The three of them stumbled out into the corridor and lined up outside the interrogation room ready to break the door down "On my count!" Fury called,
"1"
"2"
"3!" the door flew off its hinges, and the three of them filed inside, their jaws dropping at the scene before them.
Chaos. That was the only word in which the happenings within the room could be described.
Broken lights littered the floor, chairs were embedded into the walls, and the table appeared to have been thrown through the mirror in the time it had taken them to break the door down.
Clint whistled "Good thing we relocated when we did, am I right?"
The Archer's attempt at humour however was lost on Fury's glare and Phil's frantic attempts at getting through the bubble of dark energy surrounding his nephew.
Try as he might, Phil couldn't seem to get closer than 2 metres, a fact which only served to escalate his already astronomical stress levels "STILES!" he called
"STILES CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"
Right at that moment a blood-curdling scream tore its way from his nephew's throat and blood ran down his face from where his nails had pierced the sensitive flesh.
It was like a switch went off in Phil's head, all thoughts of caution abruptly shoved from his mind at the sight of blood on his nephew.
Suddenly he no longer cared about the tornado of dark energy surrounding Stiles, nor the agonising pain coursing through his body like shards of glass flowing through his bloodstream whenever he made contact with the unknown substance.
The only thing that mattered was his nephew and getting him to safety before he hurt himself.
He pushed through the swirling mass of darkness, adrenaline shielding him from the pain of electricity that threatened to fry him upon contact so all he felt was a dull tingling sensation dancing across his skin.
Phil threw himself forward and latched onto his nephew's wrists and pulling them away from his temples, replaced them with his own, gently tilting the boy's head towards him.
"Stiles" he called in a soft tone though still loud enough in his delivery to echo across the room through to the other two pairs of ears currently watching them whilst trying to protect themselves from the flying debris.
"Stiles if you can hear me I need you to come back to me" "this room is tearing itself apart and quite soon will destroy everyone in it if you don't fight back"
"I know that you are not to blame for this Bambi, but I also know that were you in my position right now you would want to do everything in your power to protect the people in this facility. You're a fighter, Stiles, always have been, there is nothing you can't overcome"
With trepidation, Phil reached forward and grasped Stiles trembling hands in his own, slowly bringing them up to his eye level, holding them before the empty black orbs like an offering to the Gods.
Carefully he folded one of Stiles fingers down into his palm, "one" and another "two"
"Three"
"Four...five...six..-"
"S-seven" Stiles croaked, panting heavily as he counted with him
"Eight...nine"
"...Ten"
He squeezed the boy's hands "You're in my reality Stiles, bring me back to yours"
"I ca-can't" Stiles cried, tears streaming down his cheeks, but Phil didn't falter
"You can" he insisted, holding him tighter "You wanna know how I know that?"
"Because you are the strongest person I've ever met and I've met the Hulk" he said hoping the humour might be more successful in snapping Stiles out of it
"What if you leave?" Stiles whispered "I-I can't do this alone"
"Stiles listen to me, I will never leave you"
"you have before"
"And I will never make that mistake again" he took a deep breath "I lost you once Stiles, and I can't lose you again. so I need you to fight this, you aren't alone I'm here with you" he squeezed his hands "We'll beat this together"
Stiles' eyes clenched shut and his fist closed around his uncle in a hulk-like grip. The sharp scrape of his teeth grinding against each other shooting sharps pains through his brain, severing his connection to the powerful force churning inside him, begging to be released.
Phil watched enraptured as his nephew came out of his trance-like state. The black fog that had been pulsating in the air around them seemed to be reabsorbing into Stiles' body, the crackles of electricity finally dying down and the lights ceasing to flicker.
Stiles snapped out of as the last of the thick energy dissipated from the air, leaving him gasping for breath.
"What did you do to me?" He rasped, seemingly to no one in particular
Phil exchanged looks with Fury and Clint before returning his attention to his frantic-looking nephew
"Stiles?" He called hesitantly
The boy looked up at him, his eyes still slightly glassy "Uncle Phil?"
"I think we need to talk kid," he said "There seems to be a lot of catching up to do"