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Going Native

Chapter Text

"No more Stiles?"

Pierce heard the shout echo down the police corridor from where he sat handcuffed to a table. By lucky chance, the officer had rushed out when he heard that the missing Whitmore boy had just walked into the building, leaving the door open. With a bit of a mental nudge, it was fully open so Pierce could hear all of the workings of the station.

He'd rolled into town wearing a fat, sweaty truck driver. Pierce had run the man's dirty little rig through a red light in front of police car. Then ensured that the office accidentally caught sight of the dead little prostitute he'd picked up and played with on this last stop. A few minutes later, with no fight, Pierce was sitting in the back of the cop car on his way to the station. Just like he wanted. What better way to scope out this seemingly sleepy town than to provide local law enforcement with a little action. Then sit back and observe.

Pierce rolled his tongue back and forth in the meat sack's mouth. At least the man brushed. There was little he loved more than a lovely set of chompers, too bad these were crooked. They always distracted him when they were like this. He'd met the trucker while traveling in the body of priest he had a little fun with back in Iowa. He loved Iowa, all those seemingly Christian families with children that were just aching to break away and play with forces way out of their league. After being pulled up by three teens with a penchant for a little demon rising, Pierce had done them a solid and slaughtered their family while they slept. Momma and Papa had a great life insurance policy. It was a little too bad he had to borrow the youngest boy's body to get the deed done, but hey they'd brought him out without a meat suit ready.

After that the family priest and then the trucker. All the while traveling and causing a little mischief. Pierce knew that you either kept moving or lay low because if you caused too much commotion, you were caught. And he didn't want to go back.

The young body of a buzzed hair boy appeared in the doorway, looking down the hall. He'd been the one who yelled. Pierce smiled, he was the Sheriff's son. What luck. He licked the top row of his teeth, yes; he'd be a very interesting prospect.

"What are you looking at?"

Pierce picked the boys name up from the top level of conscience, Genim, aka Stiles. "Just laughing at the situation," he tugged his meaty cuffed hand up, jingling. "I'm about to lose 150 pounds, 30 years and gain a new perspective on life."

The boy glanced down the hall with a nervous jerk of his head. No doubt to see if anyone would notice him talking to the murder in holding room three. Not that Genim, Stiles was a ridiculous name for a boy, knew that Pierce was being held for murder. Then as curious as a cat, Genim stepped even closer.

"Oh yeah, How do you plan to do that?"

Pierce arched his head back and bared his teeth in a fierce grin before pounding his head into the solid table he was shackled to. This insured two things. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, checking to see if he was alright was thing one. Perfect.

The trucker's body arched, still unconscious from the head slam, thing number two, as Pierce poured out of the body and then into Genim's young one.

This was going to be so much fun. Pierce thought.

"STILES! What in hell are you doing in there?"

Pierce hadn't managed to get complete control over Genim's system so the boy was able to say, "Dad!"

Before Pierce shoved him hard to the back, effectively silence him.

"Nothing! I saw he was like this and came to, you know...check on him. See if he's alright. He's unconscious, but still alive." Pierce babbled a bit. Apparently this was something Genim did. He grimaced, the boy had diarrhea of the mouth if you asked him.

The sheriff pinched the brow of his nose, "Go home Stiles, we'll talk about your punishment later." He grabbed Pierce and started frog marching him to the exit. "I have a full house tonight with your antics and with that guy you just met. So you're going to have to walk home, consider that punishment number one." With a slight shove, Pierce was out the police stations door.

With a wave to his father, Pierce scanned Genim's brain to determine the way home. Jauntily he stepped down the stairs and was on his way. Walking with his hands in his jeans, Pierce took a huge breath in, checking out the state of Genim's body. He was 100 times better than the trucker he'd been wearing. He ran his tongue along his gums and teeth and his eyes rolled up in his head. They were just about perfect. Clearly Genim flossed.

"Stiles. My name is Stiles. Stop referring to me as Genim you body stealing bastard."

Pierce stuck his tongue out. Inhabiting a 16 year old body meant he could be a bit childish. "Hush Genim. I have some things to learn right now." Pierce shoved Genim to the back of his mind again. Pierce started to poke around in his memories.

Pierce stopped and started laughing. Werewolves. That was one of the biggest topics on Genim's mind. That and kanima, but Pierce just about started to roll around on the cool grassy lawn of someone's house at the situation going on in Beacon Hills.

"Werewolves Genim? Really? Oh and wasn't the one named Derek just scrumptious." Pierce pulled Genim forward to answer.

"Let me out of here you body thief!" Stiles yelled in Pierce's head.

"Genim, Genim, Genim. We have a little problem here. Well, first I'd like to say what a pleasure it's been to meet you here in this little town. I feel like someone upstairs...well nah, they really don't like me up there." Pierce chuckled at his little joke. He loved that it was alright if anyone saw him talking to himself. Genim already had a status as a bit of a freak, so no one would really be the wiser.

"What will it take to get you out of my body," Stiles asked.

"Out of your body? Oh no, no, Genim. I was all for laying low and trying to lay low, but I've landed in this situation instead. Do you know how much fun I'm going to have? And to know that anything that I do will be blamed on werewolves. This is just priceless."

Another memory slide in front of Pierce, "And you're friends with hunters? Oh this is just getting better and better. I'm going to be staying around for a long time. You might as well get cozy in there Genim."

"Stop calling me that and tell me what's going on and who and what you are," Stiles said angrily.

"You're right Genim, we should get down to business," Pierce said as he unlocked the door to the dark house. With a flick of a switch, he could see that life's conveniences had gotten even better since the last time he was above ground.

"Stiles."

Pierce giggled as he opened the refrigerator. "Genim is your name. Stiles is a silly moniker." He paused as memories of Genim's mother flooded Pierce with more information.

"Ah, mother didn't make it. So baby Genim locks away the name she gave him because even years later it still hurts to hear it." Pierce finds the jelly; he really wanted to try this peanut butter and jelly sandwich he'd heard so much about.

"Don't talk her, you have no right!" Stiles roared.

"That almost hurt. I'll give you credit, you're very annoying and loud." Pierce let the issue drop for now. It would be useful in the future, dealing with dear Genim. "Let's get back to the topic at hand." He put the two pieces of bread together. Another memory slide forward, making him cut the crusts off, just like how Genim's mother used too.

"What are you?" Stiles asked again.

Pierce giggled again before he took his first bite. This part was always his favorite. Just telling someone didn't have the same effect as showing them. He wasn't the best at getting all the information from his hosts as others, but he found that he could push him memories into them. An exchange if you will and Pierce did.

Pierce nodded, he liked this sandwich. Genim retreated on his own accord, whimpering in that small dark part of their shared consciousness as Pierce shared his memories of the pit with him.

He'd need to brush his teeth afterwards. Pierce parted Genim's generous mouth, flicking his tongue over the teeth. Yes, he liked this new situation he'd found himself in.

Pierce stood and went to the cabinets. It was important to keep appearances and that meant making sure Sheriff Stilinski had dinner waiting for him when he came home. Genim had already planned to make him some sort of noodle free zucchini spaghetti. Pierce tilted his head as he started to cook; the kid had a great many food recipes in his head.