"It can be... difficult. I'm strongly suspect Scott has internalized thaumatophobia - the hatred of one's own self because one's own magic. It's a thing in my world."

"We probably don't have a word for that. And that's never how it seemed back home, but maybe it's different out here." 

Chess. "Home?"

"In the dream dimension." 

Sky captures the last bishop.

 "Oh, I see. And Scott did behave differently the first time I met him there." More chess, Felix is not particularly bad at it, but Sky is better. "Do you have plans for the future?"

"Not plans, exactly. What I want is to help cracking open this complete farce of a supernatural conspiracy, but I also don't want to ruin lives, so. I'm trying to figure that out."

Felix tilts his head. "My exact sentiments. It is so absurd that such thing exists."

"Not absurd, a lot of times having trained experts working on a problem is good, and if werewolves want to form separatist communes, that's their business. It's just clearly not working, long-term. I'm not sure how to solve it, because I don't really want politicians or scientists or corporations involved."

Felix raises his eyebrows. "My thoughts exactly. I don't have a good angle so far, but I can..." He waves around him to illustrate what he can create, "which at least solves a lot of budget constraints. I was considering doing ethical research on werewolves so the scientists and corporations have less to gain from the unethical kind."

"Do you need help with that? Getting test subjects."

"I'm likely to, I don't think the current environment breads trust in werewolves. But I'm more worried about finding doctors that fall in the tiny overlap of: having the skill set; capable of complying with ethics; bribable; and not prone to go to the media."

Leo would've been so useful here.

"Some of the immigrants might fit. They already know, and none of us can go blabbing. I could also use Scott's mom, if it comes to that. She'll help me get references without asking a lot of questions."

"Yes... Do you want to help me with that, then?"

"Thanks. I'd like that."

"I'm glad to help." More chess happens.

Check.

"Do you think-no, never mind." 

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm just...glad you came."

If Felix can't find a way out, that's checkmate.

He can't, hopefully it isn't an ominous checkmate.

"You're a good player."

"I'm a good player. Stiles would be a good player, if he had the patience. It's interesting, knowing you're like- the extra Stiles. There's already a Stiles around, and I can't go back home, back to being Stiles."

He starts clearing the board.

Felix watches the board being cleared away.

"I feel selfish for wanting to go home."

"Of course you want to go back. I would if I could. But my home was never real, and this place doesn't have a place for me. So I'm finding something else to do. I hope, if you can't go back...you find a place." 

He stands, clearing his throat. 

"Good game. You should practice for our re- match." 

"I didn't mean that you should feel the same. I'm sorry if came out that way." Felix says.

"It's fine, I'm not offended. I just hope you can be happy here, while you're here." 

He pauses, considering, and places a hand on Felix's shoulder. 

"I hear this is a comforting gesture. Feedback?" 

"...It helped a little?"

"Maybe a hug would be better?"