"Ah, I think I overflew it on my way here. Are you really going to be okay on your own?"

"I'll be fine," he says, waving his hand. 

"Go, be the hero."

Trevor hugs him and the takes flight. Being a hero sounds like a good idea.

He will eventually fly past a familiar building, with not-quite-forbidding-this-is-hardly-a-Gothic-horror-novel front gates. 

There are a few people outside, getting ready to go in. 

He will land near them if they are people he recognizes.

(Also, could this place be any more obviously ominous?)

He probably recognizes Scott, anyway.

The four of them head inside. 

Are they startled when the Felix-looking person lands nearby?

Less startled, more angry. 

"Felix? Is that you?" he whispers. 

"The Nemeton sent more telephatic messages, showing the situation being dire. Felix tried to give himself a new body so he could help, instead it created me. Hi, I don't have a name to introduce myself with, yet."

"Do you want one? Never mind, later. I'm Lydia, the boy is Aiden, the man is Sheriff Stilinski. How do you know Scott?" 

"I told you about the dream dimension? That's Felix, he came to our world with the dream crystal."

He looks at the newcomer assessingly. 

"What do you need? We were about to go inside." 

"I am not Felix. And I came here to help," he makes sparks dance between his fingers, "in case you need more firepower."

"Don't do anything like that until we ask you to, we don't need a brawl in the mental hospital." 

"Come along, but don't attack first. Even if someone looks threatening, don't start anything." 

"Don't start fights inside mental hospitals, got it, cutie," he winks at Aiden.

"He's straight and taken, but he has a twin brother you can try later."

 Without further ado, they go inside.

Trevors makes a mental note to check on Aiden's brother. He is wearing a trench-coat and follows them inside.

The receptionist is relatively friendly! Which here means, prickly and suspicious. 

"Hi. I'm with the Beacon Hills Police Department. We're looking into a disappearance, and we think someone may have gotten lost, and found their way into your basement." 

"I won't stop the Sheriff from looking around. I'll lead the way."

The corridors have very little in the way of color and decor. The building is mostly quiet, with only the occasional sound of patient whispering or crying to break the silence. 

He-without-a-name will follow everyone and be quiet, but will make note of the state of patients in case they are being mistreated.

It's a bit difficult to note; none of them are out of their rooms this late at night. 

They come to the door to the stairwell. 

"I hope you find what you're looking for," the receptionist says, before turning back.