Title: Drove Through Ghosts To Get Here
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Authors: Sxymami0909 and Xtremeroswellia
Timeline: Takes place 1 year after the end of ‘Beyond The Sea’
Series: Post Finale AU
Pairings: Stiles/Lydia, Scott/Kira, Isaac Lahey, Sheriff Stilinski, Melissa McCall, Chris Argent, Derek Hale, Cora Hale, Aiden, Ethan, Danny, Braeden, Alan Deaton, Peter Hale, Malia Tate-Hale, mentions of Scott/Allison, mentions of Derek/Lydia, mentions of Stiles/Braeden
Summary: The one year anniversary of Allison's death is right around the corner just in time for a new threat to make it's way to Beacon Hills. With Lydia's banshee powers growing, and dead bodies piling up near the Nemeton, Scott and his pack need to work together to figure out who's behind the latest attacks and what knew evil is on the lose. Tension is mounting in the pack and relationships will be tested when an old ally returns to town with information that could help the pack. But can the pack trust their old friend or has the year passed hardened him to a point of no return?
Author's Note: This is a Stydia story, but it's a slow burn because a lot needs to be rebuilt and there are mentions of other couples and other friendships along the way. One year has passed between this story and 'Beyond the Sea'. You will get to see the missing year in a series of one-shots taking place between 'Beyond the Sea' and this story later on.
Previous Chapters: | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten |
Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen |
Nineteen |Twenty |Twenty-One |Twenty-Two |Twenty-Three | Twenty-Four |Twenty-Five |Twenty-Six |
Lydia chuckled as she watched Isaac and Cora on the dance floor, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “This is really happening right? I’m not imagining things?” She asked glancing between Derek, Scott, and Kira.
Scott grinned, “Oh no, it’s definitely happening and I’m getting photographic evidence,” he said as he took out his cell phone. He held it out and snapped a few pictures as Kira giggled.
Lydia shook her head, “I’m going to grab a drink, anyone want anything?” She asked standing and then faltering slightly as a rush of dizziness filling her making her body pitch forward. She caught herself on the chair and frowned. What the hell?
“Hey, you okay?” Derek frowned, putting a hand on her arm to steady her. He rose to his feet, too, looking worried.
Lydia was quiet for a second her vision blurring. She felt her body growing tired for a minute and then it passed. The dizziness was gone and she felt completely fine. Her brows drew together as she glanced at Derek, “Yeah, I’m okay. That was strange.” she commented, “I got a little dizzy for a minute, but I’m fine now.” She assured him.
Scott glanced away from Isaac and Cora, slipping his phone into his pocket as his brows furrowed. “Are you feeling sick?” He asked.
Lydia shook her head. “Honest I’m fine, whatever I felt it’s gone...like it was never even there,” she said with a shrug. “I’m going to grab a drink really quick, get some liquid in me.” She told them.
“You sure?” Derek didn’t look convinced. “I can go get you something.”
“What’s going on?” Cora asked as the song ended and she and Isaac moved over to the table where the rest of them were.
“Nothing,” Lydia assured Cora as she glanced at her and Isaac. She placed a hand on Derek’s arm. “Everything is fine. I promise, but if you’d like to come with me to get a drink that’s fine,” She told him lightly, “Anyone else want anything?” She asked again.
Kira shook her head, “No thanks I still have some from before,” she pointed to her cup.
Scott shook his head too. “I’m not thirsty, but thanks,” he said with a small smile as he watched Isaac pull out a chair for Cora. His gaze shifted to the gym doors and he wondered what was taking his best friend so long. He glanced at the clock on the wall noting that it had been about ten minutes since Stiles left.
Isaac caught the worried look on Scott’s face even as Lydia headed away with Derek. “What is it?” he asked curiously.
Scott glanced at Isaac and hesitated. “Stiles went to the bathroom a while ago,” he commented as he reached out with his senses, his frown deepening. “I can’t feel him.” He told his friend as he straightened up. “I think I’m gonna go look for him. Feel like helping me? If we split up we can probably cover more ground,” he commented keeping his voice light not wanting to freak anyone out.
“What do you mean, you can’t feel him?” Isaac’s voice was confused. “I mean I’ll help you look, but what are you talking about?”
Cora pursed her lips, eyebrows furrowing as she tried to understand what Scott was saying, too. “I’ll help, too. He’s probably just getting some air or something.”
Scott scratched the back of his neck as he glanced around the table. “I can feel Stiles like I feel you guys,” he told them. “I’ll explain later when we’re all home.” He said before pushing his chair back. He glanced at Kira, “You want to come with me? And Cora can go with Isaac?” He asked lightly.
“Sure.” Kira smiled and slid her hand into Scott’s and rose to her feet, a flicker of concern crossing her features.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Cora stated, reaching out and sliding her hand into Isaac’s and tugging him toward the exit.
Scott did the same with Kira only when they got to the door he went to the left while they went to the right. “I’m sure everything is fine,” he told her, though the words were mostly to calm the rising anxiety inside of him.
Isaac shot him a concerned look even as he and Cora headed away. For someone who was sure everything was going to be fine, Scott definitely felt nervous.
Scott moved toward the bathroom and released Kira’s hand, “I’ll be right back,” he sent her half a smile and then moved into the boys bathroom checking the different stalls and calling out to Stiles, but it was clear he wasn’t there. Scott frowned again expanding his senses, but still nothing. He walked out of the bathroom and spotted Kira, “Anything?” He asked.
“No, no sign of him,” Kira said, eyebrows furrowing.
Just then Isaac and Cora came back up the hallways. “His jeep’s gone,” Isaac informed Scott, hesitating. “Maybe he just left?”
“He wouldn’t have left without telling someone,” Cora said definitively. “He would have told Lydia or Scott. Or me.” There was no doubt in her voice.
Scott nodded, “She’s right. He told Lydia he’d be right back.” He told them before frowning. “I need to go talk to her. Maybe she can feel him and tell us where he is.” Scott said worry creeping into his voice as he took Kira’s hand again and made his way back towards the gym hoping that Lydia would be able to help.
“We’re gonna find him, Scott,” Kira said gently, squeezing his hand as he pulled her back into the gym and they wove their way through the crowd of people.
Peter dragged an unconscious Stiles through the woods not bothering to carry him the right way. It was dark, cold and the moon was almost in position. He needed to get him back to the nemeton and fast. He glanced back at Stiles, his hands bound behind his back and a rag shoved and taped into his sarcastic teenage mouth. The last thing he needed was the younger man using his emissary magic against him. That would really ruin all the hard work he’d put into this plan for the last six months.
Peter could see the nemeton in the distance, feel it’s power and he grinned. Tonight, he was going to finally get what he’d been waiting for since Scott became an alpha...the power to take him down once and for all.
Stiles woke up slowly, eyelashes fluttering open as his body was dragged over rough terrain. His eyebrows furrowed and he gagged against the rag that was shoved in his mouth, but he quickly realized it wasn’t going anywhere because there was tape over his lips. He winced as sharp rocks and sticks cut into his skin and he tried to figure out where he was. The woods. Realization shot through him as he felt the nemeton next, felt it reaching out for him.
What the hell was going on?
Stiles craned his neck around, trying to see who was dragging him and caught a glimpse of a familiar face. Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me, he thought tiredly, still feeling the effects of whatever the hell Peter had shot into his neck.
Peter heard the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat pick up speed and he grinned, glancing over his shoulder, “It’s about time you woke up, I was starting to think I gave you the wrong dose...which could have been awkward.” He said pausing a few feet in front of the nemeton and hauling Stiles up from beneath his arm so he was standing beside him instead of dragging him on the ground.
“Good morning sunshine, or should I say good evening,” Peter shrugged, “Either way. You’re a very hard person to get a hold of, but I knew there was one way to get to you.” He paused dramatically, “Threaten the lives of all the people you care about and the big bad emissary in training would make his way home with his tail between his legs.” He said with a wide grin. “You did exactly what I thought you would...thanks for making this so simple. I appreciate it.” He told him as he glanced over at the ritual ingredients set up beside the nemeton.
Stiles’ mind was still foggy from whatever he’d been drugged with, and he winced when Peter hauled him to his feet none-too-gently. Why would he be gentle anyway? His eyes were narrowed and dark as he glared at the older man, heart thudding harder in his chest as he put the pieces together.
Peter Hale had been the one using the nemeton for sacrifices, to draw the daevas to them. And for some reason he’d done it because he’d needed Stiles there. But for what purpose? Involuntarily his gaze moved from Peter’s face to the ingredients that were set about the tree stump and fear shot through him. He was going to drain him at the nemeton. Make himself powerful enough to...to what?
Stiles blinked a few times, trying to figure out why Peter would need to sacrifice him, to use his blood. And then it dawned on him.
He was going to make himself powerful enough to kill Scott.
He whipped his head over to stare at Peter, unbridled terror shooting through his veins. He was going to use Stiles against Scott to steal his power.
A slow predatory grin pulled at Peter’s lips. “You always were a smart boy.” Peter said before yanking him forward. Soon he’d have exactly what he needed from the sarcastic sidekick and he’d finally be rid of Stiles Stilinski, once and for all.
Lydia was making her way back to the table with Derek when she spotted Scott, Kira, Isaac and Cora moving towards them quickly worry on their faces. She opened her mouth to ask them what was going on when fear surged through her body the emotion not as intense as usual, but enough to make the cup fall from her hand. She gasped softly her hand going to her stomach.
Scott jerked to a stop at the same time his entire body tightening at the fear that ripped through him. His brows drew together, confusion filling his face for a second before realization hit. “Stiles,” he whispered.
“Scott?” Kira’s eyebrows furrowed for a second and then she felt it, too. Fear. No, not fear. Terror. “What’s happening?” She looked over and saw similar expressions on everyone else’s faces.
“What the hell?” Ethan quickly made his way over with Danny right behind him, eyes wide. “Did you guys just feel that?”
Isaac frowned, “Scott is that you? What’s wrong?” He asked trying to keep the panic out of his tone, but he’d never felt his friend so scared before. He glanced up at Derek and Lydia his gaze shifting to Danny and Ethan as they met up with them too.
“It’s Stiles,” Lydia said her voice quiet.
Scott glanced at her, “Where is he?” He asked and when she didn’t answer right away he spoke again, “Lydia!”
She winced, “I don’t...just give me a minute something isn’t right.” Lydia swallowed hard, her chest tight as her heartbeat picked up speed. “Our connection isn’t as strong as it usually is...I feel him, but it’s not as intense as usual.” She said confused.
Derek pursed his lips, “It’s because we’re all feeling him isn’t it?” He glanced over at Scott.
Scott hesitated, then nodded. “I think so,” he said quietly. He looked at Lydia. “Can you tell anything about where he is?” Because he could feel Stiles’ fear turning rapidly into actual panic and it was taking everything he could to stay calm.
“Wait, how is that even possible?” Isaac asked with wide eyes. “How can we feel Stiles? He’s not a wolf.”
Cora looked between them, her dark eyes troubled. “Tell us what’s going on.”
Scott sighed, “We really don’t have time for this right now,” he said quietly before pursing his lips and guiding everyone further towards the bleachers and away from the rest of the people at the dance. “Long story short...he did a ritual at the nemeton...he used blood magic to bind himself to the pack, so he would know if anyone was ever in trouble. I don’t think he knew you guys would be able to feel him,” Scott paused, “If he did he would have mentioned that.
Lydia took a step forward, “He did what?” She asked, “How could,” her words were cut off as a sharp pain burst through her chest. She pressed a hand over her heart, but the pain was gone almost as soon as it came. She pursed her lips. “We’re going to have a discussion about this later,” she said before closing her eyes and trying to focus.
She used some of the built up adrenaline to push at her connection with Stiles. Derek and Chris had been helping her to control her powers better recently and she was pretty sure she was at least starting to get the hang of it.
Lydia winced as she continued pushing trying to feel something anything that would help. “I don’t…” her eyes flew open. “The nemeton, he’s at the nemeton.” She said as she glanced around at them.
Scott nodded, “Let’s go.” He said leaving no room for argument.
There was something distinctly terrifying about not being able to breathe properly. And when there was a rag stuffed in your mouth and tape over your lips? That definitely counted as a cause of breathing difficulties. Despite all of his training, despite everything he’d learned in the last year, he was virtually powerless to keep Peter from strapping him down onto the nemeton like he was some participant in a kinky bondage game. A quick tug at his hands and feet illustrated that he wasn’t going to be getting free through sheer force of physical strength.
And when Peter slashed through his shirt with his claws -- at least he assumed that was what he used -- it was hard to tell when he was face down -- he wasn’t feeling any better about the situation. He could feel Scott’s fear almost as strongly as his own, and then Lydia’s just as clearly. They were all afraid. Between his own anxieties compiled with the packs, it was hard to think straight.
Peter sighed, “Do you think you can stop breathing so heavy? It’s sort of distracting.” he told Stiles as he shifted and squatted near the edge of the nemeton watching him. “You know you shouldn’t be so glum, it’s not like I plan on killing everyone. Though I have to say I did hope to have my nephew out of the way,” he pursed his lips.
“I didn’t anticipate how close he’d gotten with our Lydia though. She wasn’t supposed to be able to feel him you know. He was supposed to die out there with all the other victims. Now I’m going to have to kill him myself and I really didn’t want to do that.” Peter sighed again and stood.
“Luckily I was smarter about things this time.” He said with a grin, “I weakened your connection with our little seductress,” he smirked, “This way we won’t be interrupted," he said with a grin. Peter glanced around the clearing, “Where are you?” He grumbled searching the area for his daughter.
“I swear, no one knows how to be on time.” He told Stiles as he pushed himself up. “As I was saying, as long as they stay out of my way, I won’t kill his pack...after all I’m going to need people to join mine,” he told him with a chuckle.
Stiles glared at him, ignoring the pounding of his own heart as best as he could and yanking hard at the ropes that bound his hands to the stakes in the ground. If Peter thought that anyone from the pack would join him after he killed Scott, he really had lost his mind.
Stiles turned over the man’s words in his mind, because he was powerless to do anything else at the moment except for struggle against bonds that he wasn’t likely to get free from anytime soon. He’d weakened Stiles’ connection to Lydia. But how had he --
The ritual that had gotten rid of the daevas, he realized. The one that he and Lydia had performed alone, that had left them drained for days.
The daevas had just been the reason that brought Stiles back to town. The ritual to get rid of them had been a necessary thing, which Peter knew, because Scott wasn’t going to let supernatural creatures tear Beacon Hills apart any longer than he had to.
He’d played them all and they’d fallen for it every step of the damn way. Anger surged through him.
Peter glanced at Stiles, “I can feel the anger coming off you in waves. I always knew you were a feisty one,” he joked. Peter pursed his lips, “Where is that daughter of mine. She’s running late.” He said a frown on his face. “I would take out the gag so you could get some of that anger off your chest, but those emissary powers of yours are a bit pesky.” He said with a grin.
At that Stiles grew still. Malia was in on everything. He shut his eyes, forcing himself to try and take slow, deep breaths through his nose. Focus and think, he ordered himself. If Peter completed this ritual, if he killed Stiles, he was going to kill Scott. And he could not let Scott get killed.
Malia trudged out of the clearing annoyance on her face as she held the hem of her dress in her hand. “I can hear you talking from all the way back there,” she told Peter as she walked toward the tree, “And I’m late because his stupid jeep is stupid, plus I had to climb up here in this stupid dress.” She added spotting Stiles on the nemeton.
Malia glanced away from him avoiding eye contact with Stiles and looked at Peter, “What happens now?” She asked mildly nervously.
Stiles did his best to tune them out, keeping his eyes shut tightly and focusing on the energy from the Nemeton beneath him and wondering if he could somehow how rein the power it was emitting long enough to get his hands free and rip the tape off his mouth. If he could, he could end this. He could take them both down with a few well-placed commands.
Scott was out of the car before it came fully to a stop. He spotted Aiden pulling up practically right behind them on his bike. Everyone piled out all at once and Scott glanced around. “We don’t know who has Stiles or why, but we need to fan out. I don’t want everyone coming from the same place.” He said swallowing hard.
“Kira, I want you to go with Cora and Isaac come around from the path on the left,” he glanced over at Ethan and Aiden, “You guys can take the trail on the right and Derek, Lydia and I will come from the center.” He told them, “Everyone good with that?”
Kira nodded, not liking the emotions racing through her that she knew weren’t her own. There was fear -- a lot of it. But there was also anger and determination. Betrayal was mixed into the fold somewhere. It was kind of giving her a headache. “We’ll get him,” she said quietly, before taking off with Cora and Isaac to the left.
“We’ll see you there,” Ethan told him before he and Aiden headed toward the right.
“Let’s go,” Derek said, jaw tight.
Scott nodded as they moved forward gripping Lydia’s arm when she started moving past them, “Stay behind us,” he said quietly.
She frowned, “I’m not helpless,” she said pulling her arm from Scott but staying beside them inside of trying to push ahead. She was worried, the emotions she was feeling, while not as strong as usual she could still feel his anger and his fear.
Scott moved forward pausing as they got closer tilting his head to the side. Someone was talking. He froze his head jerking towards Derek. “Is that Malia,” he whispered as low as he could.
Derek’s eyes narrowed. “And Peter,” he said just as quietly. He wished he could say he was surprised, but he wasn’t. The three of them paused just before the clearing where the nemeton was and even he was horrified at the sight in front of him. Stiles was strapped down on the nemeton facedown, shirtless, struggling against ropes that had no give in them. He could already smell blood.
“No,” Lydia whispered before shifting forward at the sight of Stiles. Scott barely managed to grab her arm before the edge of the clearing. “We need a plan,” Scott whispered.
Derek pursed his lips resting a hand on Lydia’s arm. “Scott’s right.” He glanced between them and pursed his lips. “What are you thinking?” He asked Scott as he glanced over at him.
The anger that was flooding him was demanding Peter’s blood, but Scott didn’t say that. He forced himself to take a deep breath. “We go in and I force him to submit,” he said simply.
Derek watched Scott for a minute before nodding, “It’s your call,” he said glancing at Lydia, “Tell me you’ve got some kind of weapon with you,” he arched an eyebrow.
Lydia pressed her lips together. “I am the weapon.” She’d been able to help Derek and Stiles when they were attacked by the daevas and she’d been working hard on trying to control it. She could already feel her emotions building, if she could harness that energy and focus it she should be able to help.
Derek looked at her with worried eyes, wishing they just had her throwing knives because he was unsettled at the idea of her using her abilities considering how out of control they’d been lately.
Scott glanced at Lydia, “Do you think you can control them enough to shield all of us?” He asked quietly.
Lydia hesitated, “For Stiles? I’ll do whatever I have to.” She told Scott matter-of-factly. “Scott we need to get out there,” Lydia said a hint of panic inside of her as she felt more pain coming from Stiles.
Derek looked out to see Peter dragging a sharp knife across Stiles’ back and his stomach turned. “Let’s go.”
Scott nodded and pushed forward through the clearing with a loud growl, shifting in mid jump.
Peter’s gaze darted up and he frowned when he heard the resounding growls of Scott’s pack. He glanced at his daughter. “Now!” He yelled.
Malia lifted something in her hand and spread it in front of them and the nemeton before starting to recite something in Latin.
Lydia’s eyes widened and she ran forward, “No! Stop, Scott!”
Scott was seconds away from leaping directly at Peter when a flash of blue light appeared and he slammed into a barrier that knocked him several feet back. Derek was at his side in seconds gripping him by the arm and helping him up as Cora, Isaac, the twins and Kira, flanked his side making a semi-circle around the nemeton making sure not to get too close.
Peter smirked, “I’m sorry, this is a private party, you weren’t invited.” He said his voice chipper.
Stiles did his best to crane his neck to see what was happening. He’d heard the wolves growling, and he could still feel their anger, especially Scott’s. Lydia was afraid, but also angry and he tugged hard against the ropes at his wrists again. Maybe if they could just distract Peter and Malia for a few minutes he could get loose. His heart pounded hard against his chest and he did his best to focus on his efforts to get free rather than the pain in his back.
Scott glared at Peter, “You think this is going to keep us out?” He asked and shook his head, “It’s not.” He said a hard edge to his voice. He was furious and worried. He could see the blood near Stiles and he briefly wondered if shit like this was ever going to end.
Peter chuckled, “Oh it will keep you out. Not forever, but long enough to suit my purposes,” he said with a smirk.
Anger surged through Lydia at Peter’s words combined with the fear and anxiety she was feeling, it made the heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach grow. She took a deep breath and focused on her own energy, building it up as she stepped forward, “It won’t keep me out.” She said matter-of-factly, her voice hard.
“We’ll see,” Peter said with an amused smile, turning his attention back to the symbol he was carving into Stiles’ back, pressing down a little harder than necessary.
Stiles bit down hard onto the rag in his mouth as pain surged through him, distracting him as he struggled not to scream.
Lydia took another step forward the pain she felt from Stiles fueling her resolve. She closed her eyes and shoved her emotions forward practically stabbing them into the barrier in front of them.
Scott shifted aside the wave of emotions flowing forward making him cringe. He glanced at the rest of the pack and nodded, signaling them to get ready. He watched as they shifted before his eyes turned back to Peter leaning over Stiles.
His gaze traveled to Malia, who was starting to look a little worried...good. She should be.
Lydia’s stomach clenched as she pushed harder focusing her energy forward. She felt something shift inside of her as a scream built in her throat. Her hands clenched at her sides as she opened her mouth, a loud scream piercing the air as everything she was feeling burst out from her shooting through the force field Peter had erected with a flash of blue light.
Lydia could feel a warm liquid beneath her nose and she heard Scott yell for them to move forward, his voice sounding farther away than it should have as he ran towards the nemeton. She watched him push Peter to the ground and she let out a breath, “I did it,” she whispered as a wave of dizziness passed through her and she stumbled back slightly.
Within seconds Stiles’ hands were free, the knife dragging across his back gone as someone pulled him to his feet. It took him a second to realize it was Isaac. He yanked the tape off his mouth and spit out the rag quickly. Stiles’ vision was blurry and he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. He blinked a couple of times, looking around to see what was happening. Scott and Derek had Peter cornered, Cora and Ethan with Malia.
He spotted Lydia a few feet away, stumbling backwards. “Lydia,” he whispered, moving toward her, but not fast enough. “Lydia!”
Lydia heard Stiles and she blinked her gaze focusing on him, but his image was blurry, as fatigue filled her. Lydia’s chest felt warm and she could feel the slow stuttering beat of her heart echoing in her ears. It took her a second to realize what was happening. oh god, she thought. She opened her mouth, needing to say the words, needing him to know. Lydia’s gaze locked on Stiles’ but the words never came. They died on her lips as darkness overtook her and her body gave out collapsing to the ground, her eyes open, body still against the grass.
Stiles screamed her name and he felt panic run through Derek and Scott simultaneously as if they realized what had just happened. He hit the ground hard, stabbing pain in his chest and head as the tether that linked them was abruptly cut off. Everything inside of him hurt at once and he began to weep at the same time he dry heaved, like his body was literally trying to force him to turn inside out. His fingernails dug into the ground.
“No,” Scott whispered his gaze shifting between Peter and Stiles, his chest tight. When he paused he saw Isaac throw himself at Peter out of the corner of his eye. Scott turned watching as Peter threw Isaac off of him and he swore, “Help Isaac!” He called to the twins as he turned glancing at Derek and swallowed hard. He took off towards Stiles, who’d collapsed to the ground before he even reached Lydia.
Scott gripped Stiles’ shoulders, “Stiles,” he whispered moisture in his eyes at the ache that built in his chest. He didn’t know what to say, nothing would make this better, but he needed Stiles to get up and keep fighting. He knew that was a terrible thought, but he could hear the fighting behind them, “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice choking up.
Stiles shuddered, looking at Scott with pain-filled eyes. Lydia was gone. His chest felt hollow, like part of his heart had been removed. And he could feel Scott’s pain on top of it. He could see Derek moving toward Lydia’s fallen form from the corner of his eye. He could feel the twins and Isaac struggling to keep Peter under control.
He’d done this. He was the reason she was gone. Fury ripped through him and he rose to his feet unsteadily, breathing shaky and uneven as he moved toward the man wordlessly, bending down long enough to grab the blood-covered dagger he’d been using on Stiles only moments before.
Scott’s eyes widened, “Stiles,” he called, but his friend didn’t stop. He glanced over near the nemeton where Cora and Kira were fighting with Malia and he could see Isaac and the twins shifting back when they saw Stiles.
Scott hesitated for less than a second before moving forward and joining the rest of the pack, his heart heavy.
Peter chuckled, “What’s the matter? Is that all you got?” he asked amused.
Stiles didn’t have werewolf super strength, but he was running on fury and adrenaline and grief-fueled pain. And somehow that made up for the lack of super strength. The twins and Isaac barely made it out of the way before Stiles’ hand wrapped around Peter’s throat and he slammed him up against a tree. “Not so funny anymore, is it,” he whispered.
Peter growled at Stiles even as the boy’s hand tighten on his throat. He glared despite the smirk pulling at his lips, “Missing something are you?” He rasped out, “Did I forget to mention the ritual to get rid of the deavas weakened her heart?” He asked staring Stiles in the eye.
“Stiles don’t,” Scott was several feet behind them holding his hand out. “Don’t let him get to you.” He pleaded.
“He killed her, Scott. He killed Lydia.” His voice was strained. He didn’t look away from Peter’s gaze, the cold smirk on the other man’s face making him feel both ill and furious. His hand tightened a little more in an effort to shut the older werewolf up, his other hand curled tightly around the handle of the dagger.
Malia slammed her fist into Cora’s face and moved forward, “Get away from him!” She shouted, but didn’t get any further than a few feet when Kira landed a round house kick to her back knocking her to the ground.
It was getting harder to breathe and Peter bared his fangs at Stiles as Scott spoke.
“I know,” Scott said quietly, his chest tight, “I know Stiles...but we don’t do this, we don’t sink to his level. That’s not who we are. We’re better than that,” he told his friend quietly, moisture gathering in his eyes, the emotions running through Stiles, and his own loss making it difficult to breathe properly.
Without warning Stiles felt Peter’s claws shoot out, digging into his right side in an attempt to dislodge Stiles’ grip on him. He hit the ground hard with Peter on top of him and he could hear the shouting around him, the fear, the anger, the rush to stop Peter from killing him, too. Using every ounce of strength left within him, Stiles thrust the blade up and into Peter’s chest, shuddering as he watched the shock flicker over the eldest Hale’s face.
Stiles rolled them with a surge of adrenaline, burying the blade deeper into Peter’s heart. He heard Malia scream somewhere nearby but he didn’t take his eyes off the dying werewolf. He swallowed convulsively, all the color draining from his face even as the life drained from Peter Hale for the second time in the last three years. His hands shook but he couldn’t move, couldn’t even blink.
Stiles felt hands on his shoulders, pulling at him and he didn’t fight as someone pulled him away from the now still form on the ground. “Take him apart,” he whispered. “Take him apart and bury what’s left of him in different places.” His voice was barely audible. Peter wasn’t going to use someone else to bring himself back to life this time.
Because Stiles learned from his mistakes.
If only Peter had learned from his.
It was his last thought before the blood loss and grief settled on him heavily enough that he blacked out.
Scott stood there for a minute and closed his eyes, his chest tight. He glanced over at Ethan and Aiden who were already dragging Peter’s body away to presumably do what Stiles had told them to do. He glanced over at Cora and Kira who were holding Malia back. “Bring her back to Deaton’s.” He hesitated, “Isaac, call Deaton and tell him to meet us at the clinic...and call Chris,” he said quietly as he bent down to lift Stiles up glancing over at Derek, his chest tight.
Scott held his best friend’s unconscious body as he closed the distance between him and Derek. Scott placed a hand on his shoulder. “We need to go. Can you,” his chest tightened, a lump forming in his throat as he glanced down at Lydia’s lifeless body. “He’s never going to forgive himself.” He whispered.
Derek looked up at him with tear-stained eyes. He wasn’t the only one who was never going to forgive himself. “Yeah,” he whispered back, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ve got her.”
Scott nodded and turned away, a tear slipping down his cheek. He started heading back towards the cars, his heart heavy as he lugged his best friend with him. Right now he needed something to focus on and that was getting Stiles patched up and not focusing on the fact that they’d lost someone else. Not just anyone else...but Lydia
Stiles woke up with a pounding headache, nausea sweeping through him as his stomach rolled. He opened his eyes slowly, his muscles stiff and uncomfortable as he shifted onto his side, not understanding why he was lying on a cold metal table until he saw Scott’s grief-stricken face just a couple inches from his own. Memories of the last few hours hit hard and fast and he gasped, slamming his eyes shut at the sudden intense hollowness he felt where Lydia had once occupied.
He curled in on himself, burying his face in one hand as the panic hit immediately after.
Cora quickly moved to stand behind him, eyes full of unshed tears as she reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder, freaked out that she could feel that as strongly as she could feel Scott’s emotions.
Isaac winced at the pain thick in the air. He rested a hand on Scott’s shoulder unsure of what else to do. The room was silent, the way it had been for close to the last two hours. He glanced over at Derek who was sitting away from them with his head down and his chest tightened. Isaac wasn’t sure how to deal with this, how to deal with all the emotions running through everyone.
He glanced at Cora, his heart clenching at the look on her face. He wished there was something he could do to make things better, but he knew it wasn’t that simple.
Wordlessly, Stiles pushed himself up into a sitting position, all too aware of all the bodies in the room with him. At how no one knew what to do or what to say. No one ever had answers for this kind of thing.
But he had them now.
“Where’s Deaton?” His voice was hoarse, like he’d been screaming for hours even when he hadn’t been.
“I’m here,” Deaton said as he moved out of his office and into the back. “How are you feeling? Physically,” he added knowing there was no need to ask how he was feeling any other way, it was written plainly on his face.
Stiles looked at him silently for a moment, and the tension in the room kicked up another degree. “Do you have wolfsbane here?” he asked, his voice thick with determination.
Deaton’s brows furrowed confusion crossing his face as several other head’s glanced up confused as well. “Stiles it’s been a long few hours,” he said softly not sure why he was asking about wolfsbane.
Stiles jaw tightened. “Do you?” he pressed, sliding off the metal table.
Cora stepped back giving him some room. Deaton hesitated, “With the other herbs,” he told Stiles pursing his lips together, “Why?” he asked when no one else did.
“Because I’m gonna need it to bring Lydia back,” he said bluntly, moving past him and toward the other room where Deaton kept his things.
Isaac’s eyes widened and he looked around, shocked. “Can he do that? Does he know how to do that?”
Scott’s head jerked up and he frowned as he stood. “Stiles…” his gaze Shifted to Deaton. He could feel how serious his friend was. He swallowed hard. “He can’t do that.” Scott said quietly as he watched Stiles. “You can’t do that.” He whispered.
Deaton turned watching as Stiles walked into the other room. “Scott is right. You can’t upset the balance, you know that. We’re emissary’s...we do not upset the balance, we keep it. Stiles...you can’t bring her back, you can’t do that.” Deaton said, his words soft, but strong.
“The balance is already upset. I’m just gonna set it right again,” Stiles said, voice even and without waver.
“It’s possible, right?” Derek spoke up quietly. “Peter came back.”
Deaton frowned, “And look what happened with that.”
Scott frowned, “Deaton is right, Stiles we can’t do this.” He said his voice quiet, “I know it hurts...but we can’t. This isn’t balance.”
“Scott’s right,” Deaton told him, “In order for there to be balance you’d have to kill someone in her place. Are you willing to take an innocent life to save Lydia? And how do you think she’d feel about that if this worked?” He asked his brows furrowed.
Derek’s gaze shifted to Malia, “Or someone not so innocent,” he commented.
“Exactly,” Stiles said, voice cold as he turned to look at Peter’s daughter, too. There was no hint of joking in his eyes or his voice. “Seems like a pretty just trade to me.”
Isaac’s eyes widened as he looked at Stiles and then Malia. “You’re gonna kill Malia to bring Lydia back?”
Malia glared at them, her gaze landing on Derek, “I’m your family,” she snapped anger in her eyes. “And you just let them kill your uncle! Now you want me dead too?” She asked angrily even though there was a hint of fear beneath it at the look on Stiles’ face.
Derek stood up, “You’re not my family,” he motioned to Lydia’s lifeless body, “She was!” He snapped right back his eyes flashing blue. “And you helped kill her.”
“And I’d do it again! The bitch needed to die. You would have been dead too if it wasn’t for her. Peter wanted you dead.” She repeated, “Because he knew you’d give your own life to save Scott...and it would make it harder to kill him.”
Derek glanced at the rest of the pack, his gaze going to Isaac, “Any more questions?” She had just proven his point.
Scott’s chest tightened, “Everyone needs to calm down,” he said quietly.
“Malia, why don’t you tell them everything?” Stiles suggested, a dark expression on his face. “Why don’t you tell them about how you and Peter summoned the daevas because you knew it would bring me back here?” He moved toward her, slow and dangerous. “That it was all a distraction?”
Isaac couldn’t help but feel a little nervous at the look on Stiles’ face and he took a step away from Malia unconsciously.
“Why don’t you tell them how the victims your little shadow demons went after were all arson survivors because then when they went after and killed Derek it wouldn’t seem unusual?” he went on, hands curling into fists at his sides. “How the plan all along was to kill Derek, and then kill me so that Peter would be strong enough to kill Scott.”
Malia backed away from him and swallowed hard. Her gaze shifting to Scott, “If you let him kill me you’ll be no better than Peter,” he said.
Aiden’s jaw clenched, “You mean no better than you and Peter...Are we voting on this? Because if we are...then I’m with Stiles and Derek,” a statement he never thought he’d hear himself say.
Ethan pursed his lips. “It’s not that simple, you know that.” He said quietly.
Aiden shook his head, “It is that simple...Ethan,” his gaze shifted to Lydia. “It’s that simple.” He said quietly.
Isaac swallowed hard his hand at the small of Cora’s back. “I agree with Scott,” he said quietly. “If we start choosing who lives and dies…” His voice trailed off.
Deaton took a step forward. “You’re going down a dark path Stiles. Is this really what you want to do? Using your knowledge and your emissary status for something like this? If you do you’ll be heading down the same path as Jennifer Blake.” He told the teenager quietly.
Stiles’ jaw tightened and he turned his gaze to Deaton. “I want Lydia to be alive like she’s supposed to be. I don’t want to be used against my best friend as leverage in a power play that results in his death. I want my friends and my family to be safe. Jennifer Blake was out for herself so don’t fucking compare me to her, Deaton. When has what I wanted ever mattered?”
Deaton pursed his lips and glanced at Scott. “You need to talk to him.” he said quietly.
Scott’s chest tightened and he stepped forward. “Stiles I know this is hard, I understand, but we can’t bring Lydia back. We’re all hurting, which I know can’t be any worse than what you feel. But we need to figure out what to do with Malia and we need...we need to call Chris and our parents, come up with a story for Lydia’s family.” He said quietly, his hand coming to rest on Stiles’ shoulder as his heart clenched at his words remembering how Chris had said the same thing to him just over a year ago.
Stiles stared at him for a long moment, hating that some of his own anger and hatred was nudged out of the way by the compassion his best friend was exhibiting. He wanted to shrug Scott’s hand off his shoulder and tell him to get out of the way. That if he wasn’t going to help, he needed to move. But it was Scott.
“What do you think she’ll do if she ever gets loose, Scott?” he asked, voice growing more quiet even if it was every bit as serious. “Where are you gonna lock her up so that she’ll never be a danger to anyone again?”
Scott frowned glancing at Malia briefly before looking back at Stiles, “Without Peter she’s no threat to us. We’re an entire pack. If she comes for us again...we’ll do what we have to do.” He told his best friend quietly, his eyes moving back to Malia. “Do you hear me? If I let you live and you come after my pack again...I’ll kill you myself.” He said his voice hard.
“And I’ll help him,” Cora said harshly.
Stiles shook his head. “You’re underestimating her. Just like we did with Peter,” he said flatly. He moved away from Scott, raking a hand through his hair and looking over at Derek and Aiden for a long moment as another thought pulled at him. “There may be another way.”
Scott turned around to face Stiles. “No, there’s no other way.” He paused knowing his best friend was going to hate his next words…he hated them. “Lydia is dead Stiles. We need...we need to stop messing around and get our story straight. No more rituals and magic, god...it’s what got us into this mess to begin with.” He told his best friend.
Stiles flinched and turned to look at his best friend. “And what story are we gonna tell this time, Scott? How many times are we gonna do this?” His jaw tightened, and he shook his head. “No. This isn’t over yet. There’s one thing left. And it doesn’t involve the bitch coyote.”
“What does it involve?” Aiden asked, folding his arms across his chest.
Stiles turned his head to look at the guy he’d once hated. “I’m gonna need ice. A lot of it.”
Scott’s eyes widened, “Are you kidding me?” he glanced at Deaton, back at Stiles and then the rest of the pack. “Stiles no, our sacrifices were what started this mess,” he said his voice raising. “That ritual gave power back to the nemeton,” he said as he took a step towards his friend, “It brought back the Nogitsune...it’s the reason Allison is dead!” He snapped, not angry at his friend, but at the situation.
“It’s what Peter was trying to use to kill all of us and you want to give it more power by sacrificing yourself the way we did before?” Scott shook his head, “No, not again. I can’t let you do this...what if this makes things worse? What if it brings even more supernatural things to Beacon Hills?” He paused, “One person’s life...even Lydia’s it can’t be more important than everything else.” He said his expression breaking at the words. He knew how much his friend loved Lydia...he hated that he needed to be the voice of reason when all he wanted to do was have Stiles’ back. But he was the alpha of this pack and he needed to think about everyone.
Stiles listened to Scott’s heated words, flinching slightly at the mention of Allison and looking away, fixing his gaze at a spot on the wall. “Scott, the Nemeton’s already been given more power because of what Peter and Malia did. One more death isn’t gonna make that much difference.” His chest tightened when he saw Scott’s gaze crumble. “And the Nogitsune can’t possess me again. Neither can anything else.” He pursed his lips, struggling to keep his determination strong and not let his resolve dissipate. “I’m not asking for your help,” he added quietly.
Scott pursed his lips and sighed. He wasn’t going to be able to stop his friend from doing this. He shook his head, “I wish you wouldn’t do this...what if something happens to you? How do you think Lydia would feel coming back to you gone? The way you’re feeling right now...the way it hurts. Would you put her through that?” He asked trying one last time to reason with Stiles even though he was pretty sure it wouldn’t work.
Stiles drew in a breath and rubbed a hand over his face. “Then you and Derek and the pack...you’ll take care of her like you did before. And she’ll be okay.” Because he’d trade his own life for hers in a heartbeat a thousand times over if that’s what it took to ensure that she lived. And because he was too selfish to not risk it.
Scott opened his mouth, but Derek spoke before he could say anything.
“No, we’ll bring you both back. Scott, Stiles needs an anchor, so he might not ask you to help, but I will.” He said quietly. “Because Scott’s right. Lydia won’t be okay if you die...she won’t make it through this again.” he told Stiles, “We need you.” He told him simply.
Scott glanced at his best friend. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“When have any of my ideas ever been good ones, Scott?” Stiles’ voice is quiet.
Scott pursed his lips again and shook his head before glancing over at everyone else. “If anyone doesn’t want to help, I understand.” He told them, “You should head out now.”
Deaton shook his head. “There are going to be consequences for this,” he directed his words at Stiles, “And deep down you know that.”
No one made a move to leave.
Stiles looked at Deaton. “There are consequences for everything. It’s the law of nature.”
“Yes it is,” Deaton stated, “And when you mess with the natural order of things you’re going against the balance. Keep that in mind and don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He said before turning around and heading towards his office.
Scott’s chest tightened. “We need that tub thing...and ice. Stiles you’ll have to get the wolfsbane.” He told him knowing none of them could…”Do we put Lydia in one of the tubs too?” He asked quietly glancing over at her still body his chest tightening as Derek shifted towards her.
“No,” Stiles said quietly. “She’s okay where she is.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at her.
“We’ll go get ice,” Aiden said, grabbing his brother’s arm and pulling him toward the door, dragging Malia with them so they could let her go like Scott wanted.
“I’ll help get the tub ready,” Isaac said after a moment, heading toward the back room where Deaton kept them. Cora followed him wordlessly.
Stiles shifted his gaze to Scott for a long moment, his own chest tight. “You don’t have to do this, Scott.”
Scott was quiet for a minute as he glanced at his friend trying to pick his words carefully. “I’m not going to let you go in there without me here to pull you back,” he responded, “But I also want you to know that I don’t think this is a good idea...We shouldn’t be bringing her back.” He whispered resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “But...I’m here.”
He held his breath, nodding and blinking against the sudden tears in his eyes. Wordlessly he wrapped his arms around Scott and squeezed his eyes shut tightly.
Scott hugged him back tightly. He knew how much this meant to Stiles and even if he didn’t agree with his best friend’s solution, he wasn’t going to leave him, especially not now.
“I love you, Scott,” he whispered almost inaudibly. “You’re my brother.” He knew he’d told Scott that a lot over the years, but he needed to say again now, just in case. “You’ve stuck by me through so much crap.” Most of which Stiles had been the cause of in the first place. He swallowed heavily. “You’re the best person I’ve ever known.”
Scott’s chest tightened, “I love you too, and I’m not nearly as good as you think I am.” He told him quietly holding him a little tighter.