Chapter Text
"So..." Stiles says weakly. "A werewolf and a vampire walk into a bar..."
Scott shakes his head. "Don't." He's looking less pale and the bite marks are gone, so that's something.
They're sitting outside Marcus' cabin, in the middle of nowhere, staring up at the stars. This is the silence that came after the crying (mostly Scott's), the blood (all Scott's) and the dust (from Marcus' bestiary).
The old necromancer had seemed strangely proud of himself after looking Stiles over. "Can't say I've ever gotten one of you before." he'd said, leafing through a decrepit book that seemed on the verge of imploding. "Bodies with no minds, certainly, and a few spirit-forms, and a rusalka once, believe it or not. But a genuine vampyr like in the stories? Gornischt."
Fortunately, the rules are pretty simple: Stiles is stronger, faster, with no particular aversion to crosses or holy water. Of course, there's the whole "human blood" requirement - he can go without, if he wants to, but after three days the sun will burn his skin, and after a week his reflection will disappear and he won't be able to cross running water (which, in a town with modern plumbing, will definitely be a problem), and after that... well, Marcus' book didn't say. That's probably where the story ends.
Stiles thinks he's adjusting pretty well, all things considered. Though that may just be the True Alpha Blood talking.
After a long moment, Scott draws his knees up to that adorably crooked chin and asks: "What was it like? I mean... was it like what we did, with the nemeton? Was it like that?"
There's an answer to that question. Stiles will never, ever speak it. Instead, he just says: "No. No, it wasn't." He smirks. "So... thanks for bringing me back."
A shudder of revulsion wracks Scott's body, and he averts his eyes, which Stiles can't remember him doing, ever. Shame is for other people, not between them. "I... I did some pretty awful things. I hurt people."
There's more, he's on the verge of saying it, but Stiles inches closer and slings an arm over his best friend's shoulder. Maybe someday he'll want to know. Right now, he's just glad to be back.
They sit there, like that, until the sun comes up.
***
Kira's the first one they tell, because she's been posing as Stiles for three (four?) days now and she's very ready to tag out.
"Oh." she whispers, staring at Stiles with huge eyes. "Oh my God, this is... amazing!" Of course, she's geeking out while still in shapeshifted mode, which makes this doubly weird for Scott (who likes Kira, a lot, and not just because she's gorgeous, but she also happens to look exactly like his best friend who he loves in weirdly unspecific ways).
Stiles, for his part, is very amused. "Okay, I've got to ask." he says, circling Kira the same way Marcus did him last night. "How much of my anatomy do you actually have?"
Scott rolls his eyes, and Kira winks enigmatically. "Like the song says, your junk is my junk."
"That is awesome."
"What about you? I mean, besides the whole grr, argh thing."
"Still me, I think? It's kind of... I don't know. Hard to expl..."
That's when Allison kicks in the door to Stiles' room and aims a shotgun at her ex-boyfriend's head.
***
One thing Marcus didn't mention - probably because he didn't know - is that there's a predatory instinct in vampires. When he's had some time to reflect on it, Stiles will realize that it's actually pretty similar to the way Scott, Isaac and the rest of the pack talk about "the wolf": something inside them, caged but always ready to pounce.
That rationality comes later, though, because as he stares down the barrel of Allison's shotgun and sees her finger tense on the trigger, the first - and last - human thought that passes through his mind is This is how it happened. This is how I died.
As before, his instinct is to protect Scott. But this time, instead of putting himself in the bullet's path (the only thing he could have done as a human), he leaps forward, shoves the shotgun aside and sinks his newly-emerged fangs into Allison's throat.
Which leads him to the second thing Marcus didn't mention: the moment Allison's blood touches his tongue, Stiles remembers
holding isaac and trying to understand what scott did and
mom is dead i'm screaming at dad for putting me through another insane test and scott is moving inside me for the first time he's so warm i love him so much
and kate is teaching me how to use the bow and
Stiles rears back as if he's been punched; Allison slams against the other wall and slumps down. Kira (in her own form) gingerly takes the shotgun out of the huntress' nerveless grip. She's still conscious, staring from Stiles to Scott and back again.
"Do you kn-know what he d-did?" she stammers, glaring at Stiles as she presses her hands against her wound. Kira takes this opportunity to run to the nearby bathroom for gauze and anything else that can staunch the bleeding.
And Scott is pleading with her: "Allison, don't-"
She tells him. She tells him what Scott did to Isaac.
And it's only at that moment - with human blood oozing down his chin and someone else's memories in his head - that Stiles realizes nothing will ever, ever be the same again.