Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: The quiet before the storm

“You awake?”

A ray of butterfly kisses woke Stiles from his deep sleep. The Spark smiled when he felt Derek’s strong arms woven around him, protecting him in his sleep like he always did.

He relished the warmth of the man lying behind him, keeping him safe and protected. Both men were bad sleepers, but Stiles was able to let go of his conscience for a bit more than he used to. Derek and the rest of the Pack would always have his back, he knew that.

Derek was the big spoon, something Stiles didn’t mind at all, even though he often commented that they were the same height and he could easily be the big spoon too. In fact, they had never tried that sleeping position before.

Derek wouldn’t hear of it though. He was insistent on being the protective one. It was part of who he was and what his character stood for. Besides …

“Can’t really have instant morning sex with you if your dick is leaning against my back,” Derek had reacted casually when Stiles mentioned it while they undressed to go to bed one night.

“It’s not like we’re going to change positions there, now are we?” the wolf added dryly.

His reaction caused Stiles to instantly flush scarlet red before dragging him to the bed hastily, tripping over his own legs and pajama trousers which Derek thought were obsolete anyhow.

The memory of Derek’s husky voice and the gaze in his eyes made Stiles rock hard in a flash again, remembering the fantastic sex that had followed after Derek’s sassy comment.

Then again, the two of them had nothing but great sex since they became an item. That day’s turn wasn’t even that exceptional, thinking back on it.

In fact, since they were officially together and Stiles was an adult who could do whatever the hell he wanted right in front of his dad, sex was the number one item on their agendas.

They even shared an agenda with blocked timings in it, making sure that everyone else knew that they were not to be disturbed at those moments.

Those dates were planned quite often, to the chagrin of their Pack, who groaned and commented on Derek and Stiles’ sexual and sensual relationship, because it meant they were not allowed access to the house unless absolutely necessary.

Everyone in the Pack had a go-to place, while the Hale-House remained Derek’s, which he made clear to the rest of his Pack.

“I do as I please in my own home,” he grunted when someone else complained, but he laughed and winked when he said it, knowing that they would always be welcome.

Only, when they were at the house when the two of them were going at it, it was obvious that extra strong hearing didn’t always come in handy for the wolves. The grunting, albeit kept within the confinement of their shared bedroom, was audibly for all those with sharp hearing.

After the third time, Erica asked the two of them to get access to their agenda too, just to make sure she would not be at the house with Boyd at the same time. After all, she could only handle so much arousal from her boyfriend herself.

Derek dryly commented to that remark, telling her that at least she had a pretty good sex life thanks to them and she should be grateful.

Stiles had offered to put a spell on them all to block out the whole grunting thing. Which worked perfectly fine, but it didn’t stop the arousal from reeking up the place, as Jackson put it dryly after a week or so.

Stiles told them bluntly they shouldn’t be complaining, since they all were involved in relationships right now and could jump each other like bunnies too all the time.

“Are we complaining?” he asked with raised eyebrow. “No, we are not.”

He then tried a spell to block the arousal too, which backfired on them because they stopped smelling anything at all.

According to Deaton, arousal was part of human and wolf nature and could not be blocked by any spells without consequences.

Finally, Stiles’ dad interfered once he found out what was going on and told the others firmly that his son and Derek were on their unofficial honeymoon and they should leave them alone.

Basically, the man used that excuse to avoid spending much time at the Hale-House to watch his son and Derek flirt with each other blatantly out in the open.

Even though the sheriff was quite open about these things, he still didn’t want to see his son’s finger enter Derek’s mouth with whipped cream dozed all over it.

In the past few weeks, things had quieted down a bit. The Pack had gotten used to the two of them acting like a genuine couple and stopped making remarks. Or maybe they had gotten used to the scent that Stiles spread whenever he saw Derek.

“Stiles?” Derek’s soft voice hummed in his ear. “I know that you’re awake. Are you daydreaming?”

“I’m awake,” Stiles mumbled happily, leaning heavily into Derek as he felt the wolf’s morning wood against his back. “But not ready to have sex just yet, Der. My brain is still asleep.”

“Why do you always think that sex is the first thing on my mind?” Derek snorted, kissing Stiles’ ear.

“Because it usually is,” Stiles hummed, reaching behind him to feel up Derek. “God, you’re ready to have a go again, aren’t you? Wasn’t last night exhausting enough? I’m still recovering, you know.”

“I actually need to pee,” Derek commented, “but you’re blocking my arm and you were just too beautiful to wake up before, so now I have to get up urgently before I pee in the bed. Can you move, please?”

“I was beautiful?” the teenager asked shocked.

Stiles turned around, still lying on Derek’s arm as he looked at the man next to him, not believing his luck for the millionth time.

Derek groaned.

“Yeah. But please move so I can pee.”

Stiles laughed, touching Derek’s nose before he slid off him, allowing him to head towards the bathroom and do his business alone. He was nuts about Derek, but they didn’t watch each other using the bathroom fortunately. It was something he wouldn’t be able to cope with, even in this stage of their relationship.

Derek washed his hands and returned to the bed, sliding back in. Instantly, he wrapped his arms around Stiles again, allowing his boyfriend to keep on staring at him.

Stiles shook his head lightly, wondering where his luck came from. Who was this man holding him? A man, who looked at him with such love and care in his eyes Stiles had never thought he would get?

Even the others, albeit in their perfect relationships, never gazed at each other like that. Nobody addressed their partner like Derek addressed him.

Stiles’ heart lifted. Derek was just perfect in every way and Stiles could not believe that this gorgeous man could be even remotely interested in him.

Yet he was. He had been for months. Derek was his boyfriend, his lover and the man he was going to spend the rest of his life with. They both knew that. It didn’t need to be said out loud.

This was their life and their time together and they adored one another for it. Stiles wanted to ask Derek to marry him, but he didn’t dare to, out of fear he would say no. Then again, he should pop the question, because he knew he would get a yes from him.

There was no doubt in Stiles’ mind that Derek would always be there, even if life wouldn’t always take place at the Hale residence that they had rebuilt in the middle of the Preserve. Wherever they went, they would take their love with them.

Soon enough, Derek and Stiles would leave Beacon Hills together so Stiles could finish up his training in law enforcement. He wanted to work at his dad’s precinct, combining his knowledge of the supernatural with a job as sheriff’s deputy.

Maybe one day, he would be able to step into his father’s footsteps and become sheriff too, but that was far ahead in the future.

Derek and Stiles had figured it all out, discussing it with the Pack for weeks before finally making the decision to go ahead and do it. It was Derek who ultimately decided this was the right way to go.

The Alpha had insisted that Stiles should go and finish his course, as he was adamant that the now nearly nineteen-year old needed to expand his boundaries before settling back home.

Stiles had done a lot of home courses to prepare for his life in law enforcement. He had passed all of his theoretical exams with flying colors, but of course the physical ones needed to happen outside of Beacon Hills. Without those, he wouldn’t be able to get his degree.

“You can’t have studied all this time not to be rewarded for it,” Derek had told Stiles. “You need to finish now what you started.”

Leaving Beacon Hills frightened Stiles, but he had no choice. He wanted to be a deputy and for that, he needed to go away for a while. He finally caved in and said he would do it.

His training as a Spark and Mage had been rounded up by Deaton, who told him he was ready to go into the world on his own. He could focus on the official part now and become a true deputy of Beacon Hills.

It was the right thing to do.

Stiles and Derek would be gone from the Pack for six months, where Derek would juggle his responsibilities as an Alpha with the support of Stiles. With Derek by his side, Stiles knew he could handle those six months, even though they seemed like an eternity to him right now.

As long as Derek was around, Stiles could travel to the north pole for all he cared. Derek was the one person he need to keep the Red Mage inside of him under control and be happy and carefree at the same time.

Deaton had told him that he could leave and not lose control anymore. He was ready for it, even though he still needed at least one Pack member nearby. That would never change for as long as he lived.

That was the one downside of it all. After Stiles and the Mage merged into one, it became quite obvious that Stiles’ friends needed to support him at all times.

The Mage needed the Pack in order to function properly, to keep him grounded and to pore out of the positiveness and now the darkness. Without the support, love and care of his Pack, Stiles’ darker side could lose control easily.

They had found this out when Stiles’ Mage had killed Gerard, Kali and Ennis without even thinking about it. They knew he could do it again. In fact, whenever they were a couple of miles away from him, Stiles felt upset and angry much easier.

He needed his support and Derek was the perfect choice for that. Which is why Derek had been the one offering to go with him without even thinking about it twice. Not only was he Stiles’ soulmate and anchor, he also was the only one the Mage would listen to if something went wrong.

Besides, the Pack was deciding for themselves what they wanted to do. Derek had insisted that they pick up their lives and become the persons they wanted to be. He was growing a lot in his role as Alpha, allowing his Pack to expend their boundaries.

Erica and Boyd would stay in Beacon Hills and continue to run their flower shop as they had done for months. The shop thrived and was doing really well, thanks to the exceptional flowers Stiles provided with his magic. They were known for it now far beyond the outskirts of Beacon Hills.

Lydia admitted to MIT and planned on leaving around the same time as Stiles. Only, she would study there for four years and be gone for lengthy periods of time. Jackson was going with her, but he wasn’t accepted at MIT. He actually never applied there, knowing he would never get it.

Instead, he chose a smaller college nearby, so the two of them could stay together. They had picked out a small apartment to share, located halfway between both colleges.

Allison and Isaac were leaving for UCLA together, where Allison would study History and Isaac would get into Arts. Allison had studied and trained hard to become a skilled huntress, thanks to her dad.

The two of them weren’t that far away from Beacon Hills, so they planned on staying at the Hale-House. Since Isaac didn’t have much money and Allison’s dad Chris was in France right now, that seemed more convenient anyhow.

Besides that, Allison was teaching the others how to use bow and arrow too, which they really liked. Her lessons were very popular amongst the Pack members.

Peter had moved into a loft downtown, insisting on having a place to his own besides the Pack House. He needed time to himself, to reflect on who he was and what he wanted to do.

He had taken up some writing courses and actually had a talent for painting too, which he loved. Writing and painting calmed him down quite a bit. He had become a very good friend to Derek and supported his nephew in whatever he wanted to achieve.

Peter also became sort of a mentor to the others, using his skills as a born wolf to help them when they had a tough full moon.

Stiles and Peter had become very good friends. Stiles found an unexpected ally in the man who seemed to get him and where he was coming from. Peter dragged him through his nightmares and issues when needed.

He was still the only single male at the house, but he apparently wanted to stay that way deliberately. He claimed life was easier when you only had to take care of yourself. In a way, he was right.

Scott and Kira were different than the other Pack members. Apart from the fact they were a relatively new couple and Kira was still new to the supernatural world, they both also didn’t know yet what to do with their lives.

Scott had always wanted to become a vet, but he still had trouble coping with the events that caused him to kill a Rogue Alpha. He had been trying to figure out what he wanted, but his mind was boggled and he walked around restlessly.

For months, Scott’s memories had been slowly restoring, making it hard for him to accept what he experience d when he was under the influence of Gerard. The Beta had nightmares about the moment Kate gave him the Alpha to kill.

For months, Scott had denied that the Alpha died because of him, because it was easier for him. When he finally remembered it all, he had a hard time coping with the memories.

The darkness was a side to him he wasn’t used to and he needed to accept for himself that he too could turn into the next Peter, if he ever allowed himself to slide away.

Deaton had told Scott to take some time off and go traveling before turning towards his studies. It seemed like a good thing to do, as it would get him away from Beacon Hills for some time, which might be exactly what he need.

Kira, new to the supernatural world, had learned about the events leading up to the Pack living at the Hale House.

After she found out, she tried to be as supportive as she could towards Scott, while learning about her own Kitsune-powers at the same time. Beacon Hills apparently had unleashed her power fully, as predicted by her mother.

Kira wanted to go traveling with Scott, but they hadn’t decided yet if that was the way to go. They were debating it constantly.

Stiles didn’t feel like he could give his former best friend good advice, even though Scott often pleaded with him to talk about it.

Stiles had forgiven Scott for the events, but he had not forgotten about them. He didn’t trust Scott anymore, which became painfully apparent whenever Scott tried to talk to him about his issues.

Stiles knew it would be best for Scott to go away for a while, but he wouldn’t be the one to tell him that. Scott had to figure that out for himself.

In a way, it would be a relief for them that Scott would leave. The Pack was different when he was around, but everyone was too polite to comment.

“Stiles, stop thinking so much,” Derek smiled, touching his cheekbone.

“I’m thinking about what you just said,” Stiles whispered touched. “Do you really think I’m beautiful?”

“Oh yeah, you are.”

Derek smiled, leaning into Stiles. Their lips touched and Stiles parted them, offering his mouth to Derek freely.

“I love you, Der,” Stiles whispered when he caught his breath again. “I love you so much it hurts sometimes.”

“I know,” Derek smiled. “I know what you mean. It’ll work out fine, Stiles. It always does. You and I are meant to be together. Nothing or nobody is going to come between that.”

“Not even my Mage?” Stiles asked scared.

“Especially not your Mage. You are the Mage now, remember? Feared by all, but loved even more. You are strong and powerful and I love you for it,” Derek smiled.

“Thanks, Der,” Stiles whispered, touched by the love he received from his boyfriend. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

“You mean, me with my hard-on and you pointing in the wrong direction?” Derek asked with raised eyebrow.

Stiles punched him playfully.

When Derek kissed him again, he gathered the courage to pop the question. He had to, or he would burst out of his seams.

“Marry me,” he whispered, staring into the wolf’s beautiful eyes. “Please marry me.”

Derek held his breath before looking at Stiles with such love it became indescribable. He laughed then, let go of Stiles and opened the drawer of his nightstand.

“What’s so funny?” Stiles muttered shocked. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Close your eyes, Stiles,” Derek said.

Stiles did as he was told. When Derek was done shoving things around, Stiles opened his eyes again.

Derek held a small open box in his hands with two beautiful silver rings, engraved with something that looked like lightning and the silhouette of a wolf.

“I was waiting for the right time to ask you the same,” the Alpha smiled, seeing Stiles’ reaction. “Like, right now. I had planned to ask you this morning.”

“Two rings?” Stiles whispered.

“Well, I figured out you were going to ask me impulsively at one point in time, especially since you’ve been secretly looking online at rings, so I had two rings made instead of one to avoid embarrassment,” Derek grinned broadly. “Stiles Stilinski, my friend, my lover, my Emissary, my Spark and my Mage, would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

“God, yes!” Stiles cried out, throwing his arms around Derek. “Yes, I’ll marry you, you big goof.”

Derek delivered the biggest smile every while he gently took Stiles’ hand in his and moved the ring over his ring finger, stroking the skin until Stiles teared up.

Then Stiles took the other ring and did the same, kissing Derek’s finger gently and delicately, staring at the rings. They were absolutely perfect. Stiles hadn’t even found rings like that online, even though he had been searching forever.

“God, we have to tell my dad,” Stiles said. “He’ll freak out! I have to call him. Tell him face to face, or he’ll get a heartache. Then I’ll take him out for burgers so he can recover.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Derek laughed. “Remember how we asked the Pack, your dad and Melissa to stay the night? Well actually, I asked them, since you were too busy thinking about sex again.”

Stiles held his breath, suddenly hearing the shuffling sounds that had been there for some time, but he had been too busy focusing on Derek to really understand what that sound was.

“You didn’t …” he muttered, slipping out of bed.

“Oh yeah I did,” Derek laughed.

Stiles opened the door and stared straight into the faces of his dad, Melissa and the rest of the Pack, all throwing themselves at him at the same time.

“You bastards knew!” Stiles cried out while he was thrown backwards by his friends and family, all congratulating them at the same time.

Lying on the ground, tackled by his Pack, Stiles looked over his shoulder at Derek, who roared with laughter.

“Surprise,” the wolf quipped.

“I’ll get you for that,” Stiles groaned, but he laughed.

It just could not get better than this. From now, it could only go downhill.

And it did.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: The First Entity

In the middle of the night, lying in the beautiful bed standing in the middle of large bedroom that Derek had offered them, voices woke up Vernon Boyd.

Erica lay in his arms unmoving, sleeping deeply and calmly. She snored lightly, as the little spoon to his big one. His bulky, strong arms still lay around her still form.

At first, Boyd had no clue what was going on. It took him a moment to gather his wits before trying to figure out what it was that he heard.

He didn’t understand what those voices were or where they came from. He thought they were part of his dream, which had taken him to beaches and beautiful places, far away from Beacon Hills.

Lately, with Stiles being known as the Red Mage, things had quieted down in Beacon Hills. People were calm, no supernatural activities had popped up. Boyd had settled down with Erica, leading the life he had always wanted.

In his dream, Erica was pregnant. She was barefoot on the beach with him, had flowers in her hair and wore a flowing white dress that emphasized her sensual, bulging form. She had never looked more beautiful.

Her eyes sparkled.

Erica was still asleep without giving a sign of waking up. Boyd looked down and pulled her hair gently from her face. There was only love in his eyes when he watched her. She was all he ever wanted.

But that was before he heard the voices.

They were soft and gentle, like a gentle breeze that touched the trees outside in the Preserve. They were soothing and beckoned for him to wake up and leave Erica for now.

Boyd thought he was dreaming it, but he wasn’t. He could make out some of the words while he was still half asleep. Now, wider awake, he could understand what they were saying to him.

The voices told Boyd that they needed to speak with him alone and away from Erica, so he gently removed his arms from her sleeping form and slid out of their bed.

Boyd walked over to the window that looked out over the dark Preserve. He saw nothing at all. It was pitch dark. Even with his wolfish eyes, he saw nothing moving at all. Nothing that told him who might be speaking to him.

It came to him then that they were everywhere. The voices were outside and inside of him, touching his very being with their gentle strokes. They surrounded him like a blanket, covering him up protectively.

He could almost physically feel them. They were all over him, inside of him, surrounding him and embracing him. They had awoken him and they just would not stop talking to him.

Boyd recognized the odd feeling that overcame him when he gave into them. He opened his eyes wide and listened intently at the same time, wondering what they wanted of him.

Boyd had heard the voices for the first time late that afternoon, when he was at the flower shop helping a new customer. He had been in the midst of a discussion about flower care, when he heard the words.

The wolf thought he had dreamt them then, remembering how he looked around him quickly to find a clue as to where and what they were. It wasn’t the customer speaking to him after all and Erica was out getting coffee.

When they drove home together that night, the voices were with them in the car, but Erica didn’t seem to hear. The voices confirmed this.

They told him he shouldn’t tell anyone about their presence, that they wanted to surprise Erica with his help and that he shouldn’t spoil that. So he didn’t. He was almost hypnotized by them.

When they arrived at the Hale-House, the voices once again overwhelmed Boyd and he freely allowed them to do so. He had been absentminded when the Pack talked about the upcoming Hale-Stilinski-wedding, the talk of the day these days.

Ever since Derek and Stiles got engaged, the evenings were filled with wild plans to prepare for their wedding day. Boyd never commented or interfered; he preferred to listen instead. This time, he hardly heard a word.

Boyd felt fear, but he couldn’t share that with anyone. He felt alone, isolated from the rest. Nobody noticed because they were too busy doing something else.

The voices were friendly at first, complimenting him on his life as a wolf, only to shift in tone of voice shortly after. They started nagging him about the things that he never wanted to admit to himself.

Boyd had always felt the odd one out. He had been turned into a wolf by Derek because he wanted to have friends and be strong. He didn’t want to be lonely anymore.

Boyd became been friends with Erica immediately, with Isaac added to the equation. They were the odd ones out, the outcasts that turned into magnificent wolves. Admired by their peers, but mostly feared. That lasted for the rest of their high school days.

Boyd never felt completely at ease though in the full Pack. He was different than the other two who were bitten around the same time he was. Erica and Isaac were cocky and arrogant at the beginning, showing off their good looks and newfound power to everyone.

Later on, that changed, as soon as they realized that they needed the support of their pack and the love and friendship of those who cared about them.

They calmed down after Stiles took them into the Hale Pack, telling them he loved them. He had told Boyd the same.

The dark-skinned wolf had always been modest and kept to himself most of the time, never commenting on anything that happened in the Pack. He was reliable, hardworking and trustworthy. He could keep secrets easily.

The concept of friendship was still quite new to Boyd. Stiles was the one who always made sure he was part of the conversation or ongoing discussions.

Boyd felt safe with the Mage protecting them. He trusted Stiles and Derek more than anyone else. But always, from the start of it all, Boyd had felt insecure about his role in the Pack.

He was still afraid that someday, someone, would tell him he didn’t belong here at all and that all of this was one huge mistake. That he needed to leave right now and forget they ever existed.

The voices pried on Boyd’s insecurities, sensing who he was and what was wrong with him. They knew about his doubts and questions and issues. They pried on it. They used his mind against him. They whispered nasty things to him.

Why are you still here, living with Hale and his pack? Do you really think you are wanted here? They hate you. You’re the useless one, the one that never does anything right. You’re an inconvenience.

Boyd didn’t intervene when the voices spoke to him. He didn’t react at all. He just listened to them, during the evening and in the middle of the night, while he stared down at Erica’s sleeping form.

She took you because she couldn’t get Stiles. She wants him, but she got you instead. You’re pathetic. Do you really think you’ll be around for much longer once she finds out Stiles still loves her?

You are worthless. You are not worthy of her love. Derek is just a means to an end to Stiles too.  He really wants Erica and he’ll kill you before you can have her forever.

Boyd nodded, listening quietly and absorbing the words. He had known this for quite some time, but to hear it now, made it real.

Face it, Vernon, you are nothing. You aren’t smart, you aren’t bright and you definitely aren’t the one they go to when they need to talk to someone.

You are the last in line at the food chain, the lowest of the Pack. The rut. The Omega. The idiot. They won’t miss you when you’re gone. Nobody will miss you. You should go and get it over with.

Boyd peered out the window with sagging shoulders. He was so sad, so lost.

Why would you stay here? You are worthless and totally useless to them, so you might as well come to us. After all, Stiles wants you out. Stiles is reigning your world. Stiles is Hale’s pet. He’ll kick you out and there won’t be any room for you left at all.

Boyd sighed, burying his face between his hands. He wept.

Go away now and leave the honor to yourself. He’ll drive you away anyhow, it’s just a matter of time. Stiles does things like that. He kills for a sport. He will kill you too.

Why don’t you come to us? You can be one of us. We’ll offer you a much better life, away from him. You’ll be okay with us.

Boyd listened in silence. H knew they were right. Had he not always felt the odd one out, the one with no destiny? The one working in a flower shop because his girlfriend wanted him to?

So many times had he fought these feelings of worthlessness and every time he had prayed to himself that it was not true.

Boyd had struggled for many years to find a destiny for his life, and not so long ago he had thought he had found it. With Stiles and Erica and the Pack.

When Derek took him in, Boyd thought he had found a home, but he hadn’t. He was taken in because they felt sorry for him. Not because they loved him. He was just there, with nothing to go for.

You don’t have to stay strong anymore. We know what you are. We know you’re pathetic and worthless. Come to us and we’ll make you strong. You don’t need them and they’re better off without you. You should go.

Boyd stretched his back and shoulders. They were right. He could leave all of this behind easily. He would make it easier on his friends.
  
Build up a new life for yourself, Boyd. Come with us. We want you to join us. We choose you. YOU, Boyd. Don’t turn your back on us now. We need you more than they do.
 
Boyd had watched the pack closely tonight, after the voices first started to speak to him. He watched Erica when she talked to Stiles, calling him her Batman. It was an innocent joke, but it betrayed her love for him. He could feel her desire drip from her voice.

He watched Stiles for the rest of the evening, going on about the upcoming wedding and his training to become a deputy.

Stiles was abandoning them all. Stiles was leaving them behind. He would leave Boyd behind in the blink of an eye. He didn’t care about them at all.
 

Boyd saw them both in a different light now, watching them all evening. Stiles never even asked him to join him during his deputy training. He had only asked Derek to come with him.

And Erica? His girlfriend had no need of him since she fell in love with the human. She would barely even notice him gone. She would be happy he had left her. She would fall into Stiles’ arms then and plead with him to love her.

The voices were right: he was useless. Nobody would miss him. There was something wrong with this place too. Something cold, dark and eerie. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there it was. It scared him.

Death itself had found its way inside their walls and he was the only one to feel it. Death came in the form of voices.

“I’ll do it,” he whispered aloud.
 
Slowly Boyd left the bedroom and walked downstairs to the kitchen area, where he selected a knife with a sharp blade that he took back upstairs. The weapon would do the trick.

In their bedroom, Boyd opened the window to their balcony, closed it again when he stopped on the balcony and took deep breaths. It was a beautiful morning and the Preserve looked amazing now that the sun came up.

Soon the Pack would wake up and pretend there was nothing wrong with the spirit of this place. Boyd knew there was though. He was so scared.

He could feel it. It was everywhere. A darkness so damp and evil that it suffocated him. It made him want to leave right now and never return to this damned place. Death was better than this.

Don’t be afraid of us. You’re going to be safe with us and the others will join you soon. If they want to, they’ll come find you. They won’t understand at first, but then they will. You will be fine with us.

“I’m not afraid,” Boyd whispered, with the knife in his hand.

All he needed to do, was to shove that blade in his chest and be done with it, but he was afraid suddenly. He didn’t want to do this at all.

You have to.

No!

Yes.

No!

Yes, you will join us now. There’s no choice.

Boyd tried to release the knife from his own hands, but he couldn’t. His fingers clutched the weapon.

Boyd’s body no longer obeyed him. He saw himself in a daze, as if he saw himself from a distance. Boyd was no longer his form. He had offered himself up freely.

Boyd had delivered himself into the hands of strangers. The spirits of those who lived inside these walls without being part of their every-day lives. They had been for quite some time and now they came to end it all.

Boyd knew he would die tonight. It was decided for him. He took another step forward.
 
The balcony was high, the fall deep. Boyd looked over the railing and then he saw her. He recognized her at once as the woman who had given birth to him, no matter how long it had been since he had last seen her.

She stood on the ground and opened her arms, inviting him to enter her embrace. Was she a dream? Boyd didn’t know.

All he knew, was that he wanted to see her, to be with her and start all over with her. All he had to do now, was to leave the old life behind and embrace the new one.

Boyd climbed over the balcony railing, held on and kept the knife, blade pointed at his chest, held up. Then he let himself slide forward off the balcony.

His body seemed to fall forever, but in truth it was just a few seconds. While he fell, Boyd could feel the terror rise up in him when he realized he couldn’t stop his own death. He tried to let go of the knife, but it wouldn’t listen to him anymore.

He screamed. The deafening sound ended in his ears and then stopped abruptly as his body collided with the ground below, the knife stuck between the ground and his chest.

Boyd’s neck snapped at the same time that the blade pushed itself into his chest, ramming straight into his heart. His head hurt for just one brief second, and then it was over. He was gone.
 
The next moment, Boyd could feel himself be swept away. He was lifted by invisible hands that carried him far away from the world he had always known. He was an entity now, like they were.

He could hear death like a voice whispering inside his head. So soft, so gently and yet so demanding. He couldn’t not obey.
 
You have done well.
 
Then why, when he opened his eyes again, did this feel so wrong? He wasn’t with his mother anymore. She was gone. She wasn’t there, waiting for him at all.

There was no sun, no warmth and no care for Boyd. There was nothing but emptiness and death and cold darkness. There were stones and the smell of decay and the sight of a corpse withering away in front of him.

He stood on a stone platform barefoot and had never felt so cold and lost. Boyd had brought this upon himself. There was no way back now, no return to that which was safety.

He had lost Erica and Stiles and all the others. Chills ran down Boyd’s spine when he realized he was never meant for immortality, but he had received it nonetheless.

It was a poisoned gift. He wasn’t in heaven or any sacred place that people went to after death. This was a cold, dark world where he didn’t belong. This was not what he had been promised.

This was a dark and decaying place, with the corpse of Gerard Argent lying at his feet. The man’s withering face struck Boyd hard. He turned away and threw up.

Boyd felt physically present here. He felt the stones beneath his feet and the coldness of the place. He could scent the stench of decay.
 
He had been wrong. He had been wronged. 
 
“Somebody, help me!” Boyd screamed, but he knew that no one could hear him. The scream was locked inside his head. Inside the new body he was given.
 

Chapter Text

Chapter Three: The Second Entity

In the bedroom that she shared with Boyd, Erica Reyes opened her eyes while she awakened with a ghastly scream on her lips. Instantly the sixth sense she shared with her lover Boyd, alerted her. Something was very wrong.

“Boyd?”

He was gone from the bed and she knew immediately that she had lost him. She could feel it in her bones. Boyd was in deep trouble. She sensed that as if something was happening to her too.

Why the hell hadn’t she woken up sooner?

Erica’s head spun. Her thoughts were out of control and she felt as if she was going to suffocate from within. Her chest ached. She needed to find him now.

Quickly the she-wolf rushed of their shared bedroom and tried to follow her senses, which instantly brought her outside.

She rushed down the wooden stairs, down and down and down, until she stood outside in the night air, looking around desperately.

She couldn’t find him at first, so she moved. Erica walked barefoot over the grass, following the scent of her mate, until she turned a corner.

What she saw, devastated her. The she-wolf stood frozen when she spotted the broken body, lying before her, right underneath their balcony.

Boyd laid unmoving on the ground, face down. He had fallen to his death, breaking his neck, but it was not that which killed him. She smelled lots of blood.

Erica sensed there was something else, something she had to deny to herself, because it could never be true.”

“No … No …”

Erica couldn’t utter another syllable while her feet carried her towards the spot where Boyd lay dead. This couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be real. It had to be some sort of bad dream.

Didn’t Stiles always tell them that they were protected here forever? That nothing bad could happen to them all? He had placed runes on the house, had used spells to protect the whole area.

He had told them they could all be happy and live carefree here. Yet, here they were. Here, death had come for them. 

Death had grasped them underneath the faces of the wolves and their Mage, the most powerful being in all of Beacon Hills.

Death had mocked them and laughed at them and told them that they were worthless. Erica felt bitter tears weld up in her eyes, followed by that excruciating feeling that she would never forget for as long as she lived.

She knelt beside the broken body of her lover, staring at the strange way his head was tilted sideward, as if the neck could no longer carry it.

She turned him around and saw the knife in his heart, pushing straight into the flesh of it so that it killed him instantly. Boyd’s hand was still clutching it.

How could that be? She shook her head confused.

The she-wolf knew there was no chance in the world to save her mate. He was beyond anyone's reach. His spirit had left his body.

The wolf felt her heart break while she lifted her mate in her arms and rocked him gently, not understanding what had happened.

Had he fallen? Had he jumped? How did that knife end in up his chest? had he been attacked? Then why was his hand around the knife, as if he had pushed it into himself?

Had he …?

No! No, he couldn’t have done that. Erica refused to believe that scenario. Her mate would not end his own life, not when he had so much to look forward to.

Boyd was a happy person, one who lived his life to the fullest. Business and their relationship had gone well, they were working perfectly together. They had no problems, no quarrels. They were happy together.

She was pregnant.

Then why would Boyd plunge to his own death, knowing it would take him away from Erica? He hadn’t known yet about the baby, but he must have sensed it. He had been scenting her so many times over the past few days.

She would become a single mother. A child would grow up without its father. She couldn’t bare that thought.
 
“Talk to me, Boyd,” Erica whispered, rocking the body as she held her lover’s head in her embrace.

She couldn’t accept the paleness of Boyd’s skin, or the way the neck was twisted. She couldn’t listen to how the bones crackled when she touched him, or look at the knife that killed him, slicing through his flesh whenever she moved him.

She didn’t want to believe that this body would soon grow stiff and cold and would have to be buried. That she would have to take her child to his grave.

“Wake up,” she whispered. “Wake up, Boyd. Come back to me.”

Boyd didn’t listen to her. He didn’t give a whisper nor made a sound. Wherever he was, he was beyond Erica’s grip and words.

Then a gentle whisper seemed to embrace the she-wolf. A thought rushed through her skull and a voice as familiar as her own rang through her ears.

I’m here, Erica. I’m here and I’m looking at you right now. I’m here to be with you. I want you to come to me. Can you do that for me, Erica? Can you be with me?
  
Boyd’s gentle voice seemed to be surrounded by many more and they all spoke in the same manner. Every single one of them was beautiful, unbelievably sweet. She couldn’t help but look up in hope and wonder.

Erica listened to them while she raised her head and tried to see where the voices came from. All she could distinguish, was a breeze touching her hair.

Boyd’s hand, reaching out to hers. She could see him standing there, as if he was alive and well. He reached out to her.

“Take me with you, Boyd,” she whispered, pulling the knife out of the dead man’s chest. “Please take me with you.”

I will, came his reply.

Erica smiled, stretching out her arm.
 

***

 
A door slammed open and shut in the Hale-House. 

Stiles opened his eyes startled, his hair and face soaked in sweat. For a second, he didn’t know where he was. Then he realized when and where he was, and what he had been dreaming of.

It had not been a happy dream. It was the type that ran cold sweat down your chest and made you want to wake up, but you can’t. You’re stuck in it, witnessing it unfold right in front of you.

It had been a nightmare about Erica and Boyd, both in great danger. Stiles remembered watching them both getting killed by blades. He was witnessing it, but was paralyzed and unable to act.

He called upon his magic even, but it wouldn’t respond to him. The Mage’s voice mocked up and snarled that this was the type of magic nobody could win against.

The dream was so vivid that, that even now, wide wake, Stiles thought it had been real. He had seen both of his friends and Pack members soaked in blood, lying dead on the tiled terrace below their balcony, next to one another.

Boyd’s eyes were closed and his soul was gone, lost to the world. But Erica was still alive and pleading to help her before it was too late. She had turned to Stiles at one point with her arms stretched out. Blood streamed freely from them.

Stiles woke up startled while Erica closed her eyes.

Stiles shivered and turned on his back while he released himself from Derek’s firm grip. The wolf snored lightly and turned to the other side, sleeping on as if nothing would be able to wake him.

Odd that the wolf wouldn’t wake up at the frantic beating of Stiles’ heart. He resisted the urge to wake him, figuring he had to be exhausted.

Stiles stared at the ceiling while he tried to gather his senses and wondered about his odd dream. It couldn’t have been real since he had protected the house with his runes, his spells and his power.

There was no way that anyone could enter their home and invade it like that, killing the Pack as if they were defenseless.

Yet it seemed so real. Stiles’ heart still pounded rapidly. He could still see his friends lying dead on the ground, close to one another. They died from the same blade.

Stiles turned to his side, unable to forget about it and go back to sleep.

What woke him up in the first place? Ah yes, the slamming of the door, followed by the whispering wind that flew freely through the house. He couldn’t have possibly heard the breeze, but he still did, as if he possessed a wolf’s heightened senses now.

In a way, he did. His Mage gave him that power when he needed it, like right now. If he focused enough on it, he could hear just about anything.

Stiles looked aside at Derek, wondering again what the hell made him sleep the sleep of the dead right now. Derek was a light sleeper, like he was.

Usually, the littlest stirring would wake him up and get him to roll over to Stiles, making sure he was okay. Now, he was just gone to the world.

Stiles looked at the clock next to his bed. It was still the middle of the night, but sleep had evaded him permanently. He pushed himself up gently and slipped out of bed, wondering about his odd dream.

What he was experiencing right now, felt like a dream too. Like a dream within a dream. He walked over to the window and looked out over the large garden, but he couldn’t see anything at all.

He didn’t have a wolf’s vision. The night was dark and the stars were veiled. A thin layer of clouds covered them. The moon was there, but it was invisible to him.

Stiles whispered a spell while looked out over the garden, allowing his eyes to see in the dark. These days, spells didn’t exhaust him that much anymore like they used to. He could cope with most of the spells, but he still needed to take it easy in between.

All of it really depended on the kind of spell he used and how much of his internal Mage-battery he would be using to perform it.

Stiles was physically a lot stronger than he used to be at the beginning of his newfound powers, but he still needed to eat properly and make sure that he rested up enough in between spells and intense times. When he took it too far, he could still exhaust himself. That would probably never change.

Sometimes he would devour three large meals in one day and sleep for ten hours whenever he tried out new spells or did something he hadn’t done before. The Pack had gotten used to it and mothered him when he was like that.

Stiles tried to explain to his Pack that every spell came with a cost and that he calculated the risks before executing them. When he did overdo himself and wound up half passed-out in a bed, Derek would scold him.

Stiles was doing mostly okay these days, ever since he made sure every creature in the supernatural world know that there was a powerful Mage in Beacon Hills and that their small town was not to be disturbed.

The grown Nemeton and the ley lines he used to protect the town’s borders, helped too. Stiles had learned how to use the lines as a means to spread his magic, while the Nemeton protected the heart of the Preserve, preventing darkness to enter their borders without being known.

Once the word of the Red Mage spread, the town was mostly left alone. The fact that Deucalion had been returned his sight and told other packs to leave the Hale-Pack and the Red Mage alone, helped too.

Deucalion had kept his word and stayed away. In fact, he even helped Stiles to build a fierce reputation so that the Hales could live in peace.

Talia Hale had been one of Deucalion’s oldest and best friends and the former Demon Wolf had vowed to restore to good, having been granted a second chance by Stiles.

The only thing Stiles really needed to keep under control, was his Pack. It was exactly that which bothered him right now. He couldn’t feel Boyd and Erica anymore. Their Pack bonds were not tugging at his insides. It felt as if they were gone from them.

How strange. Stiles shot up suddenly, shaking his head for a short while. No, they had to be fine. He had protected them. They were safe. They couldn’t get harmed.

Then why did he feel so strange right now?

An eerie sense of silence overwhelmed Stiles, making him dread what he would find. Something was off tonight but the Mage couldn’t place a finger upon it. It had to be the eclipse.

Tonight, the moon would shadow the sun, clouding it for half an hour. The solar eclipse would take place late in the evening, around eight p.m.

The upcoming rare appearance had been keeping them all busy for at least a week, when the unexpected message about the eclipse came from Deaton. The odd thing about it was that nobody in the press even mentioned it, as if it was meaningless.

“Why haven’t we heard from this earlier?” Derek had asked surprised.

“Because it’s a supernatural event,” Deaton had warned them. “It won’t be seen by everyone, only by those who have supernatural bonds. You won’t hear anything from it at all. You’ll have to take your precautions though. It will have an impact on every supernatural creature out there.”

Derek and the other wolves had been talking about it all week, preparing themselves mentally for the supernatural solar eclipse. Stiles had his spells ready in case he needed to control his pack. He had been training for the event.

Deaton had told Stiles that he needed to rest up and make sure he was ready for whatever might happen tonight, because things could get rough.

Derek had made cages in the basement to lock up his wolves in case they lost control during the solar eclipse. He had also asked them all to come to the Pack house.

Allison would bring her bow and arrows, painting them with a powerful sedative. Stiles’ dad had promised to come by and make sure things were going well tonight too. Stiles would not be affected by the eclipse and would supervise.

The others were told to stay close together and to make sure they were at the house on time. Scott had said at first that he could manage, refusing to come.

Stiles had shrugged and said he could do whatever he want, since he seemed to do that anyhow. Which in return caused Derek to tell Stiles not to react that harshly. Scott had said that he knew he wasn’t welcome anymore and not to bother.

It was Derek who persuaded him to do so anyhow. Things were not as they used to be between Stiles and Scott, leaving a lot of distrust and anger between the two.

Even though they had seemingly patched things up at first, it didn’t feel like it at all. The anger was still lingering beneath the surface.

Derek and Melissa had tried to make things right between them, but Scott’s comments didn’t make it easier, just like Stiles’ blunt answers to those remarks added oil to the fuel.

Stiles didn’t want to think about Scott anymore. Technically speaking he was still a member of the pack, but it felt so much more relaxing when he wasn’t around.

Scott knew that too. He was leaving in less than two weeks to go on his lengthy year-off holiday, taking Kira with him.

He had been saving up and Kira’s mother financially supported their choice, telling Scott that her daughter needed to explore the world.

They would be gone for a year at least. Stiles knew he wouldn’t hear a lot of him anymore and didn’t even mind. It would do them good not to see each other for a while.

Scott promised to come to the wedding, but Stiles knew he wouldn’t. He had already decided to ask Isaac as his best man.

Dread overwhelmed Stiles. He left the bedroom and descended the stairs, leaving Derek behind. He really was sleeping the sleep of the dead, Stiles thought worried.

The house was completely silent, as if he was alone. The Mage walked barefoot outside, standing still in the corridor before opening the front door. Then he moved forward towards the garden.

With every step he took, Stiles could feel the same sense of dread sharpen. His feelings became heavier, like a burden befalling him. His feet wouldn’t carry him fast anymore.

Stiles didn’t know what it was that feared him so much. His feet brought him to the garden. He walked the walk that his feet chose for him.

And there, he stood still. For a moment, Stiles needed his eyes to adjust to the darkness that was stronger here than anywhere else in the garden.

He couldn’t see at first what was lying below the balcony, but then he did. He saw two figures who seemed to embrace each other. Or at least one embraced the other. That became clearer once he approached them.

Two figures he recognized immediately. Members of his pack. Erica and Boyd. His dream was not a dream. It was cruel reality.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Foreboding

 
“Oh God,” Stiles whispered, approaching Erica and Boyd gently. He didn’t know what to do at first. He couldn’t believe his own eyes.

The fear he had felt in his dream now came true. It hadn’t been a dream at all, but a foreboding. If only he had come earlier. If only the dreamscape in which he had been trapped, had released him sooner. 

Stiles remembered feeling paralyzed, numbed. He hadn’t been able to intervene, to move. His Magic hadn’t been set on alarm. It hadn’t been activated.

Stiles heard a loud shout echoing through the gardens, but he didn’t realize it came from him until later.

The sound continued until the rest of the Pack came to his rescue, woken up by the sound of his distressed voice.

Stiles ran to the two figures on the ground before the pack came outside. He was screaming their names but that, he didn’t realize either until he found his voice was raspy and tired.

He scarcely missed the small step leading from the garden to the small terrace below the balcony, where Erica and Boyd both lay.

He could hardly see. Stiles made a brief gesture with his hand while he muttered a spell, driving away the clouds so that the moonlight could shine a light on the two figures.

He fell to his knees, kneeling by their side. The light gave him enough to see to assess the situation. He could barely believe what he saw.

Stiles’ knew Boyd was dead. The shock of that didn’t hit him until much later. He gave himself no time to think of that now, because Erica needed his help.

She was alive. Bleeding, but alive. Large cuts ran up from her wrists. Blood poured out of the wounds onto the stone surface, touching the tiles in streams.

The blood ran so fast that it couldn’t be stopped. The cuts were deep and destructive. Erica knew what she was doing when she took the sharp blade that lay on the ground into her hands and cut deep.

There was no doubt in Stiles’ mind that she had done this to herself.

Stiles pressed one hand on each wrist to stop the bleeding but he knew his actions were useless. He quickly took off his T-shirt and tore it in pieces, wrapping the fabric tightly around the wounds.

His fingers pushed down hard on the area of the cuts.  Within seconds, the blood seeped through the rags and onto his hands once more. 

Stiles closed his eyes and muttered a spell, focusing on healing the cuts. He could feel the skin twitch, her nerves reacting and her torn muscles protesting, but it felt too little too late. They wouldn’t mend either. It was as if they fought back against the healing spell Stiles performed.

Erica had lost a great amount of blood. Stiles knew that she needed a hospital immediately to replace the spilled blood, but he also knew that he couldn’t get there before she died. Even so, something told him that getting here there would be of no us.

Stiles heard the other Pack members approaching, but he didn’t turn around to look at them. He focused on Erica alone, trying to heal her. It dazzled him.

“What … Erica!”

Derek’s voice shot through the night. Stiles kept his eyes shut while he focused on Erica’s wrists, muttering spell after spell to fix them.

He went through all of them in his mind, each healing spell he had learned himself and even tried out on the Pack. He had cut them, prevented them from healing and then did executed the healing spell to see if it did the trick.

They always healed, but Erica wouldn’t this time. Her body didn’t cooperate. Somehow, it seemed to fight back the magic. Her blood didn’t flow as freely as it did before, but it still wasn’t stopped.

“Push down hard on her wrists,” Stiles ordered Derek, still with his eyes closed. “As hard as you can.”

A surge of power flowed through Stiles. His hands and fingers gathered the force he needed to work on Erica. He pushed his Spark roughly into Erica’s wrists, ordering her silently to heal.

Stiles grabbed a huge part of his battery power, knowing he would regret it later. Right now, he couldn’t care less. All that mattered, was saving Erica.

At first it seemed to do the trick immediately.

Erica’s eyes flew open. She gasped. Stiles stared at her in shock, almost disbelieving that it had worked. She was on the brink of death, but he knew he stood a chance to save her now.

He focused on her while he pushed back the taste of bile and the bone deep exhaustion which threatened to overwhelm him. He hadn’t used this kind of power ever since he restored the Hale House.

Derek seemed to notice and turned to Isaac, almost screaming at him to get some food. Stiles smiled lightly, still focusing on Erica, who again closed her eyes. The Mage knew that his fix, no matter how powerful, worked only temporarily.

“What the hell happened?” Jackson barked behind them, his voice distressed. Lydia reached for her boyfriend’s hand.

“She cut her wrists,” Lydia whispered, looking pale at Derek and Stiles. “Stiles, I need to … I want to scream. I have to.”

“Don’t,” Stiles snapped. “Don’t you dare.”

Lydia shook her head, biting back on her lip. Jackson took her in her arms, protecting her. They knew Stiles didn’t mean to fly off the handle like that. Yet his voice betrayed what they all felt.

How could things have gone to hell so quickly and easily? Just a few hours ago they had been talking weddings. Now they had to discuss a funeral. Boyd’s.

Jackson couldn’t look at the wolf’s body. He had grown fond of Boyd once they became members of the same pack.

Everyone was close to one another, except for Scott and Kira, whom they didn’t know that well. Kira’s connection came through Scott and he had been isolating himself for some time.

 “It doesn’t work,” Stiles grunted desperately, watching how Erica’s blood tried to find another way out of her body, seeping through the smallest wounds he somehow couldn’t repair.

He felt so tired he could just fall asleep, but he wouldn’t stop, again chanting spell after spell to find the right now that would heal Erica’s wounds.

Even binding her wrists didn’t help. The blood kept on seeping through anything they used.

“I can stitch up her wrists,” Allison offered. “My dad taught me how. I have material in my bag.”

“Go get it,” Derek ordered when Stiles wouldn’t. “We’ll bring Erica inside.”

Allison ran back in the house, passing Isaac, who ran out with food for Stiles, who still hadn’t moved an inch. He wouldn’t let go of Erica’s wrists, whispering yet another incantation, hoping this would be right one.

It wasn’t.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked, gripping Stiles’ shoulder with one hand, trying to push his Pack bond into him.

Isaac fed Stiles a sugary waffle while he wouldn’t let go of Erica, frantically going through the last of his options. He had used them all up.

“Something’s holding back my magic. I can’t reach out to her enough to fix her,” Stiles explained. “It’s like something’s blocking me.”

“How can that be?” Jackson said. “You protected our home. We were all safe.”

“I did, in every way possible. Whatever is going on, is blocking my magic from within this compound.” Stiles shook his head. “It’s hard to explain, but it feels like the magic is coming from inside the house. Like it’s all around us.”

“Another type of magic?” Lydia asked hoarsely.

“The wrong one. The dark one,” Stiles grimaced. “The evil kind. I didn’t feel it at first when I woke up, but it was already here. It’s all around us, even.”

“It’s the cold.” Lydia looked at her boyfriend. “Do you feel the cold in your bones?”

Jackson nodded, grasping her hand. “I do now. I had the strangest dream earlier and woke up in cold sweat. I thought it was that which I was feeling.”

“It’s not,” Stiles said. This type of magic comes from the dead. It’s not the Mage-type. Not the type we use amongst the living. Which means she’s cursed. I can’t save her with my powers.”

“We need to get her to the hospital,” Lydia said. “She needs blood to repair what she’s lost.”

“It won’t matter if I don’t get those wounds to close properly,” Stiles said, looking at Erica’s still face. “She’s lost too much and whatever is still inside of her has been tainted by darkness. We’ll lose her at the hospital for sure. I need Deaton now.”

“He’s on his way,” Isaac said. “He’ll be here any minute.”

“Good,” Stiles spoke wearily, knowing he couldn’t last for much longer. “Call my dad too. I need his moral support.”

The fact that Stiles said that, alarmed Derek. He knew the Mage was very independent. If he needed his father, it meant he was at the end of his rope.

“On it,” Jackson said, running into the house. “Can we move her?”

“Not yet,” Stiles muttered, focusing on another spell which made him turn ghastly pale.

Isaac fed Stiles soda. Stiles tried not to look at his bloodied hands too much. Ironic, that the one person in their pack who was squeamish of blood, would be the one pushing down on Erica with magic in his fingertips.

“Don’t try to touch the darkness too much, Stiles,” Derek warned the Mage. “It might taint you if you go into too deep. You won’t be able to save Erica if you do.”

Stiles shared a gaze with Derek, knowing his lover felt it too. Something had invaded their home and done this to Boyd and Erica. There was no doubt in his mind.

“Erica,” Stiles spoke said exasperated, trying out another spell. “Erica, listen to me. Open your eyes. Come on, stay with me, Erica. You can do it. We’re all right here. You can’t leave us now. Don’t let go. Please, Erica. We need to move you inside the house, but for that, I need to let go of your wrists for a second, okay?”

She listened. The female wolf stared at the Spark but didn’t seem to recognize him or her Alpha, still kneeling beside her.

Lydia bit her lip, showing the others that it was bad when she forced back another scream. Stiles looked at the frozen Pack, knowing he had to stir them up to save Erica’s life. The offer that Allison had made to stitch up her wrists might help.

“Derek,” he spoke sharply, releasing one hand off Erica's blood-soaked wrists to push his fiancé back to reality. Derek was too quiet by now, trying to focus on stopping the bleeding with his hands while he kept them over Stiles’, who in return kept them over Erica’s.

“Listen to me, Derek. Get Peter, Scott, Kira and Melissa. Make it fast. We need to whole Pack to save her. She needs our bonds. Ask Peter if he knows what this could be.”

“They’re already on their way,” Allison said, waving her phone from the doorway. “I’ve got everything set up to stitch up her wrists too. Peter said it’s dark magic, like you told us. He’s on his way too.”

Stiles smiled briefly at the quick thinking of the huntress. Allison had always been very smart, thinking on her legs. He liked her.

“Your dad will be here in five,” Jackson said, running back outside.

“Time to move her inside the house then,” Derek said. “Stiles, you need to move. Can you get up?”

Stiles nodded, allowing Isaac to pull him up. The wolf supported him as he let go of Erica’s wrists for the first time.

Derek and Jackson gently lifted Erica and moved her into the living room, where they settled her on the floor, on top of the blanket that Allison had spread out.

Isaac moved Stiles in the house too, supporting him firmly. Instead of steering him to the living room couch though, Stiles pushed the other wolf gently away and moved back to Erica’s side.

“Allison, you need to stitch up her wounds while I use the healing spell that seemed to work a first,” he told her. “The combination of the two might do the trick.”

“Stiles, don’t,” Derek urged him. “You’re too exhausted.”

“Don’t care. Move aside, Derek, I need some space to work.”

“Stiles …”

“No, Derek! If you want to do something useful, form a circle around us and make sure the rest are here immediately too,” Stiles snapped.

Stiles’ wiped his face, staring at Erica’s bloodied body. His focus was now on the pack member that could still be saved, almost blacking out the one they had already lost. He didn’t want to think about Boyd, lying solely outside.

Peter flew in the house, followed almost immediately by the sheriff and shortly after by Kira, Scott and Melissa.

Isaac and Jackson quickly explained to the others what was going on. The Pack members, including Kira and Peter, formed a circle around Allison and Stiles as they worked on closing Erica’s wrists.

The sheriff sat down next to his son, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. It was hard, but Stiles managed to focus his concentration on his healing hands and skilled mind. He was a Mage and he could do this.

While Allison stitched up the wounds with the help of Melissa, each doing one wrist, Stiles whispered and repeated his spell.

Ultimately, the trio managed to stop the bleeding with sheer will and mind. A thousand questions, just as the feeling of a hammer beating down on his skull, threw Stiles off balance.

He just couldn’t grasp the fact that Boyd was truly dead. He couldn’t believe that this was real. This had to be a dream – a nightmare that overwhelmed them all.

“We need to get her to the hospital,” Melissa said, eyeing the stitches. “She has AB-negative blood, which means that none of you can give a blood transfusion to her. We need to get a move on if we will stand a chance of saving her.”

“You’re right,” a very pale Stiles said. “She needs blood next.”

“Guys, she’s bleeding again,” Allison cried out, watching Erica’s wrists reopen on their own. Blood pushed past the stitches.

Stiles screamed in pure anger, reaching out for her wrists once more, only to be stopped by his dad. Derek and Scott grabbed new towels and placed them over Erica’s wrists.

“We can’t save her,” Lydia whispered in despair.

“We’re losing her,” Derek confirmed quietly.

His words warned the wolves and the rest of the pack. Erica’s breathing became elaborate while her body seemed to give up the fight for life. Stiles let out a cry of frustration, not caring that everyone heard.

“She has lost too much blood,” Melissa whispered, taking her vitals quickly. “We won’t even make it to the hospital anymore. We can’t help her anymore, Stiles. You can’t do more than you’ve done right now.”

“No!” Stiles shouted angrily. “She’s under my protection. I’m supposed to save her, Melissa!”

“Maybe you’re not,” Peter spoke softly, looking aside when Deaton entered the room, assessed the situation and confirmed with one shake of his head what the others already knew.

“She’s lost,” the oldest wolf spoke.

“No, Peter! What are you saying? You’re not supposed to give up. From all the ones that are you, you’re not supposed to give up!”

Stiles' voice broke while he stared from his father to his friends. Tears flowed freely down his face.

“We have to find something … something to save her. She’s strong. She’s too strong to die like this. The Nemeton! Derek, we have to take her there. The Nemeton will listen to me.”

Stiles moved weakly, pulling Erica’s head in his lap. He knew he was too exhausted to lift her up, so he looked at Derek for help.

“Help me,” he groaned. “Derek, we have to take her to the Nemeton. Let’s go now. Lift her up!”

“Stiles, she’s dead.”

Derek’s voice broke through Stiles’ pleads. Everyone suddenly seemed to realize that Erica was gone. She had stopped breathing right in front of them.

“No, no, no …! Derek, it’s not over. She can still make it. I needed to bring her to the tree.”

“She’s dead,” Lydia whispered, choking back another scream. “It’s over.”

“I can still bring her back,” Stiles said, pushing his hands over Erica’s wrists once more. “I can find a way to stop the bleeding.”

“Stiles. You can’t,” Deaton spoke gently. “She can only be saved by the Nemeton if there’s still life in her. Look at the blood, Stiles. She’s lost more than half of her blood. Nothing could stop her death. There was nothing you could do. I can feel the dark magic too.”

“You’re lying,” Stiles snapped. “We need to move her right now and get the magic out of her. Derek, please!”

“Alright then.”

The Alpha looked past Stiles to Deaton and the sheriff with a small nod of his head, before kneeling down and lifting Erica into his arms. She weighed next to nothing.

The Pack knew he was doing this for Stiles, but it still broke their hearts.

“Hurry up,” Stiles ordered, walking outside on uncertain legs. This time it was Scott supporting him. Stiles didn’t protest or comment.

The Pack walked outside, following Stiles’ instructions as they entered the Preserve and walked straight to the open area into the woods, where the Nemeton stood in all of its power.

The tree was full grown again, so Derek laid Erica down near its roots, watching the blood flow freely again from her wrists. He was covered in it too, just as Stiles was.

The smell of it almost became too much for the wolf to bear. He looked at Stiles, focusing on the Mage who sat down next to Erica and whispered to the Nemeton.

The blood didn’t stop flowing. The tree didn’t react. Nothing saved Erica. No magic, no light and brightness. She was gone.

After ten minutes or so, Stiles stood up with tears in his eyes. His breathing choked. The sun was coming up, telling the group that a new day had started. For them though, nothing would ever be the same again.

Stiles stared at the sun, which appeared as if nothing had happened. He had failed, that was all he could think about. He had failed them all.

“God damnit!” he cried.

Derek moved forward and grabbed him tight, holding him against his chest when Stiles’ legs gave way and he fought against the darkness.

“Let’s bring her home,” the Alpha whispered.

Isaac was the one lifting Erica gently off the ground. It only seemed right. They had been good friends once and he knew that she needed him to do this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against Erica’s hair. “I’m so sorry.”

In silence, the group walked back to the house. The sheriff placed an arm around his son’s shoulders, taking him back to the protection of the house.

Derek was right next to him, followed by Scott and Kira, Allison, Lydia and Jackson. Peter, Deaton and Melissa came after them, watching the kids intently.

Nobody said a single word.

The Hale Pack had lost two members tonight and nobody could cope with the grief and sorrow.

***

Isaac carried Erica to the house, holding her gently. He straightened his back when he suddenly heard voices whisper inside his ears.

Soft and gentle they were, telling him that he was responsible for this. He had not been there when his friends needed him the most.

They always had your back and now you didn’t have yours. Do you really think we didn’t notice how you dumped them for Allison?

Isaac shook his head lightly, staring right in front of him. He was walking behind Derek, Stiles and the sheriff, who was supporting his son.

You have abandoned them. You have let them die. You should have known they were unhappy. They needed you. Why did you fail them? 

And then they became friendly voices, soothing his pain. Isaac recognized Boyd and Erica between them, reassuring him that they were alright and felt no more pain.

Do you want to join us?

Isaac nodded quietly and unseen. When they walked into the house and the others had fetched Boyd’s body too, placing the couple on the same bed in their old bedroom, covering them up together, Isaac left the room quietly and unseen.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: The Third Entity

The Pack brought Boyd to the same room where Erica’s broken body rested and placed him gently onto the same large bed. Boyd’s neck was broken, but it was not that which had killed him. Derek knew that once he saw the slash in his chest, which matched the blade that Erica had used upon herself.

Unlike his friend, Jackson at least had not suffered, Stiles thought wearily, even though that was only a minor consolation. 

The Mage was shocked to find that death really did come easy to wolves, if it was eager enough to snatch them. He cursed himself for not going downstairs sooner when he woke up from his dream.

Melissa reassured him that it wouldn’t have made a difference while Deaton and Peter confirmed that darkness was upon them. They were bathing in it, in the dark magic that somehow had protruded Stiles’ protective shield over the house and their territory.

Derek stared at them all, his eyes hollow and void of sadness. He didn’t know what to say. He had lost two good friends and felt responsible for their deaths. He had brought them into this world in the first place.

Now he had two dead pack members, both killed by their own hand, or so it seemed. What other answer could there be? Perhaps Boyd had fallen off the balcony and 
Erica had witnessed this, receiving a terrible shock.

She had then taken her own life by slashing her wrists with the sharpest of the kitchen knives. The same knife that somehow had ended up in Boyd’s chest too.

That part, Derek hadn’t figured out yet. Even so, why had Erica done such a thing, because Boyd had lost his life? Somehow, this didn’t sound like her at all.

No matter how distressed she might have been over Boyd’s death, she would not go that far. Or would she? Derek was glad that Cora wasn’t here to witness all of this.

After Deucalion had found his younger sister, he had found out to his great shock that she wasn’t the same as she used to be. She was a stranger to him, who had grown up somewhere else.

Because she had built up a life of her own, she had returned to her other home and took up her life there again. Derek had been heartbroken at first, until Stiles told him it was for the best. Now Derek was glad she was safe and far away from here.

“Erica was pregnant.”

Stiles’ voice startled them all. They stared at the Mage in shock.

“It was too early to tell for wolves, but she told me last night she had done the test and was going to tell Boyd today. She wanted to do another test this morning,” Stiles whispered.

Derek held his breath. He would have loved to see a new pack member in this house. He would have pampered the child and cared for it. And now they had lost three people in the process.

The group left Erica and Boyd in the bedroom and headed downstairs, where Stiles was settled on a couch and fed food once more.

Lydia took a washcloth and cleaned his hands, taking the shaking hands into hers to warm them up. Stiles had trouble focusing, but once the food settled into his stomach, he started regaining color.

Slowly but surely, he recovered from the ordeal, regaining some of the lost battery power that kept his Mage at full speed.

“She kept on bleeding until she died,” Stiles said. “And even then, her cuts wouldn’t close.”

“They’re closed up now,” Melissa said. “I checked before we covered her up. Whatever held her in its grip stopped working once she died. She looks like a pale princess now. If not for the blood, you wouldn’t have known she was so badly hurt.”

“What does that mean, Deaton?” Derek asked, turning to the vet. “What the hell happened here?”

“I have to do some research, but I believe that the theory Stiles just shared with me, is right. This is dark power, the one that comes from the dead. It’s beyond me, I have to tell you that. I’ll have to talk to some people,” the vet sighed. “I’m afraid it’s pretty bad.”

“It comes from beneath us,” Peter said, looking at the floor as if the answers were there. “Can’t you feel it drumming beneath your soles?”

He turned to Derek, who nodded quietly.

“I feel it too.”

“What are you talking about?” the sheriff asked troubled. “Are you saying that something is in the ground?”

“Only figuratively, sheriff,” Deaton explained. “This type of magic, the one that is being pushed and fed by the dead, comes from the underground. Meaning that something has come from a possibly century-long slumber. To do this kind of thing, to get strong supernatural creatures to kill themselves, you need to have stored a great amount of power. It’s the type of magic that not a single existing Mage would even dare to use. It’s destructive and it won’t be stopped.”

“Like the blood flowing from her wrists,” Allison spoke quietly.

“Wait a second,” Scott spoke. “You’re saying that it’s right here, in the Hale House? how can that even be when Stiles supposedly protected the whole area?”

“Supposedly?” Stiles looked up. “I did protect the area.”

“It must have been here before you put the spells on the house, Stiles,” Deaton said. “It’s probably something that has been here for quite some time but in dormant modus. Something or someone woke it up.”

“Scott’s Alpha,” Derek spoke, gazing briefly at the other wolf who was now a Beta again. “Kate offered him to Scott, didn’t she?”

“But that wasn’t here,” Scott said. “It was at some sort of warehouse or a garage. Definitely not here though.”

“It wasn’t the Alpha,” Stiles spoke, looking up at his friends and family. “It was Gerard.”

Derek held his breath when he realized what Stiles was saying. The Mage had killed Gerard, Kali and Ennis within the confinements of the Preserve, on a …

“The Indian burial ground.” Stiles looked Deaton in the eye. “I woke up the dead, didn’t I? Deucalion and the twins took away Kali and Ennis and buried them elsewhere, but nobody bothered with Gerard. The burial ground is technically still part of his land, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Deaton spoke in all earnest. “It would make sense if something unleashed the dead there.”

“The spirits became angry because you shed blood on their land,” Scott spoke accusingly. “I told you that you would not go scot free on this, Stiles. I told you that you shouldn’t have done that.”

“The kid saved your damn life,” Peter snapped, showing he wasn’t a big fan of Scott’s antics. “Be grateful and shut up.”

“Shut up? He killed our friends!” Scott yelled, blowing up once more.

“Your friends?” Jackson laughed bitterly. “You didn’t care one bit about Erica and Boyd and you never have. What the hell are you even doing here, Scott? Go home.”

“Jackson,” Lydia warned her boyfriend. “Don’t.”

“Why not? It’s all his fault to begin with. It all comes back down to Gerard, doesn’t it? That asshole made a deal with the asshole, or have you forgotten? Why should we even tolerate him in our Pack in the first place? It’s not like Scott’s bringing any decent contribution here.”

“Where’s Isaac?”

Allison’s frantic voice startled them all.

“What do you mean? He’s right there,” Jackson said, looking to his right, only to realize that he hadn’t seen the wolf ever since he placed Erica on the bed.

“We have to find him,” Stiles spoke, getting up fast. “Spread out and find him.”

Sheriff Stilinski sighed deeply, his eyes resting one brief moment on Stiles. He knew his son was upset and exhausted and scared. Something was terribly wrong.

Stilinski didn’t want to admit to it out loud, but he had a very bad feeling about all of this. Erica and Boyd weren’t the last ones to die.

It was like a thick fog falling over the Hale House and Stiles wouldn’t be able to stop it. Nobody could. They were all doomed.

***

The Pack split up after Derek gave them orders, splitting them up in natural groups. Allison and Kira went with Scott, Jackson with Lydia, Melissa with the sheriff, Peter with Deaton and Stiles with Derek.

Stiles had recovered enough to set up a tracking spell in order to find Isaac quickly, but his magic was again blocked by whatever roamed beneath them.

They were blind and had to go in search of Isaac with whatever senses they had: scent and hearing. The group split up and went in different ways, going through the house, the gardens and the Preserve.

Stiles told everyone to be careful and to use their phones as soon as they spotted Isaac. He was worried allowing them to part ways like that, but time was of the essence and they couldn’t afford to waste any time on arguing.

The fight with Scott still hung over their heads. Stiles remembered what he had said, what he had expressed when the others wouldn’t. Stiles was responsible for this.

No. No! Scott was. Gerard was. It always came down to Gerard. Why the hell had they left him behind there, in that area?

Because nobody wanted to bury him. Because not even his daughter or his son wanted to ever touch him again. Kate was still out there, leading a life like a human again, while Chris was in France.

They were far gone from Beacon Hills, far away from the corpse of their father decaying in the Indian Burial Grounds.

Stiles buried his tears inside and focused, watching Derek do what he was good at: tracking people own. The Mage knew that he couldn’t afford to waste time mourning Erica and Boyd.

They would deal with their bodies later, once they recovered enough from this ordeal to be able to look at them without grieving.

“What the hell happened to us?” Derek muttered when they walked outside and around the house, spotting the place where Boyd and Erica had died. Trails of blood were still visible.

Stiles wished for raindrops to clear the area, watching in awe as the spell did its work. A small cloud gathered on top of the place where Boyd had died and cleaned the blood away before disappearing once again.

“Odd,” he whispered, looking at the place in awe.

“What?” Derek asked, looking at his boyfriend.

“I couldn’t help Erica before and I can’t track Isaac now, neither can you for matter by the looks of it. But I can summon up the rain and let the area be cleaned by it. Why the hell can I do this spell that would take a lot more energy from me instead of a simple one that could have healed Erica?”

“You weren’t allowed to save her,” Derek said quietly. “You were blocked by the darkness.”

“But how? What kind of evilness would do this to us?” Stiles asked shocked.

“The kind that knows no mercy,” Derek spoke grimly. “The kind that kills without thinking twice.”

“Like my Mage.”

“Your Mage did it to protect us all, Stiles. He didn’t go around randomly killing people. You are a good person, Stiles. You are good to us and you are what you need to be. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Stiles stared at the washed away blood and straightened his back, determined not to allow his grief to overwhelm his common sense.

“Let’s head towards the Nemeton,” Stiles said.

They were stopped before Derek could even reply. The scream of a Banshee stopped them in their tracks.

“Oh god, no. No!”

Stiles cried out, grasping Derek’s hand as they ran towards the open clearing in front of the house, leading straight into the northern side of the Preserve.

Lydia stood there frozen, staring at the lifeless body of Isaac Lahey, leaning with his back against a large tree. His eyes were closed, but there was no doubt in her mind that he was gone.

Isaac’s face spoke of pure fear, but they didn’t understand why. He seemed to have died of fright, that was the only thing Lydia could think of. She leaned into Jackson, who stood in pure shock.

“No. No …” Stiles ran forward.

He pushed Lydia aside as he reached for Isaac and immediately started using his magic to get life back into his heart, knowing it was too late anyhow.

Derek was beside him then, touching Isaac’s throat while listening for a heartbeat.

“The Nemeton,” Jackson proposed, but Stiles shook his head.

He knew Isaac was long gone, that he had already been dead for at least ten minutes before he was found by Jackson and Lydia. They couldn’t do nothing.

“He’s gone.”

With a shock, Sheriff Stilinski stood behind Stiles, realizing that he didn’t even know what he found worse: that fear on Isaac’s face, or the defeated look in his son’s eyes.

He saw the same defeat in the eyes of the others.

One thing dawned on the sheriff though. It was clear now to them all: Isaac, Erica and Boyd had all been murdered. Who was next?

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: In limbo

Jackson lifted Isaac’s body into his arms, carrying him to the house at the same time Scott, Kira and Allison arrived. The look in Allison’s eyes was the absolute worst when she saw what was going on.

She screamed. Melissa gathered the huntress into her arms and brought her back inside. Kira pushed herself against Scott’s body, unable to see Isaac like that. She had grown fond of the pack in a short period of time.

Scott held her tight, with a grim gaze on his face. He was upset that this was happening, but most of all, he felt frustrated at the seemingly acceptant ways of the pack.

He wanted to shake Stiles and tell him to wake up and do something, but he didn’t. He just moved into the house with the others and gritted his teeth.

Inside the house, Jackson carried their dead pack member upstairs and placed him gently on his bed, grabbing a spare blanket that he gently covered his pale face and body with.

Derek helped Jackson, not able to take the grief alone. Stress and fear was written all over their faces. Nobody understood what was going on, but they all felt the darkness which gripped them so badly it nearly choked them.

Stiles stood quietly behind Derek, watching Isaac’s pale face before his body was covered. In the other room, next to this one, lay Erica and Boyd on the bed, both the victims of whatever was going on here too.

The Mage bowed his head, whispering silent words as he begged to whoever was listening for this to be a bad dream. The others stood in the room devastated, watching the scene unfold.

The sheriff didn’t know what to say to the kids. He had no clue how to comfort them. Melissa wept, allowing her tears to flow freely. She had conformed their deaths and it devastated her.

Peter turned away and left the room. Deaton watched the Pack in silence, without uttering a single word. Derek knew he was thinking things through, wondering what the hell was behind all of this.

In the end though, it didn’t seem to matter. The third member of their Pack had gone and left them in a few hours’ time. How could that even be?

“We’re dreaming,” Lydia whispered hoarsely, addressing Stiles. “This is a dream, right? It looks and feels real, but it’s a dream. It can’t be anything else. Please tell me this is all not happening.”

“How do you know when you’re in a dream?” Allison asked Stiles quietly, not able to pull her gaze away from Stiles.

“Your fingers,” Stiles said. “You have more fingers in your dreams. Count them and know if it’s real or not.”

The Mage stood quietly still, to the frustration of Scott, who again looked at him as if he wanted to shake him. The Beta moved forward, but was stopped with a look from his mother, who seemed to get what he was thinking.

They were all in shock, devastated by the events.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I count only ten on my hands,” Jackson said sharply. “Trust me, this isn’t a dream. I had Isaac in my arms. He was very much dead. This is real.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to agree with that,” Deaton said calmly. “This is reality. The darkness is everywhere now. Stiles, you can feel it too, can’t you?”

The Mage nodded. He didn’t want to tell the others, but he had been trying out several spells over the past few minutes to find the cause of that which was killing them all.

He couldn’t trace the source of the darkness, simply because it was everywhere. It came from the ground and it had no heart, no core. He nearly choked on it too. His magic couldn’t deal with it.

Stiles walked over to Lydia, embraced her and took her out of the house. She was the one who felt this the most. She had death on her mind constantly now and it changed her from a lighthearted girl to someone who was the harbinger of death.

The others followed suit. Outside, standing in the garden, the remaining Pack members and adults looked at each other in shock, fear and defeat.

“What now?” Scott asked grimly. “Are we going to sit around and wait for this to continue?”

“No, we’re not,” Stiles said.

“Then do something!” Scott yelled, losing it. “Do something, Stiles. What the hell are you waiting for? You’re the Mage, right? Get out there and fix this! Bring them back to life with whatever magic you have in you.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Scott,” Stiles spoke quietly. “I can’t bring back the dead like that.”

“Then what can you do? Because I sure as hell haven’t seen much of your magic, man,” Scott shouted. “Do something useful for a change.”

“Scott, stop it,” Deaton said. “You don’t get what’s going on. Please don’t say words you’re going to regret later.”

“Why not? Someone’s gotta to say them. I’m not going to stick around here waiting for everyone to be killed,” the Beta spoke. “Seriously, do something!”

“First, we need to figure out what this thing is,” Deaton calmed down the Beta. “I need to do some research on that. Don’t put the blame on Stiles, Scott. Don’t say things you won’t be able to take back.”

Stiles just looked at Scott, without giving a single reply. It was as if he had expected this to happen. Scott always loved to put the blame on others, so why would this be any different? The Mage bowed his head lightly, as if he wanted Scott to do this. It was better perhaps than starting an argument between them all.

“They were murdered, weren’t they?” Melissa asked quietly, stopping Scott before he could continue. “This is not a coincidence.”

“Those kids did this to himself,” the sheriff said, “but I don’t know how. Stiles, what kind of force could have done this to them? What can make someone drive himself to commit suicide? Is this some sort of pact?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Stiles said. “I don’t think they knew of one another that this would happen and it isn’t a suicide pact either. I’m pretty sure of that.”

“I agree. The last scent upon them was one of fear,” Derek said, looking at his uncle, who nodded confirming.

“They were murdered,” Peter spoke grimly. “I’m sure of it. They didn’t do this themselves. So Scott, if you want to start looking for someone to blame, start finding their murderers.”

Scott opened and shut his mouth, shaking his head while he gazed angrily at Stiles, who again didn’t speak. The Mage closed his eyes, digging into the core of his being, trying to grasp the darkness. He couldn’t. Not here anyhow.

“We have to go to the burial grounds and find out,” Stiles grimaced upset, realizing where the darkness came from. “Whatever is doing this to us, comes from there. That’s where the source of all evil lies. With Gerard’s body.”

“Let’s get a move on then,” Scott reacted angrily. “Who’s coming?”

“No,” Deaton stopped them. “You can’t do that, Stiles. If we are right and the darkness is upon us, we can’t stay here and you can’t go out there and challenge them even more. You will not survive a confrontation with the dead.”

“I’m stronger than that,” Stiles snapped. “I can use the Mage to take revenge. I can ask him to resurface.”

“That won’t work when they’re already dead. You can’t kill what’s already gone,” Deaton said. “Look, I need more info on this, even though I have a pretty good idea of what might be going on. I need to talk to some of my contacts. I need to get back to my office and get in touch with people who know about this. I suggest that none of you stay here either. We need to get all of you in safety. Leaving this place is the best thing to do right now. I suggest that you come with me and leave the Hale-House for now.”

“This is our home,” Derek grunted. “I’m not going to leave.”

“It will be again, after we figure this out,” Peter spoke, to the surprise of the others. “It seems like the most logical thing to do right now, Derek. If we stick around here, the chances are someone else might get killed.”

“Damn right,” the sheriff spoke. “Get some things together. We need to get you kids the hell out of here asap. Let’s get a move on.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jackson said, reaching for his car keys. “I don’t need anything. I just want to get the hell out of here right now.”

Lydia looked at her boyfriend and then nodded slowly, to acknowledge she was in agreement.

“Good idea,” Scott said, grasping Kira’s hand. “We can use our place as our new Pack den for now, right, mom?”

“Sure,” Melissa said, looking at the sheriff. “What do you think we should do first to get this sorted out? Can we help you with your research, Deaton? We also need to take care of the bodies.”

“The bodies can’t be moved for now,” the sheriff spoke. “I’ll need to get forensics here, but right now I’m pretty reluctant to do so. They might be endangered too.”

“I’m not going,” Stiles spoke up firmly. “If I leave now, I can’t force the demons out of our home. I need to stay behind and use a spell to cast them out. I won’t go, but you should. All of you should get the hell out of here.”

“It’s too dangerous if we don’t know what we’re dealing with, Stiles,” Deaton said. “I highly recommend that we stick together for now and get away from here until we figure this thing out together. I could use your skills for my research. This isn’t just some light power we’re talking about here. This is the darkest power of them all. The longer you stay here, the more you’ll be in danger.”

“He’s right, Stiles,” Derek spoke, making the decision for them. “If we stay here, we’re all in grave danger and I won’t do that to my Pack. You saw how fast things move right now, how easy it is to lose yourself to the enemy. I can’t risk endangering the Pack.”

Stiles wavered between wanting to do the right thing and staying behind. Then he caved in, knowing he couldn’t do this to the others either. His Mage screamed to find a solution, but first, he needed to get everyone else to safety. He would come back on his own later, when they had no clue. He could use a spell to keep them out of the loop.

“Okay then,” he said. “Let’s grab some stuff and get the hell out of here. Make sure though that nobody is alone at any given time. We saw what happens then. Don’t risk a single soul.”

“Okay,” Jackson said, grabbing Lydia’s hand.

The Pack quickly gathered their things inside their bedrooms, the kitchen and living room area under the supervision of the adults. It felt like they were abandoning their home, but for now, they had to.

Stiles sighed when he passed the bedrooms where the Erica, Boyd and Isaac lay. The thought of leaving the three bodies behind disturbed him deeply, but they had no choice. They needed to flee and protect who was left. When Deaton had figured out what was going on, they could come back.

Stiles hesitated when he passed the room Isaac was on. Something tugged at his insides. He couldn’t say what it was, but it felt as if something was trying to tell him.

He wavered, with his hand lingering on the door. The others were still running around getting their things together. Derek was in their bedroom. Stiles stood alone in the corridor.

He opened the door.

On the bed lay Isaac’s body, covered in a single white sheet. Stiles found himself walking over to the bed, pulling back on the sheet. He stared at Isaac’s pale face. His eyes were closed, his skin was a pallor that only came with the dead. But there was something wrong.

“What the hell are you doing?” Scott snapped behind him, walking firmly into the room.

“Shut up.”

Stiles’ words escaped his mouth before he could stop himself. Then he leaned forward and gazed over Isaac’s face, leaning into him.

There was something there. Something he hadn’t sensed before.

“Stiles, leave him alone,” Scott said, pulling him back.

Impatiently, Stiles pushed his former best friend aside and rushed to the other room, where Erica and Boyd were laid to rest. He opened the door and pulled the sheets back, staring at their pale faces.

Erica had been cleaned up, as well as Boyd. Stiles looked at Boyd’s chest, feeling the area where the knife had protruded his skin, flesh and bone. The stabbing wound was gone. His neck was healed.

Stiles reached for Erica’s wrists and felt the skin. The wounds were healed too. Earlier, Melissa had mentioned that they had closed up on their own account, but Stiles hadn’t paid attention, believing it was part of the dark magic.

It wasn’t.

“Stiles, what’s going on?”

Derek’s voice startled him. Stiles didn’t look around. Instead, he whispered an incantation, focusing on what he saw and felt and sensed.

The next moment, Erica’s eyes fluttered, followed immediately by Boyd. A small gasp escaped their lips simultaneously. In the other room, Isaac did the same.

“Oh my god,” Melissa whispered, holding a hand before her mouth while she rushed into the room.

The others stood startled in the doorway, looking at the events unfolding before them. Stiles closed his eyes and repeated his incantation, whispering the same words over and over again, willing the others to wake up and return to them, but they didn’t.

Their eyes closed again and the single gasp escaping their lips, didn’t bring them back to life. Their bodies were shutting down again, their heartbeats remained silent. They were seemingly still gone from the world.

Stiles turned around with a tired, weary smile on his face. He would have tipped over if it hadn’t been for Derek, who held on tight while recovered.

“They’re still in there,” he whispered. “I know they seem dead to you, but they are alive somehow. We stand a chance of bringing them back, Derek.”

The group looked at the bodies on the beds, but it was Melissa who touched them first, feeling their skin against her fingertips. She did a few tests flexing their arms and muscles, before turning to the others.

“Stiles is right. I don’t know how to explain this, but they are not really dead. They don’t show any signs of rigor mortis, which they should have by now. They’re … what are they?”

“They’re in limbo,” Deaton spoke.

“What the hell does that mean?” Scott snapped. “Are they dead, or aren’t they? Will we be able to save them or not?”

Stiles looked at his former best friend.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly.

Scott laughed bitterly.

“Well, isn’t that grand?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: The Magic

“We have to go.”

Derek glared at his watch before giving orders to the others.

“Lift Erica, Boyd and Isaac up gently and take them to the cars. We won’t leave the three of them out here alone,” he said. “Even if we stand the slightest chance of saving them, we’ll take it.”

Stiles nodded his agreement, smiling encouragingly at his boyfriend. They hadn’t been able to talk a lot today and he desperately wanted to confer with him about all of this, away from the others.

They couldn’t afford to waste much time though. The sooner everyone got to safety, the better. That was the one thing they were all in agreement on.

Four cars were standing in front of the house. Derek barked orders while he helped bring the three unconscious pack members to the vehicles. He split the groups over the vehicles, while Stiles stood in front of the house, staring at it as if it had become the enemy.

“Stiles, we need to go,” Derek spoke urgently.

The Mage nodded, knowing all too well that this was the best thing to do, even though everything in him screamed not to leave the house. He had this horrible feeling that they wouldn’t be allowed to anyhow.

The moment they left the driveway and planned to head towards the main road that would take them to the center of Beacon Hills, every single car engine sputtered and stopped working at the same time. They weren’t even able to leave the driveway.

“What the hell?” Derek muttered, getting out of his car. “What’s going on?”

“Magic,” Stiles spoke grimly, walking down the rest of the driveway towards the main road. “Stay here.”

Of course Derek didn’t. He followed the Mage towards the end of the driveway, followed by Peter and the sheriff. The others stayed with Isaac, Erica and Boyd, who lay quietly inside the cars.

Scott watched from a distance, feeling his anger build up again. He couldn’t help himself. Everything he had promised himself would not happen, did. He was getting more frustrated by the minute, blaming Stiles for everything that was going on.

He knew it was unreasonable, but he had to. He couldn’t help himself. Whatever darkness had brought this upon them, Scott knew that everything leads back to Stiles’ Mage somehow.

“What do you think is going on?” Kira asked, gazing at Isaac who lay on the backseat of their car, his head resting in Allison’s lap.

“Whatever it is, Stiles won’t be able to fix it,” Scott grumbled. “What a Mage, huh?”

“Stop bashing Stiles,” Allison spoke quietly from the back. “He’s your best friend. Or, he should be. Why are you so negative?”

“He was my best friend,” Scott said, “until the day he killed your grandfather.”

“Gerard was a murderer,” Allison whispered quietly, reprimanding Scott. “He killed for sports. Don’t think I don’t know that, Scott. Stiles killed him to save you. I’ve forgiven him for that, so why can’t you?”

“Because he shouldn’t have had to kill him,” Scott reacted sharply. “He could have resolved this peacefully.”

“Oh really?” Allison snapped. “Then tell me what you would have done, Scott. Would you have allowed Stiles to die of the roles were reversed? You know what Gerard was like. He was my grandfather, but he didn’t deserve to breathe anymore. He was a menace. He shot Stiles, do you even get that? He forced your hand so Derek would have to bite him. He has tricked us both. So, tell me: what would you have done?”

“I would have had him arrested,” Scott muttered. “I would have kept him alive.”

Allison snorted at that.

“Yeah right. Like Gerard would have himself arrested.”

“Why are you defending Stiles, Allison? Did he get into your head so much that you would refuse to see his flaws? Stiles is not perfect, you do realize that? You do see what’s going on now, don’t you? He’s brought death and spirits into this place. Do you think this is normal?”

“Nothing is normal,” Allison whispered, stroking through Isaacs hair. “But I do know that Isaac isn’t dead. We still stand a chance of saving him and Stiles is our best chance to achieve just that. I believe in his powers.”

“Don’t count on them too much,” Scott muttered under his breath, knowing all too well it was heard by Allison anyhow.

His former girlfriend cringed and then bit her lip, forcing back an angry answer. Kira didn’t say a single word, trapped between a rock and a hard place. She wanted to support Scott obviously, but it was getting harder to do so when he became so angry and bitter.

Scott got out of the car and walked over to where Derek, Stiles and his dad were. He wanted to find out what was going on, feeling left out of all the decisions.

“You coming?” he barked at Kira.

The girl didn’t say a single word when she followed, too scared to come between the former couple. She knew about their past relationship and didn’t want to interfere in their arguments. Nor did she want to intrude in the tense relationship between Scott and Stiles.

She was scared though, for both of them. She knew that any sharp words spoke would reinforce the rift between them.

As soon as Scott got out, Jackson and Lydia followed suit, as did Deaton. Melissa stayed in the car, constantly checking on Boyd and Erica, who were in the sheriff’s jeep behind her.

A group gathered behind Stiles while he walked down the driveway, feeling something burst inside of him. His Spark was warning him, but it came too late. Something invisible hit the Mage, throwing him backwards.

Stiles fell to the ground, hitting his head hard against the ground. He groaned as he got up, feeling the back of his skull gingerly.

“That was painful,” he groaned.

“You okay?” Derek asked, running over to him to help him sit up. His dad was by Stiles’ side immediately, checking him out.

“I’m fine,” Stiles said, patting them away. “but we have another problem.”

“What, apart from the fact that we seemingly can’t get out and are trapped?” Scott asked bitterly. “Can it get even worse?”

Stiles nodded, showing the palms of his hands as he looked at the wolf. Derek noticed immediately what Stiles was trying to say. He saw it in the flicker on top of his palms, in the way that he showed the lack of stability in the purple light that would normally shine brightly.

“Stiles,” the Alpha said sad. “Is it …?”

Stiles just nodded.

“I’m slowly losing my magic.”

Derek helped Stiles to stand up and watched him closely, seeing the color drain from his face. He was in obvious pain, touching his head carefully.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Stiles said.

Standing in group, Stiles looked at his pack, knowing he couldn’t protect them from this. They were in greater danger than he at first thought. Even more so, Scott, his former best friend, was changing into the aggressive form of him again. He saw it when he watched the wolf lose his temper. Scott was impacted by the darkness.

“You’re telling me that this, whatever it is, is so powerful that you’ve lost your magic abilities?” Scott snapped. “That’s just great, isn’t it?”

Stiles nodded calmly.

“So, all this talk of you being so powerful meant nothing?” Scott barked. “It’s all just a bunch of lies, isn’t it? Maybe you weren’t so strong to begin with.”

Stiles shrugged, taking the man’s words for granted. He knew that arguing with Scott would be pointless.

“Stop snapping at Stiles,” Derek shouted. “Scott, if you don’t like what’s going on, get the hell out of here. I don’t want you hear if you’re going to act like a spoiled little brat.”

“Well, it doesn’t seem you’re going to get rid of me that easily, now does it?” Scott reacted coolly. “We’re all trapped.”

The others startled at his words. They hadn’t even thought about that yet.

“Stiles, is this true?” the sheriff asked. “Are we trapped?”

“I’m afraid so, dad,” Stiles said. “For now, I am assuming that the entrapment goes over the whole domain. I need to figure out a spell to undo the dark magic and get us all through the barrier.”

“Stiles.”

The Pack turned towards Deaton, who stepped forward with his arms stretched out. To the surprise of the others, he was able to move through the invisible barrier keep Stiles and the supernatural beings in.

“What the hell,” Scott muttered, watching how the vet was able to cross the barrier without a single problem.

“Dad, can you try?” Stiles asked, looking at his father.

The sheriff did as he was told, shaking his head lightly when he noticed he too could cross it. So could Melissa, who got out of the car to try it out.

“Derek?”

Stiles looked at the Alpha, who had the same problem as them. He too could not cross.

Peter couldn’t either. He tried, but he was stopped by a blast of the barrier, throwing him backwards immediately. The other shapeshifters tried too, all stopped immediately.

“Okay, so this thing is trapping only the supernatural beings,” Stiles said, looking at Allison. “Can you try too?”

The huntress made the same move as the adults did, but she was pushed back, as if the barrier didn’t allow her to cross it.

 “Why me too?” Allison asked. “I don’t have any magic in me.”

“Because of your relationship with Isaac and Scott,” Stiles spoke quietly. “I think that you are considered a Pack member, which means that you are stuck here too. But, the good news is that Deaton, my dad and Melissa can get out and be safe.”

“Do you really think I’m going to leave you guys to our own devices?” the sheriff spoke sharply. “Stiles, come on.”

“Dad, I need you to be okay,” Stiles said firmly.

“Yes, and I will do that right here. It’s like you said, Stiles. You are all in big trouble and I’m not. If I’m allowed to pass the barrier, I won’t be affected by this thing. Which means that I can keep you all alive and safe.”

“He’s right,” Melissa. “So can I. I’m staying too.”

“Mom, no,” Scott said sharply, but Stiles hesitated, knowing that Melissa had a point. There was too many of them and they need more than one adult to watch over them.

“Stiles, you can’t be serious about this!” Scott yelled. “What if something happens to my mom? I won’t forgive you for that.”

“Scott, honey,” Melissa spoke quietly, looking at her son. “I promise you I’ll be okay, but I need to keep an eye out on you until you guys figure out what the hell is going on. You know that you need me here.”

Melissa and Noah walked quietly back through the barrier, looking at the teenagers and Derek. Scott sighed while he threw himself into his mother’s arms, knowing there was no point in arguing with her.

“I’ll be fine, honey,” she said quietly.

Scott didn’t believe her. Stiles hugged his dad fiercely, knowing he couldn’t change his mind.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Deaton spoke, looking at the sheriff and Melissa. “I need to get back to my office and figure this whole thing out, but you have to stay here and help everyone. Stiles, Derek, I suggest you look for a safe spot to keep everyone together while we do our research. Stiles, do you still have internet access?”

“I haven’t checked,” Stiles muttered, reaching for his phone. “I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought,” Deaton frowned. “Let me try my phone.”

Standing on the other side of the barrier, the vet tried to call Scott and Stiles, but to no avail. The signal was blocked. They were literally cut off from the outside world.

“Great,” Scott muttered angrily. “We are unreachable then.”

“We are,” Stiles said. “I need to figure out other ways of getting my powers up to speed again. For now, I want to try out a couple of spells to lift the barrier.”

Deaton walked back through the barrier and headed for his car. He knew he would be able to use it since he was on his own. As expected, the vehicle started up without any problems.

“Be careful though,” Deaton spoke. “Don’t waste too much energy that you can’t afford to lose right now. You might wind up needing it.”

“I’ll be careful,” Stiles said. “Come back to us, doc.”

“Will do,” Deaton said, casting a last gaze at them before he shut the door of his car and drove through the barrier.

Stiles turned around and looked at the others, sighing deeply. Scott was the only one looking angry at him, while the others wore a sense of defeat on their faces.

“What’s going on, Stiles?” Lydia asked quietly. “I feel death lurking about, but it’s impossible for me to say who will be next. What does that mean?”

He looked back sadly, sensing her sadness through the pack bonds.

“I’m afraid that it became impossible to predict what will happen next,” he explained. “It’s like this darkness is taking over the whole place, preventing us from protecting each other against it. I can’t tell you who’s next, but I can tell that it’s not over yet.”

“What does that even mean?” Scott snapped. “Don’t go all Deaton on me, Stiles. What the hell is going on here? What have you done back there, when you killed Gerard? What haven’t you told us?”

“It wasn’t him,” Lydia reacted coolly. “Didn’t you hear anything that was said before, Scott? It all started with Gerard, so if anyone’s to blame for all of this, it should be you.”

“Seriously, Lydia?” Scott raised an eyebrow as he eyed her angrily. “Are we back there again?”

“Why not?” Jackson reacted coolly. “If you hadn’t made that deal, Stiles wouldn’t have been hurt. He wouldn’t have become the Mage and he wouldn’t have had to kill Gerard. So yes, this is on you.”

“Good,” Scott grunted, showing his claws. “You want to go that way? Then let’s go that way. Show me what you’ve got, Jackson. Show me how angry you are. Come on, take it out on me.”

“Hey. Hey!” Stilinski stepped between the two wolves before they could go at each other’s throats and pushed a hand against each chest.

“Don’t you boys think we’ve got other things to do right now?” Melissa snapped, showing her coolest gaze. “This is not the time nor the place for an argument like this. Stop this right now. I suggest that you patch things up and that you start working together instead of blaming each other.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Jackson snapped. “Right, McCall?”

The disdain in his eyes said enough. Scott turned pale, but he withdrew his claws and decided not to pursue the discussion. They were right: this was not the time or place.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Yeah right,” Jackson reacted, but the argument stopped when Stiles shot him a warning gaze. The Mage ran his hands through his hair and looked at the pack members, knowing they were slowly losing it.

The Pack was losing it. Maybe that’s just what their enemies wanted.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: The Water

It wasn’t even noon yet, but already it felt to the Pack as if they had been struggling for days with their situation. Everyone was bereft, silent and at the end of their wits. They were trapped and the only one who could help them, was Deaton. If he even could.

Stiles could feel the fear lingering above them all. He was numb by the situation, too scared to make a move that could cause another rift between them all. Derek placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, but even the connection with his Alpha didn’t help at all.

Only last night their only concern had been organizing a wedding. Now, they knew that time was running out quickly and a wedding was the furthest thing away from their minds.

Everyone stood around waiting, not knowing what to do next. Even Scott calmed down, only to look around with an angry gaze in his eyes. He kept his mouth shut though once he noticed Derek’s anger.

Everyone wanted Stiles to make the first move, including his dad, who nudged him briefly. It seemed to shake him out of his numbness at least.

“Why don’t you take Isaac, Erica and Boyd inside the house?” Stiles finally said after clearing his throat. “Keep them with you, make sure they’re comfortable and have them know you’re nearby. If they feel the Pack bonds, they might react to it and wake on their own accounts.”

“Yeah right, fat chance of that happening,” Scott muttered under his breath, causing Allison to hit him in the arm. She had enough of his antics for one day.

The others had heard it too, but they didn’t react, except for Stiles, who looked sad when he gazed at Scott, as if he couldn’t comprehend who the teenager was anymore.

“Look, blaming each other won’t work, okay?” Stiles continued silently. “I know you blame me for this, Scott and maybe you’re even right, but throwing accusations in my direction won’t solve the situation.”

Scott opened his mouth, only to be punched in the arm by Jackson, who threw him a warning gaze. When the teenager looked around, he saw all the others moving protectively towards Stiles, making it clear to him that they had the Mage’s back.

“Go in the house, grab some food, get your strengths up and stick together,” Stiles said. I’ll stay here and work on my incantations. I have a few things up my sleeve I want to try out. They may not be of much good, but at least they won’t harm either. Lydia, would you mind going upstairs and getting my books out? I might need your help on this.”

“I’ll help too,” Jackson said, walking inside the house with Lydia. “I won’t leave her out of my sight for one second.”

Lydia smiled and squeezed Jackson’s hand gratefully. The two of them had become quite close over the past months, helped mostly by a very much changed Jackson.

“Thanks,” Stiles reacted gratefully, smiling at Jackson.

He was already thinking about a few spells he hadn’t tried out before but knew might do the trick. Derek watched how his mind wandered off already, even while still standing there.

Waking the three semi-dead Pack members won’t work. Stiles knew that he could only stand to win if he fought the dark magic and lifted that from them. For that, he would have to try out some of his magic tricks.

“Derek, do me a favor and bring everyone inside,” he spoke calmly to his boyfriend, when nobody moved at first. “It’s important that you’re not around for this.”

“And leave you alone?” Derek frowned. “I don’t think so, Stiles. I’m staying with you. I won’t allow you to take any risks to solve this. This is not your fault. Don’t let Scott tell you that.”

“Derek, I need you to take care of the others for me, okay?” Stiles whispered, knowing they would hear him nonetheless. “Please go back to the house. I need to focus anyhow and Lydia and Jackson will be back in a few moments. They’ll help me.”

“Are you sure?” Derek frowned.

Stiles pulled Derek aside, staring into his eyes.

“Look, they’re all losing it, okay?” he whispered. “They need their Alpha. God knows even Scott knows, probably even more than anyone else. I need you to make sure that everyone is kept safe so I can focus on the magic. Can you do that for me?”

“I will,” Derek said, “but I don’t like leaving you alone outside, even if you’re not alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” Stiles smiled. “It’s just that I need to do this while I still can. If I’m really losing my magic, so I won’t have much time to use whatever may help here. Please, Derek.”

“Okay,” the Alpha sighed reluctantly.

Derek helped retrieve the three bodies from the cars and carried them inside with the help of the others. The sheriff and Peter took the lead in guiding the others inside, knowing all too well Stiles didn’t need them around to focus on his magic.

Especially Scott, who made it quite clear who he blamed for this, turned out to be a bad influence on Stiles’ ease of mind.

Stiles watched after his friends before focusing on the work at hand, knowing he needed his full concentration for this.

Lydia and Jackson walked outside with books in their hands, which they placed on a small table next to Stiles. They kept a close eye on Stiles while he gently pushed his hands against the invisible barrier.

It became very quiet in the Preserve. Stiles closed his eyes and focused while he cast spell after spell, which didn’t work. Then he used the books with Lydia and Jackson by his side, rummaging through the pages in search of the right incantation that would lift the darkness.

A splitting headache settled in. Stiles rubbed his forehead while he focused on his magic. Nothing worked. He could feel the darkness against him. It was strong. It frustrated him. He sat down on the grass and went through one of his most trusted books, reading page after page while trying out spell after spell.

An hour passed without any results.

“I need something to eat,” Stiles muttered after a while, getting up from the grass. “Be right back.”

Lydia and Jackson were busy reading in magic books and hardly even noticed he walked into the house. They were talking to one another, discussing what they could do to help.

“Everything okay?” Derek asked, watching Stiles carefully as he walked into the kitchen to grab a sandwich. The others were scattered in small groups around the house, taking care of the three pack members they had already lost and each other.

“Nothing’s working,” Stiles spoke somberly. “How’s it going here?”

“No change in their conditions, but Melissa is monitoring them closely. She says that they are indeed not going into rigor mortis. They’re more like china dolls right now, or like Sleeping Beauties. It’s really weird to see. How can someone be dead and not-dead at the same time?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles shrugged, “but we all have seen so much that nothing surprises me anymore. It does give me hope that we’ll figure this out. As long as they are not dead, they stand a chance to live.”

He swallowed down his sandwich, wiped his hands and gave Derek a hug before walking back outside.

“Be careful,” Derek called after him.

“Always,” Stiles said.

Outside, Stiles walked around the corner of the house to come to a complete standstill when he saw the scene unfolded before him.

A shock ran through him. Lydia lay unconscious on the grass, bleeding from a gash in her forehead. Jackson was nowhere to be seen. Stiles knew that he had made a big mistake leaving them alone.

“Derek!” Stiles screamed as loud as he could, before he started into a run.

He didn’t wait for a reply, nor did he wait for the others to follow him. Nor did he check if Lydia was still alive, because he knew that she was. This wasn’t about her, it was about Jackson.

There was no time. Stiles stood for one long moment still on the grass, focusing on his bond with Jackson. He had become quite close to him over the past months, which would help now.

Stiles muttered a tracking spell which lead his feet into the right direction. Jackson hadn’t gone far yet. He could feel him tugging at his insides, as if he was trying to tell him something. Stiles followed his gut feeling, running as fast as he could over the large Hale-domain.

The pond. The body of water that lay between the trees, which had been restored to its old beauty the moment he had fixed the house. They often went there because it was a peaceful place they all loved so much.

“Stiles!” he heard Derek shout far behind him.

Stiles knew Derek wasn’t alone, but he couldn’t wait for him. He had to find Jackson before it was too late.

“Over here!” he screamed without losing his tempo. He muttered another spell that sent him running even faster over the preserve.

“We’re on our way,” Derek called back. “Where are you?”

“The pond. Get to the water,” Stiles shouted.

He could hear the growls of the wolves as they shifted into their beta-shapes to go faster, but again he didn’t wait for them to catch up on him.

Stiles used all of his remaining magic to run as fast as he could through the woods, knowing every second counted. Until he reached the water.

He ran to the water, knowing he had found Jackson. The teenager who had bullied him for years, only to become one of his best friends later on, drifted below the water surface, without even fighting back death.

Stiles felt the darkness cloaking the wolf as much as if it was happening to him. Jackson was being held underwater by unseen forces.

Stiles felt the tug as soon as he threw himself fully clothed into the water and reached below the surface for his friend, knowing he would never be able to reach him. Every time he tried, Jackson drifted further away.

Stiles resurfaced and planted his feet firmly to the ground, trying this way to move forward. He struggled hard against the invisible enemies, whispering spell after spell while he tried to save Jackson from the darkest grip that one could imagine.

He allowed his Mage to resurface, using the darkness inside of him in a failing attempt to fight against the forces holding onto Jackson. The Mage battled against them for Jackson’s life.

Stiles felt as he couldn’t move forward, as if he wasn’t able to pull him from the depths of the water. The pond was shallow, but Jackson didn’t put his feet on the ground to push himself up. It might have been a deep river too.

Stiles reached out for Jackson while his feet tried to find a grip on the muddy underground again, slipping away all the time whenever he tried to move.

The Mage cast spell after spell, but they were all evaded by the enemy. The forces held him back until a bout of wind threw him away from Jackson, sending him reeling back as if he weighed nothing. Stiles fell backwards in the water, swallowing water before striking his head hard against the rocky edge of the pond.

The teenager groaned as he finally felt himself go underwater too. The invisible forces kept him below the surface. Stiles fought hard to find the right spell he could use to save his own life and Jackson’s, only to realize that he had no magic left.

He was human again.

The forces pushed him down harder, until Stiles felt his lungs burst and his mouth open once again to allow the murky water into his lungs and stomach. The last thing Stiles saw before he lost consciousness, was Jackson’s body drifting before him. His eyes were wide open.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: No happy endings

“Stiles! Stiles, wake up.”

A hand gently slapped Stiles’ face, causing him to groan. The teenager muttered something under his breath as he tried to pry his eyes open, failing to do so at first.

Derek' heart beat with relief when he noticed that his boyfriend, lying next to the pond, reacted. Noah Stilinski exhaled audibly too when he saw his son’s slight moves, followed by Stiles’ shaking hand going to touch the back of his head gingerly.

“Thank god,” the man whispered, still holding one hand on his son’s chest.

Stiles was soaked to the bone and freezing cold. Derek turned him on his side. The teenager coughed and groaned while he spat out filthy water, until his lungs were able to catch air and his stomach didn’t feel as if it was going to contract painfully once more. His eyes remained closed, as if he was acting on instinct.

“Are you okay, kiddo?” his dad asked, rubbing gentle circles on his back. “Talk to me, son.”

Stiles opened his eyes and stared at Jackson, lying next to him on the ground. Melissa and Peter were working on the werewolf, performing CPR. So far, they had no reaction from the wolf, which troubled them.

“He should be healing,” Derek muttered, without looking over his shoulder. “Jackson should be okay. His lungs should not be clogged with water.”

“It’s magic,” Stiles croaked.

His voice sounded rough, as if he had just eaten pebbles.

“He’s not supposed to live,” the sheriff whispered, understanding his son immediately. “Something’s holding Jackson’s healing back.”

Their words made Melissa cringe, but she didn’t stop performing CPR. They wouldn’t give up on Jackson, but it was hard to believe in a happy ending right now.

Lydia, supported by Kira, Scott and Allison, stood quietly behind them, watching the scene before them. The Banshee was crying and calling out Jackson’s name. They saw the scream on her lips. She held her mouth shut, as if it would help.

“Stiles, lie down,” Derek said when his boyfriend tried to get up.

Stiles refused of course. He pushed Derek’s hands away firmly and moved up as gingerly as he could. He stumbled forward on his knees immediately, as if his legs were too floppy to hold him up. His body felt weak as a puppy.

Derek grasped his arm and held Stiles tight while he half-crawled to Jackson. The Alpha understood Stiles’ need to help, but there was nothing anyone could do. Jackson was dying.

“Sit down before you pass out again,” Derek ordered, forcing Stiles gently to do as he said when the teenager threatened to collapse once more. His pallor scared the wolf, who didn’t want to end up with a dead boyfriend.

“I have to try something,” Stiles whispered. “Anything.”

“You can’t,” Derek said. “Something’s wrong with your magic.”

“I know. It’s completely gone,” Stiles croaked. “They’ve taken it all.”

Stiles’ words shocked the others. There was nothing anyone could do to save Jackson now. He had lost his magic. He couldn’t use the simplest of spells to revive Jackson.

“He’s gone,” Melissa sighed next to them, giving up on Jackson at long last with tears in her eyes. “There’s nothing we can do for him anymore.”

Lydia burst into tears again, while the others looked at the body in shock, knowing that they had failed again. They had lost Jackson and nobody even knew if this was a permanent death or a temporary one.

Stiles buried his face between his hands while he groaned lightly, shaking his head. He felt like crap, like his lungs were burning from the inside out and his body was about to give up too. He tried to get up but couldn’t. Every single move hurt.

“Stiles,” Derek whispered, holding his boyfriend before he slumped to the ground, kissing it with his forehead. “Relax. You’ll be fine if you take it easy.”

Stiles looked up, as pale as he never been before. His face was stark white, almost void of color. Dark circles underneath his eyes showed how tired he was. They had seen him like this before, when he had overdone himself. Like hell Derek would allow for that to happen again.

Sheriff Stilinski's shock was apparent when he saw the condition his son was in. Stiles had used too much of his physical strength while trying out his spells and then battling the unseen enemy he could never defeat. Plus, if his words rang true, he had lost his powers.

Whatever darkness worked so fast and so strong it would take away these powers?

“I can’t relax,” Stiles grunted. “Need to do something, Der. We’re dying. We’re all slowly dying.”

His desperate words shocked them all, but it was the blood on the back of Stiles’ head that startled the sheriff the most. He hadn’t seen that when he had been reviving his son with Derek’s help.

“Kid,” he whispered, grazing Stiles’ skull gently. “You bumped your head pretty badly. Take it easy, alright?”

The sheriff beckoned Melissa closer, but Stiles didn’t notice. He was too far gone in his thoughts, trying to figure this thing out. Only when Melissa approached, did he realize his father wasn’t going to listen to him.

“I’m fine, dad, but Jackson isn’t,” the teenager croaked with closed eyes, fighting the urge to throw up the sandwich he had devoured just minutes earlier. “He’s gone.”

“I know, kiddo,” the sheriff whispered.

“I couldn’t help him, dad,” Stiles whispered in tears. “I tried to use my powers and they failed on me. I’ve lost them, dad. I’ve lost them all. Jackson never stood a chance and we’re going to lose them all.”

Stiles buried himself against Derek’s chest, leaning into him, clutching his shirt and jacket. The other stood quietly, listening without saying a word. The whole area reeked of death. Nobody dared to look at Jackson’s still body and closed eyes.

“Why couldn’t I help him, dad?” Stiles wept, rubbing past his eyes. “He was alive when I got here.”

“I know, Stiles,” the sheriff spoke, shocked by Stiles’ shattered tone of voice. “We’ll figure this thing out, okay? This is not your fault.”

“He was gone, right in front of me,” Stiles murmured quietly, reliving it, as if he didn’t hear his father speak. He shook, shivering with cold that framed his form. “I couldn’t do a single thing to save him. They kept him in the water. I should never have left them alone in the garden.”

“It wasn’t you that caused this,” Lydia spoke quietly, her eyes fixed upon Jackson’s body. She was the only one who looked at her dead boyfriend, as if her eyes could bring him back to life.

“It wasn’t yours either,” Derek spoke, understanding the Banshee’s underlying meaning.

“I was knocked out by something I couldn’t see,” Lydia spoke with a small voice. “We were both powerless. It happened so fast. Is he really dead, Stiles? I don’t feel the urge to scream anymore.”

“You don’t?” Derek looked at her in shock.

She nodded. “Does that mean he’s not really dead?”

“It means that he’s in the same state of undead as the others,” Stiles said, his eyes suddenly shining brightly. “It means we still stand a chance, Der.”

“Are you sure?” Scott asked wearily. “He looks … well, you know.”

“Trust me for once, Scott,” Stiles spoke hoarsely, looking at his former best friend. “I can’t even begin to explain it, but something’s telling me that he is not-dead too, despite the drowning. We need to bring him back to the house and get him to safety until we find a way to bring him back too, along with them.”

“I’m not sure that …” Scott began.

“Shut your mouth, Scott,” Peter snapped, losing his grip. “Instead of commenting all the time, I suggest you do something useful for a change.”

Scott bit his lip when Peter pushed him and the others away. The wolf lifted Jackson into his arms and walked him gently back to the house. The teenager’s head rested against Peter’s chest.

The others followed suit, except for Melissa, the sheriff and Derek, who surrounded Stiles, still shaking and in shock. He sat on the ground, leaning into Derek, still clutching his shirt. He couldn’t move an inch. Melissa pushed her fingers gently against his throat.

“Erratic and too fast heartbeat,” Derek muttered. “I don’t need to be a doctor to hear it too. He’s heading straight for a gigantic panic attack.”

“How is all of this even possible?” the sheriff asked quietly. “Jackson drowned. How can he still be alive then?”

“I don’t know, dad,” Stiles said, “but whatever this is, it’s an old power. Something with so much might, is killing without remorse. I’m not even sure if it’s one or several beings, but I do know I was stopped me before I could help Jackson. They need him though, just like the others.”

“Need him, for what?” Stilinski asked shocked. “Stiles, what could possibly be the reason behind all of this?”

“I don’t know yet,” Stiles murmured. “We’re going to need to do this the old-fashioned ways. Ever watched Grimm, dad?”

The sheriff looked at his son without understanding.

“Books,” Derek spoke in his place. “We’re going to need my mother’s old books. The ones they’ve been looking into right now, don’t go back far enough.”

“Exactly,” Stiles said, gazing at Derek with pride. “You actually got the connection with Grimm right. I’m so proud of you, man.”

Derek couldn’t help but smile, obviously not adding he loved the show tremendously. Stiles had insisted he should give it a shot.

“Weren’t your mother’s books burned with the fire?” Melissa asked gently. “I’m not trying to be insensitive here, but…”

“No, they were in the basement in boxes when the fire happened,” Derek explained. “I managed to salvage most of them and put them in storage after the fire. We brought them back here a few weeks ago. They have their own spot in our library now.”

“Perfect,” Stiles said. “Let’s get to it then.”

The teenager stood and swayed on his legs, realizing that he had really hit his head pretty badly this time. It was the second time in a few hours, making him see stars when he got up. He felt like puking, but like he was going to tell Derek or his dad that.

“Are you okay?” Derek asked troubled.

“Yep,” Stiles groaned. “No time to waste and all.”

“Take it easy,” his dad warned, “you hit your head for a second time, didn’t you? What are you not telling us?”

“Stiles, sit down,” Melissa ordered, but they all knew he wouldn’t listen.

“My skull can take a hit or two,” Stiles reacted, even though his face was filled with an expression of pain. “I need to get to those books,” he muttered, before turning around and vomiting on the ground.

“You’re not going anywhere like this, kiddo,” his dad said, reaching for his son, while looking at Melissa, who moved forward to probe his head and examine his face and eyes.

“You’re obviously concussed,” she said. “You need to rest, kiddo.”

“No time,” Stiles sighed.

He took one step forward and sunk through his knees immediately, almost cracking his skull on the ground.

“That was one step too far,” Derek grunted, grasping his boyfriend before he hit the ground.

Derek felt Stiles' weight fall against him as soon as the teenager lost consciousness.

“Stiles!” the sheriff exclaimed.

“He’ll be fine, Noah. He just needs to rest a bit,” Melissa hushed him. “Derek, can you bring him inside the house?”

The wolf had already lifted Stiles bridal style and carried him back to the house, followed by the sheriff and Melissa. Stiles’ forehead leaned against the wolf’s chest. He was gone to the world for now. Nothing would wake him up right now.
 
The sheriff sighed, wiping his forehead while he gazed at his son, knowing he had overdone himself big time this time. And the bad thing was, that they needed him to wake up fast.