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Stiles found his answer not, as one might guess, in a book on magic but in a book by Thornton Wilder. The Ides of March -- a book purportedly about Julius Ceasar's Rome -- gave him the information he needed. The 'Ceremonies of the Good Goddess,' held in December, was what he needed to -- hopefully -- fix everything.
Stiles held on to life and sanity by his fingernails and sheer stubbornness to get to the full moon in December. He got lucky that the full moon this year was December 2. There would be a 'blue moon' at the end of the month but he knew that he couldn't hang on that long.
Everyone that was important to him was gone. His dad... he couldn't even think about the treachery that led to his death. Derek, Malia, Cora, Melissa... gone. Peter was essentially feral and wouldn't come out of his wolf form. Lydia and Jackson had died trying to protect Chris -- Chris had lived long enough to take out the Hunters who hunted him.
Stiles was near-feral himself, camping out in the woods near the old Hale house and living on whatever scraps he could find. (Fortunately, the cooks at the diner would often 'throw out' meals when they saw him in town. And what was left of the Sheriff's department would ignore him, mostly out of pity.) Derek had had the house torn down but didn't have a chance to rebuild it before he was murdered. The memory of Derek living in the ruined house helped him hold on.
The Hale Alpha spark should have gone back to Peter with Derek's death but it didn't. Peter wasn't an Alpha but somehow Scott held on to his supposed True Alpha status. The last Stiles had seen Scott or anyone from the so-called 'McCall Pack,' Theo had been laughing with Scott over the chaos in the Preserve. It wasn't their problem since people weren't dying in town.
"They should know better than to go into the woods," Theo had said. The Pack was in Scott's back yard, drinking around a small campfire. With Melissa gone, most of the Pack had moved in with Scott. Supposedly, it was to 'console' him in his grief but there had been more parties than anything. Stiles wondered who paid the bills since most of them weren't working. Melissa probably had some insurance money but that wouldn't last forever. Stiles would laugh himself silly if they were evicted from the house.
"That's right!" Scott nodded in agreement, raising his beer in salute.
Liam's eyes had gotten wide at that point and he glanced to where Stiles was hiding. Stiles suspected Theo knew he was watching but it was obvious that Scott had no idea. Stiles quietly backed further into the neighbor's bushes he was in and quietly left before Scott and Theo got any ideas. None of which would be good.
Finally it was December 2. Stiles had managed to scavenge what he needed for the ceremony and hauled everything to the Nemeton. It would be moon-rise soon.
As he lit the candles to start the ceremony, he heard a twig break. He looked around to see blue eyes watching him from the woods.
"You can come with me, you know," Stiles offered conversationally. "I have enough for two. I was hoping you'd come."
The wolf moved a few steps closer to Stiles as he continued to light candles. Stiles could see he was thin and scarred.
"I don't know what's really going to happen but it's got to be better than this," Stiles went on as he lay out the 'offerings' -- a dead rabbit, seven springs of thyme, a handful of carnations he had stolen from the florist in town. His dad's Sheriff badge. A shirt that he knew Derek had worn.
The wolf whined.
"It won't be perfect but I can't go on like this," Stiles said. "I won't let them win. If nothing else, we can stop them."
The wolf crept closer and settled next to Stiles.
"We can do anything," Stiles said. "I need to believe that and so do you."
With a cracking noise, the wolf changed. A naked Peter Hale sat next to him. Stiles could count his ribs, even in the moonlight.
"Believe." Peter's voice was hoarse from disuse but firm. He nodded.
Stiles took Peter's calloused hand and started the incantation he had found.
Wind whipped around them. The candles guttered out. Clouds scurried across the moon, dropping them into darkness. Stiles could see only Peter's blue eyes and feel his warm hand as the wind increased.
Everything went black.
Stiles groaned as he came to. He was still in the woods, sprawled in a bed of leaves.
"Stiles, come on! I think it's your dad!" Scott called urgently.
Stiles looked around. Scott! He scrambled to his feet.
He stared for a moment and was heartened to see sixteen-year-old Scott! He looked down at his scrawny self. It worked! "Stay here! Let my dad find you and blame me!" Stiles said.
"What are you doing?" Scott said in a panic. He started to wheeze.
"Scott. Use your inhaler and STAY HERE!" Stiles commanded. He put a thread of belief in that.
Scott looked up, then nodded. He dug into his pocket and took a hit on his inhaler. "Okay, okay. My mom's going to kill me!"
Better her than me. Stiles thought to himself.
"Tell my dad or whoever finds you that we got separated!" Stiles said as he took off toward where Peter should be.
"Stiles!" Scott protested but Stiles ignored him.
Stiles ran through the woods, huffing and puffing as he went but he knew he had to get to the Hale house to stop Peter. He promised himself he'd start working out tomorrow, assuming he could do what was needed tonight.
He found them where Derek had buried her. Laura was on the ground and a deformed wolf that he knew was Peter loomed over her.
"PETER! STOP!" Stiles shouted.
The deformed wolf changed to a beta-shift. But the claws were still out, ready to strike. "Why should I?" Peter growled without looking at him.
"I didn't do this so you could kill her!"
"I'm entitled to my revenge!" Peter snarled.
"Yes, you are! But not this way!"
Peter finally looked at him. "Stiles?" He shifted back to his human form.
"Yes. Now, move away from Laura," Stiles commanded. "Let me take care of this."
Stiles could see the wheels turn in Peter's head as memories of the future returned. He reluctantly took a step back. Then two.
Laura snarled from her position on the ground. "What are you doing? I'm the Alpha!"
Stiles moved closer, still huffing from the run. "And a piss-poor Alpha at that!"
Her head whipped toward him. "What? How dare you?"
"You think you've lost everything? You think life is hard?" Stiles laughed grimly. "You haven't seen anything." He took a step closer.
Laura sprang to her feet. "You don't know anything!" she roared.
"Oh, I know too much!" Stiles took a last step toward her and held his hand out. "Affiaro spitha!" Stiles held his breath as he believed with all his might.
A globe of sickly red light came from her chest and Laura's eyes opened wide. "Witch!"
"Spark. Not a witch," Stiles corrected absently. The light settled in Stiles' hands. He looked at it and cooed, "You poor thing. It'll be fine, I believe in you." He held the light against his chest. "You'll need some care and feeding but it'll be better."
Laura and Peter stood motionless in a silent tableau. Stiles caressed the ball as he hummed tunelessly at it and the color swirled to a brighter red. "There you are! See! You just needed to get away from her! You feel so much better!"
"What have you done?" Laura screeched.
"What needed to be done!" Stiles replied easily. He looked at Peter and tossed the red ball to him. Without thinking, Peter reached out and caught it. Soundlessly, it sunk into his hands.
Peter groaned. He buckled over and fell to his knees. When he looked up, his eyes were red. He got up and stood tall.
"See! That's better!" Stiles clapped his hands.
"What did you do?" Laura whined. Her eyes shone blue.
Interesting! Stiles thought.
"Laura." Peter said firmly, a rumble coming from his chest.
"Uncle Peter?" Laura whined again, but softer.
"Come here." A firm command but the rumble continued.
Laura took a step toward Peter and then threw herself at him. "Uncle Peter! I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" She started sobbing in his arms.
Stiles nodded at Peter, who nodded back at him.
"Come find me tomorrow. We'll start planning your revenge," Stiles said softly knowing Peter could hear him. He backed away, toward his father who he was now desperate to see. Being grounded for the rest of his life would be a small price to pay for this second chance.
Oh. Fuck. He sighed. He was sixteen again. "After school." Early graduation was now higher on his list.
Red eyes danced in merriment.