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Belladonna
Known by many names: banewort, witch’s berry, sorcerer's berry, deadly nightshade, death's herb, and devil's cherries, belladonna is a highly toxic plant. In the proper doses, the herb can be used to encourage astral projection or to produce visions, though it is best to be avoided. As every part of the plant is extremely poisonous, neither leaves, berries, nor root should be handled if there are any cuts or abrasions on the hands.
This herb is associated with Saturn and with water, and is representative of the feminine. It is used in funeral rites in order to help the deceased let go and move forward, and despite its toxic character, it can be used successfully as a sedative, though dogs and cats are especially susceptible to the poison.
* * *
Derek and Stiles were standing outside of their tent with their arms crossed, staring at the other three tents. The stench of sex in the glen was almost overwhelming, and even now they were struggling to keep themselves from diving back in and tearing each other’s clothes off.
“Well I guess now we know how the flowers protect themselves,” Stiles observed with a sardonic grin. “Anything that gets too close is suddenly too interested in mating to be bothered with eating them.”
Derek huffed a laugh.
“Okay, I have to ask,” Stiles began carefully. “Who’s where?”
Derek jerked his chin forward towards the tent in front of them, “Allison and Scott.” He nodded to the right, “Isaac, Erica, and Boyd.” Turning his head to the left, he sniffed and chuckled, “Danny and Kaede.”
Stiles laughed. “What?! No way!” He started to walk towards their tent, but Derek hooked his finger into Stiles’ hoodie and jerked him back.
“Leave them alone,” Derek chided, as Stiles flailed to keep his balance.
“You’re no fun,” Stiles said, frowning at him.
Derek smiled and kissed the frown off of Stiles’ lips, pulling back when Stiles started getting a little too into it.
Stiles lifted his hands in surrender. “Okay, what do we do, now?” he asked.
“We need to move our tent farther away,” Derek answered. “We won’t be able to guard it if we’re thinking about sex all the time.”
Stiles scrunched his lips to the side and squinted, thinking as he stared at Derek’s face. He glanced at the flower, glanced back at Derek, glanced at the flower, and then back at Derek again. “Do we have to?” he asked.
Derek laughed and shook his head. “Yes.”
Dropping his shoulders and letting out an exasperated sigh, Stiles let himself fall forward, face planting into Derek. “Fine, but after this is all done, we are spending a week camping next to this flower,” he mumbled into Derek’s chest.
Derek continued shaking his head as Stiles went back into the tent to start packing up their things.
When everyone else woke up, Derek having to interrupt the beginning of a morning three-way between Isaac, Erica, and Boyd, Stiles had them all gather some distance away from the flower. Danny and Kaede kept giving each other confused, guilty looks.
“Okay,” Stiles began, “so it looks like everyone had some fun last night.” He was actively not looking at Danny and Kaede. Allison groaned in annoyance and Erica rolled her eyes. “Which is fine!” Stiles continued. “Go sex! But, Derek thinks, and I guess I agree with him, that we need to move our tents away from the flower so that we can guard it without getting…distracted.”
“Did we really have to have a meeting about this?” asked Boyd.
“For the record,” Isaac added, “you two are gross.”
Scott was nodding vigorously while Stiles busied himself looking scandalized.
“We didn’t hear you, okay?!” Stiles exclaimed, gesturing furiously at the flower while Derek covered his face with his hand. “There was like an actual, genuine sex pollen incident last night that we don’t need to bring up again, ever. Ever!”
Everyone grumbled and parted ways to break camp.
“I think that went well,” Stiles said.
“You’re an inspiration,” Derek replied, walking away to pull up their tent stakes.
Once all of the tents were set up a “safe” distance away, Derek sent them out in pairs to patrol the preserve. He went with Stiles, Allison went with Scott, and Danny went with Kaede, leaving Isaac, Erica, and Boyd to watch over the flower.
Danny pushed a branch out of the way so that he could walk past it, and kept a firm grip on it until Kaede was past it as well.
“Thank you,” Kaede said, still avoiding Danny’s gaze.
“No problem,” Danny replied, continuing down what he assumed was a deer trail.
Danny swallowed. He’d had his fair share of one-night stands without ever thinking twice about any of them, but for some reason, this time was different. This was Kaede, whom he’d been crushing on since pretty much the first time he’d laid eyes on him. And, from what he understood, sex was a pretty regular part of a Night Flower’s job, so he didn’t understand why Kaede was acting weird all of a sudden. True, the flower throwing their libidos into overdrive complicated things a little, but in a way it made things easier, right? Like, the initial sex part was out of the way, and if they wanted something more, all they had to do was talk about it…right?
“I’m sorry about last night,” Danny began, trying to break the silence. “I guess I was a little forward.”
“There is nothing to apologize for,” Kaede said. “I enjoyed myself. Did you not?”
Finding himself inexplicably blushing, all Danny could say was, “Yeah.” He paused for a moment, trying to figure out the right way to say what he was feeling. “I just wish our first time could have been more about us wanting to do something, not just some flower making us crazy.”
Danny realized Kaede had stopped walking behind him, so he turned around. “What?”
“Does that mean you would like there to be other times?” Kaede asked.
Danny blinked and approached the Night Flower slowly. “You do realize that I’ve had a crush on you since the first time we met, right?”
Kaede gave him a guarded smile. “I like you, too, Danny Mahealani. But, I have never been in a relationship before. It is not the Night Flower way.”
“But, what about Mori’s parents?” Danny asked, giving him a quizzical look.
“Though it is not our way, it does still happen on occasion,” Kaede said with a shrug. “The Clan does not forbid it. It is only because we tend to work by ourselves, constantly traveling across the globe, that we rarely get the chance to be with someone in that way.”
“That sounds lonely,” Danny said.
Kaede nodded carefully. “It can be.”
They stared at each other for a while in silence before Danny nodded his head toward the trail. “We should probably keep moving,” he said, with a smile.
“Yes,” Kaede said, smiling back at him. He gestured down the trail with his hand. “Please, lead the way.”
Danny turned around and started walking again.
“I feel like I’m holding you back,” Danny said, after a while.
“Excuse me?” Kaede replied.
“I mean because I walk so slow,” Danny clarified. “’Cuz, you’re a Night Flower. Don’t you usually do this kind of thing a lot faster, jumping through the trees and stuff?”
“Yes,” Kaede said, “but slow is good. This way I know I am not missing anything.”
Danny looked down and smiled.
“Wait!” Kaede said suddenly, coming up behind him and placing a hand on his shoulder.
“What is it?” Danny asked, his brows knitting together in concern.
“I am sensing something,” Kaede said, holding his hand out in front of him and slowly turning in a circle. “This way!” he said, jumping off the trail and running into the trees.
Danny quickly followed, but Kaede stopped after only a few yards. They were in a small clearing, at the center of which was a large flat stone, lying on the ground. It was about four feet long and two feet wide, and came up to their knees. It was covered in what had to be dried blood. There were streaks of dark reddish brown coming down the sides, and it looked like blood had collected in the depressions on top of the stone, having long since dried into leathery flakes.
Danny’s eyes widened in surprise. “What is this?”
Kaede squinted. “There is energy here,” he said. “Malevolent energy. Come, “ he said, tugging at Danny’s arm and looking around the edges of the clearing cautiously. “We should not be here.”
Danny nodded and followed Kaede back to the campsite. They ran as fast as Danny could go. Luckily, they hadn’t gone that far. When they arrived, the only people there were Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. Erica was reading a book and Isaac and Boyd seemed to be playing a card game. All three looked up as Danny and Kaede approached.
“Have you seen any of the others?” Kaede asked.
“No,” Erica said, book marking her spot and standing up. “You’re the first ones to come back. What’s wrong?”
“We found something,” Kaede said. “A place where someone has been making blood sacrifice. It is dangerous for us to be here.”
Isaac and Boyd joined them.
“What should we do?” Boyd asked.
“Get the others and bring them back,” Kaede said. “You can find them faster with your sense of smell. I will contact my aunt and let her know what we’ve found.”
Boyd nodded. “Find Scott and Allison,” he said to Isaac and Erica. “I’ll get Derek and Stiles.”
As the three werewolves ran off into the woods, Kaede pulled out his jade mirror. Holding it in his hands, the white jade began to glow.
“Kaede?” Ayame said, after contact had been established.
“Obaasan,” Kaede said. “We may need the help of the Clan.”
“What did you find?”
“We found a site of blood sacrifice,” he replied. They heard Ayame’s sharp intake of breath. “There is a strong evil energy, there.”
“Were the sacrifices human?” Ayame asked. “Do you know what the sacrifices were for?”
“I do not know,” Kaede admitted. “I had one of the human pack members with me and it did not seem prudent to stay. I will return to the site with Stiles and Derek to find out more.”
“Based on what we already know about what is happening there, that was a wise decision,” Ayame said. “But, you must return quickly and uncover all that you can. I will contact the other elders and start making preparations. I fear we may be joining you soon. May the shadows keep you.”
“May the shadows keep you,” Kaede said.
The light faded and Kaede put the mirror away. He heard rustling in the distance. “The others are almost here,” he told Danny.
“You and your aunt seem pretty worried,” Danny said.
Kaede nodded. “I have a feeling things are worse than we anticipated.”
Danny’s eyebrows shot up. “We were already worried that the world was going to end. How much worse could it be?”
Kaede shrugged noncommittally. The others entered the glen, saving him from having to speculate.
“Did Boyd tell you what we found?” he asked Derek and Stiles. They both nodded. “Follow me,” he said. “The rest of you, stay here and guard the flower.”
Erica started to bristle at someone from outside of the pack telling them what to do, but Derek flashed his eyes at her, and she backed down. Regardless, Kaede was already running. Derek motioned for Stiles to climb onto his back, and once Stiles had a firm grip around his neck, he took off after Kaede.
They arrived at the clearing after a few short minutes.
“There’s death here,” Derek said, as Stiles got down from his back.
“Human?” asked Kaede.
Derek nodded.
Stiles approached the stone cautiously. “This is bad, guys,” he said, squinting at the dried blood. “There’s a lot of power here, and it wasn’t being used for anything good.”
Derek got closer to the rock, nostrils flaring. “A lot of people died here,” he said, sounding angry. “I can’t even tell how many, at least a dozen.”
“I don’t understand,” Stiles said. “Why would a forest spirit do this?”
“A forest spirit would not do this,” Kaede said. “Forest spirits are the essence of life. They encourage growth, reproduction and prosperity. This makes no sense.” He turned to Derek. “Can you smell Bill Welles here?”
Derek took a deep breath, though it seemed to pain and disgust him to do so. He nodded grimly to Kaede and Stiles.
Kaede began to pace, one hand rubbing the lower half of his face as he thought.
“Is there anything special about this rock?” Stiles asked. “Why would he do this here, in this spot?”
Kaede looked at the rock. “I do not know. There is power here, but I cannot tell if it was here already, or if his blood magic has caused it.”
Stiles walked up to rock and slowly reached out a finger to touch it.
“Stiles,” Derek said, growling out a warning.
Stiles held his hand out a behind him. “I’m just gonna touch it. Stop being such a baby.”
Derek narrowed his eyes, but held his tongue.
The tip of Stiles’ finger brushed against the stone, and his vision went red. Someone started screaming, but he couldn’t tell who it was or where it was coming from. He heard voices, but they were indistinct, muffled, drowned out by whoever it was that was screaming. He felt a rawness in his throat, a buzzing in his head.
Scenes began to flash past his eyes, violent crimson scenes, nonsensical, but frenetic in their energy. He felt a crazed maniacal laughter bubbling up from somewhere inside of him, like he was going mad. He shook his head, but the sensations only intensified. He was gasping for breath, but the air wouldn’t come, and still, he heard the screaming. It was more than his mind could take. It was more than anyone could take. Then, it stopped. And, there was nothing.
* * *
Pomegranate
The mystical properties of the pomegranate are as numerous as the seeds that lie hidden beneath its red leathery rind. Used to bring luck, attract wealth, and foster love and creativity, the pomegranate is seen as a symbol of fertility and prosperity in almost every culture that is familiar with it.
It is a symbol of life and death, fire and strength, wisdom and ambition, and is used both in weddings and in funerals. It is a symbol for Saturn and masculinity, and is often used as a substitute for human blood when casting old spells that call for such things. Last, but not least, for those with the proper training and skill, the pomegranate is a useful fruit for the mysterious art of divination.
* * *
Stiles squinted, barely opening his eyes, and immediately recoiled from the bright light shining down on him. His mouth was dry, his throat was raw, and the world had taken on a strange muffled quality, as if his ears were stuffed with cotton. Willing his eyes open again, he saw his friends’ concerned faces peering down at him.
“Where am I?” he croaked out.
“We brought you to Deaton,” Scott said, placing a hand on Stiles’ arm. “You wouldn’t stop screaming. We didn’t know what else to do.”
He felt someone grabbing his hand, and turned his head to see Derek, who was glowering at him, though he could see the worry in his eyes. “What happened?” Stiles asked.
“You touched the rock,” Derek said, the fact that Derek had tried to warn him against it hanging unsaid between them. He sounded mad.
“Sorry,” Stiles said, his voice a drawn out whisper over sandpaper.
“Do you remember anything?” Deaton asked. “Did you see anything you can tell us about? What made you scream?”
“I don’t remember screaming,” Stiles rasped, which voice low. “I remember hearing it. I didn’t know it was me.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t remember what I saw. The sacrifices, I think. Can I have some water?”
Allison held a cup of water to his lips while Isaac gently lifted his head. Stiles lowered his head back down with a sigh.
“Don’t tell Lydia,” he said.
This earned him a smirk from Boyd.
“She’s gonna find out, eventually,” Erica said.
Stiles grimaced at the tongue-lashing he knew he was going to receive when Lydia found out how stupid he’d been. He blinked a few times, then turned to Derek. “Who’s watching the flower?”
“Danny and Kaede offered to stay behind to keep an eye on it,” Derek replied. His eyebrows drew together and he pressed his lips into a thin line. “You scared us.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again, smiling weakly at Derek.
Suddenly, his eyes went wide as he took in a huge lungful of air, squeezing Derek’s hand like he was in labor.
“Stiles!” Derek yelled, moving closer to him so that Stiles’ field of vision was almost entirely filled with his face.
“I remember,” Stiles whispered, his eyes filling with tears. He shook his head slowly from side to side. “All those people.” His eyes found Derek’s. “He’s crazy,” Stiles said, clutching Derek’s hand to his chest, his lip quivering. “He killed all those people. He’s trying to wake up the spirit, Derek. He’s trying to wake it up!”
Deaton placed a hand on Stiles’ chest. “Stiles, you need to calm down. What do you mean he’s trying to wake it up?”
Stiles turned to him. “Bill Welles is using blood magic to disrupt the spirit’s sleep. He’s trying wake it up so that it will kill us all.”
“Why?” asked Erica, sounding almost annoyed.
Stiles took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to search out the answer in what he had seen, but nothing came to him. He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“So, we just need to make sure he doesn’t sacrifice anymore people, right?” asked Scott.
“No,” Stiles said, turning to look at his best friend. “It’s too late. He’s spilled too much blood. The spirit’s going to wake up. It’s only a matter of time.”
The shocked expression on Deaton’s face would have been comical if the situation wasn’t so serious. “I need to get in touch with the Order,” he said. “If this being really is about to rise, then we need to do something. In the meantime, I suggest you all get back to the flower. We don’t need this thing to wake up any faster than it already is.”
Stiles managed to force them to bring him back to their campsite, despite Derek and Scott’s protests to the contrary. He reminded them that if the spirit woke up, it wouldn’t matter if he was at home or at the preserve, he would be just as dead as the rest of them. They didn’t really have an argument for that.
He and Derek were settling in for the night, the rest of the group having divided up the watch between them. Stiles snuggled into Derek’s chest and took a deep breath, relaxing into the safety of his arms. Derek kissed his forehead.
“Go to sleep,” Derek whispered.
His first instinct was to argue, but even he had to admit that he had been through one heck of a day. As he listened to the others talking softly outside of his tent, he began to drift off. He felt more than heard Derek sniffing the top of his head, and he smiled. His boyfriend was such a weirdo.
The next thing he knew, it was daylight, and Derek was flying from the tent, somehow managing to only slightly jostle Stiles while setting him gently down on the sleeping bag.
“Hey!” Stiles yelled. “What’s going on out there?”
There was no response, and he heard nothing, not that he actually expected to, what with all of his friends being werewolves or night flowers, or extremely well trained hunters.
“Stiles?”
Except for Danny.
Quickly pulling on a pair of pants and throwing on his hoodie, he didn’t bother grabbing a shirt, he stumbled out of his tent to find Danny’s head sticking out of the tent he had been sharing with Kaede.
“Where’d everybody go?” Danny asked, squinting sleepily at the morning light.
Stiles took a deep breath and scanned the forest. He could feel a knot of power, much stronger than a pack of werewolves and a single Night Flower would give off, and pointed in its direction.
“That’s where the stone is, isn’t it?” Danny asked.
Stiles nodded. “I’d tell you to wait here, but I know you won’t, so hurry up and get dressed so we can catch up with them.”
Danny ducked back inside and was back out fully clothed before Stiles could even count to ten. Stiles smirked at the lacrosse stick in his hands, and the line of lacrosse balls strapped across his chest, red for spider lily, black for mountain ash, purple for wolfsbane, and a few other colors. Allison’s father had helped them come up with the design for the harness when it became clear that Danny wasn’t going to always remain behind with a computer.
Nodding again, Stiles began jogging towards the stone, Danny keeping easy pace with him. They both slowed down and tried to approach the clearing as quietly as they could when they began to hear voices. They wouldn’t be able to conceal their presence from the werewolves, or from Kaede, but there was a chance that whatever had drawn them all to the clearing might not have supernatural hearing.
Stiles and Danny flinched when they heard a girl scream.
“Please, just let her go,” they heard a man beg. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Let them both go!” Derek said, using an even tone that was somehow scarier than his angry one. “Or, I’ll rip your throat out. With my teeth.”
Stiles and Danny had finally gotten close enough to see what was going on, and they cautiously peeked around the trunk of a large cedar.
Bill Welles had his hands on the shoulders of a young girl in front of him. She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. There were others with him, all of their eyes glowing green, except for one man, who Stiles guessed was the girl’s father. He was flanked by two of Welles’ goons, one of which had a knife pressed against the man’s neck. Derek and the rest of the pack were standing around them in a wide circle. It seemed like a stalemate, with Welles’ and his team threatening their hostages, and the pack unable to do more than watch and growl, but Stiles could feel the power coming off Welles. Welles had the upper hand here. It wasn’t even close.
Welles smiled and lifted his hand, which was obviously some kind of signal, as the man and woman holding the girl’s father forced him to kneel in front of the stone. The girl began screaming in earnest, but Welles continued smiling, staring Derek in the eye as if he were listening to the most beautiful song in the world.
When the woman lifted the knife, Stiles couldn’t take it anymore, and he burst into the clearing yelling, “Wait!”
All eyes turned to him, and Welles smiled, something akin to joyous surprise in his eyes.
“Stiles!” he said, as if he’d been waiting for a long lost friend, “I was wondering when you’d show up.”
“You knew I was here?” Stiles asked.
“Well, naturally!” he said, nodding his head towards Derek. “Your husband is here, though a bit furrier than I remember, last time I saw him. Your friends, Scott and Allison,” he said, turning to Allison. “Though I must say I don’t appreciate having an arrow pointed at me.
“I don’t appreciate you killing people in my preserve,” Allison replied.
Welles lifted a hand up. “Guilty!” he said, laughing. “But, we’re all a little bit guilty, aren’t we?” His cheerful demeanor turned dark. “You are all just a bunch of parasites that need to be wiped of the face of the Earth!” he snarled. “Humans have been allowed to do whatever they want for too long! Just a few more sacrifices, and the Earth Mother will rise!”
He lifted his face to the sky, tears of joy creeping down his cheeks. “She will cleanse this place, and release us from these bodies of filth and decay. And, when we’re gone, the Earth will live again, the way it was meant to.”
He leveled a look at Derek. “Our time has come to an end. Nature always finds a way to restore the balance. This time, she chose me.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Stiles said.
Bill turned to him, a slightly surprised look on his face as if he had forgotten that Stiles was there. “I do,” he said. “You don’t understand. These sacrifices don’t mean anything. We’re all gonna die anyway. It’s just a matter of time. We’re killing ourselves. Every day, the Earth dies a little, and we’re the ones sucking the life out of her! At least this way, the rest of the world will have a chance to survive before we poison everything past the point of no return.”
He nodded at the woman holding the knife, and her arm began to descend.
“No, you don’t understand!” Stiles said frantically, taking a step forward and causing to the woman to stop moving, at least for the moment. “The spirit, what did you call it? The Earth Mother! The Earth Mother is waking up! You don’t have to kill anyone!” Stiles stared at him for a moment, breathing hard, as if he had just been running. “You did it,” he said finally, almost congratulatory. “It’s done.”
“What are you talking about?” Bill asked angrily.
“I saw it,” Stiles said. “When I touched the rock. Here,” he said, holding out his hand. “I can show you.”
Bill shoved the girl away from him, causing her to stumble into one of his people, who grabbed on to her and held her firm in his grasp so that she couldn’t escape.
“Stiles…” Derek began, but stopped when Stiles sent him a stern glance.
“If you’re lying to me, boy, this will be the last thing you ever do,” Bill said, with his slight southern twang.
“Just hold my hand,” Stiles said. “I think this will work. If you still don’t believe me after, then you call still kill them. It’s not like we can stop you.”
Bill smirked with smug self-assurance, knowing what Stiles said was true. He reached out and slowly grasped Stiles’ hand with his own, as if he were afraid that Stiles might be holding on to a buzzer.
Stiles could see the images flashing by in his mind, and he knew Welles was seeing them too, his smile growing wider as true joy crept into his eyes.
“Well, I’ll be!” he said, dropping Stiles’ hand. “The boy’s telling the truth!” He turned his back to Stiles as if he were of no more consequence than a leaf that had fallen on the forest floor. “Let ‘em go! Our work is done.”
His people immediately released the girl and her father, and Allison quickly stepped forward to pull them out of the clearing.
“Thank you, Stiles,” Bill said, sounding sincere. “I wasn’t really a fan of getting my hands dirty like this, but I was willing to make the sacrifice.” He paused for a second, as if considering what he said, then began chuckling to himself.
He shook his head and sighed. “I’d say I’d see you around, but we’ll all probably be dead soon.”
Stiles saw Welles’ green-eyed goons quietly melt into the forest out of the corner of his eyes.
“Don’t try to follow us,” he warned, looking at Stiles, but addressing them all. “I don’t want to have to kill you, but I will if you interrupt what little time we have left to commune with the Earth Mother before the cleansing. I advise you to do the same. You may yet earn her favor and a place by her side after this is all done.”
He looked around at them and gave them a jaunty nod. “Good to see you all again.” And with that, he disappeared into the forest.
* * *
Amaranth
Amaranth is useful for healing and protection, and is often one of the required materials for burial rituals. A symbol of Saturn and of Artemis, goddess of the moon and the hunt, this bright red flower is also used as a symbol for fire and the feminine in many mystical workings, not the least of which are spells to mend a broken heart.
* * *
“You want me to what?!” Stiles asked, barely keeping his voice in check.
Derek, who was standing behind him, gently squeezed his shoulders, as if to remind him that he was not alone.
“I know this is difficult,” Marin said, but we have to make sure this works.
Stiles felt that weird buzzing sensation that sometimes signaled the onset of a panic attack, but between Derek, Scott, Deaton, and Morrell, he felt like he was in pretty good hands. It had been many years since they had first been told about Deaton’s relationship to Morrell, but it was still weird to know that the person who taught French and was a counselor at the high school was a druid, and a powerful one at that.
“You want me to dig up my mother, get a piece of her bone, and grind it up so we can use it in one of your powders,” he said, directing this to Mori, who had just arrived with the recipe some of the night flower elders had created, apparently with Deaton and Morrell’s help.
Mori looked guilty, but determined. “I am sorry, Stiles, but the elders agree this is the best way to make the powder strong enough to prevent the spirit from waking and destroying us all.”
Stiles closed his eyes and gripped the table in front of him.
“This is crazy!” Scott said. “There has to be another way.”
“There is no other way,” Morrell said. “The sacrifices made by Welles were done out of anger and hate. We need a sacrifice made in love to counteract it. We need some of Claudia’s bone, and the heartwood of the apple tree that she planted.”
Stiles felt the floor drop out from under him and Derek had to hold him up to keep him from falling to the floor. “You want to kill my mom’s tree?” he gasped.
His head was spinning now. It felt like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. He wasn’t even going to try to stop from having the panic attack. What was the point?
“Stiles!” It was Scott’s voice, but he sounded like he was standing in a tunnel.
He lurched, and Derek set him gently on the floor as everyone rushed around him.
“Stiles, calm down,” Deaton said. “We don’t need to kill your mom’s tree. We can take a core sample. We don’t need a lot.” He sounded like he was standing in the tunnel with Scott, but the words came through nonetheless.
“Core sample,” Stiles gasped, nodding frantically. He squeezed Derek’s hand.
“Breath with me, Stiles,” Derek said, calmly, though Stiles knew he was probably freaking out inside.
Stiles nodded and tried to match Derek’s breathing pattern.
“Derek,” he whimpered, hating how small his voice sounded. “Please take me home.”
Nodding, Derek scooped Stiles into his arms.
“But…” Marin began, stopping when Deaton placed a hand on her shoulder.
Derek ignored her and carried Stiles outside, with Scott trailing close behind.
When they were gone, Marin turned angry eyes on her brother. “We need those items, Alan,” she said. “And, Stiles has to be the one to perform the ritual.”
“I know,” Deaton said.
“He’ll come around,” Mori said. “We just need to give him time.”
“I hope you’re right,” Marin said, crossing her arms. “The only reason we were able to create this ritual at all was because Stiles’ mother planted that tree. If he won’t do it, I don’t know what we’re going to do.”