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All he can see is red.
It’s out of his control, the red tint to his vision, violent, like looking through a pool of blood. That’s what it feels like, because damn it he’s in pain. Not his pain – mostly, because he’d jerked when he’d first felt the pain, and had tugged on the handcuffs, and his right shoulder had been pulled back violently enough that it had popped out of socket, so some of it is his own pain – but it’s mostly Derek’s.
It isn’t all the whole Alpha-pack connection thing, he knows, because if Derek and Scott had been in this type of pain every time someone of the pack got hurt they wouldn’t’ve been able to do anything. It has to be partly the mind connection he has with Derek, a part of the spell he hadn’t been aware of.
Fuck it he’s in pain. He feels like there’s a fire in his abdomen, radiating from his stomach out. The pain in his right shoulder is a dull ache compared to this.
And Cassius is standing there, watching him with a smirk, and it’s fucking awful, how can Derek stand this? Stiles can’t concentrate on his connection, is only getting flickers of whatever’s happening. Phrases like “no, we’re not leaving you” and “fuck it, Scott, go get him” filter through and he wants to respond but he can’t focus enough.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Cassius says, the smirk growing as Stiles growls in response, staring at him with bright red eyes, “Yes, that spell is quite an accomplishment, I think. Hurts worse than wolfsbane, or so they tell me. Doesn’t allow weres to heal, I’m very proud of it. It’s an infection, is the thing.”
Cassius laughs loudly as Stiles does his best not to move, which is hard because all he wants is to curl into himself.
“My favourite part, though, is that eventually, you die from it, even if it’s not immediate. Which is what happened with your former Alpha, didn’t it. Ah, it must’ve been torture, to watch him die, not healing no matter what you did. I wish I could’ve been there. It’s absolutely delightful, to see someone die from one of your own created spells.”
Stiles’ glare gets harder for half a second before he feels another, new pain, and fuck that. It’s a very dull pain to his head, which already feels half on-fire from everything that’s going on, and he focuses on Derek’s mind enough to recognize that someone else got hurt, though he can’t tell who, between the pain he’s feeling and the pain Derek is, the connection is fuzzier.
What he can tell, as he focuses on it all, is that there aren’t any more red bodies of mass in their shared vision – that they’ve done it, with apparent but actually minor injuries compared to what could have been, nobody’s dead yet. And that they’re coming.
C’mon, dude he huffs at Derek, and he’s conscious enough of their connection to hear a whisper of a growl in return and Cassius is still laughing when there’s a sudden light pouring from the south and both he and Cassius are turning, surprised, toward the light to see his pack pouring in and Stiles is still seeing red but it fades, just the slightest, at seeing his pack.
Cassius only holds his surprise for a moment, long enough for everyone to pool in, stances defensive and everyone wolfed out who can be and Derek, leaning heavily on Boyd, purple-black wound to his stomach. Stiles quickly looks over everyone else as his vision bleeds back to full colour, seeing his pack calming him enough, and – Kira’s at the back, near Boyd and Derek, a line across her forehead in the same deep purple-black that was way too familiar at that point, and fuck.
And just as suddenly as everyone’s in their defensive stance, Scott, who’s stupidly, Stiles thinks, in the front of the pack, is thrown across the room, to the same pillar Stiles is restrained against, held there, feet off the ground, and Stiles’ vision swings back to Cassius, who’s slowly approaching he and Scott, eyebrow cocked.
“I can’t say I was expecting this,” he says, and when Isaac and Erica and Malia growl at him he flicks his hand in their general direction, the noise suddenly cutting off and Stiles glances over to see them clutching at their throats, voices obviously gone, and he can feel anger, stronger than before, building in his chest. The nudge of Scott’s foot to his thigh tells him that Scott can feel the anger, too, but he can’t curb it, because this is his pack that Cassius is hurting, is going to hurt, is going to kill, and fuck if it hasn’t really been clear until then.
“I can’t say I was expecting this, you all somehow getting through my pack – ”
“Killed them,” Stiles hears Derek growl out, and Cassius freezes at this, eyes going from staring Scott’s face to looking above his head, and a slow, malicious grin gracing his face. He turns, toward the rest of the pack, and Stiles looks over to see Derek, propped against the far wall, somehow still on his feet, slumped as he is. The rest of the pack is still in formation in front of him and Kira, who’s off to the side by him, but within a second they’re all parted, thrown to the sides and apparently held down by the same spell as Scott is. There’s a path directly to Derek, then, and Cassius takes it, slow as ever, eyes fixed on Derek and Stiles – fuck this, this entire thing, he is not letting Cassius hurt his pack, he is not –
***
Derek’s pack has been telling him for years, now, that he doesn’t have any survival instinct, which he very much disagrees with because he wouldn’t still be alive if he didn’t have some sort of one, but sometimes, he also agrees, because he’s dying here and he still decides to speak up when Cassius is monologuing. Because sometimes he is an idiot and now he watches as the rest of the pack is thrown to the side, obviously their collective power nothing compared to his, and the witch is walking toward him, vicious smile on face.
He stops, about halfway to Derek, and suddenly the smile drops off his face, eyes glowing an awful, bitter orange, still fixed on Derek.
“You were dead,” he says, sounding marvelled, “You were dead, you were…the old Alpha. You were killed by Marìana, I…felt it.”
Cassius starts walking again, even more slowly, eyes still orange and aura growing, angry and ugly orange as his eyes. There’s a sudden flare from behind him, his anger building, Derek can feel it in the air, and then there’s –
Fuck, his pain triples, quadruples, and next thing he knows he’s on the ground, entire body absolutely on fire, for real he’s sure of it and Cassius is looming over him, furious.
“How are you alive?” he asks, and Derek opens his mouth, feeling bile and – and blood, maybe, in this throat and he’s been in a lot of pain, he knows pain like the back of his hand and can handle it usually, but this is awful, he feels worse than ever, burning like he’s in hell and unable to stop it, to just die, his vision blurs completely, and then –
As suddenly as it comes it goes, alleviating to even better than before, and when he’s able to focus again he sees Cassius, turned and stopped, aura pale again, but there’s something even more powerful in the air, rumbling and magical and – Derek turns his head.
And Stiles. Previously against the pillar, sitting, is now standing, facing Cassius, eyes glowing deep purple and seeming a hundred times bigger than he is, his own aura dark and teeth bared, stance strikingly similar to a ‘wolf’s.
“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. My pack.” Stiles’ voice booms, filling the cavernous space of the place they’re in.
“How – ” he hears Cassius start, but then Stiles growls, deep and very alpha-like, and as sudden as everything else has been the pack is seemingly released from their restraints and without hesitation Erica and Boyd and Malia and Isaac and Allison and Lydia are on Cassius, tackling him and ripping into him and then Stiles growls out another command.
“Stop.”
Everyone does, and Derek pushes himself up against the wall and watches as Stiles stalks forward to Cassius, somehow being held down by Malia and Erica. He grins, malicious and vicious as Cassius.
“It’ll only get more painful the harder you struggle,” he tells Cassius, somewhat mockingly, and flicks his hand. Cassius’ body arches up then, sending Malia and Erica falling back, and seizures, shaking violently for a few seconds before falling back on the ground, limp, for just a moment before he – seemingly – combusts, sending sparks in every direction and then there’s nothing but dust left of him and –
And there’s a surge of power, then, strong, through the pack, and Derek feels his wolf better than ever, more clarity to everything, nearly as good as when he was an Alpha and, in some ways, better, and he looks around at the pack to see everyone’s expression similarly surprised and amazed, and glances at Stiles, whose eyes slowly bleed back to their normal, golden colour. He feels his vision start to blur again, then, and is awake just long enough to see Stiles collapse before he does too.
***
When he blinks awake it’s – confusing. He’s in his own bed – in his apartment – and the first person he sees is Kira, looking down at him with a worried expression that clears upon him waking, but he remembers –
“Your head,” he points out, because there’s no cut on her forehead, no scar, nothing there, which –
Except, Cassius, and Stiles, and –
“Stiles,” Kira says softly, still looking down at Derek with a smile, and Derek glances down at himself to see –
Nothing. No wounds across his stomach, his shirt new and full and not torn and he feels – achy, a little bit, but not in pain, not on fire, definitely not dying, which doesn’t make any sense in his mind because –
And then there’s Stiles, coming into his vision too, and he looks – tired. A bit gaunt, deep and dark bags under his eyes, but he looks settled, and happy.
“You’re awake,” Stiles says with a small smile, and Derek rallies back quickly with an “I’m alive.”
There’s a laugh from his other side, and he turns his head to see Lydia, and Scott, and Isaac, and Erica and Boyd and Malia further behind them, everyone smiling and it’s weird and disorienting because he doesn’t really remember what happened except that –
“Cassius is dead?” he asks, and there’s a brief grimace that makes it’s way around the room, and it’s Allison who speaks up, from the end of his bed.
“He’s dead.” Her eyes flicker briefly to Stiles, and Derek follows that line of vision because oh right –
“You killed him and – ” he pauses, holds Stiles’ eyes for a moment, “You killed him and absorbed his powers.”
“The pack did,” Stiles amends, cocking his head to the side, “The territory did. We’re all stronger.”
“How – ” he starts, but stops when Stiles shakes his head.
“I’m all for twenty q’s, I really am, and I think we definitely ought to have a pack meeting, but right now I’m super tired and need some sleep and I’m pretty sure you could use a nap too.”
With that Stiles plops down on the bed next to Derek, snuggling into his side and closing his eyes as the rest of the pack laughs. Kira sighs, and after a moment lays down on Derek’s other side, her head on his stomach and her legs tucked under his.
The rest of the pack disperses, then, moving away from the bed and talking quietly among themselves. It isn’t long before Derek falls asleep, cuddled between Stiles and Kira.
***
When Stiles wakes up his head is shoved into Derek’s bicep, Derek’s arm thrown across his hip, Kira’s face in his chest and their limbs are all tangled as he can feel the rest of his pack. He glances around, sees Allison from the couch watching them with a small, content smile on her face and Erica and Isaac are whispering to each other as the TV plays ever-so-softly in the background and everyone else is congregated in the kitchen and –
He feels – content, is the best description he can think of. He feels more content and calm than he has since he became the alpha, knowing that his pack is alive and safe and –
He hears Derek snuff from beside him, and he looks up to see Derek looking down at him, smiling softly, and he can’t help but smile back. Kira wakes up slowly, wiggling her nose against Stiles’ chest and blinking. She looks up at Stiles, pushing off him and sitting up with a “Sorry”. Stiles shrugs as he sits up also, rubbing at his eyes and yawning awake.
It’s twenty minutes before they’re all gathered on the various chairs and couch and loveseat in the living room, but once they are everyone just looks to each other, unsure until –
“So what the fuck happened?”
Everyone glances at Erica before their eyes turn to Stiles, who sighs from where he’s sitting and shrugs, looking down at his hands.
“I don’t – I’m not sure. I was getting really angry – Cassius had been talking about killing you guys and when – he started to hurt you and I just – snapped. Like literally, I felt the handcuffs snap and then I was – I was standing there and it was – an extreme rush of pwer, and then it was like my magic was telling me what to do, how to kill Cassius and I – I did.”
Stiles shrugs, feeling somewhat helpless, and the thing is he hates that more than he hates almost anything else – feeling helpless. He continues to stare down at his hands, missing the looks of everyone as they glance around at each other.
“You can’t usually absorb a witch’s powers when you kill them, though,” Lydia says slowly, and Stiles shrugs again, finally looking up.
“I don’t – like I said, it was like my magic was telling me what to do and how to do it. And I just did and it worked and then – then he was gone, and we had all that power he’s been taking for hundreds of years.”
He glances around the room, at everyone who are all staring right back at him. He shrugs again.
“If it makes you feel any better I’m still in shock about it too.”
Silence reigns for a few moments longer before Derek speaks up, sounding confused.
“But…how did Kira and I end up healed? Last time – ”
“Stiles,” Kira says, and everyone’s eyes turn back to him.
“It was, um. Cassius’ power, I think he might’ve always had a counter spell in his repertoire. Or, uh, I just became powerful, the pack just did, for me to be able to heal you. With will power?”
“Plus,” Allison speaks up, “It may have helped just having Cassius’ power in the pack. I mean, I can even feel it, and I’m actually human. I mean, he had a hell of a lot of magic stored up in there from all the Alphas and packs and witches and other supernatural creatures he killed.”
“He did say that he was – almost a thousand years old, I think, and witches usually can only live for – ” Stiles cuts off, glancing around the room.
“I think the average is like a hundred years. Even magical beings usually don’t live much longer than humans,” Cora tells them, and Stiles nods, continuing.
“So that was a lot of power, if he was that old and still looked like he was twenty-five. I’m assuming he still had hundreds of years left.”
“All of that combined and – there wasn’t any way you were going to die, I don’t think, even if Stiles hadn’t been able to fully heal you,” Lydia tries.
“Regardless of any of this, though,” Scott decides to speak up, “We should probably go talk to Deaton as soon as he get backs from his trip. He’ll have more knowledge on what to do and – a lot has happened. I want to make sure that nothing will go wrong with absorbing Cassius’ powers.”
Everyone nodded their agreement, and another few seconds of silence passed before Stiles sighs.
“Pizza and a movie, guys?”