Chapter Text
Stiles woke feeling more refreshed than he could ever remember having felt before. He was covered in warmth from his head to his feet, and the exhaustion that had seemed a permanent part of him was suddenly gone. At first he didn’t move, wanting to hold onto the warmth and safety for as long as he could, but at the sound of shuffling nearby, he finally opened his eyes.
He looked around slowly, wondering why it was so dark. It took him a moment, but he eventually realised that somehow during the night the trees and bushes had bent over him, hovering but not touching, forming what looked like half a cocoon around him.
Stiles stared at the leaves for a moment longer, before he finally looked down towards the rest of the clearing, where Scott and Alayna were sitting round the still-burning fire. A pile of what looked like berries were sat beside them, and Stiles could just make out the low timbre of Scott’s voice as he spoke.
After watching them for a few moments, Stiles finally moved and got to his feet, making his way over to the fire. Both Scott and Alayna looked up at him as he arrived, dark bags of stress and exhaustion beneath both their eyes, but small smiles nonetheless pulling at their lips.
“Hey,” Scott greeted as Stiles sat down beside them.
“Hey,” Stiles replied.
“How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good, actually.” Stiles blinked, feeling more and more strength return to him with nearly every passing moment. “Actually, very good. How ‘bout you?”
“I’d like to sleep for another day, but other than that, I think I’m good too. Alayna’s still pretty tired, though.”
If Alayna’s sharp look of disapproval was anything to go by, it was clear that she hadn’t intended for Stiles to know that. With a slightly-frustrated sigh, she turned to Stiles. “I’m fine,” she said, though it was clear from her voice and posture that she was wasn’t. “Seriously, there’s nothing wrong with me aside from needing a few days rest. It’s nothing that sleep won’t fix.”
Stiles opened his mouth, about to argue with her, but Alayna quickly cut him off: “You can dispute me all you like, Stiles, but none of that matters anyway at the moment. Right now we need to focus on getting back to Beacon Hills and out of these mountains.” The ‘for good’ part wasn’t spoken, but was heard by all. Stiles honestly couldn’t wait; he didn’t want to see another rugged mountain peak for a very, very long time.
After a few minutes of silence, Scott finally asked, “So how are we going to get back? Are we gonna walk all the way, or can we, you know… like Ran Gore…?”
Stiles knew what Scott was asking, but he didn’t know what to say in response. He honestly had no idea how to get back; he’d moved through the water like Ran Gore had, sure, but that had been in the heat of fighting – he had no idea how he’d done it, or if he could even do it again. Maybe it was only because Ran Gore was there that it had worked at all.
After a few minutes of silence, Alayna spoke: “I can bring us back. There are many ways to move through the world, water and the elements are only one. I still have some strength left in me, I can –.”
“Alayna, no,” Stiles interjected. “You just – you’re exhausted; you can’t just take us all the way back to Beacon Hills, and –.”
“Yes, I can,” Alayna interrupted. “I still have some power left, enough to get us to Beacon Hills safely. We need only to walk to the nearest valley and I’ll have enough space to move us all together.” Stiles gave her a hard stare, but Alayna simply frowned at him in return. “It is either that, or we walk all the way out of the mountains and to the nearest town on foot. It will only take us a week or more, and we of course won’t run into any difficulties along the way – the wilderness holds none of those. But the choice Stiles, of course, is yours.”
Stiles stayed silent for a moment longer, before he finally gave a loud huff of frustration and turned away. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s find the nearest clearing and get out of here.”
They walked for over half an hour before they finally broke the treeline and began making their way down into the valley. Once they’d reached the bottom, Alayna gathered them into a small circle and closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she grasped both Stiles and Scott’s hands and held them tightly in her own.
Stiles wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Perhaps he’d thought a wave of water would rush around them and carry they back to Beacon Hills, or they’d be engulfed in a tidal wave or the roar of a river as Ran Gore had preferred. Instead, though, he felt something entirely different. It was a pull, a tug against centremost part of his body, feeling almost as though it were expanding within him. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but before he could really focus on it further, the mountains and trees and sun began to suddenly grow brighter and brighter until they were blinding, and on instinct Stiles was forced to shut his eyes.
The white noise in his ears grew deafening, and for a moment Stiles could feel nothing except the beating of his own heart. Then as quickly as it began, the light behind Stiles’ eyes faded and he was able to open them once more. When he did, he saw that the trees and mountains of the Rockies were gone, replaced instead with the buildings and roads of Beacon Hills.
Stiles blinked, taking a moment to adjust to the sudden change. He looked around, searching, looking at everything and anything. A few seconds passed, and it took him another moment to realise what was wrong.
Nothing.
There was nothing wrong, and that was what was surprising him. After what he’d seen during his fight with Ran Gore, of all the people laying unconscious on the ground and in their houses, of the hundreds of people whose souls had been stolen from their bodies and were going to perish into Gore’s own, he had been expecting to see them still there, still dying, or dead. But they weren’t there. The streets were empty, save for cars parked along the side of the road and in people’s driveways. The scene looked like the millions of others that Stiles had seen throughout his life in the small town, appearing as though nothing had ever happened, as though nothing were amiss.
“Come on,” Scott said quietly, starting to make his way across the road and towards the sidewalk. “We should go to the hospital. It’s the closest, and my mom will probably be there.”
Stiles blinked once, then quickly made his way after Scott. “I have to find my dad,” he said absently as they began walking towards the hospital. Images of his father struggling to lift an unconscious man into his car while trying to stay awake himself flashed through Stiles’ mind, and his heart began to beat faster as the urgency to see his dad grew greater.
“We’ll find him,” Scott reassured. “He’s most likely at the hospital, too.”
As they walked, another thought went through Stiles’ mind. “The girls,” he said. “And Liam. We should – we need to figure out where they are, if they’re okay –.”
Scott slowed, biting his lower lip for a moment as he stared into the distance, before his teeth set firmly in his jaw. “First my mom, then your dad, and then Liam and the girls. They’re with Daniel and Jacob, and they all can defend themselves. They’ll be fine.”
Stiles felt someone brush up beside him and he looked down to see Alayna’s tired eyes peering into his own. She gave him a weak smile. “Scott is right, Stiles,” she said softly. “They are in good hands. They will make it back to Beacon Hills safely.”
Scott began moving again and with a deep breath, Stiles followed.
When they arrived at the hospital, Stiles was surprised to see just how much activity was going on outside the building. Cars, trucks, jeeps – people. They were all moving in every direction, some leaving, some arriving; but what struck Stiles the most was how calm everyone was. How normal everyone was. How normal everything was. After all that had happened, he had expected to see the worst – people dead, people dying, people confused and wondering what the heck was going on. But this….
They made their way through the hospital doors and up to the third wing where Melissa worked. When they stepped out of the elevator they were greeted with the sight of a near empty hallway, save for the few nurses and doctors making their way in and out of rooms. Everything was orderly, everything was calm, everything was normal. But how –
“SCOTT!”
Stiles felt a familiar presence wash over him and before he had time to move, Scott was being shoved against him as his mother flung her arms around him in a massive hug.
He waited for a few minutes as Melissa ran her hands over Scott’s face and shoulders, making sure he was okay, before her head swung to Stiles. She immediately wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight in what Stiles knew was long awaited relief. Finally she let him go and pulled back, her eyes wide but sharp. “Are you boys okay?” she asked, her gaze flickering rapidly between them, searching their faces for the barest hint of a lie.
“We’re fine, Mom,” Scott said, trying to sound as reassuring as he could. For once, though, it was true. At least for the most part.
“What happened? Where did you go? Who were you fighting, and how did –.”
“I’ll tell you everything later, Mom, I promise,” Scott quickly interrupted. “But first – what happened here? When we left, people were getting sick, and –.”
Melissa took a deep breath, steadying herself. “It was bad, Scott. It doesn’t seem like it now, but twenty-four hours ago I seriously thought that it was the end. There was no one – the hospital was bursting at the seams, everyone was unconscious or nearly there; we couldn’t figure it out. We couldn’t figure out what was going on, and then the staff started falling sick too, and when I called John at the station I couldn’t get a hold of him, I couldn’t get a hold of anyone. I ran outside but it was the exact same thing – everyone was unconscious, or barely awake. I managed to get back to the desk and call the next hospital in the town over, but I couldn’t dial the phone. It was like – it was like –.”
Melissa fell silent, and Scott made to reach for her, but she stepped back and shook her head. After a few moments she took a deep breath and continued: “When I woke up, everyone was moving again. The staff was checking everyone, making sure they were okay, but they couldn’t find anything wrong. It were as though everyone had just decided to get sick all at once, and all at once they got better again.”
She caught Scott’s eye, then Stiles’, looking between them. “They’re calling it a pandemic. They’re still trying to figure out what exactly caused it, but for now they’re just telling everyone to go back to their homes and back to work. They want to keep everyone calm, so they’re acting like nothing ever happened.”
Stiles looked away as Melissa fell into silence. Well, he thought, it’s much better if they think it was just some sickness, than figure out what actually happened. His gaze turned back to Melissa, who was once more checking over Scott. His eyes fell closed as he took a breath. At least everyone’s alive. They’re actually alive.
“Scott?”
Stiles’ eyes opened back up at the sound of Melissa’s voice and he looked at her briefly, catching her gaze which fell just past Scott and Stiles’ shoulders. Stiles turned, his eyes landing on Alayna, whose pale face and vacant eyes made it look as though she were almost ready to collapse.
“Mom,” Scott said, stepping to the side, “this is Alayna.”
At the sound of her name Alayna looked up, her eyes wandering for a few moments before they landed on the older woman before her. She quickly offered up a weak smile. “Hello,” she said quietly.
“Alayna helped us get out of the mountains,” Scott explained lightly, obviously trying to avoid having to explain exactly who Alayna was and what she had done. But Melissa had known her son for far too long, and with a questioning raise of her eyebrow, Scott quickly said, “I’ll explain it all later. Right now though…” Scott ran a hand tiredly over his face. “Right now we just need to make sure everything’s all right, and maybe find a place to crash… yeah, a place to crash would be good right now.”
Three years ago, Melissa would have demanded that Scott and Stiles tell her everything that was going on, and that they tell her right now. She certainly wouldn’t have let some random girl showing up out of nowhere go unexplained. But it wasn’t three years ago, and Melissa had learned – however unwantingly – that she would have to trust her son, more times over than she would perhaps ever like, and now was no exception.
She stared at Alayna a moment longer, then took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said at last. “Go home. There should be food in the fridge, and if not, well… you know where the money is. I’ll be home in a few hours.”
As Scott made to move, Stiles’ thoughts quickly turned back to his father. “Melissa?” he asked. Melissa turned to him, and he continued: “I need to use your phone. I – I lost mine, and I need to call my dad. I… I need to call my dad.” He could see Ran Gore’s hand digging into his father’s chest, could see his soul being ripped from his body, being sucked into Gore’s emerald necklace….
Stiles suddenly felt something being pressed into his hands and he blinked, looking down to see Melissa’s cell phone. He looked up, and Melissa gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Here,” she said quietly. “I haven’t called your dad yet, Stiles, but I’m sure he’s fine. Like everyone else, I’m sure he’s just fine.”
At Melissa’s words, Stiles felt a bit of himself begin to break, the hard walls he’d built to get him through the fight with Ran Gore and everything that happened afterwards, slowly beginning to crumble. His fingers curled over the phone, squeezing it tight before turning it on and rapidly tapping in his dad’s phone number.
He stepped away, pressing the phone to his ear, listening as the call connected and waiting the torturous seconds as each ring rose and fell.
As fifteen seconds, then thirty, then forty passed, it became evident that his dad wasn’t going to pick up. Finally the final ring sounded, followed by the click and steely-toned voice of the voicemail, asking him to please leave a message after the beep. When the phone beeped, Stiles took a shaky breath. “Dad? Dad, it’s me, it’s Stiles – I… I just wanted to call to let you know I’m okay, and, um… I was just wanting to make sure that you’re okay too. So uh, if you could, um… if you could call me back, that would, I mean….” Stiles ran a hand over his face, realising that he was using Melissa’s cell and not his own. He took another shaky breath. “I just want to make sure you’re okay, and –.”
The phone suddenly beeped, alerting him that the maximum length for the message had been reached, and the call was now ended. Stiles brought the phone back down, running his thumb once across the screen before handing it back to Melissa. Seeing his face, the mother gave him a sad smile, reaching up and placing her hand against his cheek. “You’ll find him, don’t worry. He’s here somewhere. He’s probably just out doing his job – you know how he is.”
And Stiles did. He knew only too well that his dad was most likely busy making sure everyone was okay, that no one was hurt, that everything was indeed back to normal. He wouldn’t come home until he was sure that everything was okay.
Except right now, Stiles needed to make sure that he was okay.
The PA sounded and a monotone voice came over the speaker, telling certain doctors to go to certain rooms and for nurses to go elsewhere. Stiles felt Scott shift beside him before speaking. “Come on Stiles,” he said. “Let’s go home.”
Home. What was that again?
After saying their goodbyes, Scott, Stiles, and Alayna left the hospital and headed towards Stiles’ house.
As they neared his house, Stiles could feel his heart begin to beat faster, hoping that as his driveway came into view, he would see his dad’s cruiser sitting in front of the garage and the living room lights turned on. As they turned the corner, however, all that greeted him was the empty pavement. Stiles faltered for a moment, fear spiking through his veins, before he started walking forwards once more. Grabbing the spare key from its hiding spot near the window, Stiles opened the door and walked inside.
It was evident from the first step that no one was home; the house was completely still and utterly silent, shrouded in darkness and shadows. Flicking on the lights, Stiles took a look around.
Everything was as he had left it; nothing was out of place, not even the old Tupperware that was strewn across the kitchen counter, dirtied and some still filled with food. Everything looked completely normal.
Except it wasn’t.
“He hasn’t been here for a while,” Scott said quietly, stepping further into the room and taking a few deep breaths. “Twelve hours, at least, I’d say.”
It took a moment for Scott’s words to sink in, and Scott himself probably wasn’t even aware of the significance of what he’d just said. But once it hit him, Stiles couldn’t let it go.
“So you’re saying he was here?” he asked, spinning around, his eyes wide. “Twelve hours ago, he was here? In this house? In this room?”
Scott frowned, wondering what Stiles was talking about, when suddenly realisation dawned. “Yeah,” he said, more firmly this time. “Yeah, he was here. He was definitely here, and he was alive.”
“Do you… can you smell blood, or anything, or –.”
“No. No, I can’t smell anything like that at all. As far as I can tell, he was fine. He is fine.”
A weight that he hadn’t realised was pressing on his chest suddenly lifted, and Stiles found himself rapidly sucking in a deep breath. He could feel the blood rushing towards his head, and he quickly sat down on the nearest chair before he could fall.
He was alive. His dad was alive. He was okay.
He was alive.
Scott and Alayna sat down beside him. They sat together for over an hour, until Scott left to go back to his own home and meet up with his mom, just for a bit, to make sure she was okay and to explain all that had happened.
Stiles felt a hand brush his, and he looked back to see Alayna smiling tiredly up at him from where she sat. She said nothing, choosing instead to simply brush her fingers along Stiles’ wrist, reassuring him that he wasn’t alone and that for once, all was safe. Stiles gave her a small smile and gave her hand a quick squeeze with his own fingers. “You should go upstairs,” he said. “There’s a spare room you can use. You look like you’re ready to fall over.”
And she did; it was a testament to just how exhausted she was that Alayna didn’t put up a fight, and instead with a small nod, allowed Stiles to help her up the stairs and into the spare bedroom. As soon as she laid down on the bed her body seemed to suddenly give out, and without warning she was completely asleep. Stiles took a few moments to pull the covers down and lay them over top of her, before turning off the lights and shutting the door behind him. He resumed his seat by the table, his eyes staring off into the distance as he waited for his father to come home.
The light of day turned to dusk, and it wasn’t until dusk had just about turned to night that Stiles finally heard the rumble of a familiar engine drive down the road. A few moments later the lights of a car poured through the window, before turning away and coming to a halt. Seconds later the engine stopped, and Stiles listened as the car’s door opened and closed, followed soon after by the turning of a key in the lock.
The first thing he noticed was how tired his dad looked. Even in the light of the dimming sun and rising moon, it was clear that his dad was utterly exhausted to the bone. The second thing Stiles noticed was the dark bruise rising from the skin above John’s disheveled and open shirt, disappearing below the fabric, where it most likely covered the rest of his chest. Stiles knew immediately what it was from – having someone dig their hands into your body and rip out your soul didn’t come without consequences. Guilt stabbed at Stiles’ chest, but before he could think any more about it, his dad looked up and their eyes finally met.
John’s first reaction came from years of instinct in law enforcement, his body jerking and his hand immediately going to the gun held on his side at the unexpected presence in the room. His second reaction, however, came from all his years as a father, as his hands immediately fell from his holster and reached for his son.
At first he could only stare, neither of them saying a word, both simply taking in each other’s presence. Then finally, with a small stumble, John surged forward and grabbed Stiles into his arms. He said his son’s name over and over again as Stiles reached around and returned his father’s hug, squeezing him just as tight, holding him just as close, as he finally knew for sure that his father was safe.
After what felt like an age, they finally pulled apart, both taking a good look at the other, reassuring themselves that they really were okay. John was the first to finally speak. “Stiles,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “Stiles, what… what happened? Where did you go, who were you fighting, what –.”
“I’ll explain everything, Dad,” Stiles interrupted. “I promise. I’ll tell you everything. But first I need… I need to tell you something else.” Stiles took a breath, knowing if he didn’t say it now, he might not ever get the courage again. “When… when I left, I… I did something –.”
John frowned, searching his son for a few moments before he blinked in understanding, almost as though he’d forgotten all about the flame that had appeared in his son’s hand before he’d run out of the house all those weeks ago. With all that had happened since then, Stiles supposed that he had.
John pulled out a chair and sat down, his eyes never leaving Stiles’. Following his lead, Stiles sat back down in his own chair, taking a deep and heavy breath, waiting a long moment before he finally spoke. It wasn’t the first time he’d told this story now, but it still seemed just as hard to put the words together and get them out of his mouth as the first time. “When I… when I was taken by Givens, I found out that I… that I could do things. I could… I could control the air, and later the earth, and then fire and now… and now water. They say that I’m a… an Elemental.”
Stiles looked up at his father, gauging his reaction. John stared at him for a long moment, his expression indecipherable. Finally he leaned back and ran a hand over his face. “Stiles,” he said, almost like he was hearing that Stiles had been goofing around and had fallen into the creek again, rather than just having heard that his son had what was essentially magic. He opened his eyes and looked at his son. “If you’d told me this four years ago, I’d have had you sent for a psych exam. But now….” John shook his head again, then raised his eyebrow. “So you’ve just been keeping this little secret to yourself for the past seven months?”
The conversation felt so normal, so like the ones that they always had growing up, whenever Stiles would finally admit to something that he’d been keeping secret from his dad. It was throwing him off – he wasn’t exactly sure where to go next. He’d expected hurt, betrayal, anger –
“Stiles?”
Stiles looked up, catching his dad’s worried gaze. Swallowing, Stiles knew exactly what he had do say next. “Dad, Dad there’s something else I have to tell you. Something important.”
The slight ease that had fallen across John’s face quickly disappeared. “What is it?” he asked. “Are you sure it’s bigger than the fact that my son can apparently now control fire and air?” Stiles was quiet for a long moment, and John’s lips turned into a frown. “Stiles?” he prompted.
Stiles took a breath. “Apparently there are these… there are these stories, or – or something. They say that there is someone who will defeat this… this thing, or whatever. Some ‘darkness’. They say that this person will be powerful. Very powerful. They call this person the Blessed.”
John’s frown deepened and he shook his head in confusion. “So… what? Are you telling me that you think this person is one of your friends? Is it Scott?”
He could get out of this now, he could tell his dad that he didn’t know who this person was, that this prophecy was as far away from them as the earth was from the moon. But he couldn’t lie to his dad. Not now. Not any more.
“No, Dad, it’s not… it’s not Scott, or Lydia, or Malia, or Liam, it’s… it’s me.”
The room fell into silence for a long moment, neither man saying a single word as Stiles waited for his dad’s response. Eventually he looked up, his eyes meeting his father’s incredulous stare. Finally John spoke: “I don’t… I don’t understand. You’re telling me that there are these stories about some powerful guy that’s supposed to show up to defeat something dark, and that… that you’re him? Am I getting that right?”
“Well they’re not so much stories, as they are… prophecies.”
“Prophecies.”
“Yeah.”
There was another long, heavy moment, before John finally leaned back in his chair with a deep sigh, running his hand over his face. “Okay Stiles,” he said tiredly. “Tell me everything, from the beginning. And don’t leave a single thing out.”
Well over an hour later, Stiles finally fell into silence. He had watched his dad as he spoke, taking in every little reaction he gave, every movement of his lips and every twitch of his brow. John would cut Stiles off every few minutes, asking him questions, wanting to know more about what had happened with Givens, with Ran Gore, about what he could do as an Elemental and just what the heck a Blessed really was. After being forced to explain everything, Stiles was able to realise just how little he really knew himself about everything that had happened, and everything that he was. But at the moment, that wasn’t what Stiles cared about.
All in all, John took it all surprisingly well. Stiles supposed that living the past three years surrounded by werewolves and the supernatural would make the knowledge that your own son had magic a little more easy to swallow. Overall, everything had gone really well.
Well, except when he mentioned Alayna.
“Say that again?” John asked, raising an eyebrow incredulously.
Stiles shrunk slightly back, recognising the danger in his father’s tone. He had to admit, after everything that had happened, he hadn’t expected to feel the familiar teenage-guilt at the end of the day.
“Uh, I said… I said that there’s a girl upstairs in the guestroom.”
John opened his mouth to speak, but Stiles quickly cut him off. “Her name is Alayna; she’s the one I told you about – the one in the mirror, the one who helped me figure out what I could do and who helped us kill Ran Gore. We got her out of the mirror, she helped us get back to Beacon Hills. She has no where to go, Dad; she’s my responsibility now. She just got back to our world, and I… I have to help her.”
John stared at Stiles for only a moment, before shaking his head with a sigh. Stiles thought he would make some quip, would say something like “only you”, but instead he merely pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. “Of course she’s welcome here, Stiles, but I’ll have to meet her properly in the morning; it’s late. You look ready to fall off your feet; you need to go to bed. Get something to eat, first – I’m sure you’ve barely eaten throughout this whole… thing. But then you’re heading straight to bed.”
“I can’t, Dad, not yet. Scott’s talking with his mom, but afterwards he’s going to come back, and –.”
“No he’s not, Stiles,” John firmly interrupted. “He’s going to stay home and go to bed, too. I’ll call Melissa and tell her that you’ll see him in the morning.”
“But Dad –.”
“No ‘buts’, Stiles, I mean it. You’re dead on your feet and if you don’t go to bed now, I’ll put you there myself.”
Stiles opened his mouth, wanting to keep arguing, to insist that he needed to talk to Scott, that they still needed to figure out where Liam and the girls were, if they were safe, and when they’d get back. They needed to know what they were going to do with Alayna and if they should go around town and check to see if everyone was really okay, and –
Stiles felt his father’s hands come down on his shoulders and he blinked, realising that he must have started talking and stopped halfway through, his eyes staring blankly into the distance. He let his dad lead him up the stairs and into his room, absently taking off his torn and dirtied clothes and pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms before crawling beneath the covers of his bed. It felt inextricably weird to be laying on an actual mattress, a modern one, with soft blankets and pillows both over and beneath him. After sleeping on the ground for so long, he almost felt as though he were going to fall through the bed.
A hand lightly touched the side of his face, moving down his shoulder affectionately before tucking the blankets in beside him. “Goodnight, Stiles,” his dad’s voice said from somewhere above him. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
And Stiles knew no more.
When Stiles opened his eyes, he wasn’t sure at first where he was. It took him a moment to realise that he was in his room, his room back in Beacon Hills, and that the reason he couldn’t hear anything going on was because everything was silent.
Silence. How could something so normal have become so foreign?
Closing his eyes, Stiles turned back onto his bed, taking in a deep breath as he allowed himself one last moment of rest.
A short while later the quiet was broken as Stiles began to hear the sounds of voices in the distance. He recognised his father’s deep voice permeating through the floor, but it took him a moment to realise that he soft, higher voice was coming from Alayna.
Alayna. That’s right; she was here now, with him in the real world, alive and safe. And the others, they were still out there, and –
A sharp rapping suddenly sounded from the window, and Stiles’ head snapped up to see Scott standing outside on the rooftop, his mouth turned in soft, lopsided grin.
Stiles frowned at him, confused. Now why did this feel so familiar?
With a groan, Stiles got out of bed and made his way to the window, unlatching the lock and sliding it open.
Scott swung into the bedroom, his smile widening as he met Stiles’ eyes. “Hey,” he greeted.
Stiles gave him a tired but wary look. “Hey,” he said back, eyeing his friend carefully. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be under house arrest. My dad said he was going to call your mom, and –.”
“He did, and I sort of am, but I mean, it’s already two-thirty in the afternoon and Mom’s gone back to the hospital, so I gave myself an early release.”
Stiles frowned then glanced at his bedside clock, blinking for a moment in surprise as he realised that it was indeed the middle of the afternoon.
“Oh,” he said dumbly. “I didn’t think….” He shook his head slightly, then looked back up at Scott. “So did you tell your mom?” he asked.
Scott nodded. “Yeah.”
“How did she take it?”
“She said she wanted to smack us both over our heads for not telling her everything from the start, but that she was just glad we were both okay.” Scott paused, then asked, “Did you talk to your dad?”
“Yeah. He took it surprisingly well, though I’m sure after a few days he’ll want to talk about it again. And again. And again.”
“And he knows about Alayna?”
Stiles huffed, giving Scott a look. “Of course. I wasn’t going to bed without telling him there was someone else in the house. He would’ve killed me; after first interrogating her, of course.” Stiles groaned, running his hands tiredly over his face. “I should probably head down there,” he said, slowly getting back to his feet, the mattress dipping beneath him as he stood. “I have to make sure they’re both okay, and –.”
“Stiles, wait,” Scott interrupted. “I have to tell you something first.”
Stiles’ brows furrowed together in a frown. “What is it?”
The smile that had been pulling at Scott’s lips finally broke through, stretching across his face into a grin. “I talked to Lydia. They made it to a town on the border of Colorado and they managed to get a car. They’re going to drive through the day and night, and hopefully they’ll be here by tomorrow morning. She said they’re fine, that they’re all fine. Malia said there were a few things that happened, but considering it’s Malia, I wouldn’t be so sure that they were seri –.”
“You talked to them?” Stiles interrupted, his voice filled with disbelief. “You mean they’re actually okay, and… and –.”
“Yeah,” Scott repeated. “Yeah, they’re all okay, and they’ll be back home by tomorrow morning.”
Stiles found himself falling back onto the bed as his legs suddenly grew weak. He closed his eyes.
They were okay. Lydia, Malia, and Liam – they were all okay. They had survived, and they were alive, and they were okay. They had made it – they had actually made it.
It was finally over.
Without warning, Stiles suddenly found himself laughing. He felt the bed dip beside him and he opened his eyes to see Scott with his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair before looking up at Stiles with a smile and laughter of his own.
After a few moments their laughter died away, and Stiles let out a heavy sigh as he fell onto his back. “Well,” he said. “I guess all we have to worry about now is re-doing senior year. I don’t think there’s a box called “Spending a Month Trying to Kill a Hundred Year Old Psycho” to check off as an excuse for missing school.”
Scott leaned back on his hands beside Stiles. “Actually, we may have lucked out. Mom said that because of the ‘pandemic’, the last two weeks of school were cancelled. They’re going to run classes into July, so we might actually have a chance at graduating this year, with the rest of our class.”
Stiles raised his eyebrows incredulously. “Seriously?” he asked, sitting up on his elbows. He was silent for a moment, taking the information in, before letting out a disbelieving huff. “Great. I survived the mountains just to get killed by Coach at school. I had over a month to write a three-day Econ. Paper, and I didn’t write a single word. I doubt he’ll believe me if I said I was busy saving his life.”
“If it’s any consolation, Coach wouldn’t believe you no matter what you said.”
“That’s true.”
Eventually Stiles and Scott made their way downstairs where John and Alayna were sitting at the table, eating a late lunch. John expressed no surprise at Scott’s presence and instead simply told them both to sit down and eat, which they readily did. They spent the rest of the day inside, drifting between the couch and the table and late afternoon naps.
Stiles awoke the next morning to the sudden sensation that something was near by, and getting closer and closer with each passing second. He quickly got up and out of bed, almost tripping over himself as he ran to the window, pressing his fingers against the pane as he peered out into the morning dawn.
After a few minutes a grey car appeared around the corner, driving down the barren road until at last it came to a stop outside Stiles’ house. Stiles didn’t need to see inside to know who it was – he could already feel their feet stepping out onto the ground and their breaths breathing in the morning air.
Stiles ran out of his room, thumping loudly down the stairs and throwing the front door open just in time to see the sun’s light reflecting off the familiar shades of blonde, brown, and strawberry-blonde hair as they came out of the car.
For a moment, they all simply stared at each other. Then, before Stiles knew what was happening, he was being bombarded with arms and hugs, as Malia all but wrapped herself around him, squeezing him as hard as she could. Stiles hugged her back, holding onto her just as hard, taking in the fact that she was here, that she was alive, that she was safe.
A moment later Liam was at his side and Stiles let go of Malia to give the younger werewolf a hug as well, grabbing his arm and thumping his back a few times, as relief coursed through his body that the youngest member of their pack was safe.
Malia immediately started bombarding him with questions, asking if he was okay, if Scott was okay, asking how they’d made it out of the mountains and how they’d managed to finally kill Ran Gore. Stiles opened his mouth, attempting to answer the questions as quickly as he could, when he suddenly caught a pair of familiar blue eyes staring back at him.
Malia grew quiet as Stiles fell silent, and a moment later Stiles pulled away.
He came to a stop a few feet in front of Lydia. The two stared at each other for a long moment, neither saying a word. Stiles wondered what to say, how he should defend himself, how he should explain to her all and everything that had happened. He tried to gauge her expression, trying to tell if she was angry or upset or furious, but all he could see was her silent eyes staring back at him and her lips pressed tightly together in a firm line.
Stiles was prepared for her to yell at him, for her to chastise him, for her to continue the fight they’d had back in the train. What he wasn’t prepared for was her eyes filling with tears and her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him into a hug. Stiles was stunned for a moment, before he quickly wrapped his arms around her in return.
After a few minutes, Lydia finally pulled away, her eyes tinged with red but the tears now gone. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Stiles,” she said. “When you jumped from the train, I nearly… I nearly….” She closed her eyes, swallowed, then looked back up. “I’m still upset, I won’t pretend that I’m not. But I… I’ve realised….” She took another breath, steadying herself. “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry with you. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I just… I forgot what it was like, when my own powers started to show up. I felt so afraid, so alone, I didn’t want to tell anyone….” She paused for a moment, looking away before catching Stiles’ eye one last time. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry.”
Stiles could hear movement behind him and voices shout out as someone else – Scott – approached, but he ignored them as the burden of anger, fear, and guilt that he had held for so long finally begin to fade away. Staring at Lydia for a moment longer, he quietly said, “Thank you.” A few seconds later the front doors of the car opened and the two werewolves – Jacob and Daniel – stepped out.
“Hey,” Daniel said, giving Stiles a tight-lipped smile as he held out his hand.
Stiles quickly shook it and gave a smile in return. “Hey. Thanks for bringing them back here, and for taking care of them. You have no idea how much we –.”
Daniel quickly waved his hand, shaking his head. “Don’t. You make it sound as though we’d have left them on their own if we could’ve. Besides, we got an impromptu tour of the rest of the state. I have to admit, having lived where we have for so long, it’s rather easy to forget that there’s a world that exists outside the mountains.”
Stiles grinned and a moment later Scott came up beside them, and they all gave a run-down of what had happened after they parted. When they got to the part about Darius, both Daniel and Jacob were left stunned.
“What?” Jacob asked, his brows nearly disappearing beneath his hair. “But I – I thought he was dead! In the mountain, he went after Jacobson, and he – he – he died!”
Daniel looked just as stunned at the news that their pack alpha hadn’t been killed, as they had thought.
After a few more minutes of talking, Stiles could see movement from inside his house and figured it’d be best to go inside. When he asked Daniel and Jacob to join them, however, they quickly shook their heads. “No,” Daniel said. “We have to get back to Colorado. If what you’re saying is true, if Darius is indeed still alive, then we have to find him. He’s the last of our pack – he’s our alpha, our leader. We have to find him.”
Stiles wanted to argue, but he knew it was futile. In the end, all he could do was thank them – for saving him and Scott back in the blizzard, for helping them fight Ran Gore, for saving and taking care of their friends. For everything.
After they all finished saying their goodbyes, Daniel and Jacob got back in their car and drove down the road, disappearing into the distance. Stiles watched them go for a long moment, before he felt Malia’s hand tug at his arm, pulling him back inside the house.
Two weeks later, beyond what even Stiles could have imagined, he was sitting in his desk in Coach’s Econ class, hastily writing down as many notes as he could as Coach lectured at the front. He usually wouldn’t pay so much attention, he preferred learning through the textbook on his own time than from lectures, but he found that putting all his focus on one thing made it easier not to focus on anything else; and at the moment there were plenty of things he’d prefer to forget.
The bell rang, startling Stiles out of his demeanour, and he quickly shoved his books into his bag and exited the class. Econ was the last class of the day, and Stiles soon found himself making his way beside Scott, Lydia, and Malia as they headed to the parking lot; it felt just like old times, as though it were just another end of the day at school. And the crazy thing was, it was.
“So, Stiles,” Lydia said as she drew up beside him. “Have you decided what you’re doing in the fall? It’s probably the latest it can be to apply for college, but I’m sure they’ll still accept you, especially with your grades and considering all that’s happened with the… pandemic.”
Stiles took a breath. He had been thinking about it, actually. He’d been thinking about it a lot. With graduation soon upon them, he only had a short time to finally make up his mind.
Would he take a year off, like he’d initially wanted, or would he go to college, instead? He’d had some ideas of what he wanted to do, what careers he thought he’d might like to pursue. Ever since he was a kid, he’d wanted to go into law enforcement, like his dad. He had a mind for puzzles and mysteries, and he’d always loved trying to solve them. He’d hadn’t been the brains of their pack for the last three years for nothing, after all. But throughout those three years, he’d realised something: solving puzzles and games were one thing, but saving people’s lives was another; and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to reconcile the two together. At least not as legally as law enforcement would like. Though he still had some time left to figure that out, at least.
“I’ve applied to the same school as Scott,” Stiles said. “We’re gonna get an apartment together, hopefully somewhere off campus but still nearby. I’ll take general studies for the first semester, then after that… after that, I guess we’ll see what happens.”
“Well, at least you’re going to college, I guess,” Lydia replied. “Though I think you should start figuring out what you really want to do. College is important, but expensive.”
Stiles rolled his eyes but gave a good-natured smile. Typical Lydia.
But really, Stiles thought as they neared his jeep, he didn’t think it would matter what degree or career he chose. If college was anything like high school had been, he doubted he’d be spending much time in class. He probably wouldn’t be doing much of anything related to his studies.
But that was a concern for another time.
He and Scott drove to his house as Lydia and Malia followed behind them in Lydia’s car. They were going to drop their things off at Stiles’, then head off to an ice-cream shop downtown.
Liam was already at Stiles’ house waiting for them, and soon they were all inside the entryway as Stiles went upstairs to drop his bag in his room. When he passed by the guestroom, he saw Alayna sitting on the side of her bed, her back turned to him as she stared out the window. She was still wearing the same dress he had first met her in, albeit it was now clean. Melissa insisted that she would take her shopping soon to get more clothes, but she hadn’t had time yet to do it. Alayna hadn’t said a thing about it, though, and Stiles had a feeling that she never would.
Stepping a foot into the room, Stiles knocked lightly on the door. “Alayna?”
Alayna turned to him, staring at him for a moment before her lips turned upwards in a small smile. “Stiles,” she said. “How are you? How was your day at school?”
“It was good. Did lots of learning, and… and learning-type stuff.” He rested his arm against the doorframe, absently tapping his fist against the wood as he gave a small smile. “The guys and I are going for ice-cream – did you want to come? There’s a ton of stuff there you could try that I’m sure you probably haven’t seen before. You might like it.”
Alayna’s smile softened at Stiles’ words, but she quickly shook her head. “No thank you,” she said quietly. “Though I do enjoy ice-cream, I’m afraid I’m just not feeling up to going out, yet. Besides,” she nodded towards her book, which sat silently on her bedside table, “I’ve seen what people put on their ice-cream these days. I’m not entirely sure half of them were meant to be put on it, to be honest.”
“That’s the point – nowadays, you can put whatever you like on it. Sprinkles, fruit, chocolate sauce.”
Alayna raised an eyebrow. “Even ketchup?”
Stiles made a face. “Okay, maybe not whatever you like.”
Alayna smiled, almost letting out a laugh. Stiles stood a moment longer, his smile fading away as he stared at the young woman. He knew she was still upset, that she still wasn’t over what had happened in the mountains. A part of Stiles wondered if she ever would.
“Go,” Alayna said after a moment. “Have fun with your friends – you have certainly earned it.”
Stiles gave her one last look, before turning round. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll see you later, then.”
Stiles made his way into his own room, kicking the door shut so he could quickly change into another, cooler shirt.
Stiles grumbled as he searched around his room for a clean shirt, pushing aside piles of dirty clothes that hadn’t made it into the laundry basket. “Come on,” he muttered to himself. “One of these has to be clean.” He could hear everyone downstairs as they talked and chattered amongst themselves, their voices getting louder as they grew more impatient to leave.
Stiles finally found a shirt nearly pushed underneath the bed and he quickly pulled it out, intending to smell it to see if it was satisfactory enough to wear. As he grabbed it, though, the clothes it was tangled it came out too, and Stiles suddenly realised that these were the clothes he’d worn when he was in the mountains, when he’d fought and killed Ran Gore.
Stiles stared at them for a moment, unable to believe that he’d forgotten about them. They had to be, what? Five, six weeks old? Considering everything they’d gone through, they were probably better off thrown in the trash and burn –
Stiles’ hand suddenly brushed something along the side of the shirt’s pocket, and a course of heat suddenly shot through his arm, pulsating throughout the rest of his body. His movements came to a halt, his body growing completely still.
After a moment he brushed his fingers against the fabric again, feeling another course of heat flutter through his body before he slid his hand inside the pocket and pulled it back out, opening his palm in front of him.
The emerald shard that he had picked up back in the mountain sat in front of him, its colour dull and edges scuffed as it reflected dully in the light. Stiles stared at it, unable to tear his eyes away.
He had… he had completely forgotten about it. Somehow, through everything that had happened – escaping the mountain, jumping off the train, fighting Ran Gore – it had still somehow stayed in his pocket. After all this time, it was still there….
After a moment the shard began to grow warm against his skin, and Stiles found himself closing his eyes as he took a long, deep breath. He opened his eyes back up, blinking a few times as he felt his fingers clench into fists, his muscles tightening beneath his skin.
Another feeling of warmth echoed through Stiles’ skin and he closed his eyes once more, taking another breath, his hand drawing against his chest. Everything in him was growing warm, growing strong; he could even swear his eyes were beginning to get ho –
“STILES!”
Stiles’ eyes snapped open and he jerked, blinking rapidly as Malia’s voice sounded again. “STILES, GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE OR WE’RE LEAVING WITHOUT YOU!”
Stiles blinked a few more times, suddenly feeling out of breath. He opened his hand and looked at the emerald shard nestled within it, as small and worn as it had been before. Stiles stared at it a moment longer, before he placed it back in the shirt’s pocket and stuffed it back under his bed. He quickly rose to his feet, looking quickly around for another shirt to grab. He could hear Scott’s voice say something, then a second later both Malia, Lydia, and Liam’s voices were shouting in unison. Malia’s voice could easily be heard above the rest: “WHAT?! How could you not tell us that you can shift to a full-wolf?!”
Stiles threw open his door before shutting it tightly behind him and making his way towards the stairs, unable to stop the smile that spread across his face as he listened to his friends yell at Scott.
Though nothing had really changed, everything was now different. After all that had happened in the mountains – escaping Ran Gore, being chased through a blizzard, finding an entire pack of men, women, and children dead, fighting Ran Gore to his death – Stiles wasn’t sure he could ever be the same. He still didn’t really know what he was going to do with his life, whether he’d simply accept the destiny this prophecy had apparently given him, or whether he’d continue on the path he had always thought he’d have for himself. He still didn’t know what it meant to be a Blessed, or even an Elemental. He’d barely used his powers at all since he’d gotten back, he didn’t have a clue what all he could do with now four different elements at his fingertips; and with regards to the connection he had with Scott, he was completely in the dark. Though so much had happened, he still didn’t really know anything at all.
“Stiles, come on,” Lydia said as Stiles reached the last step. “Let’s go before the heat melts the ice-cream before we get there.”
Everyone headed out the door, talking about which kind of dessert they’d get and what all they’d put on it. As the last of them left, Stiles caught Scott’s eye, who gave him a quick smile before heading out the door himself. Stiles followed after him, closing the door and locking it. He watched as everyone scrambled into the jeep, jockeying for the most comfortable spot.
Maybe he didn’t know anything, Stiles thought as he stared. Maybe he didn’t have a single clue what was going on, or what would happen in the future. But he wasn’t alone, now. It wasn’t just him and Scott anymore; it was him, Scott, his dad, Alayna, Lydia, Malia and Liam – he had an entire pack now behind him, people who would stand by him no matter what, who would do everything to help him, even when he didn’t know how to help himself.
A small smile tugged at Stiles’ lips as he watched Malia and Liam argue like the sister and brother they were, and as Lydia sat beside them with a put-upon frown as she struggled to ignore them. Scott sat in the passenger’s seat, giving him a smile as they all waited for him to get in.
And with a small smile of his own, Stiles went.