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A Deal with the Devil

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Darkness. That's the first thing I see as I open my eyes. I can feel my eyes rapidly blinking, almost like the fluttering of a butterfly's wings, as my eyes try to adjust. At first, all I manage to see are unrecognizable shapes accompanied by a sea of darkness. It takes me a minute before the shapes around the room turn into outlines of figures that I would know anywhere. People. 

Why were there people surrounding me? What's going on? Where am I?

 At my own inner panic, I hear a strange beeping noise that is continually getting faster and faster, louder and louder, but the sound is so far away. My heart is beating so fast that it feels as if it's about to burst from my chest. I can vaguely hear noise... no, voices of people, but I can't understand what they're saying over the sound of my pounding heart in my ears. I can feel hands all over my body trying to hold me down. This only seems to make me struggle even more. When had I began to struggle? Beating increasingly faster by the second, my heart, I'd think it impossible to get any faster. I can just barely think, and there are only three words that stay on repeat in my mind. 

I wake in bed gasping, desperately trying to fill my constricting lungs with air. I can feel arms wrap around me, and I am brought back to my nightmare. I fight to free myself and seeming only to make it worse as the pair of arms tighten around me; I hear what sounds like someone screaming only to find out it's my own voice. A light is turned on to the right of me, but I hardly notice. Stuck in my own subconscious, I can vaguely hear someone speaking soothing words in my ear, an attempt to calm me. Stiles . Repeated over and over as if begging , calling, for me. The scent of axe body wash fills my senses bringing me back to reality and the feeling of someone stroking my head. As I pull my head off of a shoulder, a face comes into my line of sight, successfully putting an end to my struggles. My mind becoming empty to accommodate for the person in front of me. Green. Eyes that seem to see into my soul. Eyes that seem to plead and search for something, a sign that I'm okay. These are the eyes of someone I could never hurt, never fear. Someone I would always love.

"Derek,' I breathed. I could tell from the moment I say his name that I am no longer still stuck in the nightmare. That I am his fiance. That I'm me. His eyes turn from panic to ones of comfort and concern.

"Another one," Derek says, voice filled with worry. He moves to gently caress my face with a loving look. A look you could never forget. A look that used to make me squirm but now accompanies with it a warm fuzzy feeling inside me.

"Yeah," I sigh. I bring my hand up towards my face, taking hold of his hand as he began to pull away. I intertwine our fingers and turn my head to place a soft kiss on his palm. "Let's go back to sleep".

We shuffle around in our bed, getting into a familiar position. As I lay in bed, back to chest, hand in hand, I try to sleep knowing that I have to get up early and head to the gallery to do the finishing touches before the grand opening. The room is silent except for the soft breaths that caress my neck. Sleeping doesn't come easy. My thoughts, filled with questions about my dream, prevent me from succumbing into my subconsciousness. Derek's arms tighten around me as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking about.

"Go to sleep, Stiles. You're safe. I'll be here when you wake up," he whispers. More words of comfort are said that are then accompanied by a kiss on my neck so soft as if it was barely there. "I love you".

"I love you too," I say. I am soon drifting into the dreamland that is now more welcome than before, but I can't help the thought that accompanies me to sleep. What if I could change everything? What if I could go back?

~Flashback~

I was on my feet, running toward Deaton's infirmary. Everything else faded away. I could see them all, the pack, lying spread around the room. In the center of the room was Derek. I watched as he coughed and gurgled on his own blood. Black seemed to consume his entire body with no visible source. I look to Deaton only to see my mirrored expression of panic.(As much as Deaton shows anyway) I made my way over to him. I reached for Derek's hand, but it was cold. This brings about a new wave of panic. I looked around the room, and all I saw was death. The room reeked of it. Deaton then, and only then, starts talking. The most I've ever heard him talk. Everyone was ambushed in the woods during a full moon. Apparently, Derek noticed something was off, but everyone just chalked it down to him being his-

" What is that forsaken term you bestowed upon Derek. Ah yes, Sourwolf." Somehow the Argents knew just where they'd be. They were cornered and picked off. Shot with lethal doses of wolfsbane, they didn't stand a chance. The Argents just left them for dead. Derek went back and forth until he was able to get all of the pack here.

"There was nothing I could do Stiles, they were already gone."

Derek, he wouldn't let anyone help him until he had everyone at the infirmary. By then, it was too late. The dose Derek inhaled is rare and out of reach. Now it's just a matter of time.

I listen as I grasp Derek's hand in mine and stroke his head with the other. Everyone's gone, and now I might have to lose Derek too. My vision gets blurred. That when I realize that I'm crying. Full body sobs raked throughout my body.

Then, Derek just stops. I look up at him to see my worst fear come true. Derek's not breathing. He's not brerathing.

nononono. Distantly, I can here someone screaming.

I had to do something. I can't let it end like this. There's got to be something. Anything. I lay there hunched over Derek's cold lifeless body.

Derek? Derek, please. Come back to me. To us. We only just started and I can't lose you now. What about our promise. You said you'd never leave me like my mother did. Here I lay clutching the remains of what once was and what could've been. My arms are unrelenting in its hold over Derek. Over my humanity.

I could vaguely here the sounds of broken sobs echoing in the night, the sound of shattered hope. The sound was almost inhuman, feral. Realization hit me as I cried for the loss of Derek, for the broken promises and for our pack. None of this would have happened if I'd paid attention. I haven't been sleeping well. Nightmares welcome me as I sleep. Shadows follow me as I wake. Maybe, if I'd just told them instead of trying to do this on my own, they could've helped. Then I would have been more aware, focused. Deaton warned me, and I was too stupid to listen. You should tell them Stiles.

Why did it have to end like this?

I can't give up. Not after everything. You hear me Derek!

Frantically, I initiate an unskilled attempt to revive his heart. We did not suffer through this past year for you to die on me now. We were progressing Derek. Don't leave after we've just began.

Each thought is accompanied by my rhythmic pounding on his chest.

Please... No No No! Derek ! Wake up Derek, just wake up!

Only he wouldn't, and I knew that. There was no waking up from this.

Let me in, Stiles. Let me in.

"What does that even mean! NO! You don't get to use this as a way to manipulate me. You're not real!" My voice fades into nothing in anticipation of an answer. Deaton staring in shock.

"Who are you talking to Mr. Stillinski." I ignore him.

Derek, I sob . It's my fault. I let this happen, now it's me who will drag you out of it. Even if I have to go to Hell to bring you back.

Let me in. Just let me in.

I glance around as the endless chant welcomes me in my head.

Stiles.

Stop it! Leave me alone.

Let me in .

There has to be another way. It can't end like this.

LET ME IN STILES!

Nononono! You're not real! Get out of my head.

Let me in, Stiles. It's the only way. Would you risk it? I'm your only hope Stiles. Let me in. It's the only way.

Sobs welcome my traumatized soul at the realization that this is it. This is how it all ends. Eveyone is dead and I might just go crazy. Right here, right now. Shaking, I clutch Derek's hand in mine.

I'm sorry, Derek. A single tear falls on our conjoined hands. If this is the only way...

I feel it then, the rumbling of the Earth beneath my feet as my power seems to flow right through me. A gasp escapes me at the sight of a blinding light began to surround our bodies. Hope filled me instantly. This light, beautiful and blinding, was not a sign for someone going dark. It gave me hope that, maybe, I'll survive this and still be me. Still good relatively speaking.

A smile makes its way onto my face as I welcome the warmth and beauty that encompasses us.

Then, everything changed.

What was once comfortable warmth soon turned into a scolding heat. The force of it turns my skin to fire.

Opening my eyes in search of the new source of my increasing discomfort, I am welcomed by darkness. Smothering black smoke took the place of the light. It's then I realize. It's then I lose all hope. It's then I am clutched by the darkness within. It's then I realize all too late.

A heartbeat comes to a stuttering beginning beneath my clasped hands. I find myself unable to feel anything. The man I love is alive and I feel nothing.

"Stiles?" Derek breathes.

That's the last thing I hear before darkness consumed me.

~ End Flashback~

Memories of the past never leave me. That is a day I'd never forget. I glance down at Derek as the dawn begins to break. Beautiful. It's moments like these that I love the most. To see Derek unplaqued by worry and guilt. That night, the Hale pack was gone. Defeated by the Argents, who had someone on the inside. It doesn't even matter, because, tonight, I'm going to go back. Tonight, I'm going to make sure this never happened. Tonight, I'm going back to the beginning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the character's just the plot.

 

Chapter 2: Revertere

~Previously~

Tonight, I'm going back to the beginning.

~

All day, I had been making preparations. Every move I made was meticulous and well calculated. If anyone months ago had saw me now, they would scoff with a little shake of their head and say ‘Stiles? I know my kid, and if there is anything I’ve learned, it’s that never, for the life of him, can sit his ass down.’ Or ‘Stiles, that spaz (chuckles)… yeah, ok. ’ Boyd would probably just look never really showing what he thought other than the joining in on the teasing smirks and disbelief that encompassed the room. It’s only now that I’ve had the chance to really sit down and write. Derek having gone on his afternoon run shouldn’t be back for some time.

After what happened with Matt and the whole Kanima situation with Gerard that ended in my kidnapping, I had been seeing Ms. Morrell for weekly counseling sessions in school. The thing is, I never really trust her or Deaton, for that matter. They always rubbed me the wrong way with how much they seemed to omit and give information at the perfect times. How, no matter what they told you, somehow, later down the line, something comes crashing down in your face because of something that they failed to mention at that time. I hated the way that we, the pack, managed to get into so much danger, but, somehow, they were never targeted. From the very beginning, Deaton had found himself in the perfect position to manipulate us, because what did we know? For all we knew, he was the old Hale Pack Emissary; he knew all things Hale territory. After Scott was turned, we had become hugely dependant on the info Deaton supplied.

Scott scoffed at my distrust for Deaton writing it off as my jealousy of him being a wolf and not having time for me because of his work and Allison. Alison, Allison, Allison. Every single fucking conversation always went back to her. Apparently, Scott couldn’t separate his stupid dick from his own morals and ego for a goddamn second. Of course, like always, I submerged my own disgusted disbelief, because I knew he didn’t mean it that way, but Scott could be so damn clueless sometimes that I just want to hit him upside his head a few times. Knowing me, I actually did a few times. Yep, I didn’t regret a thing; my hand on the other hand was something else.

Thinking back, I’m upset I didn’t forgo Scott’s ego and knock him down a few pegs. I’m so damn frustrated that I didn’t put an end to his unhealthy codependence on Allison. Even after what they did-

It wasn’t until my words were becoming smeared and my vision blurred that I realize how much I had let my thoughts consume me. Closing my journal, I lock it in the drawer of my desk shaking at the very thoughts. My tears weren’t those of anguish but those of anger, anger at myself, anger at the Argents, anger at Deaton…at Scott. And that’s how Derek found me, curled in on myself on the floor of my childhood room. Recently, I have been a whirlwind of emotions, and looking up at Derek and seeing the utter despair and pain in his eyes set off a whole new round for me. Only recently have I actually confronted what occurred that night. No one else knows what really happened but me. I mean Deaton knew or could have guessed parts of it based his knowledge of Beacon Hills, my parents and my personality changes that led up to the devastation, but he wasn’t necessarily part of the equation anymore. When that light overwhelmed me and the darkness overpowered and consumed me, I was long gone, just along for the ride. I blacked out, came to with Deaton’s bloody corps on the floor, and Derek passed out in my arms. What scared me the most about Deaton’s death was the way that he died. When I say bloody, I don’t mean a body littered with gashed and open wounds bleeding out on the floor. Deaton died with tears of blood dripping down his face, blood undulating down from his ears, with hands clutching his head. He died in a way that left me haunted and almost filled with pity.

It’s been months since everything happened. Earlier this morning, I said that the pack was destroyed by the Argents I meant that in every way not just death. Scott manipulated by Allison, Derek manipulated by Kate, Derek’s Uncle murdered while in a coma by Kate, Isaac, Boyd and Erica tortured by Gerard. I never actually got to meet his uncle, but I knew he didn’t deserve what happened to him. The thing is I can’t even piece together how it all happened. That entire year was filled with memory/time lapses. One minute I’m going to bed for school tomorrow, the next I come to while walking to my car from the Argent house days later. The only reason Derek survived was because we mated that night. Sure we were together before then, but after losing his pack, he was feral, the only think that could save him was to please his wolf, redirect its focus. To mate. I never told the pack what was happening to me, but outside the pack, Deaton must’ve known or figured it out that night.

I spent months after that trying to pick up the pieces. Derek moved in to my childhood home to watch over me. Even though he tried to hide it, I knew how much guilt that night held over him.

At some point after Derek found me, we migrated onto the couch where we sat cuddled up to one another offering little comfort in soft affectionate kisses and silent whispered promises. I can’t even imagine what kind of future we could possibly have with this holding over on us. That’s how we fell asleep, me lying barricaded in his arms, my head on his and his against my chest. It always ended like this. Whenever Derek found me like that, it was always a trigger for him and it turned from him comforting me to falling into hysterics himself.

Turning to press a kiss to his head, I breathe in the scent on home and safe. My nose turns up when it gets a whiff of the underlying scent of grief, depression and hurt. Pulling his shirt, I expose the tail end if the scar of the wolfsbane entry wound. He hasn’t been able to heal much since then. He lost nearly everything that night short of losing his mate, short of losing me. The thing is, I’m not Derek’s true mate. Wolves can have multiple mates, but they only have one true mate. When we reach a stage of maturity, our true mate’s name reveals itself to us on the most vulnerable and intimate spot, just below the right side of your neck where the mate bite is to go. It’s not much for me to just refocus my attention upwards and read the name that will forever be a reminder of our fate. I read the name with grief. Grief for the pain Derek went through as a child because of the Argents. In beautiful print reads the name Paige Krasikeva. Pulling back with a final kiss to his head, I go to get up when arms pull me back.

“Sti” Sleep ridden; Derek looks into me with heavy lids. “Wha-

I shush him as I gently lift his head into a kiss. I run my hand through his hair as I run my right thumb across his lips. Pressing into me, Derek runs his nose across the surface of my neck soaking in as much as possible. Sighing in contentment, he presses a single kiss to the mating bite just above my right collar. I couldn’t let him claim me on the left side knowing what I was going to do. Leaning back, a soft smile on my face, I press another kiss to his head, breathing in before releasing a whisper into his hair. “Come on Der lets go to bed.”

I stayed there as long as I could, but I knew I would have to get up at some point to do what I needed to do. Waiting until Derek’s breathing and heartbeat found a low even rhythm. Looking at the clock, I realize that it’s almost midnight. As I go to get up, I am welcomed by unconscious whimpers as the werewolf beside me curls deeper into me, pressing his nose into my chest. Releasing his unrelenting grip, I press a kiss to his hands as I settle them in the cradle left in my absence. Placing a final kiss, I say one final thing, a whisper on his skin. I make my way out of the house and towards the Nemeton.

Żegnaj, moja miłość, moje serce. Kocham Cię. Możemy zobaczyć siebie nawzajem ponownie.

Goodbye my love, my heart. I love you. May we see eachother again.

Sitting there, at the center of the Nemeton, at the center of Beacon Hills, I close my eyes and the thrum of power flow through the earth, through me. I can hear the whistle of the wind flow throughout the forest, almost playing the tune of a song. I can feel the pull of the moon as its light beats down onto my skin. I can feel the creatures of the night, their power connected to the Nemeton thus creating an indirect connection to me. Releasing a collected breath, my eyes shoot open as I let that power consume me, that power that I fought so hard to forget of that night. The power that killed my pack will be the power that saves them. My eyes emit a brilliant scarlet hue filtering the once beautiful surroundings into an angry red. Darkness encompasses my soul. That darkness flows from me as the haze consumes me once more. The words I seek forcefully flows from my mouth echoing in the abandoned woodland. A satisfying smirk descends onto my face as I welcome the darkness that’ll bring me to my family.

Meus est orbis, perdidit. Deleantur innocents. Ego vadam revertar. ad initium.
Et salvabit eosRevertere. Reverte ut in praeteritis Revertere. Revertere. Revertere!

My world was destroyed

Slaughtered innocents

I will go back

To save them all.

To the beginning

Return

Return to the past

Just when I thought I was home free, a thunderous storm of lightning strikes down around me just before a figure appears before my eyes. Before I even have time to react, a handsome man with dark hair flashes to me with an almost angelic grace before he presses a hand to my head. The last thing I hear is “Protect them Guardian” before my vision is consumed by an overpowering white light. The last thing that flashes through my mind is who is this guy and why is he wearing a trench coat. Really, Lydia would so not approve.