Dean picked up the phone on the third ring, he looked at the name on the display and felt his stomach drop slightly. Their dad had been missing for months with no sign of him, Jess was dead, Sam was only just starting to get over the serious anger issues he had been experiencing, and Dean was only just holding it together. He flipped open the phone, already running a hand across his face to wipe the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes. "Bobby?" "Dean," Bobby greeted, his voice crackling over the line, "Have you heard from him?" "No. I'm sorry Dean." Bobby sighed, "But I think I might know where he's going to be next." Dean sat up straight in the bed, looking across at Sam who was sat at the kitchen table. Sam was gazing at Dean, his dark brown hair was much longer than Dean ever remembered it being, his hazel eyes full of despair as he searched through their dad's journal for any sign of him. "Hang on Bobby, I'm going to put you on speaker." Dean swung his legs out of the motel bed, his bare feet hitting the thin carpet, he winced slightly as his put his weight through his leg, his ankle still not completely healed from their last hunt. He put his phone on speaker and placed it on the table, pouring himself a cup of coffee and pulling up a chair as Bobby talked. "There's something you boys should probably know and I doubt your dad ever told you." Dean felt his shoulders sag, it seemed there was a lot their dad hadn't told them before pulling his disappearing act.
"It's about your mum." Bobby said, "What about her?" Sam asked, immediately sitting up straighter and locking eyes with Dean. "Your mum had a sister, Claudia." Dean looked to Sam, shock registering on both their faces. "She moved to a town on the outskirts of California, your dad only mentioned her once, I think you went to visit her when your mum was pregnant with Sam." Dean cast his mind back, his vibrant green eyes getting lost in thought, he couldn't remember any trip like that, his earliest memory was his mother's death, everything else came afterwards. "I don't remember." He said quietly, hating how much his voice shook. "Why do you think he would go there?" Sam said slowly, trying to piece together the information, already searching for Claudia Campbell in the databases. "Well, there's been a lot of strange activity in the town in the last few years, most of the evidence seems to have disappeared, there's never been anything concrete, but people have died, animal attacks. Something doesn't add up." Bobby said gently, trying to let them get over the shock of finding out they had an aunt. "Most recently, there's reports of strange things happening at an old graveyard just outside of town. Maybe, I don't know," Dean could practically hear Bobby scratching at his beard, "It might be something your dad might check out. Maybe even check on your aunt while he's there." Bobby finished. "Okay, well, thanks Bobby. We'll check it out." Sam said, speaking into the silence, Dean still sat there looking dumbfounded, why hadn't their dad told them they had an aunt? He wondered what she was like, if she looked like their mum? If she remembered Dean? "What's the name of the place?" Sam asked his voice solid and dependable, drawing Dean back into the conversation. "It's called Beacon Hills."
Sam researched as they drove, the rumble of the impala steady under Dean the only thing steadying him as Sam informed him of what he found. "She's dead." He had said quietly an hour or so into the drive. "She died just over eight years ago." Dean had gripped the wheel tighter, his foot pressed harder on the accelerator, as if by somehow getting there faster it would make it not true. Another person taken from him before he'd gotten the chance to know them. "How?" He asked, his throat tight, "The police report says frontotemporal dementia." Dean sighed, at least it sounded normal, not something supernatural. "She got married to a cop." Sam grinned, seeing the grim expression pass Dean's face, "Great, just want we need." "On the plus side, it might be handy to have a cop on our side if it turns out there is a ghost there." Sam said hopefully, trying to bring a smile to his brothers face. "Yeah, sure. What else?" Dean replied, turning off the highway after spotting the sign for Beacon Hills. "She had a kid." That brought Dean up short, "We've got a cousin?" "Yeah, don't know much about him, he was there when his mum died, poor kid was only ten. He seems like a decent enough kid, smart, his grades are good. Looks like he's got a good group of friends around him." Dean glanced over at the laptop, "What the hell are you looking at now?" "His facebook page." "His what page?" Sam rolled his eyes, "Facebook Dean. It's a social networking site." Dean frowned, "Whatever man, let's just look at this ghost thing." He wasn't going to admit that he was actually kind of excited to meet this kid. He wondered what he would be like, if he would be like Sam was at that age, god he hoped not, Sam had been such a pain in the ass at eighteen, before he ran off for college of course.
"Okay, well, we've got people disappearing, there's a rumour that people are being buried alive, kids with glowing eyes," Sam trailed off and then sighed heavily, "If I'm honest, there's so much paperwork here I don't even know where to start. And I'm still trying to get over the fact that there's a whole other side to our family that we didn't even know about." Dean nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I know, it's a lot to take in." He said solemnly as they entered the outskirts of town. "Where should we go?" Dean asked, unsure what to do now that they were here. "Probably go meet our uncle. He'll be at the sheriff's office." Dean shrugged, he trusted that Sam would have the answers, he usually did. They drove down the quiet roads and pulled into the station in the late afternoon, turning off the rumble of the impala. "How do you want to do this?" Dean said pulling out his box of fake badges. Sam put his hand on the lid of the box and slowly closed it, "Maybe we go with the truth for once?" Dean shrugged, "Sure thing, but don't say I didn't tell you when this all blows up in our faces." "Come on." Sam said grinning and getting out of the car, "It won't be that bad." They walked across the car park, Dean's feet felt like a dead weight as they strode towards the station. There was too much that was unexplained going on in this town, he would suggest that maybe his uncle and cousin found somewhere safer to live.
Dean let out a little sigh of relief as the door opened and they walked into an air conditioned station. Sam was a step ahead of him and was already at the front desk, "Hi, we're hoping to talk to Sheriff Stilinski if he's free?" The guy on the desk looked around the same age as Sam, and he had that same worried expression, like there was too much going on that he didn't understand. "Is he expecting you?" Sam glanced to Dean, "Erm, no, not really." "Well can I let him know what it's regarding?" "It's a private matter." Dean growled, he wasn't about to tell this deputy about all the shit going on in his life right now. "Well, you'll have to wait, he's in with Stiles at the moment." "Stiles?" Sam asked, not sure if he'd heard the guy right. The man rolled his eyes, "Stiles. His kid. You must be from out of town. Everyone here knows Stiles." "Great." Dean said brightly, marching towards the office, "We need to talk to him too." He was only a foot from the door when the deputy managed to get back in front of him, his hand was against Dean's chest and Dean could literally feel the heat radiating from him. How hot did this guy run? "Sorry." Sam said apologizing and pulling Dean to the seats nearby. "My brother's impatient. We'll wait right here until he's free." Dean slumped into his seat, he wasn't happy about this. He wasn't used to just sitting waiting to be seen. It made him nervous, gave him time to think, and right now he hated thinking, he just wanted to act.
"Stiles, I told you, no." They could hear the Sheriff's voice clearly as they sat in the seats waiting for him. "Dad, look, I promise, it's not dangerous." Dean fought back a laugh, it was obvious that whatever the kid was planning it was going to be dangerous, he could tell from the worry in the Sheriff's voice. "You say that every time, and look what's happened. You've been beaten up, kidnapped, knocked out. Your car has been nearly destroyed over and over. Every time you say that you have to do it. Well, just let Scott deal with this one. Please Stiles." There was silence for a moment. "What kind of person would I be if I just let my best friend walk into danger and didn't even try to help him?" Stiles said quietly. "I can't do that dad. And we're the only ones who can do anything about it. Nobody else can. I have to help if I can. I'm not asking for permission. I'm asking for you to not handcuff me again." Sam was the one grinning this time, despite the obvious dangerous situation that Stiles was going to put himself in. Dean glanced across and saw that the deputy was no longer at his desk, he nudged Sam who nodded and they stood up quickly knocking on the door.
There was a moment of silence before the door opened to reveal a man around their dads age. "Can I help you?" He said briskly, Dean seemed lost for words so Sam spoke up, "Actually yes, Sheriff Stilinski?" "Yes. And you are?" "It's kind of a long story. Can we come in?" The Sheriff opened the door wider and motioned them inside. "Stiles, you can leave. We can talk about this at home later." Sam looked at the kid rising from the chair, he had dark brown hair, his eyes almost the same hazel as his own. He was a nice looking kid, healthy, he reminded Sam of himself a few years ago. "Actually Sheriff, we need to talk to Stiles too." Sam watched as the kids eyes widened and he went a shade paler. The Sheriff looked to Stiles, a look that Dean had seen a thousand times, what have you got yourself into now kind of look. He had seen that look in his father's eyes too many times over the years. "Well, come in, sit down." The Sheriff said, offering them the chairs opposite his desk. Stiles stood quietly at the side of his dad's desk, although Dean had a feeling that he wasn't usually so quiet. "Erm, well, yeah, I'm not sure how to start with this." Sam said, glancing to Dean for help. Dean finally found his voice and started with the simplest fact. "Our mother was Mary Campbell. Our father is John Winchester." The Sheriff sat in silence for a moment, obviously letting the information sink in, Stiles was looking to him in confusion, obviously waiting for an explanation. "So you'd be Dean? And Sam is it?" The Sheriff said eventually. Dean let go of the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Sam nodded enthusiastically. Stilinski stood up from his desk and strode around to give them a hug, "Sorry, this is kind of a shock, I see it now Dean, you haven't changed." Dean grinned back, almost instantly at ease, "And Sam, god, last time I saw you, you were still a bump in your mum's belly." He smile faded, "I'm sorry about your mum." Sam tried to shrug it off, but he couldn't help the tightness in his throat, this man had known their mum, he must have known what a loss it was to them.
"Hello?" Stiles called out from the side of the room, "Anyone fancy telling me what's going on here?" Stilinski swiped a hand across his face, no doubt just trying to give himself a moment to recover. "Stiles, these are your cousins." It was comical the way that Stile's mouth dropped open and then hung there, the shock wiping his features clean, and for the first time he looked like a kid. "You're going to swallow a fly if you stay like that." Dean said a minute later which seemed to bring Stiles crashing back into the room. "What? How? Who? How? What!?" He said quickly his hands waving all over the place as he talked. "Your mum had a sister. She had two boys, Dean and Sam, we never got to meet you," He gestured to Sam, "We were going to come over for the Christmas holidays, but then, everything happened, and John, he well, he didn't want us there." He looked to Den with sorrow in his eyes, "I'm sorry we weren't there for you. I know that time was difficult." Dean shrugged, not willing to show how touched he was by the care in this man's voice. "It's no big deal. Look, the reason we're here now, our dad's missing. We only found out about you yesterday, and we thought maybe he might have made an appearance?" Stilinski sighed, wiping a hand across his eyes, "I'm sorry boys, I haven't seen your dad in over twenty years." The silence weighed heavy on them. The door opened suddenly and the deputy stuck his head in, he glowered at Dean, and Dean was sure this time that he eyes really did glow. "Sheriff, there's a phone call for you." "Thanks Parrish." "You want me to get rid of these two for you?" "No, it's fine. Parrish, these are my nephews, Dean and Sam Winchester." Parrish nodded in their direction, but he still looked angry. "I've got to go take this call, you guys okay for a minute?" He look was directed at Stiles, "Yes dad, unless you want to go lock me in one of the cells while you take your two minute phone call?" He answered sarcastically. Dean fought back a grin, "Don't tempt me." Stilinski said as he disappeared out of the door.
Stiles observed the two men while they sat there, he guessed they were probably just as shocked as his was that he had cousins, two of them, and they were kind of scary looking actually, they would have made Derek look like a kicked puppy. He tried not to grin at his own thoughts. "So, I guess this is a shock for you too?" The younger one asked, he was Sam, Sam Winchester, he'd heard that name somewhere before he was sure, seen it written down somewhere. "Yeah, you could say that. Usually you know, I'm a lot more competent at stringing together sentences, but when family members pop up out of nowhere, it's kind of a lot to wrap my head around." Stiles said, still thinking about the name Winchester. He was sure he had read it somewhere. He pushed away from the windowsill and strolled around the office, moving around seemed to help slightly, he didn't know he was practically pacing. "Geez, kid, can you give it a rest? You're making me dizzy." Dean said, "Sorry grandpa." Stiles said sarcastically automatically, and then realized what he'd done. He looked to Dean and was glad to see he was grinning, Stiles felt a grin on his own lips, the first genuine one since last month, since Donovan, no, he couldn't think about that. Not right now. He had to figure out where he knew the name Winchester from. He looked and saw Sam was smiling too. "What? I got something on my face?" Sam grin widened, "No, just you're more like Dean than I first thought." Dean and Stiles both managed to look offended, before glancing at each other and smiling. There was a moment of silence before Stiles took up his train of thought again, "I think I've seen your name before somewhere, Winchester, you've not got any famous relatives? Maybe that might appear in my history class?" Sam looked to Dean, "Don't look at me, you're the nerd." Sam laughed, "Jerk." "Bitch." Stiles looked to them like they maybe were a little bit crazy after all. Sam sobered up, "No. Sorry. Just the three of us as far as I know, well as far as I knew. Bit weird to find out we've suddenly got extra family." Stiles let out a low chuckle, "Tell me about it." "So," Dean asked, "What about you? Is it just you and your dad?" "Yeah." Stiles said quietly, "My mum died a few years ago. It's just the two of us." Dean winced at the sorrow in Stiles' voice. "I'm sorry Stiles. I know it's, well, there's no words for it." Stiles nodded, "Yeah, I guess you guys know that."
Stiles' glanced at the clock on the wall, he needed to get going, Scott and Theo would be here any time. He needed to have an answer for them about what was out in that graveyard. He couldn't send them in blind. Stiles wasn't sure why, but he was pretty sure it wasn't another chimera, it felt worse somehow, like it was pulling every inch of fear, despair, sorrow and guilt to the surface, like it was wiping any memory of happiness from him. He hadn't dared to go out there again, but he had to, they had to go tonight, they needed to figure out what it was before more people died. Maybe if he managed to save one person it might somehow make up for Donovan, maybe. "Kid you okay?" Stiles looked at Dean's worried face, he must have zoned out for a moment there, "Sorry, just thinking." "Anything we can help with?" Sam asked, his voice laced with concern. Stiles sighed, he barely knew these guys, and yet he felt like they were good guys, he felt like he could trust them, not at all how he had felt with Theo. Theo who knew his worst secret. The fact that he was a murderer. He sighed heavily, he wasn't going to drag these guys into his mess. "Nah, just you know, schoolwork to do."
The door banged open suddenly making the three of them jump. Theo and Scott were there, out of breath, looking like they'd run all the way from school. It took Stiles a second to register that both Sam and Dean had weapons drawn and pointing at Scott and Theo. In the next moment they were already lowering them, as if assessing the threat and deciding there was none. It was the next second when all things went to hell. Stiles remembered where he had seen the name Winchester at the exact same time that Theo lost control and his eyes glowed amber. Dean's gun was back at eye level within the next second, Sam and Scott already trying to calm the other two down. "What the hell are you?" Dean demanded, not seeming to care that the door was still wide open. Stiles ran across the room and slammed the door shut before stepping in front of Dean's gun. "Dean, calm down, they are okay." "Kid, move out of my way. I don't want you getting hurt." Sam sighed, "Dean, you're not about to shoot Stiles." "I'm considering it." Dean replied still glaring at Theo. "Sure, if you're going to shoot me then the middle of the police station is definitely the right place to do it if you want to spend the rest of your life in prison. I mean I've had enough guns pointed at my head, it's kind of getting boring, maybe spice it up and actually shooting me would be good." Stiles replied sarcastically. Dean couldn't help but grin, he liked the kids style. He took a step backwards and lowered the gun slightly but didn't put it away, he was still ready to shoot at a moment's notice. "You going to tell me what the hell is going on Stiles?" Scott asked at the same time as Dean. "You said you're dad's name is John?" Sam nodded, "Well, I read his name, in the Argent's journals. He was a hunter." "Who the hell are the Argents?" Dean demanded, Sam rolled his eyes, "Dad worked with a guy, was it Gerard Argent maybe? I'm sure I've read his name in dad's journal. It was years ago, back when he first started out. I'm sure I saw the name Argent the other day." "Fine." Dean replied gruffly, his hand still tight on his gun. "You aren't a hunter though." He said to Theo, "So what are you?" Stiles shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Hey, how about you guys go to the clinic and I'll meet you there later?" He said to Scott, "Not until I know why you're hanging around with hunters." Scott replied, "They're my cousins. I didn't know I had them until today, so can we talk about this later?" Scott registered Stiles' raised heartbeat, "Fine. But get there quickly. We have stuff to sort out." Stiles nodded, glad that he'd at least avoided one nightmare.
"Wait a second." Sam said loudly, "Tell us what you are first. Then we can talk about you leaving." Stiles sighed loudly, "I told you, they're not going to hurt you." Dean rolled his eyes, "We've heard that kind of crap before. We'll be the judge, thanks." Stiles felt like honest to god stomping his foot on the floor in a temper, "Fine." Scott said, surprising them all. "I'm a werewolf, Theo's a chimera." "And you're trying to tell me you're not dangerous?" Sam said, "No. I didn't say I'm not dangerous. I am. But not to humans." Scott said, his eyes flashing red. "You can control it?" Sam asked, curiosity now a bigger factor than fear. "Yeah, I struggle a bit more on full moons, but I've never killed a human, no one in my pack has." He said proudly, Dean didn't miss the way Stiles' looked to the ground, a frown on his face. "Why should we believe you?" Sam asked, "You don't have to, but right now, we've got bigger issues than you two." Scott replied turning toward the door, "We'll see you in a bit Stiles?" Stiles nodded and Scott and Theo disappeared out of the door.
"So," Stiles started uncomfortably, unsure where to start. "You guys are hunters then?" Dean rolled his eyes, "Obviously." "And your dad worked with the Argents?" "Once, a long time ago, and I don't think dad thought very highly of that Gerard guy." "Well, that's good, because he's evil." "On a scale of one to ten?" Dean asked, "An eleven, he threatened to kill his granddaughter unless he got bitten by the alpha. It's a long story but yeah, he's evil." "Sounds it. So what's this bigger thing you've got going on? The graveyard by any chance?" Dean said. Stiles looked at him in surprise, "Yeah, actually, yeah it is." The door swung open as Stilinski came back into the office. "I thought I saw Scott and Theo in here?" "They were, they left again. Okay dad, quick catch up, Sam and Dean are hunters like the Argents. We're going to go back to the house and go over my notes." Sam and Dean looked at him in surprise, they didn't remember agreeing to that, "And then we're going to go to the clinic, get Scott and go to the graveyard and end this thing. I've got a werewolf pack and two hunters, now is it okay to go?" Stilinski looked at them in shock as if trying to process all of the information, but it looked like he was struggling with the fact that they were hunters most of all. "Okay." He said eventually. "But Stiles, I mean it, if you come back injured in any way then I'm handcuffing you to my desk for the next two weeks." Sam and Dean grinned. Dean swung his arm around the kids shoulder, "Don't worry sir, we'll watch out for him."
Stiles seemed genuinely surprised that they were being nice to him, and Dean really didn't like the look in the kids eyes when he drifted off into his own thoughts. They had followed him to his home, Stiles spent the next ten minutes just talking about the impala and how much he wanted a car like that some day. It was obvious that they kid was nervous. "Why don't you show us your notes?" Sam said eventually. Stiles nodded seriously and led them upstairs to his room, Dean wasn't sure what he had expected, but it wasn't this. Stiles had a board set up with all the victims so far, details of where they were last seen, anything that they had in common, if the body had appeared and where. It was the most detailed report that Sam had ever seen and Dean could practically see Sam's eyes light up. "This is, Stiles, this is amazing." Sam said, almost lost for words. "Well, erm, I guess." Stiles said modestly. Sam was already studying the board and Stiles started explaining what he knew, "I know I'm missing something, if I just head out there again, I know I'll figure it out." "Why don't you?" Dean asked from where he was lounging on the bed, "I just, I guess," He squared his shoulders, "I am going back out there. Tonight." They spent a little while looking over the notes, Sam had pulled out John's journal and was comparing it with the copy of the Argent's that Stiles had. "Well, I've got to get to the clinic. Do you guys want to come?" Sam was so engrossed in the books that he barely even registered Stiles had spoken, Dean threw a pillow at him, "What?" "You want to come with us to the clinic or you staying here nerd?" Sam glanced back at the books, Dean sighed, "Whatever Einstein, you stay here, me and Stiles will head across to the clinic." "Okay, yeah, sure." Sam said, already turning back to the books. Stiles glanced at him with concern, "Don't worry about him, he's toilet trained." Stiles laughed and followed Dean out of the room.
"Scott, there's something I need to tell you." Theo glanced at Scott, he had to get this to work, he needed to separate Scott from Stiles, especially now there were two other hunters on the scene. "Alright what is it? About the graveyard?" Theo sighed heavily, "No, it's about Stiles and Donovan." He kept his heartbeat steady. "What about them?" Scott said already feeling worry rising, "I couldn't stop him, I only saw the last minute of it. By the time I got to him, it was already too late." "What do you mean?" Scott said now panic in his voice. "Look in the glovebox." Scott opened it slowly, surprised to find Stiles' spanner in there. "What is this? Theo just tell me what's going on." Theo sighed heavily, knowing that he had Scott hook, line and sinker. "Donovan attacked Stiles, I want to say it was self-defence, but Stiles got him on the floor and he started to hit him with the spanner, and he just kept hitting him." Theo put all of his acting ability into the display of information. "It just stopped being self-defence." He said finally, letting his words sink in. "No!" Scott said, wanting to not believe it, but some part of it making sense. He thought back to how Stiles had been over the past few weeks, how much he had wanted Donovan dead, how strange he had been acting. It must have been true.
By the time Stiles and Dean got to the clinic it was pouring down with rain. They'd gone in Stiles' jeep, Dean pointing out what work needed doing, "I can get you some good parts, we've got a friend who owns a scrap yard, we can have a weekend fixing it up if you fancy it?" Stiles grinned, "Yeah, that would be great, thanks man." Stiles said, genuinely unable to believe how nice Sam and Dean were been to him. He didn't deserve this. They wouldn't want to be related to him if they knew what he'd done. Scott was outside waiting for him and Stiles felt his stomach drop. He got out of the jeep and walked towards Scott, Dean stayed by the side of the jeep obviously sensing the tension. "You dropped this." Scott said holding out Stiles' spanner. Stiles took it and wanted to throw up, he couldn't believe this was happening, not now. "I can explain." "I don't want to hear it Stiles." "Please Scott, he was going to kill…" "It doesn't matter Stiles, you know we don't kill people." Stiles felt like his heart was been torn from his chest, he knew this is what Scott would say, "Please, just give me the chance to explain." "I don't want to hear it Stiles. You want to explain how you murdered someone, go tell your dad." Scott didn't even glance at Dean, "I want you to leave." Stiles was struggling to hold back tears, "Please Scott, just give me a chance." "I want you to leave Stiles. You are not part of this. Go to your dad." Stiles spun on his heel and headed back to the jeep. Dean watched as Scott turned back to the clinic, his head heavy. Dean sat in the passenger seat and looked across at Stiles who was obviously fighting back tears.
Stiles fought back the tears and tried not to punch his steering wheel, not with Dean sat in there with him. "You okay?" Dean asked, knowing that this wasn't what Stiles needed right now, but he had to ask anyway, Stiles took a deep breath and sat up straighter in his seat, determination on his face, "Fine. We need to go to the graveyard, we not to stop this thing before anybody else dies." Dean nodded solemnly, "Okay, well, you know, if you want to talk…" "I don't want to talk okay?" Stiles said, hating the fact that he was snapping at Dean who he'd only just met really. "Okay, well, just so you have my input, that guys a jerk." Stiles let out a humourless laugh, "He's not. He's right. I'm a murderer." Stiles said gripping the wheel tighter, fighting back the tears. "Stiles, I don't know much, but I know a murderer when I meet one. And you're not. It will have been self-defence, you don't have to tell me what happened, but I know it will have been self-defence." Stiles wanted to believe him, but Scott's words were echoing in his head, he didn't want Stiles around anymore, he thought Stiles was a murderer. He remembered back when he'd been drugged at Lydia's party, when an image of his dad had told him how his mother's death was his fault, the words still echoed in his mind, "It's you. It's all you. You know every day I saw her in that hospital slowly dying. I thought how the hell am I supposed to raise this stupid kid on my own? This hyperactive little bastard who keeps ruining my life. It's all you. It's you, Stiles. You killed your mother. You hear me. You killed her and now you're killing me." Stiles fought back a shiver from his wet clothes, this was all his fault, his mum had died because of him, he'd murdered Donovan. He had to make it better. He had to fix this somehow. He had to stop whatever this monster was, he had to try and save a life, he had to repay the debt. He had to do something to stop this pain.
They pulled up to the graveyard, the rain pouring down the windscreen, and Stiles felt such a sense of dread. He glanced to Dean, "You feel that?" Dean nodded, "This isn't an ordinary ghost anyway." "A ghost?" Stiles spluttered, "Yeah. What you thought werewolves and chimeras were the only supernatural things in the world?" Stiles looked at him in stunned silence, "No, but I guess, I didn't think they were real." Dean shrugged, "Well, they are. And bringing these emotions bubbling up is definitely not normal for ghosts." He paused for a moment and then started to get out of the jeep. "Where are you going?" Stiles called after him, hating that he was already drenched again, "I'm going to look for Casper." Dean could see Stiles shivering and threw him his jacket, "Don't lose it. It's dads." Stiles nodded. "So what's the plan?" Dean pulled out a shotgun, "We're going to get a look at this ghostie, which mean that we need to draw it out." "And how are we going to do that?" Stiles said, trying not to wallow in the despair that was filling up his brain. "I'm not really sure, I'm just winging it, but it's more likely to pop up and say hi if we're out here than sat in the jeep." Stiles grimaced, "Yeah, but it's not nearly as warm." He grumbled. Dean laughed as he led the way through the graveyard.
They must have only been out there maybe twenty minutes, but the rain was pounding down, they were struggling to stay upright as the ground slipped underneath them. "Okay, maybe this wasn't the best idea." Dean said, they were both soaked through, Stiles couldn't stop shivering despite the determination on his face. "Let's head back to the jeep until this storms lets up, then we can come up with a better plan." Stiles nodded firmly, still fighting back his emotions, knowing how much Scott hated him, well, it was breaking his heart. They were approaching the front of the jeep when Dean could have sworn he heard a noise behind him. He put his hand on Stiles' arm to stop him moving forward and turned to survey the graveyard. "Must have been nothing." Dean said doubtfully after a moment, he turned back towards the jeep and gasped, he reached out and pulled Stiles down with him as the car toppled over on top of them. Dean opened his eyes and looked Stiles over, "You okay?" They were lying on the ground, every inch of them dripping wet, the bonnet of the jeep was slammed into the ground where they had been standing a moment earlier, its wheels up in the air. They got unsteadily to their feet. "I guess we pissed it off." Stiles said. Dean grinned, "Yeah I guess so." He felt a presence near him, he knew it was close, he swung his shotgun around to face the ghost and was caught by complete surprise when it was a physical form in his way. Dean had a quick moment to register the hole that went straight through the kids chest before he was thrown backwards into a headstone. Stiles paled at the sight in front of him, Donovan was dead, Stiles had killed him, and yet here he was, that feral grin still on his face, his eyes filled with anger. "I'm going to kill you Stiles, and then I'm going to kill your dad."
Stiles couldn't breathe, his heart was hammering so fast in his chest he thought it was about to explode. He turned towards Dean who seemed to be coming around slowly, Stiles could see the blood running down the side of his face. He stumbled through the mud and grabbed hold of Dean, pulling him to his feet. "Come on Dean. Get up!" He pleaded, feeling Donovan right behind them. He dropped Dean ungracefully back to the ground and grabbed his shotgun, he swung around and Donovan was right there, he pulled the trigger but nothing happened. Both of them looked down at the gun, Stiles in confusion, Donovan in amusement. A moment later he was smacked backwards by Donovan, flying through the air. He landed hard, all breath leaving his body. He winced as he climbed to his feet, he had to get Dean and get out of here. As terrified as he was though, he couldn't help but feel relief, Donovan was alive, he hadn't killed him. He stumbled around the back of headstones, knowing that Donovan was just toying with him, but he kept going anyway, he had to get back to Dean. He saw Dean getting unsteadily to his feet, swaying on the spot, bending down to pick up his gun, Stiles wanted to warn him that the gun didn't work, but he didn't have the spare breath to shout. "Stiles! Get down!" Dean roared over the wind. Stiles slipped to the ground and a moment later there was a loud blast echoing over his head.
Dean was next to him in a moment, pulling him up out of the mud, "You okay?" he asked, "Fine." Stiles replied, although his whole body seemed to be screaming that he wasn't. "Come on, it was only salt pellets he won't be down for long." Dean warned, both of them weaving unsteadily back towards the entrance, suddenly Dean let out a surprised yelp as his legs were pulled from under him. Donovan was on top of Dean pinning him, repeatedly punching him. Dean was fighting back but it was obvious that he wasn't in the condition to fight. Stiles charged Donovan and threw all of his body weight into getting him off Dean. They tumbled sideways and Stiles landed underneath Donovan. Before he could take a breath the hits started to land, he felt bones breaking under the force of them, he was trying to hold up his hands to defend himself but he didn't have the energy, his arm was throbbing, his head, his chest, he couldn't breathe. He was sure he was going to die. He glanced over to Dean who had not yet regained consciousness, but Stiles was sure he was still breathing. "I'm going to enjoy eating you Stiles." Donovan grinned before landing one final punch at everything going dark.
Sam must have lost track of time, he glanced at his watch, he thought he would have heard from Dean by now. Wasn't he supposed to call him before they went out to the graveyard? He was sure that was what they agreed. He decided he'd just drive down to the animal clinic and go from there. Maybe Stiles and Dean had just got held up talking through the information with the rest of Scott's pack. He wasn't sure he could wrap his head around that, a good werewolf seemed quite a stretch, but then so was having an uncle and cousin that he knew nothing about. He closed the books he'd been reading and headed outside to the impala, putting his collar up against the wind and rain. He drove quickly to the clinic, he looked at the other cars sat there, but Stiles' jeep wasn't. His heart rate increased slightly, Dean's with him, he told himself. It would be fine. He knocked on the front door and waited, Scott opened the door a moment later, "What do you want?" He said, his face tight with anger, Sam glared back at him, "I'm looking for Stiles and Dean, I thought they were here?" "No." Theo said from the corner of the room, "They left ages ago. Stiles," He paused, glancing at Scott, "Well, Stiles wasn't welcome." Scott hung his head, "I didn't have a choice. You know I didn't." Theo nodded, "I know that. But you need to tell the others." Sam took a moment to look around the room, noticing for the first time the others in the room, another boy and two girls, "You couldn't find any werewolves not in puberty?" Sam joked, "I'm actually a were-coyote." One of the girls announced, "And Lydia's a banshee." She added, Sam's eyebrows raised in surprise, the red haired girl in the corner was glaring at Theo, "Thanks Malia, just share my secret with a hunter why don't you?" Sam could tell that she wasn't really pissed with Malia because she was glaring at Theo. "Why aren't you letting Stiles here? I want to know. He's your best friend Scott. He's saved your life. He's helped you so much. I don't get what's happened that you aren't even talking to him?" Scott looked defeated, like a piece of him was broken. Sam interrupted, "I don't really care why you're acting like a shithead, I'm looking for my brother and my cousin. Can you tell me where they are or not?" Scott looked on the verge of tears, but it was Theo who spoke up, "They'll probably be at the Sheriff's station. Telling his dad that he killed Donovan." There was a shock silence in the room as his words sunk in. "He must have had a good reason." Lydia said instantly jumping to Stiles' defense. "I thought so too." Scott said sadly, "But what Theo saw, it wasn't self-defense." He said quietly. Sam felt like shaking the guy, "And what did Stiles say? Did you look at the body? Did you check the facts?" Scott glared at Sam like he was the bad guy, "There was no body. And Stiles admitted it. He said he killed him."
Lydia suddenly doubled over in pain, her eyes glazing over as she screamed out in pain. It was so oud it made Sam's ears feel like they were about to explode, there was no doubt Lydia was a banshee. "Stiles." She said a moment later into the silence. "What?" Scott said jumping to his feet. "Stiles." Lydia clarified, "He's going to die."
Sam didn't need to ask how she knew that, the looks on the faces in the room made him believe her instantly. He turned on his heel and sped from the room, he knew where they would go and it wouldn't be the station, not if Stiles was anything like Dean. Scott caught up with him as soon as he was out of the door. "I'm coming with you." He said grabbing hold of Sam's arm, Sam glared at him, "Fine. But if anything has happened to either of them I'll kill you myself." He saw the two girls and the other werewolf getting into another car, surprised that Theo didn't seem to be coming with them. He floored the accelerator, leaving the others in his wake as he raced towards the graveyard, praying he wouldn't be too late.
Dean groaned as he regained consciousness, he was hanging in a cave, his feet barely scraping the floor, he groaned again, it felt like he had travelled back in time, he was sure it was only a few months ago that he had been tied up in another cave, waiting to get munched on by a wendigo. He glanced across the room, hating that it spent spikes of pain through his head and saw Stiles. The kid was a mess, there was blood pooling at his feet from several wounds, bruises across his face, Dean could hear the harsh rasp of his breathing from here, which meant broken ribs at least. "Stiles." He whispered, hoping that he would wake up. There was no movement, "Stiles." He said again, a little louder this time, "Kid, you with me?" "Urgh." Stiles eventually replied, Dean grinned, he was alive, it was a start, "That good huh?" Stiles tried to open his eyes, tried to focus on Dean, but his head was spinning, he thought he might throw up, then changed his mind, he couldn't be bothered to throw up, it would take too much effort. "Hey, Stiles, you've got to stay awake man." Stiles groaned, he was fairly sure he was still awake. "Talk to me, tell me what happened with you and Scott." Stiles just groaned again, he didn't feel like talking, he wanted to sleep. "You talk, I'll listen." He ground out, trying not to cry out, it felt like his jaw was broken. Dean paused for a moment, "Alright, yeah, sure, I can do that." He glanced around the room, looking for any way out of here, but there was a small part of him that knew they weren't getting out of here, and it scared him, and for once he thought he could actually be honest about it. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, "I'm scared. My dad's missing. Sam's girlfriend is dead. The same demon that killed our mum killed her. I've no idea where my dad is, you're hurt. I'm hurt. I don't know that we can make it out of this. And I feel like I've got the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I'm not strong enough to hold it, and I can't fail. I need to succeed, for Sam, but I know that I can't keep doing this. And I'm terrified because I'm looking at you right now, and I see the exact same feeling in your eyes. And you're too young to be dealing with this. To be feeling like this." Dean sighed heavily, hoping that Stiles was still hanging on. There was a minute of silence before Stiles finally cleared his throat and let out a grimace of pain.
"I murdered Donovan." His voice was hoarse and cracking but he kept going. "I was fixing my jeep and he attacked me, I managed to get away, get into the library, he was going to eat me. Well, only my legs, he was going to let me live until my dad got there. I was climbing the scaffolding, it was just one pin." Stiles couldn't help the tear spilling down his cheek, he hoped Dean couldn't see it. "I pulled the pin and all the scaffolding fell. When I looked down a piece had gone straight through him. I couldn't help him. I knew it was too late." Stiles couldn't stop the tears now, "I didn't know what to do, I panicked, and Scott hates me, I can't have my dad hate me too. I just, I can't." Dean wanted nothing more than to pull Stiles into a tight hug, "That's self-defense to me. And it would be self-defense to anyone who actually bothered to listen to your side of the story." Dean said, hoping that it would ease some of the guilt before they both died down here. Stiles let out a broken laugh, "The thing is, I didn't. He's still alive. I've had the weight in the pit of my stomach for the past month and I didn't kill him." Dean let out a weak grin but his thoughts were turning over and over, "Why didn't it kill him?" Stiles asked himself, "It should have killed him. I was so sure he was dead." "What kind of creature is he?" Dean asked, trying to put together any idea for how to escape. "He was a kid. Just a kid. These doctors took him, experimented on him, turned him into a chimera." "A what?" Dean asked, "Half human and half wendigo." Stiles replied, the pain in his head seeming to crank up even more. Dean groaned, "Wendigo's can only be killed by fire. Maybe you damaged him pretty well, but you couldn't have killed him unless you set him on fire." "Oh." Stiles said quietly, "Well, I guess he's still alive then." Dean nodded, "Yeah, now we have to get out of here and warn Sam." Stiles nodded, then regretted it, his head was spinning.
Scott was out of the car before Sam had completely stopped, racing towards the overturned jeep in front of them. "Stiles!" He screamed out, hoping for an answer. He peered in through the broken windows but there was no sign of him. His heart was hammering, where the hell was he? "Stiles?" He shouted out again, knowing that he was unlikely to be heard over the rain. Sam was behind him now, "Dean!" He called out, his wet hair plastered to his forehead. There was no answer. "We need to find them." Scott said desperately, running into the graveyard. Sam caught up with him, "Can you sniff them out or something?" He asked, constantly scanning the graveyard for any sign of movement. Scott sighed, "No, not in this weather." The others had caught up with them by now, Lydia was as white as a sheet and looked on the verge of tears. "We'll find him." Liam said rubbing her arm, she was shaking, although Sam wasn't sure if it was from fear or the cold. "Lydia, can you tell where they are?" He asked, not sure how this banshee thing worked. She shook her head, "No, I think they are close though." She said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. Sam thought for a moment, "Okay, you guys stay here, I'm going to go look for them. Stay by the cars." Scott shook his head, "No way, I'm not staying here. I'm coming with you. You guys stay here." He said to Liam, Malia and Lydia. "We'll bring them back."
Stiles pulled again on the ropes holding him up, he was fairly sure that this was hell, the pain he had felt earlier had built and built, every breath felt like his last, but he knew he couldn't die here. He had to warn Scott and the others what they were up against, even if they didn't want to speak to him, even if they all knew how worthless he was, he still had to try and protect them. "How are you doing over there?" Dean asked pulling against the ropes feeling them give just slightly, he had to keep working on them. "I'm fine." Stiles said putting as much energy as he could into trying to break free. "Alright, well just hold on okay Stiles, we're going to get out of this. Sam will come for us okay?" Stiles nodded, no energy left for words. He felt like he might actually be about to die and he couldn't help but watch as memories resurfaced, memories of all the times he'd failed to protect his family, his friends, the times he'd succeeded, the times he'd being hurt, the times he'd hurt others, his nightmares, he knew if he made it out of here he would have more. He couldn't think like that, he had to make it out of here. He had to protect them, even if they didn't want his protection. He pulled again on the ropes.
Sam and Scott walked through the graveyard calling out for Dean and Stiles, "You think they're hurt?" Sam rolled his eyes, "Of course they're hurt, I don't know about Stiles, but Dean is always getting into a mess." He scanned the ground hurrying forward when he saw Dean's gun by a headstone. He rushed forward and scooped it up, glancing around for any sign of his brother, "Dean! Stiles!" He called, he felt physically sick, something was seriously wrong, he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. "I can smell blood." Scott said, looking like he wanted to throw up almost as much as Sam did. "Can you follow it?" Sam asked, Scott turned around, towards the back end of the graveyard. A figure stepped out of the shadows and Scott took an automatic step forwards, "Stiles?" The figure came clearly into view, "Not quite but nice try." Donovan grinned, "That's not possible, you're dead." Scott said his voice trembling. "Not quite, although Stiles gave it his best shot." Donovan said pointing to the hole in his chest. Scott looked at him in confusion, "What are you on about?" Donovan flashed his teeth, taking a step towards them, "Didn't Stiles tell you? Didn't he tell you how he dropped a pile of scaffolding on me? How he impaled me?" He could see the look of complete surprise on Scott's face and he took another step closer. Scott wouldn't be a threat, it was the other one he should be cautious around, he could feel the power oozing from him. Donovan suddenly attacked, using Scott's shock as a distraction. He pounced on the older man, slamming him down into the ground with such force that Sam felt like he couldn't breathe. Scott grabbed him from behind and pulled him off Sam. Donovan whirled on him knocking him down, pinning him down and punching him over and over.
Stiles fell to the ground as soon as the rope snapped, he let out a cry of pain as the movement sent waves of agony through his body, "Stiles? You okay?" Dean asked, still pulling uselessly on his ropes. Stiles glanced at him, trying to focus, he forced himself to get to his feet, trying not to just sit there and cry. He had to keep going for Dean, for Sam, for Scott, he had to keep going. He stumbled over to the side of the cave and managed to get Dean's rope undone. Dean collapsed just as ungracefully as Stiles, he was sure his ankle was broken at the least. He tried to get his feet under him but couldn't stand, "Stiles, I'm going to need your help getting out of here." He looked across at Stiles, he was white as a sheet, covered in blood and bruises, Dean was sure he probably looked just as bad, "Okay." Stiles said, pulling out all his reserves of energy. He had to do this. He couldn't fail on this. He pulled Dean to his feet, taking some of his weight as they staggered out of the cave, trying his hardest to keep on his feet. He had to keep going. He just kept telling himself to be strong, he had to keep going for Scott. They stumbled out into the rain, the wind nearly knocking them off their feet. "You hear that?" Dean asked after a moment, Stiles looked at him blankly, he had no energy left, he just wanted to sleep, just for a little while. Dean was looking across the graveyard, Stiles forced his eyes to follow, there was somebody there, somebody shouting, fighting. They took another step closer, Stiles practically dragging Dean now, every step getting harder and harder. As they got closer it became obvious what was happening, Sam and Scott were fighting with Donovan, and Donovan was winning.
Scott landed hard on the ground again, every time he thought that he had put Donovan down he had got back up, both of them felt unsteady on their feet, their various injuries already throbbing, although Scott knew that his would heal. He found that he didn't have the energy to get to his feet anymore, he just felt so drained. Donovan was punching him repeatedly in the face and he couldn't seem to even find the will to raise his arms to protect himself. This was his fault, Stiles was probably dead and it was his fault, he'd pushed him away, and he'd died thinking that Scott hated him. Theo had lied to him, he could see it now, Scott couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. He deserved this, he deserved to die.
As soon as Stiles saw Scott on the ground, not even fighting back anymore, he rushed forward, dropping Dean as he went, stumbling and slipping in the mud, knowing he wasn't going to be quick enough. He launched himself at Donovan, letting out a roar of pain as he connected with him, knocking him away from Scott. He knew he was done now, he had nothing left, he just hoped it had been enough to save Scott, to not let him down one last time. They went down hard in a tangle of limbs and Donovan kicked out landing a solid blow to Stiles' stomach. He lost the ability to breathe, he knew this was it now.
Dean saw Sam starting to get to his feet and screamed as loud as he could, he felt so helpless, he was crawling as fast as he could, but he couldn't get there, he knew he wouldn't get there in time. "Wendigo!" He screamed hoping that Sam understood. Donovan was back on his feet now, Stiles was motionless on the floor, Scott moving towards him. Sam suddenly turned and ran, confusing Donovan, he seemed to pause for a moment before deciding that it would be more fun to taunt Scott. He crouched down next to Stiles, Dean had managed to make it to the small clearing now, his leg was throbbing, his head spinning, but he had to know, he had to know Stiles was okay. Donovan slapped the side of Stiles' face lightly but there was no reaction. "Too bad." He reached down and seemed to feel for a pulse, "That's definitely too bad, I was hoping to have more fun with him before he died." Dean felt the breath leave his body, "No!" Scott screamed out, sounding like his heart was breaking. "No!" Dean found himself whispering, he couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. Donovan was laughing at their pain, but Scott's pain was quickly turning to rage. He launched himself at Donovan, determined to keep him away from Stiles. He fought with everything he had, losing control of his wolf as he turned and fought with Donovan. Dean crawled to Stiles, grabbing hold of him as soon as he could, already checking for a pulse.
Sam grabbed the flares from the boot and tore back into the graveyard, not caring that the others were racing after him. Dean was cradling Stiles motionless body, Scott was roaring with such pain in his voice that Sam couldn't dare to think what it meant. He pulled the cover off the flare and slammed it into the hole in Donovan's body, pulling Scott away at the same time. Donovan lit up the graveyard as he burned, his scream echoing through the air. Scott pulled away from Sam, going back to Stiles, Lydia was already kneeling on the ground next to him, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Wake up Stiles." She was begging. Scott concentrated on the broken body in front of him, the paleness of his skin where it wasn't black and blue, the body of his brother, his best friend, and he'd failed him. "I can hear his heart beating." Liam said quickly kneeling down next to Stiles, "We need to get him to the hospital." There was a collective sigh of relief, he was still alive for the time being. Liam and Scott picked him up gently, terrified of causing any further damage, Sam grabbed hold of Dean who was glaring at Donovan's body with hatred in his eyes. "Come on." Sam urged dragging him to the car. Sam loaded Dean into the front seat, Scott and Liam slid Stiles into the back seat, Sam jumped into the driving seat, glancing worriedly at his brother who had yet to say a word. Scott scooted into the back seat and then they were racing towards the hospital. Scott pulled out his phone and called ahead to his mum, "Mum, it is Stiles." He said, his voice breaking, "He's hurt. We're coming to you." "How badly?" They heard her voice echoing through the car, "It's bad mum." She sounded like she was close to tears, "Okay, well, you get here okay? I'll be waiting right here." Scott nodded, not seeming to realize that she couldn't see him. "Scott?" "Yeah mum, we'll be with you soon." He hung up the phone, glancing down again at Stiles, "Just hold on Stiles. Please, just hold on."
Dean hadn't spoken a word to them yet and Sam was worried, it wasn't like his brother to be so quiet. He couldn't take his eyes off the road though, the weather was still bad, the roads wet and Sam was scared that if he even glanced at his brother he'd drive them off the road and Stiles would die. "You doing okay Dean?" "Fine." He said through gritted teeth, he didn't sound like he was in pain, more like he was angry beyond belief. Sam raced into the car park as fast as he could, surprised to see that there was already a cluster of doctors outside the door waiting with a stretcher. He pulled up right next to them and then there was a rush of action as they unloaded Stiles from the car. Sam let out a sigh, he'd got them here, now it was up to the doctors to save Stiles. "Stiles!" Sam heard someone screaming, he turned and saw the Sheriff racing towards them. "Stiles!" He said getting closer, a doctor stopped him from getting any closer. It was obvious the second that he actually saw Stiles, all fight left him, his legs didn't seem to want to hold him up; his son looked dead. "No!" He howled, tears spilling down his face. They rushed Stiles into the hospital, chattering among themselves, his vital signs, his obvious injuries, the injuries they had to deal with first if they wanted to keep him alive. Sam helped Dean out of the car and they hobbled towards the front desk, Dean leaving a trail of blood behind him, his ankle was broken, his head was pounding, he definitely had a concussion, but he was conscious, which was more than Stiles. And this kid, the one that was looking so shell shocked stood next to Stilinski, this kid that claimed to be his best friend, he hadn't even given Stiles a chance to explain, he'd called him a murderer, and if Stiles died now, if he didn't pull through, Dean knew that what Scott thought was more important than anything he could say, which meant that Stiles would die thinking that Scott thought he was a murderer. He was beyond pissed at the kid. He couldn't lose Stiles, not when they'd just found him, and he deserved so much better than Scott.
Dean got seen to pretty quickly, the doctors had plastered up his broken ankle, told him to rest, take it easy. He had a couple of fractured ribs but nothing too serious, he just had to take it easy for a few weeks. Dean had listened to the advice and then hobbled out of his room to sit in the waiting room with the others. He had to be there when the doctors came back, he had to know that Stiles was still alive. He'd let Stiles down, he was supposed to protect him like he protected Sam. He was a failure and Stiles had got hurt because of him. He felt on edge, unable to sit still despite all the aches in his body. If Stiles died, it was on him. Even if he didn't, it was still Dean's fault. He could be as pissed as he liked at Scott but in the end this was all on him. "Mum." Scott said suddenly rising from his seat as one of the nurses approached them. "What's going on Melissa? Is he okay? Is my son okay?" Stilinski asked, his voice breaking. "He's out of surgery." She replied, taking in Dean's battered appearance. "He's still in critical condition, but he made it through the surgery. He's a fighter." They sank back into their seats in relief, he was still alive. Stiles would make it through this, he had to. "What happened?" The Sheriff said finally looking to Scott and then Sam and Dean, "I don't know. We argued. I wasn't there." Scott said, looking to the floor, his eyes filled with guilt. "What? What the hell could you argue about that you wouldn't go out there with him?" "I thought he was coming to see you, I didn't think he'd go out there by himself." The Sheriff sighed heavily, "You know this is Stiles we are on about here?" "Yeah." Scott replied, "I should have known. I should have stopped him. I shouldn't have argued with him." Dean couldn't hold his tongue any more. "It wasn't really an argument though was it, you'd already made up your mind, you didn't even let him talk." Scott looked at him, seeing the anger in Dean's eyes, he looked down at the floor again, "I know that. I won't ever forgive myself for that." "Would somebody please explain to me what the hell happened and why the hell my son nearly died?" The Sheriff said pacing across the hall in his agitation.
"Theo told me that Stiles killed Donovan, that he bashed his head in. I believed him, I shouldn't have, I shouldn't have doubted Stiles, but it made sense, and why would Theo lie to me?" Scott said eventually. The Sheriff looked at him like he'd lost his mind, "My son is not a murderer." He said angrily, keeping his voice low to ensure that nobody overheard them. "I know he's not. Donovan was the one attacking people. He was at the graveyard. He attacked Stiles and Dean." The Sheriff glanced at Dean now as if expecting him to pick up the story. Dean rubbed his eyes, god his head hurt, maybe going to sleep wouldn't have been such a bad idea. "He attacked us, I should have talked him out of going, but I thought it was just a ghost, I thought it would be an easy job, and he was so insistent that we go, so desperate to stop anyone else getting hurt." Dean felt his throat closing up, he was trying so hard to hold back the tears, "I'm so sorry, I failed him. I couldn't protect him from Donovan." The tears were spilling down his cheeks now, unable to stop them, Sam put an arm around his shoulders, offering whatever comfort he could to his brother. "It's not your fault." He said, but he knew Dean would blame himself anyway. "I'm sorry." Dean muttered again, but this time it was the Sheriff that bent down in front of Dean, "Listen to Sam, this isn't your fault. Stiles seems to be a beacon for supernatural crap. I should have been there to protect him." "So should I." Scott added. "I should have listened to him, let him tell me what happened." Dean swiped the tears from his face, "He told me. He can tell you himself when he wakes up, if he wants to, but it was self-defense, there was no doubt in my mind it was self-defense. And in the end, he didn't kill him anyway. Sam finished the job." Dean said proudly. "So Donovan's dead?" The Sheriff asked. "Without a doubt. If you want to arrest me for murder then that's fine. But I had to kill him, if I didn't, we would all be dead right now." The Sheriff nodded in agreement, "I've no intention of arresting my nephew."
Melissa reappeared a little while later, "We've got him settled in a room, he's still out of it, but you can go see him." She said to them quietly. Sam, Dean, Scott and Stilinski followed her down the hallway and to Stiles, he lay motionless in the bed, hooked up to too many machines, he looked worse than he did when he arrived, but Dean felt relief listening to the steady beat of his heart. They sat down in silence next to the bed, Dean wasn't sure how long they sat there, it must have been hours, suddenly there was a groan from the bed, Stiles was waking up. "Urgh." He groaned, struggling to open his eyes as the pain started to overwhelm him, he looked around the room, at the four worried faces looking at him, "Stiles? Can you hear me?" His dad asked, "Dad." Stiles mumbled, trying not to wince when his dad gripped tight onto his hand, looking dangerously close to tears, "You're okay Stiles. You're going to be fine." He said unable to stop the relief that was washing over him.
It was several days later when Stiles was well enough to leave the hospital, he arrived home to find his jeep sat on the drive next to the impala. His dad came around to help him out of the car and he smiled gratefully at the assistance, he was still very sore, still recovering from the four broken ribs, the broken arm, the fractured jaw and skull as well as all the other little cuts and bruises, but he was going to live and that was what mattered. Scott appeared just as they were heading towards the door, "Hey man, how are you feeling?" They were doing okay, things still weren't quite right between them, but they were definitely on the mend. "I'm good." Stiles said as they made their way slowly into the house. Sam and Dean were sat around the table which was filled with boxes, "What's all this?" Stiles said as he came in, catching his father grinning out of the corner of his eye. "Well, it's for when you're feeling up to it." Sam said, Stiles looked to them in confusion, "We did say we were going to sort your jeep out didn't we? And we're going to stick around for a little while, just until we get this dread doctor crap sorted out. I figured when you're better we can fix it up together." Dean said smiling. Stiles looked at them all in shock, "Are you serious?" He said happily, "Of course we are. That is, if you want us to stick around?" "Of course I do." He said grinning.