This is crossposted to AO3 (same title), but the chapters are divided differently... over there I give shorter update more frequently, here there are longer updates, less frequently.
Pairings: Derek/Stiles, with a side of Peter/Lydia. There is also a heavy emphasis on the friendship between Lydia and Stiles.
Anyway, here you go. Enjoy :)
EDIT: So I realized after posting this that my scene breaks don't appear. Forgive me, I haven't used this site in quite a while... I forgot that this was one of the reasons I stopped posting here. I've corrected the scene breaks, so hopefully they're all there, and sorry if you had to read this before it got fixed.
It was well past midnight when Lydia and Stiles finally found the section of forest the witches had claimed. It probably would have been much quicker with one of the wolves (once they got close, even Stiles could smell that the area had been shrouded in wolfsbane, mountain ash, and a dozen other magical herbs), but they made do on their own while the others handled their own problems.
A campsite had been arranged around an area of a dozen or so trees. It looked like they had tried to clean the place up, but were forced to flee before they could make all evidence vanish.
"I don't think we should go in there, Stiles," Lydia said. "We should wait for the others."
"We'll be fine. Derek and Scott lured two of the witches into a trap in the clinic."
"And the other three?"
"Isaac and the Argents are tracking them through the woods on the other side of town. We'll be fine."
"That's what they always say. Right before being brutally murdered."
"This isn't a horror movie, we're not going to be brutally murdered," Stiles said. Lydia raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so maybe our life is pretty horrific at times. But according to my dad, the seven people that have disappeared haven't exactly been model citizens. They all have arrest records for some pretty bad stuff. Murder, child abuse, rape. But none were ever convicted. So it looks to me like this little coven is after bad people who got away with their crimes. Last I checked, we are good people. We've made a few questionable life choices, but we haven't murdered anybody."
"I hope you're right."
Stiles looked somewhat insulted by the insinuation that he might be wrong, but returned to his investigation of the witches' belongings.
"I wonder what this is," he said, holding up an object that he could think only to compare to a fishing reel with a short wooden spear. Medieval torture device, maybe?
"Stiles," Lydia said. "We're sure there's only five witches, right?"
"Yeah. Deaton seemed pretty sure, anyway."
"And they're all somewhere on the other side of town, miles from here."
"Yeah?"
"Then what do you think that is?"
Stiles turned around just as the creature lunged at them.
"Ow," Stiles groaned, as the monster tied his arms around the tree behind him. It appeared to be human-like: two arms, two legs, a head of dark brown hair. It was even dressed like a human. But it's face was covered in fleshy scales. "Hey, you know, I don't know if these are tight enough. I can still feel my thumbs."
"Stiles," Lydia hissed. Do not taunt our captor, went unsaid.
"So, are you another witch or..." Stiles asked, paying no attention to Lydia's misgivings. "Cause the others looked, you know, human. And no offense, but you're fugly."
"Stiles!"
"I apologize for my appearance," the creature said. Its whole body shook for a moment, then the scales disappeared, and she looked like a normal human person, pretty even. "Better?"
"Much."
"What are you?" Lydia asked. "A witch?"
"No. It is true I have allied myself with this particular coven, but I am not one of them. We merely have similar goals, and thought it best to work together to achieve them, for the time being."
"Goals of killing people?" Stiles asked.
"They're not dead. And they deserve what they got."
"Who gave you the right to decide their fate?" Lydia asked.
"Your justice system has failed to punish them accordingly. Sometimes we must take matters into our own hands. We do this for the victims."
Stiles didn't like the insinuation that his father is a failure at his job. In all the cases in question, his dad had been pretty vocal about his opinion that they should all be getting life imprisonment. He knew they were guilty, but the evidence just wasn't there. It wasn't his fault.
"No, perhaps it's not his fault. It's no ones fault. But does that mean they should go unpunished for their crimes?"
"How did you do that?" Stiles asked. The idea that this woman, or whatever she was, could dig around in his thoughts made him very uncomfortable. "What are you?"
"You could say I'm a genie. I am not, but for the sake of easing your confusion, let's say that I am."
"So what does that mean? You grant wishes?" Lydia asked with a hint of skepticism.
"In a manner of speaking."
"Well then, I wish for a pony."
The genie roared, the scales returning for just a moment before she recomposed herself. "Do not mock my power. What I can do goes far beyond conjuring object. I bend reality. I could give you the world, if you wished it."
"Don't make any wishes, Lydia," Stiles warned. "It's dangerous. Deaton has mentioned genie's in our lessons. They twist everything. They give you exactly what you wish for, but it's all wrong. You wish for a pony, and you get a pony that kills everyone you care about, then eats your intestines."
The genie let out a laugh. "Ever the active imagination you have. And you're right, sometimes we have a dark sense of humor. But you're wrong on one count. You don't have to make the wish. I can feel it wrapping itself around your mind, and that's enough." She ran a sharp nail along Lydia's jaw. "You are so obvious," she said. "Wishing me dead. And beneath that there is almost no desire. Nothing fun. But you," she rounded on Stiles, her eyes flashing vibrant green. "You are so filled with darkness. And one desire keeps coming out. I can give you exactly what you want, what you need."
"Please don't," Stiles said, shaking his head.
The last thing he heard her say before everything went black was "I can give you your mother."
By the time he regained consciousness, the sun was already coming up. He was grateful to find that he was no longer tied to a tree, but he was still in the middle of the forest.
"Shit. Lydia, wake up. Lydia!"
"Whaa?"
"Wake up! We're going to be late to school. Get up."
She sat up blinking in confusion. Stiles reached over to pull a few leaves from her hair. "What happened?" she asked.
"I don't know. The genie is gone. And so is the witches' camp. They must have come in and cleared everything while we were unconscious."
"Why would they just leave us here?" she asked. "Why not take us prisoner?"
Stiles shrugged. "I don't know, but we don't have time to worry about it right now. Do you remember which way we parked?"
She stood up and looked around, trying to remember the way the forest had looked in the dark. "This way."
But when they got to the road, the jeep was nowhere to be seen.
"I swear it was right here," Lydia said. "It was."
"I know. Mile marker 41. Maybe one of the deputies saw it parked and my dad ha it brought back to the house?"
"Or maybe the witches took it."
"Why would the witches take my car? Don't they have flying brooms or something?"
"I doubt they wanted it for themselves. They probably just wanted to make more trouble for us."
"Those damned witches better not have taken my baby."
"Stiles. Have you ever considered that you have an unhealthy relationship with your car?"
Stiles grumbled and the pair began walking down the road back into town. It was a twenty minute walk to Lydia's house, and even further to Stiles'.
"Give me ten minutes to change and I'll drive your to your place," Lydia offered as she unlocked her front door.
"Thanks," he said, nodding. He threw himself into the couch, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. His stomach grumbled. Maybe breakfast was more important that sleep.
"Good morning, Stiles," Lydia's mom said when she came down the stairs. "What are you doing here?"
"Lydia is giving me a ride to school."
"Doesn't she usually pick you up from your place?"
"It's been a strange morning, Mrs. Martin."
"It always is with you, isn't it," she said, giving him an odd look. "Well, I have to get to work. Help yourself to the leftovers in the fridge."
Stiles waited until he could hear her car starting before launching himself off the couch and into the kitchen.
"Harris is going to kill us," Stiles said, glancing at his watch. They had five minutes to get to class and they hadn't even reached the Stilinski house yet. "I already have two weeks of detention lined up after last weeks fiasco. I'm going to be serving detention when I'm forty."
"I'm sure you'll talk your way out of it somehow," she said. "Look, no jeep," she added as the pulled up to his house. Stiles groaned. The driveway was empty. At least he wouldn't have to explain to his dad where he had been all night. Even knowing the truth about things that go bump in the night, he didn't like Stiles staying out late, especially on school nights. "Don't worry. I'll drive you today, and once school is out, you can have your dad put out a BOLO. I doubt they sent your car to a chop shop or anything. It's kind of a piece of shit."
Stiles whimpered.
"Go!" she exclaimed.
Stiles hopped out of the car and ran up to the house.
"Don't forget deodorant!" Lydia shouted.
Twenty two minutes later they were walking into chemistry with pink slips. Harris took the slips without so much as a nod of acknowledgement, and, in hindsight, that wasn't even the first sign that something was wrong.
Stiles met up with Scott just before third period econ. "Hey man," he said. "How'd it go with the witches last night?"
Scott looked at him strangely. "What?"
"The witches. I'm guessing they got away, 'cause they had cleared out their campsite by this morning."
"Are you talking about Legend of Heroes? Dude, you know my mom won't let me play until I get my grades up."
"Legend of - what?"
The warning bell rang and they walked into the classroom, taking their seats near the front of the room.
"Have you seen Allison?" Stiles asked. "She wasn't in first period."
"Who?"
"Allison. You know, the embodiment of physical perfection, probably descendent of Aphrodite herself."
"Are you feeling okay? You're acting really weird."
"I'm acting weird?" he said, but his words were drowned out by the bell ringing. Lydia slid into the seat behind Stiles as Scott turned his attention to the front of the room. Stiles, however, let his eyes wander around the room, not sure what he was looking for until he found it.
Isaac was sitting in the back corner of the room, slouched in his chair with his head down, avoiding making eye contact with anyone.
"Alright you little heathens," Coach said. "Stop your incessant chattering and let's get started."
"Something isn't right here," Stiles whispered to Lydia.
Lydia's eyes widened. "You can say that again." She nodded, directing his attention back to the front. When he turned, he saw none other than-
"Jackson," Coach said. "Thank you for gracing us with your presence. Take a seat."
Stiles' jaw dropped as he watched Jackson sit down on the opposite side of the room. He turned back to Lydia. "Did you know he was back?"
Eyes still wide, Lydia shook her head. "I haven't heard from him in months."
Still in shock, neither of them quite heard anything Coach said for the rest of class.
"Everything about this day doesn't make sense," Stiles said as he stuffed his face full of french fries at lunch. He and Lydia had grabbed one of the picnic tables outside, and Stiles couldn't help but watch as weird groups sat together. "First Scott was acting weird, and now Jackson is back. And where the hell is Allison? Lydia, are you even listening to me?"
"What? No. Yes, everything is strange."
"What is happening on your phone that is more important than the weirdness of today?"
She frowned. "It's nothing. Just an appointment in my calendar that I don't remember making." She shook her head and set her phone down. "Do you think the witches might have done something more than we realized?"
"I don't know. I don't see how dragging Jackson across an ocean would benefit them, but messing with all our memories certainly would."
"Hey, Scott, wait up!" Stiles shouted after his friend.
"I'm gonna be late for lacrosse," Scott said, not slowing down. Stiles sped up to catch him. "Coach is already on my ass about grades, I don't need him bitching about practice too."
"Actually, I wanted to say something about that-"
"I'm not going to try and talk you back onto the team again, Stiles," he said.
"No, it's - what?"
"No offense dude, but you suck at lacrosse. You just get in the way, and then you complain about how much you hate it anyway."
Stiles stopped walked, shocked by his words.
"We'll talk later man," Scott shouted over his shoulder as he walked into the locker room.
Still shocked and confused, Stiles walked back down the hall, meeting up with Lydia near her locker.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Apparently I'm not on the lacrosse team. Which, okay, I don't actually care that much about that, but... Scott was kind of a dick about it."
"I talked to Jackson," Lydia said, unable to keep it to herself without exploding. "Apparently I broke up with him almost two years ago. We don't talk anymore. And he was never in Europe."
"What the hell is going on here?"
"Hey guys," Cora said, walking up behind them.
"Cora. Hi," Stiles said. "I thought you were in South America?"
"Yeah, I thought so too. Tracy already brought Jess and Tyler, but we had to postpone my flight. I'll be leaving this weekend."
"Oh," Stiles said. He was nodding, though she may as well have been speaking Greek because he had no idea what she was talking about. Actually, he might have understood better if she had been speaking Greek.
"Anyway, mom just wanted me to check in with you guys and make sure you're both still on for dinner tonight."
"Um, yeah?" Stiles said, feeling, if possible, more confused.
"Of course we are," Lydia said, maintaining her cool much more effectively.
"Great. See you later then." She smiled at them and walked away.
"Lydia," he said when he was relatively sure Cora was out of hearing range. "What. The. Hell."
"That mystery appointment suddenly makes more sense," she said, holding her phone out so he could see. In the 7 o'clock block, there was a blue bubble that read "Dinner w/ Hales".
"No, Lydia, it doesn't make sense. I am still very confused."
"Come on, I'll show you."
Stiles followed her out to the lacrosse field, where the team was just lining up. "Remember the genie said she could bend reality?"
"Yeah? What does this have to do with lacrosse, or any of the general weirdness of today?"
"Watch," she pointed out at the field. "Specifically, watch Scott, Jackson, and Isaac."
Jackson was, as always, an exceptionally good player. That was nothing new. Even slightly off his game, he was better than everyone else on the field.
The strangeness was with Scott and Isaac. They weren't particularly bad, but they weren't exceptionally good either. There was nothing even remotely supernatural about their abilities.
Lydia drove Stiles home that afternoon, and he was uncharacteristically quiet for the majority of the ride.
"Stiles, I really need you to say something, because I'm freaking out over here and you're silence isn't helping."
"They were never bitten," Stiles said, because it was the only thing he could think about. "They're just normal human people. Not werewolves."
"If the Hales are alive, then there would have been no reason to turn them."
"But how are the Hales alive? How is that possible?"
"Genie."
"Okay, say the genie is behind this, because that's the only thing that makes sense. Why would she bring the Hales back? Why?"
"I don't know Stiles! I don't know. None of this makes any sense."
Stiles took a deep breath. "So if the Hales really are alive... that means Peter didn't go crazy and start killing people, didn't turn Scott. And Derek never became Alpha, which means he never turn Jackson, Isaac, Erica, or Boyd. Jackson never had to leave, and... and Erica and Boyd might still be alive."
"Are alive," Lydia confirmed. "I have class with Erica."
"And if there wasn't a rash of suspicious animal attacks... that means-"
"No Allison," Lydia finished.
"What are we going to do about this?"
"I'm not even sure if there is anything we can do. Don't look at me like that, we're still gonna try. But right now I think we should try to focus on one thing at a time. Apparently we're having dinner with the Hales. And apparently your dad found your car."
Stiles looked up. Sure enough, the jeep was now in the driveway. He breathed a sigh of relief. "At least something about today is going right."
Lydia pulled into the driveway and Stiles got out of the car. "I'll call you if I figure anything out," he said.
She nodded. "See you tonight."
Stiles ran up to the front door, greatly looking forward to embracing the normalcy of his own home for a few hours, but the instant his hand was on the doorknob, he knew that something was wrong.
"Dad?" he called when he opened the door. "Are you home?"
"Stiles?" a voice called back.
He dropped his bag in shock. It was a voice that was distinctly not his fathers.
"Hey honey," his mom said, poking her head out of the kitchen.
"Mom."
"Your dad's still at the station. Did you need something?"
"Um. No. It's no big deal."
"Are you okay, honey?"
Stiles nodded, but he was sure he looked far from okay. "I just wasn't expecting you."
"I know, I realized I had something to pick up for my meeting. Which reminds me: I know I said you could borrow the jeep tonight, but something came up. I have to drive over to Beacon Heights tonight. Will you be okay without it?"
He nodded, not actually sure what he was agreeing to.
"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, feeling his forehead with the back of her hand.
"I'm fine. It's just been a weird day."
"You have a lot of those, don't you?" she asked with a smile.
Stiles nodded again, her words barely registering in his mind. She gave him a strange look mixed with a smile as she walked back into the kitchen. He considered following her, saying all the things he wanted to say, but he had no idea where he would begin. How could he say all the things he was thinking without telling her that, where he was from, she was... dead?
So instead he walked toward the stairs, taking note of all the things he hadn't had time to notice that morning. The wall along the stairs was lined with photos, much like it was in his home, but these pictures featured a lot more recent ones of him and his mom. There were several from birthday parties from his childhood, and he immediately recognized the red-headed girl in most of them as Lydia. There were even some recent ones of him and Lydia and a few with Danny or Cora or Heather. Scott was there too, but he wasn't in as many as Stiles felt like he should have been.
He spent half an hour staring at the pictures, trying to wrap his head around the fact that, in this alternate universe or whatever, his mom was alive and well and downstairs.
"Stiles?" Her voice broke him out of his thoughts. "I'm heading out now. You're dad's working a double, so he won't be in until morning, and I'll be gone until tomorrow afternoon. Do you need anything before I go?"
"No. I'll be fine."
"I left some money on the counter for pizza, if you need it."
"Thanks, mom. Have a good trip."
He wasn't sure how long it was after she left that his brain finally caught up with his surroundings. He dashed up the stairs and all but trashed his room in a wild search for answers.
What he found was more questions.
"Hey, Lydia," he said when she answered her phone. "It looks like I'm going to need a ride tonight after all. My mom needed the jeep."
"Stiles, you're mom is..."
"Yeah, apparently not. And that's not even the strangest thing," he said. He looked at the photo booth pictures in his hand, biting his lip. "I think I'm dating Derek Hale."