Title: Amber Eyes
Author: WildRosa13474
Summary: Part 1 of the Identity Crisis series. AU. Stiles had it all planned out. His reincarnation was not in that plan.
A/N I'm planning on making this a series of unconnected stories, but don't be surprised if I can't even finish this one. I'ma shove the blame onto 'too busy working on my original book', but it's really just that I seem to be unable to finish anything. Also, for some reason I feel the need for this story to be in present tense. No idea why. Be prepared for weirdness.
Stiles decides he's done with this shit the moment he wakes up.
He vaguely registers lying on his back, feeling like he's just been dunked into a freezing pond- while dosed on pain meds and paralyzed from the waist down. Yeah, those were certainly not Stiles' fondest memories. But on the subject of memories..
He's not supposed to be able to wake up, goddammit. Stiles was supposed to take one for the team, by offering his life force to destroy the Nemeton once and for all, at the crucial moment.
Had their plan failed?
But Stiles doesn't feel like his life force is even the slightest bit weakened. In fact, he feels completely revitalized, if a bit sluggish and weak.
And yes, he realizes those things do not work together, but his mind can't come up with a better description, not right now.
Suddenly, he sees a big silhouette looming over him. Stiles' mind is immediately running a marathon. A giant? He's never seen one of those before. Maybe a giant creature, or a size-changing Chimera?
His first instinct is to recoil- get back, gather information and figure out a plan- but to his surprise and frustration Stiles finds that he can't move. Or rather, he can, but it takes tremendous effort to even attempt to roll over.
Stiles feels like screaming at his body to move already. Now is not the time to be useless! If he doesn't do something soon, the giant whatever-it-was would-!
Stiles is almost panicking, immense frustration building, mixing into the whirlwind of emotions already there. He's confused and scared and just wants the idiots he calls friends to come save him already, they have to, they always do!
High wails penetrate the air, shocking Stiles out of his thoughts. He realizes his mouth is open and there's wetness streaming down his cheeks, and abruptly cuts off his crying.
What the hell? Since when do emotions get to him so easily? He's the boy who runs with wolves. He's been through hell. This shouldn't affect him as much as it does.
Stop. Take a deep breath. Analyze the situation.
Stiles forces himself to calm down and takes in his surroundings.
The figure he at first thought was a monster looks like a normal human being, exept maybe five times bigger. For some reason, Stiles' vision is blurry- maybe he got hit on the head and that's why he can't remember what exactly happened- so he can't make out specific features, but the giant seems to be a normal human, wearing white clothes.
When Stiles moves his eyes towards the side, he has to blink multiple times. Everything is white. Where exactly are they?
Stiles' vision slowly clears up, and as the giant, who looks suspiciously like a doctor, cleans the blood off of him- blood? since when was there blood?- he hears him gasp.
The doctor mutters to himself, and Stiles is relieved to find the guy speaks English, although he can only catch a few words. Something about 'blood' and 'wrong'.
Well, that's a bit worrying. The blood's kinda obvious, he's covered in it, but if the doctor says something is wrong that's usually a reason to worry.
Judging by all the white, the doctor and the blood, he's in a hospital somewhere. That's good. It means there's a big chance his friends carried him here, and are sitting in the waiting room bored out of their minds.
A giant hospital. Probably one of Deaton's contacts, that man has more friends then Derek has anger issues, Stiles swears to god.
Stiles relaxes a little bit in relief. He's alright, kinda, and he hoped to God his friends are too. He doesn't think he could bear losing someone else.
With the relief, a wave of exhaustion comes over him, the adrenaline wearing off. Even though he knows his body desperately needs it, Stiles fights against sleep for a few more moments, glancing down at his body to assess the damage, and something clicked.
No.No no no no no this can't be happening.
Stiles doesn't make a sound as he stares at his unscarred, infant body. It makes sense now, everything from the doctor being a 'giant' to the extreme emotions to the high pitched wail, but his brain refuses to accept it.
I haven't just been de-aged, have I? I've been born again. That's why there was so much blood.
Stiles is alone. His pack will never hug him again. His father will never drag him away from his laptop again. Derek will never scowl at him again, Scott will never give his a puppy grin again.
Even as he feels horror and loneliness set in- he'll never see his dad or his pack, ever again- he feels a certain, distant sense of relief too. At least it's just him this time. The plan didn't fail. Hopefully, the Nemeton was destroyed along with Stiles.
Everything is over, and at the same time, it's just begun.
He's dwelling in his thoughts when he hears the doctor speak again, and returns his attention to the white-clad man.
"-problems with the pregnancy." He was saying to a nurse. "The mother is expected to wake up soon. Can you bring her the kid? You're always good with... difficult situations."
Difficult situations? That doesn't sound right. Stiles tries to frown, but manages no more than a pout.
The nurse glances at him and her eyes widen, focusing on his left arm. She looks horrified and a little sick, and Stiles follows her gaze to his previously unnoticed arm.
It's blood red. Not just burned red or badly-burned-red, as Stiles had often seen in the mirror after a day at the beach or an encounter with a flamethrower-carrying hunter respectively, but really, actually blood red. It looks scaly and inhuman, and Stiles can't help but sympathetize with the nurse as he idly wonders if it was an after effect of being reborn.
He'd seen much worse. He'd been cut and bruised and shot and once nearly skinned, he'd seen more blood in his life than he'd seen chocolate syrup and there is just something gravely wrong with that, because dammit, he'd always said his life needs more chocolate syrup. His arm doesn't bother him.
Stiles yawns. He's very, very tired. A few minutes of sleep can't hurt, can it? Well actually it very well could, as-
Stiles wakes up to the sound of a car starting.
He's lying on the backseat, wrapped in a blanket, and there's a woman shivering in the driver's seat. Stiles sleepily wonders if she's his mother- God, he hopes she is, because if she's not he's getting kidnapped again- and if she's cold.
She appears to have felt Stiles' gaze on her, because she turns around and scoots back when she sees the baby blue eyes staring into hers.
To his confusion and dread, Stiles sees something like fear flash in her eyes, which turns to an ugly defiance.
"I don't know what you are," she hisses, surprisingly venomous, and Stiles feels his heart drop, "But you're not my son."
W-what? Stiles can't believe his ears. What has he done wrong? Does his mom, his second chance, not love him?
Of course not, Stiles realizes. He isn't her real son. He probably stole her son's body anyway. It's selfish of him to think she would love him.
Traitorous tears well up in Stiles' eyes. He tries to wipe them away, but he can't.
"You'll never be welcome in our home. Just so you know this, Demon Kid, you won't trick me into thinking you're normal. I already saw that arm of yours."
The tears were now streaming down his cheeks, but his mother had already turned away and pressed on the gas. The car drives away silently, the only evidence left behind of it ever being there the black tire tracks.
That had hit too close to home. Memories of Void Stiles, the nogitsune, come drifting up and Stiles does his best to suppress a sob.
I'm not a demon, I'm not, you're wrong, I'm not I'mnotimnot-
Stiles sobs silently into his blue blanket, overtaken by memories, and soon cries himself to sleep for the first time in his life.