Out in the Dark I hear you calling

by alighttheflames

When Stiles 'wakes up' in a place full of darkness, its confusing for just a few moments before the meaning hits him. Now its up the the Pack and his father to try and figure out what has happened to him while he tries to become use to what his 'life' is going to be, even if its changing faster then he ever thought it would.

1. Wake up, I said Wake up!

The world was nothing but swirling ink, shifting between deep black and oil slick purples and greens, cloying and clinging myrrh chocked the air, and Stiles knew with out a doubt that he was dead. Furrowing his brow he tried to think back on how he got here, to this dark, and hopefully empty world, but all he could remember was being in his room and hearing a noise down stairs.

Stiles knew, deep inside himself where there seemed to be flickering bits of light that shed out to the rest of this depressing place, that if he hadn't been a part of the supernatural this isn't where he would have ended up. Deaton had been shoving book after book at him in the wake of the news that there was an Alpha pack coming, and in those books it spoke of the other sides, and being the researcher he was he had looked into things. Being a Spark meant that while he was human, his soul wasn't, well it was until it was awoken and after that there was no going back to where he had been before, magic would creep in slowly before taking over his life as the light inside him grew. It was almost fitting that he was in a place so dark when he was usually so bright.

He wondered, idly as he started walking forwards, his body casting a silver glow that made him think of bad B flick movies with ghost, if he would ever remember how he actually died, his father was probably beside himself in grief and it stirred something inside him briefly. But considering he didn't remember the feeling of even really "waking up" in this place, it was a moment of just knowing, and seeing and feeling the oppressiveness of this world around him pressing in from all sides un relenting in its persistence that made everything click into place, that he would never really know.

There was no telling how long he wondered, time didn't seem to hold much meaning or sway over him anymore and there was really no way to tell, all this place seemed to be was a inky pit of darkness. The only way he could tell that time was indeed passing was a rhythmic pull that centered deep in his gut, a place he didn't really want to look at, because he was afraid of what he would see.

'Was it your guts or your heart? Either way they are awfully pretty.