The first few weeks after the Dead Pool was shut down and the Benefactor handled, there was a small era of peace. The pack finished their junior (and freshman, in Liam's case) year of high school, and summer was just around the corner. All in all, everything was relatively normal in Beacon Hills.
Of course, normal doesn't last for very long.
"So we're fighting a what?" Stiles asked, pacing around Derek's loft anxiously.
"A druid," Scott replied.
"As in Jennifer level druid, or something we can actually handle?"
Lydia sighed. "Jennifer was a Darach. Not a druid," Pulling out a folder, she pointed to a picture. "His name's Jasper. Apparently he was asked to be an emissary for a werewolf pack, but chose to take a more violent path instead."
"What do you mean by violent?" Liam asked.
"It says here that he believed it was his task to wipe out all werewolf packs. That doesn't sound very good."
Scott stood up. "Well, we obviously need to stop him before he stops us."
"And how are we supposed to do that?" Kira asked.
"I think I might have an idea," Scott replied.
"This is not a very good idea!" Stiles yelled as he dodged a bolt of . . . whatever it was the druid was shooting at them.
"I mean, none of us expected him to be able to shoot spells at us!" Malia yelled, jumping to attack the druid before he threw her to the side.
The fight went on for quite a while. The supernatural beings of the pack were growing tired from the multiple attacks that were thrown at them. Stiles and Lydia, both staying closer to the sidelines, were trying to think of a way to gain the upper hand.
"Wait," Stiles muttered, looking around the abandoned factory. "I think I got something."
"What?" Lydia asked as he stood up and ran toward the fight. "Or just ignore me. That works too."
Running up to his alpha, Stiles said, "Scott, keep him distracted."
Before Scott could turn and ask why, Stiles had rand in the opposite direction.
"Please tell me that I still have it." Stiles fumbled through his pockets until he pulled out a small pouch. "Yes!"
Emptying a pile of mountain ash on his hand, he cautiously approached the distracted druid.
Looking at how his pack was faring, Scott felt a sense of dread. Malia, collapsed on the floor and clutching her side, was panting from exertion. Liam wasn't faring much better – his obvious head wound showed signs of concussion. Kira was still standing, thankfully, but not for much longer. And Lydia, who had thankfully stayed to the side with a first aid kit on hand, was debating whether or not she should help them.
That just left Stiles, who, by some miraculous reason, had almost completely surrounded the druid with mountain ash.
"Hey!" Scott yelled, gaining Jasper's attention. "Is that all you got?"
Turning in exasperation, the druid fired a large bolt of energy at the alpha, sending him slamming into the ground.
"I must admit: you all are one of the most entertaining packs I've fought with. But, all good things must come to an end." He started walking forward, only to come into contact with an invisible barrier. Confused and angry, he banged his hands against the wall.
"Not so smart now, are you?" Stiles said, approaching from behind with a smirk.
"Ah, the human of the pack. I have to admit, I did not see this coming."
Stiles sighed and said, "Alright, now the real question is: what are we gonna do with you?"
The druid laughed and replied, "You seem to be under the impression that I'm going to go with you willingly. Need I remind you – you don't know the first thing about what I'm capable of."
Stiles narrowed his eyes in confusion.
Jasper muttered something under his breath and his eyes began to glow a greenish blue. Taking in a sharp breath, Stiles barely had enough time to back up a few inches before he was thrown across the room with a blast of energy.
Seeing the human land on the floor in a heap, Scott and Lydia both screamed, "Stiles!"
Distracted by the sudden attack, no one noticed the druid casting another spell until he was gone in a poof of smoke.
Scott, too preoccupied to give much thought to the sudden disappearance, felt a sudden surge of adrenaline as he ran to his best friend's side. Cautiously turning the boy over, he noticed a small gash on Stiles' forehead. He let out a breath of relief. Aside from a few bruises and a killer headache, Stiles should be just fine.
Absentmindedly carding her fingers through Stiles' hair, Lydia looked out of the car window in disdain. Something was wrong. It was one of those feelings that was absolutely unexplainable, yet completely, irrevocably overwhelming.
Taking in a tense breath, she looked back at the unconscious boy. His hand held loosely by Malia's, he looked fairly peaceful. He should be waking up soon.
Whatever feeling of unease Lydia had, she knew she would feel better once Stiles woke up.
"This doesn't make any sense," Scott said, pacing around the animal clinic. "He should have woken up by now."
"He should have woken up hours ago," Lydia said tersely, staring at the pale boy with worry.
"You said that a druid cast the spell, am I correct?" Deaton asked, looking through his bookshelf for something.
"Yeah," Liam answered. "He said some sort of spell and then his eyes started glowing. But not like, werewolf glowing. They were green."
"Do you know what's wrong with him?" Malia asked.
"I might have an idea," Deaton mumbled, still looking through his bookcase. "Ah, here it is."
Putting an old, beat up book on the counter, the pack crowded around him as Deaton read aloud, " 'Common druid spells.' Let me see . . . 'Living Death,' 'Physical Mutation,' ah. Here it is." Deaton pointed to a spell in the middle of the book.
"Ciall Dichealtair," Lydia read slowly. "That translates to magical distortion of sanity. What does that mean?"
"It means that your druid has trapped Stiles inside his own mind. By sending a large wave of magical energy at him, the druid essentially cursed Stiles to 'relive his worst memories' " Deaton explained, reading the last part aloud from the old book. "If the victim is not waken from the curse, his or her brain will eventually shut down from sensory overload and trauma."
The pack looked at each other nervously.
"So how do we wake him up?" Kira asked, confused.
Deaton thought for a moment and said, "Scott, do you remember when you and Lydia retrieved Stiles from his mind?"
"You mean when the Nogitsune trapped him? Yeah," Scott replied, cringing at the memory.
"I believe that by doing the same thing today, you'll be able to wake him up."
Scott exhaled a tense breath and said, "Alright. So who should go?"
"Well, if this book is correct, I should have a way to send all of you to retrieve him. Persuasion works better in numbers."
A few minutes later, Malia, Liam, Kira, Scott, and Lydia were all standing in a circle around the unconscious Stiles. Scott stood behind Stiles' head, his hands on both of his shoulders, and looked at Deaton.
"Alright, according to this book, you all need to navigate your way through Stiles' dreamscape and find present day Stiles. Once you find him, you need to convince him to come back to Beacon Hills, and hopefully, you will all wake up within an hour or so."
"What do you mean hopefully?" Malia asked.
"I will admit, there are a few risks in doing this."
"But this is Stiles," Scott said. "I'm willing to take the risk." Lydia took a step next to him in silent agreement, and slowly the rest of the pack looked willingly toward the emissary.
"All you need to do is focus on Stiles. The spell should do the rest." Silently, everyone looked at the pale boy, Deaton's quiet muttering slowly fading away into darkness.