Chapter 2
Stiles was set on his decision; he was going to summon a crossroads demon. He wasn't sure yet as of what exactly he was going to ask for, but he knew it would result in the death of the werewolf who killed his mom. Two weeks flew by where Stiles divided his time between school, and hanging out at home doing research on crossroads demons. Even his dad started to find his constant presence at home strange.
"How come you haven't been hanging out with Scott lately?" his dad had asked him.
"We had kind of a fall out. He's probably too busy with Allison anyways."
His dad looked at him with questioning eyes but decided to let it go, something Stiles was really grateful for that. He didn't want to talk about Scott or anything related to the pack. He missed all the meetings following his little breakdown and no one had questioned him about it, thank God. He didn't feel like dealing with any of them, especially didn't know where in the hell he'd found the courage to kiss Derek. For months he'd been waking up drenched in sweat and cum moaning Derek's name against his pillow trying not to wake up his dad. Kissing him was one of the craziest things he'd ever done, and Stiles had done his fair share of crazy shit in his short lifetime. For all he knew Derek could've bitten his head off or punched him but when saw the way Derek was looking at him he knew he had nothing to lose. At this point he didn't know where exactly his relationship with Derek stood but he at least hoped they would not go back to Derek pushing him around and ignoring him. He thought he at least deserved a little respect from Derek considering he had, if only a little bit, the Alpha's affection. Who was he kidding? Derek was probably overcome with lust only because he hadn't gotten laid in a while and Stiles had mistaken the look in his eyes for love. What did Stiles know about love anyways? He thought he had always been in love with Lydia but then he started developing strange feelings for Derek out of the blue. He'd also never had a serious relationship with anyone so it's not like he really knew what being in love felt like.
The sound of the Doctor Who theme song blasting from his phone startled Stiles, it was Scott.
"Yes?" Stiles answered.
"Stiles? It's me, Scott!" Scott's voice announced cheerfully from the other end of the line.
"I am well aware of that Scott, caller id?" Stiles answered stifling a laugh.
"Oh, right." Scott's voice answered chuckling.
He loved his best friend to death but even he couldn't deny the fact that Scott was incredibly stupid sometimes.
"Did you do me the favor I asked you?" Stiles inquired hopefully.
"Yeah, I did. Dr. Deaton kept looking at me weird, though. He also asked me a lot of strange questions and he ended up figuring out that whatever the hell you asked me to get for you wasn't for me but for someone else. So he told me to tell whoever hand sent me to get that stuff to go and pick it up themselves. Just what the hell is that Achilles' millennium stuff, Stiles? What do you need it for?" Scott whined.
"It's Achillea Millefollium, not Achilles' millennium, and it's a plant for a special ointment I need to make."
"Really? Because the minute I mentioned that thing to Dr. Deaton he asked me why would someone like me want that."
Shit, Stiles groaned. He would've loved nothing more than to be able to share his plan with Scott, but he knew better. If he told anything to Scott, who was a very bad liar, and the pack noticed there was something wrong with him Derek's Alpha status would be enough to rip the truth out of Scott's mouth. Stiles knew very well if they found out they would try to stop him claiming "don't do this, the pack can protect you." Bullshit. He was tired of feeling defenseless against werewolves, and all the supernatural shit. He nearly died when that new dude Matt went all psycho kanima all of the sudden and started killing people. He was not going through that again. He also didn't want Dr. Deaton to know he was planning on selling his soul. Ever since the pack found out Dr. Deaton was some sort of supernatural "advisor," but Stiles thought the term witch doctor was way cooler, they rushed to him with any kind of questions. That's why he knew if someone would be able to find this plant in California it would be him.
"Tell Dr. Deaton the person who sent you is going to go see him today." Stiles told Scott.
"Do you want me to wait for you?" Scott offered.
Stiles could hear Scott's hope in his voice, and he felt like crap for having ditched his friend for two weeks.
"No, you don't have to. By the time I show up your shift will be over. But hey, maybe you and I can hang out afterwards; play some video games and order something to eat, okay?"
Scott stayed quiet for a moment before murmuring "Sure, see you later then." And he hung up.
Don't worry, dude. Stiles thought to himself. When all of this is done there won't be any more secrets.
Derek, Jackson and Dr. Deaton walked into the backroom just as Scott was putting his phone away. Derek couldn't help but notice the disappointment on his Beta's face. He looked closely to the boy and sniffed the air covertly. Yes, Scott was definitely in emotional pain.
"Scott, is everything alright?" Deaton asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm almost done cleaning up so I'll be out of your hairs soon."
Deaton smiled and nodded while Derek shook his head.
"There's no need for you to leave, Scott. You know any pack matters I discuss with Deaton also concern you too."
Scott gave Derek a small smile.
"Nah, it's okay. I'm going home to do some homework and then I'm meeting Stiles."
At the mention of Stiles name Derek became very still. It had been two weeks since he'd last heard from him. Two weeks since that horrid day when he was forced to see his boy so devastated upon learning the truth about his mother's death. He hadn't seen Stiles since that night he showed up on his doorstep, and they kissed. That mother fucking kiss. The mere memory of it set Derek's insides on fire. The feel of Stiles lips molding to his, the sweet taste of his mouth intermingled with the whiskey's bitterness. Derek inhaled slowly through his nose and tried to control himself. It wouldn't do for Scott and Jackson to notice his state of arousal. Feeling someone's eyes upon him, Derek looked up and glared at Jackson when he found him looking his way. The boy cringed and went back to playing with his phone.
"Is he okay? I mean, after what happened…" Derek stopped himself from saying more.
"He seems fine. I only see him at school during the few classes we share together. He did tell me he'd rather stay away from any werewolf related activities, though." Scott offered apologetically while Derek nodded in understanding. "Oh I almost forgot, Dr. Deaton, the person I talked to you about earlier is coming up later today to pick up the Achilles thing. I got to go, see you later guys." Scott said nodding to Derek and walked out the door.
Achilles? I knew it, he's lost his mind, Jackson mumbled while Deaton chuckled and Derek's mouth twitched trying not to crack a smile. The reason why Derek had shown up at Dr. Deaton's was because he wanted to talk to him about the other werewolf scent he picked up while he was in the woods. Much to his disappointment, Deaton had not heard anything related to the possibility of a new wolf on town. He did tell him, however, of sensing supernatural forces approaching Beacon Hills.
"What do you mean, 'supernatural forces'? Can't you specify what they are?" Derek inquired.
"I can't quiet put my finger on it. All I know is that is nothing I've ever faced before. I've been doing research and nothing comes up. I also talked to some acquaintances of mine who might be able to help. Based off the information I've given them they haven't been able to help much either."
"Should we be worried about this?" Jackson asked from where he was standing. He had stopped playing with his phone and was paying attention to Derek and Deaton's conversation.
"Not yet, but you guys should still be on the lookout. Check for anything out of the ordinary around town, any abnormal behavior, things like that. Depending on what we find we'll know how to proceed."
Derek and Jackson said their goodbyes and were about to leave when Dr. Deaton called Derek back and asked if he could stay for a little longer.
"It's important." Deaton clarified.
"No need to worry about me, Derek. I can walk all the way home." Jackson offered acidly.
Derek looked at Jackson and frowned, they had driven here in his car and he felt kind of bad making him walk all the way back to his house where Jackson's Porsche was. He breathed gruffly and threw his Camaro's keys, none too gently, at Jackson who winced at the unexpected impact of the keys on his chest.
"If I see as much as a scratch you're dead meat." He growled.
Jackson swallowed awkwardly and nodded as he trotted out of the room.
"You know, for all the tough, fearful, Alpha act you pull with everyone you can't deny you care about your pack's wellbeing." Dr. Deaton grinned.
"Whatever," Derek grumbled, "what is it you wanted to tell me?"
"Summer solstice is approaching and I was wondering if you already had a mate in mind-"
"Not this again, Deaton. I already told you, I don't want nor do I need a mate. I'm doing just fine on my own."
"We both know that is not true, Derek. A wolf needs a pack and seeks a mate whether he's aware of it or not. No matter how much you accomplish with your pack or on your own you'll always feel that burning, gaping hole in your chest. I see how damaged you are, Derek. Now, I know you might think you're not worthy or capable of love but I think your pack has shown you otherwise. You've changed. You're not that bitter, lonely boy any longer. You've become a well-adjusted Alpha, just think of how extraordinary you could be if you let yourself truly love and care for that other person who's destined for you."
Derek shook his head, refusing to let himself to even think of believing Deaton's words. He had already let his guard down once, he let himself love someone and that only caused his family's demise.
"I don't need a mate. Besides, it's not like I'll find one here with all the shit I have to handle on a daily basis. I can't afford to open up to someone that way again, much less fall in love." Derek said bitterly.
"Is that so?" Dr. Deaton said thoughtfully, a knowing smile slowly splitting his face. "This wouldn't have to do anything with the feelings Mr. Stilinski has started to awaken in you, would it?"
Derek turned towards Dr. Deaton and gave him his meanest glare, hoping to bully the man into shutting up. After all, he had hit too close to the truth. Derek hadn't thought of the possibility that Stiles might be his mate, but after their little showdown two weeks ago he wasn't so sure anymore. That day he had felt Stiles pain as his own. If Stiles had been one of his wolves he would've pinned those feelings as a result of the Alpha-Beta bond. But even if Stiles was part of his pack Derek would never be able to have that connection with a human. There was a big chance Stiles might be his mate after all.
A while after Derek left the Vet's office Dr. Deaton was starting to feel agitated at having to wait for Scott's mysterious "friend" to show up. He was about to close the office when he heard the sound of a car engine outside. He grabbed the rest of his belongings, along with small bag he had filled with Yarrow, and made his way to the reception to meet the stranger. He was expecting anything but the sight that greeted him: Stiles Stilinski's awkward smile.
"Mr. Stilinski, you're the one who wants the Achillea?" Deaton asked curiously.
"Yes, I need to make a… concoction for a friend. He got kind of got injured during Lacrosse practice. So if you don't mind I'll be taking this" The boy answered confidently, reaching for the bag on the Dr. Deaton's hand but Deaton moved it out of his reach before he could get to it.
"I would've thought that being best friends with a nurse's kid had its advantages, being able to confide in her about injuries as your friend's is one of them. Whatever ails your friend, I'm sure Mrs. McCall would be more than happy to help. Why would you feel the need of making up a remedy yourself?"
Stiles didn't know what else to tell Dr. Deaton, he had a feeling if he talked to much Deaton would guess what he was up to and would somehow try to stop him.
"Alright, you got me, there's no injured friend. But I really need that." Stiles implored, pointing at Deaton's hand.
The vet assessed Stiles's face carefully, the boy almost squirming under the scrutiny, whatever he saw must have done the job because handed Stiles the bag.
"Thank you so much, Dr. Deaton." Stiles breathed.
Dr. Deaton signaled him to exit the office and Stiles followed. As Stiles made way for his jeep Deaton called out to him again. When he turned around he saw Deaton's pitiful expression and paused.
"Whatever you're looking for I hope you find it. More than anything, though, I hope no one gets hurt in the process."
And with those words Deaton stepped into his car and drove away.
Stiles thought about Deaton's words during his drive home. There was no way other people would get hurt if he went through with this, Right? It was his soul, his business. He would make sure that his father and the pack would be taken care of. He looked at the passenger seat next to him and resisted the urge patting the small bag. He had everything he needed for the ritual: his yearbook photo, the yarrow, graveyard dirt, and a black cat bone. Which by the way? It was totally gross to obtain. He had to sneak into the pet cemetery in the middle of the night and ransack Bubbles' tomb, Coach Finstock's old cat.
Stiles checked his GPS again to make sure he had the right location. Prior leaving his house he had looked up some dirt roads intersections in Beacon Hill. He wanted to make sure to pick one that was farther away from town. He didn't want anyone, especially one of his dad's coworkers, to see him. They would certainly find it suspicious if he drove to a crossroads this late at night and saw him burying a box. He pulled over and parked on the side of the road. He shoved the small bag of yarrow in his backpack, and pulled the shovel he had brought from the back seat. Taking a deep breath he set himself to work. The first thing that popped into his head as he was shoveling dirt was that maybe he should've listened to Greenberg months ago when he suggested Stiles should work on his upper body strength. Who the hell listens to Greenberg anyways? He wasn't anywhere near to having dug a whole deep enough and he was already sweating like a pig. When he felt he had done a decent job Stiles placed the yarrow, the picture, the cat bone, and graveyard dirt inside the small wooden box he'd used to collect baseball cards as a child, and buried it.
Wiping his hands on his jeans he breathed, "That's pretty much it." He waited a few seconds, nothing happened. Five minutes later? Still nothing. He bit his lower lip trying to hold the tears forming in his eyes. He shook his head at his own stupidity and had a harsh laugh. Of course, when has something ever worked for Stiles Stilinski? He kicked a nearby rock angrily and yelped at the pain on his foot. He decided to let the tears fall and blame them on the pain he was feeling instead of blaming them on the disappointment, and powerlessness that invaded his soul. This was his only chance, what was he supposed to do now?
"You called?" a bored, female voice with a British accent asked from somewhere behind him.
Stiles whipped around and found himself looking at a gorgeous woman. She had shoulder length dark blonde hair, and big green eyes. She was wearing a floor length black dress, her eyes glowed crimson red when she smirked at him.
"Well, are you going to talk or not? I had a very good poker hand back in hell before you summoned me." She said dryly.
"I-I-I'm Stiles, and I wish to sell my soul, please." He said clearing his throat and wiping the tears from his face.
The woman stopped smirking and looked at him soberly.
"Don't you think you're a bit young to be considering this?" she offered.
"I'm sixteen years old for Christ's sake; I think I'm old enough to know what I'm doing." Stiles scoffed, standing up straight.
"It's nothing personal; I've made it one of my rules not to negotiate with people so…young." The woman said quietly.
"Look, I'm sure you have your reasons but I really need this. I just need some kind of superpower or something to kill the werewolf who's after me."
The woman regarded him quietly before bursting into laughs.
"I'm sorry, did you just say you want superpowers to fight a werewolf?" she asked between hiccups, "why not just get bitten by one, that way you'll be able to fight him equally. Or you could get bitten by a vampire, that could work too."
Stiles gaped at the woman. Vampires!? Great, more supernatural shit to worry about.
"Look, Stimes-" she started.
"It's Stiles."
"Stiles," she smiled, "I know of some hunters who might be able to help you with your problem. I used to know them back when I was human and they were really good. I'm sure if you explained your situation-"
"No, no hunters. I need to do this myself. This is not a matter of protection for myself, this is about payback. That bastard that's after me killed my mom in front me of seven years ago and I didn't remember until recently. I've been lied to for half of my life and I'm tired on having to rely on someone else. I need to kill him myself. I'm pretty sure looking the way you look you've never felt helpless and you've always gotten what you wish for but I need to do this." Stiles finished out of breath.
The woman looked at him quietly before whispering "I have felt helpless, and I ended up making a stupid decision at a very young age. Which is what you're about to do."
"Are you seriously trying to talk me out of selling my soul?" Stiles asked in disbelief, "I demand to speak with your manager or whoever the hell is in charge of you." He added.
The woman laughed and started saying something else when a voice cut her off.
"Bela, Darling, is this true?" The woman paled at the sound of the new voice.
Stiles felt kind of bad now. Had he gotten her in trouble? He looked around for the source of the voice, which was tinged with another heavy accent, but found no one. The woman righted herself, a defiant look on her face before speaking again.
"You know I don't negotiate with minors." She offered.
"Oh, but I think the boy's pretty determined." The voice offered.
Stiles kept looking from Bela to the empty space around them. Who the hell was speaking to her?
"Cr-"
"Shut up and go! I'll be speaking with you shortly."
"I don't think-"
"Abigail!" the voice yelled.
Bela gave Stiles one last troubled look before disappearing into thin air.
"Um, hello?" Stiles asked nervously.
"Now, where were we?"
Stiles shrieked before falling to the ground. What the hell was it with people popping up behind him? He looked up and saw a smirking man in a suit. Evil was the first word that came to mind. Okay, the guy didn't look completely evil, more like cartoon evil. He was wearing a black suit and sporting a cane.
"Who are you?" Stiles stammered.
"Oh, I've gone by many names."
"Are you Lucifer or something?" Stiles asked earning a look of distaste from the man.
"As if! My name is Crowley, who might you be?"
"My name's Stiles, Stiles Stilinski." Crowley frowned upon hearing his name. He was probably about to make a comment about his weird name but in the end said nothing.
"So you want to sell your soul. What can I offer you? Riches? Fame? Women? No, those would come along by themselves once you get the first two. You want a few extra inches in the sack?" he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Stiles.
Stiles burst out laughing, he thought demons were supposed to be mean and scary yet here he was laughing at one.
"No. What I need is a superpower or something of sorts." Stiles said, exasperated. He was tired of having to explain himself to these people. Demons, demon-people?
"A superpower?" Crowley asked scrunching up his forehead in confusion.
"I want to kill the wolf that killed my mother. As you can see I'm 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones, there's not much I can do on my own." Stiles finished quietly.
"Well, I'll admit there's not much I can do about 'superpowers' but I believe there's something we can work out." Crowley said thoughtfully.
Crowley snapped his fingers and another man materialized next to him. His eyes were black as coal when he sneered at Stiles.
"Here's what I can offer," Crowley said, his tone meaning business, "I can give you one of my men to stick with you until this werewolf shows up. Once he does show up my man kills him, and then comes back to me. You'll have your revenge, I'll have my new soul and my demon back, and everyone lives happily ever after. Problem solved." Crowley smiled proud of himself.
"Sorry, no deal. I want to be able to fight the guy myself. If I wanted someone to kill him for me I would just talk to my friends who are also werewolves or I would go to the hunters from my town."
At the mention of hunters the black eyed demon recoiled and eyed Stiles warily. Crowley, on the other hand, looked at Stiles with new interest.
"You're friends with werewolves and know hunters. Just what kind of boy are you?" Crowley asked fascinated. "Let's make things more interesting. You want a front row seat on the action when it happens?" Stiles nodded. "Then you will, with one of my men inside you." Crowley smirked.
Okay, that sounded so wrong. Why did Stiles feel violated all of the sudden?
"What do you mean inside me?" Stiles asked mortified.
"Get your head out of the gutter, kid. I'm talking about demon possession. Although," he paused, "if the prior is what you're into…something could be arranged. Only if I'm the one to do it of course, I've always liked them young and pretty after all." The man leered at Stiles.
And just like that things got 10 times creepier.
"You're saying I have to willingly let a demon possess me, and I'll have its powers?" Crowley nodded.
This sounded too easy. A quote he read once in one of his favorite books materialized in his head. How do you know if a demon is lying? His lips are moving… All he needs to do is let a demon possess him, kick some werewolf ass, and things will be back to normal; all of that for the price of his precious soul. Thinking about it he realized he would not be getting much in the long run, but knowing he will have avenged his mother felt right. He guessed it was worth it.
"How long will I have? If I make the deal, how much longer until you come to collect?" Stiles asked softly.
"You get ten years, but I like you so much I'll be willing to throw in an extra two. That'll give you twelve more years to live a happy, fruitful life. You can go off to college, fall in love. How old are you now 15, 16 years old? In twelve years you'll be 28. Hey, you can even start a family. My advice would be you shouldn't, though. Imagine those cute, big cheeked, brown eyed babies being orphaned at such a young age."
Stiles couldn't help picturing the life Crowley was narrating. He saw himself a few years into the future: going off to college, meeting new people. His vision blurred and instead of kissing some random blond he saw himself holding on to a muscular back for dear life. He saw himself cuddling with Derek in a small apartment studio in the city. Then he pictured Derek holding a small baby while Stiles blew raspberries into its little belly. A single tear escaped his eye. He knew this vision wasn't true, he knew it couldn't happen. Derek would always choose pack above anything, and there would always be threats hanging above their heads. He would never be able to forgive himself if he didn't do this.
"Fine, where do I sign?" Stiles said somberly.
Crowley laughed victorious and shook his head.
"This is not the way we seal deals around here, sweetheart. Pucker up!" Crowley said, pursing his lips.
"What?!" Stiles cried.
"We seal it with a kiss." Crowley murmured seductively.
Oh God, Stiles groaned to himself. Maybe if he just did it really quick, just a touch of the lips should be enough right? He walked towards Crowley and leaned his head inches from his. When Crowley lips came in contact with his own Stiles tried to not to gag, he tried to move away quickly only to have Crowley pinch his side.
"Ow!" Stiles screamed.
A big mistake, because now Crowley took advantage of the opening to shove his tongue in Stiles mouth. Stiles teeth clamped on Crowley's tongue and the man cursed moving away. The black eyed demon laughed at the scene unfolding before him.
"Feisty, I like." Crowley smirked.
"What now?" Stiles barked.
Crowley signaled to the other demon who walked languidly towards Stiles. Once he was standing in front of Stiles he opened his eyes and a cloud of black smoke flew out of his mouth aiming for Stiles face. The body the smoke had vacated dropped to the floor, lifeless. The smoke invaded Stiles'mouth and nostrils, making its way down his throat. Stiles thought he was going to be sick. Once the smoke was in Stiles coughed and inhaled deeply. He touched his chest and arms, making sure he hadn't grown any horns or something. He was about to complain to Crowley when he felt something crawling up his throat. Oh my God. The dark smoke flew back inside the man lying on the floor and he opened his black eyes in confusion.
"What in the bloody hell just happen?!" Crowley yelled.
"I don't know sir, it didn't work. I went in, I was settled for a few seconds and then I was gone. It's like something dragged me out."
Both demons turned intrigued stares at Stiles. Crowley made his way towards Stiles and grabbed him by his chin. He moved the boy's head from side to side looking into his eyes. He then sniffed him? Wrapping his hand on Stiles'neck he used the ring on his little finger to scratch Stiles' skin, drawing up blood. Stiles brought his hand to his neck and looked at Crowley accusingly. But the man chose to ignore him, bringing his hand to his mouth and licking the ring where Stiles' blood had collected. A smile of true fascination spread over his face.
"What in the hell are you?" the black eyed demon spat at Stiles.
A maniac smile still plastered on his face, Crowley dragged the demon to Stiles and produced a dagger.
"Woah, buddy. No need for violence!" Stiles screeched.
Crowley cackled some more and sliced the demon's wrist, rich crimson blood spilling on the grass. "Drink it." Crowley ordered Stiles.
Wait, what? First he had to make out with a creepy, rapey demon, now he had to drink demon blood? This was certainly some Twilight Zone shit. Stiles kneeled in front of the demon and opened his mouth tentatively under the stream of blood. He hated to admit it, but the shit tasted kind of good. As the blood flowed down his throat Stiles felt a sense of exhilaration spreading through his body.
"Isn't that enough?" the black eyed demon whined, looking kind of pale.
Crowley ignored him and urged Stiles to drink more patting his head. When he saw Stiles had drank enough he pushed the demon away and helped Stiles stand up.
"How do you feel, Darling?" Crowley asked, watching Stiles carefully.
"I feel… I feel freaking amazing. This was better than sex! Not that I've ever had sex to make the comparison but this is certainly the best I've ever felt." Stiles rambled.
Crowley laughed and clapped him in the back.
"Let's try this again." He told the other demon.
Again, the smoke flew out of the demon's mouth and into Stiles. Only this time it didn't feel as bad as the first time and Stiles welcomed it. He opened his eyes and stared at Crowley.
"I don't feel any different." He said.
Crowley held the dagger up to Stiles face and nodded. Stiles wiped the blood off the dagger and gasped at his reflection. His eyes were black as night. He grinned and immediately backed away quickly, a little freaked out by the eerie effect of his dark eyes and his smile.
"Okay, that is beyond cool!" Stiles cried before starting to feel dizzy. There was a darkness lurking behind his eyelids. "What's happening?" he gulped.
Before being swallowed by the darkness he saw Crowley's amused grin as he fell to the ground. From far away he could hear Crowley's voice booming, "This is going to be so much fun…"
A/N: I am posting this on lj account and then here. This is my first fic collaboration to the Teen Wolf fandom so I'm kinda scared lol. Again reviews are more than welcome.
