A/N: Nearing the end of this journey. Though I'm sure I could always right another Teen Wolf story because the platform is pretty open, you could pretty much write a story about anything. Any prompts that haven't been done you're interested in? I plan on having another chapter/epilogue to follow this up. Hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 10

While Deaton, Allison and Scott's mom poured over plans and books Lydia stayed with Stiles and watched the commotion from afar. The two gulped thick black coffee out of dingy cups to keep awake.

"Lydia, I appreciate the gesture and all but you really should get some sleep. I'll be okay for a little while." Stiles told her as he brought the cup shakily to his lips to take another scalding sip.

"No. What if because he can't get to you he tries to possess me instead?" Lydia asked him her eyes big and round with worry. He placed his mug down slopping some over the sides and brought his hand to her leg and traced small circles with his thumb. He couldn't say anything to dispel her worries, they were accurate and they both knew it. They both had been a part of the ceremony that drew him here and he was attached to him which also meant he was attached to her.

It was evening on the second day in Deaton's office. Thankfully a Sunday and the vet's office was closed or they would have had some angry pet owners to deal with. Stiles had managed to keep from falling asleep and had yet to feel the tendrils of evil swirl over him though he constantly felt like someone was watching. They had decided it was probably better if he wasn't in on the planning, the less he knew the better.

His body throbbed but he adamantly refused to take any pain relief fearing that it would allow the demon to overcome him or lull him into sleep. He was actually thankful for the pain because even though he was exhausted and wanted to sleep the agony he felt would have made it nearly impossible. Scott and Isaac had gone out to retrieve the necessary items for the exorcism. It wouldn't be long now.

"Are you scared?" Lydia asked him clearly uncomfortable with the silence that had fallen between them.

"Honestly? I'm too tired to be scared. I'm in too much pain. I'm just ready for this to be over, one way or the other." Lydia stifled a gasp of concern and brought her hand to his sweaty brow and pushed his bangs back and he closed his eyes at the comforting gesture.

His father arrived looking worse for the wear. One look at him and Stiles could tell he hadn't been the only one refraining from sleep. His father seemed to have aged since he had last seen him before his dramatic escape from the hospital. He seemed to be aware of what was happening, someone had kept him informed, and that he was grateful for, he couldn't tell his father he was going to die. His father made a beeline right for him and brought his arms around him and pulled him into a hug. His ribs and shoulder protested, his back singing in pain but he didn't care he longed for the contact. His father was brushing kisses on the top of his head and mumbling incoherently but Stiles could feel the hiccupping in his breath and the pounding in his father's chest. His father was crying. And of course that set him off too.

They stayed locked in their familial embrace for minutes or hours, either way Stiles wasn't ready for it to end just yet. But time has a way of marching forward on you whether you want it or not. "John, Stiles, sweetie we're ready." Melissa said as she laid a hand on both of the Stilinski men, her eyes were laced with worry and unshed tears.

Stiles nodded and brushed the tears off of his cheeks with the back of his shirt. "Okay, let's get this party started." Stiles attempted.

"If you weren't hurt and your life in imminent peril I'd smack you for that." Lydia chastised him as she helped support his weight as he lumbered over to the shiny morgue like table in the middle of the room. "And when you are all better I'm going smack you silly, remember that."

Stiles chuckled at her poor attempt at nonchalance. "Deal." It was easier to focus on something else rather than what was about to occur. He let out a small whimper as they hoisted him onto the table. He'd be thankful to be over this so that he could go back on medication without fear of being burned alive. The pain really was getting to him nearly making him delirious. He nearly bit through his lip as they unclasped his sling and pulled his clammy shirt off him and laid him stiffly back on the cold table.

Melissa removed the bandage covering the welted burn on his chest and checked it over. She moved his injured arm down to his side and it hurt but not as much as he would have thought. She moved to his good hand and started an IV line, shutting the valve to off. He looked at her kind of puzzled. "For later." She murmured. She didn't need to specify. After he was dead and hopefully managed to take on a demon and come back. After. Hopefully there was an after.

Lydia took over the position on his good hand and clasped it in both of hers. Tears were making tracks down her cheeks. Stiles longed to kiss them away and he promised himself he would when they were both back.

Everyone that wasn't partaking in the ceremony was pushed to the periphery of the room. The lights had been shut off and Deaton had lit candles around the room and began burning different types of herbs. Deaton nodded to Lydia who begrudgingly let go of Stiles's hand and placed a kiss on his cheek. "See you soon." She whispered in his ear before she made her way over to stand with Allison, Melissa and his father. He couldn't look at them anymore. Instead he trained his eyes on the ceiling and tried to focus on his breathing.

"Okay Stiles. We're going to start with the ceremony. This will call the demon. The demon will drain you until it pulls you under, to the veil. It is there that you must defeat him. We will send Lydia in after a bit and she will be able to pull you back. If everything goes well we should be done before breakfast." Deaton said giving him a small smile.

Deaton began chanting in some language Stiles had never heard of. After only a moment he felt the first pull of the demon reaching out for him. It felt like shackles made of electric and it hurt but at the same time he couldn't move. He clenched his eyes shut and took huge breaths and blew it out noisily. He didn't want them to see him cry or scream. If he was going to die, especially if it might be permanent, he wanted to go out with a shred of dignity.

The demon continued to wrap itself around him, cocooning him in a ball of pain. Stiles still had not cried out though he surly had bit through his lip again because the acrid taste of blood filled his mouth. The pressure on his chest is immeasurable. This is surly what it must feel like when you get something heavy dropped on you, like say a semi. The weight is crushing and he can't get air into his lungs. His mind is screaming in panic but physically he is silent. His vision is dimming rapidly and realizes this is it. The moment he's going to cross over from the land of the living to the other side. He truly preferred the icy cold bath technique they used previously. This was far worse than drowning.

He could hear rather than feel his heart beat erratically slowing with each thump. He desperately wanted air but knew he wouldn't get it. He tried to relax his limbs and stop his fighting instinct but he couldn't. He knew he needed to die to face this evil but he still couldn't stop his body from fighting to survive.

The light finally faded out and Stiles was plunged into a frigid darkness. For a demon that could set him on fire you'd think he would have at least felt a little warmer. But perhaps death was always cold and empty no matter what demon took you there.

He could see the hazy demon take a shape in front of him. "At long last, you obey me!" The demon spoke though Stiles couldn't be sure because he couldn't really see him.

"No, I don't obey you. I'm not going to ever obey you. You need to go back to whatever depth of hell you surfaced from." Stiles spat out angrily. The demon lunged out and grabbed him by the throat. Even though he couldn't breathe it still felt as if he were choking. When he finally convinced his mind of that he went lax and quit struggling. The demon was furious and threw him causing him to roll with the impact.

His body was damaged in the real world but here near the veil it had been strangely perfect. That was until he'd stopped the free fall from the throw with his arms. They were scuffed and bleeding from the impact. "You dare speak to me with disrespect. I will consume you. I will have your body for my own. Then I will dismember each and every person standing in that room with you Stiles. That's right I know there are people watching over you right now. That you hope to conquer me, I hate to tell you that will never happen."

Stiles didn't answer. Provoking the demon didn't seem to have any good effect other than making him angry and violent. He didn't know how he was ever going to defeat him. He slowly stood brushing off nonexistent dirt and stood shakily to his feet.

The demon pounced on him again punching him ruthlessly in the face, the stomach, breaking him down bit by bit. But Stiles continued to dust himself off and stand up after each relentless attack. He focused his mind on something else. On the love he feels for his father and his need to protect him. On the love his mother could easily give even as she lay on her death bed. On his best friend and all they'd been through together. On Melissa and how she had stepped up to be a nurturing and loving figure he so desperately needed. He thought about the pack and how they fought for one another now instead of with one another. He focused on anything and everything. He saved Lydia for last, when he was sure his strength would give out and he'd succumb to the demon's wrath once and for all. As if the thought of the girl brought her forward she appeared next to him.

The demon looked furious and completely undone. He hadn't been expecting another person to enter their private party. The demon moved quickly, to no doubt inflict his pain on Lydia, but Stiles was faster he side stepped in front of her and punched forward with his fist. The demon impaled himself on Stiles's hand. There was no blood, no wet feeling, and no bone breaking, just a feeling of emptiness, of searing heat and dust.

Stiles pulled his hand back through and the figure of the demon scattered much like dust in the wind. Stiles collapsed down onto his hands and knees cradling his burned and blistered hand. He was spent. He was so tired he needed to just lie down and go to sleep.

"Stiles?" Lydia's voice echoed a little like she was far away. "Stiles you can't go to sleep now. You can't. It isn't your time. You need to come back with me." She held out her hand to him and Stiles knew he needed to take it. To go back to his body and his life but he wasn't sure that's what he wanted anymore. In this hereafter he was fading and soon there wouldn't be any more pain. He could rest and he felt so weary and spent that's all he wanted.

"Fight for me Stiles." Lydia cried and one look at her tear strained eyes and he knew he couldn't leave her. He grasped her hand in his and stood shakily to his feet. He brushed his hand on her cheek and leaned into kiss her lips.

And then his world exploded. He was back.