On The Edge Of Darkness:

'This is Dr Alan Deaton. Please leave a message after the beep.'

The voicemail message caused me to groan out loud in frustration as I pinched my bridge of my nose and I took a deep breath to control my emotions as there was a beep in my ear. "Hey, Alan, it's Sophie. Listen, something weird happened to me tonight. We came across another Chimera and I felt this strange connection with him. Something like has only happened once before, with Tracy. It was like I had to protect them. Like it wasn't a conscious decision. I absolutely had to, like a compulsion to keep them safe. Anyway, call me back. I'm kind of freaking out here. Bye."

I threw the cell phone down on the bed next to me as I covered my face with both hands and muffled a scream as I squeezed my eyes closed in aggravation. I had been on edge since I had dropped Liam and Mason off at the formers house after the commotion at the club. I'd kept it together when I was in their presence, not wanting to freak them out any more than what they already were but the events of the night were eating away at me.

It wasn't the violence that I had seen (because that was now a common occurrence), or the death that I had witnessed (because I had seen enough to last a lifetime), or the existence of the masked men (because it was Beacon Hills and there would always be someone trying to disturb the fragile peace), but my reaction to the presence of a Chimera.

I had been distracted when we confronted Tracy but I still felt the urge to protect her from harm, thinking that it was the normal hero complex everyone in the pack suffered from. It was multiplied tenfold when I was in the same vicinity of Lucas, becoming a compulsion to keep him safe no matter the consequences to my own wellbeing. There was so much going on that I didn't take the time to catalogue my feelings on the matter, so many conflicting emotions and sensations that I couldn't comprehend what was happening.

Now that everything had slowed down and I had time to repay the events of the past few days over in my head, my thought went into hyper-drive trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for the phenomenon.

Pacing around the living area of Derek's loft helped me organise my thoughts, to prioritise and itemise everything that happened.

The loft was the first place I thought to come when I wanted to be alone. It had become my safe haven from the moment Derek moved in and that had only increased when we started dating, but now that it was abandoned it had become a sanctuary away from everyone else. There was no one here who wanted me to do anything for them, no one to ask me questions or demand answers, nothing to burden me except for my own thoughts. The fact that Derek's scent still lingered in the air was a pleasurable bonus that gave it even more of a safe haven vibe and calmed my nerves more than I could imagine.

I tossed my phone down on the couch before throwing myself down next to it with a huff escaping me and I bent my knees up to my chest as I wrapped my arms around my shins, crossing my feet at the ankle. 'Paramore' played softly in the background as I rested my forehead on my knees and tried not to get lost in my thoughts, tried not to get trapped inside my mind so deep that I couldn't get out. That was a fear of mine, that I wouldn't be able to fight off the demons that lived inside my mind and they would entangle me in doubt until I was stuck there forever with no chance of escape.

It was a secret fear I kept to myself out of apprehension that someone would take advantage of the weakness. The last thing I wanted was to end up locked in a padded cell at Eichen House, muttering to people who weren't there and whispering to the demons that called my mind their home.

Sometimes I wished I could look my demons in the eye and bare my soul to them, hoping for compassion or empathy where there was none. I'd tell them to do their best: destroy me, hurt me, drive me insane because I've been to hell and back so many times that they kind of bore me. I could make it through whatever they threw at me, whatever they thought would cause me to break. I was stronger than their desire to overtake my mind.

A loud ringing erupted from my cell phone and my eyes flew open as I launched across the couch to grab the device, thinking it might be Deaton getting back to me. My heart was beating furiously in anticipation as I answered it without checking the caller ID and I held up to my ear as I landed on my stomach on the couch, "Hello?"

"Sophie…"

"Stiles! Hey, what's up?" I asked with a force cheer in my voice as I rearranged the way I was sitting so I was upright with my legs crossed underneath me. I frowned in concern when I realised it was after 9 o'clock and there was no reason that he would be calling me so late at night.

"So-Sophie…Some-something happened. I need – I need you, to talk to you. Can – can we meet? In private." He stuttered nervously through the phone line and I felt my blood run cold at the uneasy in his voice as my eyebrows furrowed together.

"Yeah, of course we can. I'm at Derek's loft. Are you okay to drive? You sound kind of, I don't know, weird, I guess." I told him in a concerned tone as I ran a hand through my messy hair and I heard his shuddering breathing on the other end, the only sound in a tension filled silence.

"I-I-I don't – I don't know. Soph – I'll be there soon." He said hastily before hanging up the phone and I gaped for a moment in shock but I didn't know what to make of the brief conversation.

There was something disturbing about the tone of his voice, something so haunted and lost. I didn't want to think about why, about what had happened to him to cause that kind of emotional pain. After everything that he had been through, everything that he had survived, I didn't want to imagine what it would take it finally break him.

We had all been through so much in the last few years. Scott, Stiles, Lydia and I, especially. We were children thrown into an adult war with no idea, no plan, no concept of survival. And now we weren't kids anymore, we had grown into something else. We were warriors, we were survivors.

I didn't know what exactly was about to happen, but I knew that I was going to walk through whatever was ahead with both my eyes open wide and determination in my stride, because it was someone I loved who needed me.

Rain pelted down outside the window as I stood up from the couch, raindrops streaming down the glass as I quietly strolled over to stand in front of them. My gaze almost immediately fell on the moon shining in the darkened sky and I folded my arms over my stomach protectively as I tried to count the stars in order to keep my mind occupied.

A feeble knock of the loft door drew my attention and I instantly rushed forward with a worried expression on my features. I slid open the door to reveal a soaking wet Stiles standing on the other side, a completely blank expression on his face as he stared down at his feet. It was impossible to tell if the drops streaming down his cheeks were tears or raindrops but his eyes were rimmed with redness and there was water clinging to his eyelashes. His whiskey coloured irises were unfocused as he slowly lofted his head and I had trouble holding in a gasp as I took in devastated, broken look in his eyes. I hadn't seen that glint in his eyes since just after the incident with the Nogitsune, the hard edge that sent a shiver down my spine and a swooping sensation in my stomach. Dread settled inside of me, directly over my heart as he met my gaze and my lips parted in shock at the heartbreaking, soul-shattering pain that was buried inside of him.

Dazed and confused, he stumbled forward a step but nearly toppled over as I reached out to catch him before he fell flat on his face.

"Stiles? Stiles, hey, what happened? Talk to me, honey." I urged him gently in a panic-stricken tone as I carefully help maneuverer him towards the couch, accepting most of his weight as he leaned his body against me. He mumbled something incoherent so softly that evenly my supernatural hearing couldn't decipher and I frowned to myself when I noticed him wince in pain as I helped him seat down on the couch.

The familiar scent of blood wafted through the loft as I narrowed my eyes at him in contemplation and I crouched down in front of him as he stared blankly out the window at the rain without really seeing anything. "Stiles. Stiles, are you hurt?"

Silence followed my question as he moved his lips like he was speaking but no sound came out of his mouth and I slipped my hands into his in an attempt to draw his attention, squeezing gently but he refused to meet my gaze. "Stiles, can you tell me what happened?"

"Donovan." He murmured quietly with a deep frown on his lips and I tried not to let my confusion show on my face as I nodded my head, even though I had no idea what he was talking about because I thought Donovan had disappeared from police custody.

"What about Donovan?" I asked him softly in a compassionate voice as I raised my eyebrows slightly and he snapped his head up to meet my eyes, his dazed expression suddenly hardening as he abruptly stood up from the couch.

I leaned back to avoid being hit as he stalked past me with defiant purpose and I frowned at him in confusion as he walked towards the window. My eyes widened when I caught sight of the dark red blood stain on the back of his shoulder and I immediately stood up from the floor with my stare glued to the back of his shirt. It occurred to me that that was where the scent of blood was coming from and I didn't understand why he didn't tell me or what it had to do with Donovan.

I watched him reach up to thread his fingers through his hair but then wince in pain as he lowered his arms back down to his sides and I could sense the chemo-signals coming off of him in waves. Pain radiated from him and it was almost overwhelming for me to be in his presence but I knew this was where I needed to be.

Stiles took a shuddering breath as his eyes fluttered closed and I folded my arms over my stomach as I tilted my head to the side curiously, "Stiles, what the hell happened tonight?"

"It was bad, Soph."

"'Bad' like it will blow over in a few days 'bad', or 'bad' like life as we know it will never be the same 'bad'?"

"'Bad' like take this secret to the grave 'bad'." He explained solemnly as he turned around to face me with a blank expression and I felt my eyebrows draw together in confusion as a frown puckered at my lips. A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration and he refused to meet my eyes as he slowly made his way back over to sit down on the couch. He slumped down on the cushions with his head in his heads as he sighed heavily and I moved over to kneel down in front of him as he whispered to himself, "What am I even doing here? I shouldn't be dragging you into this."

A sharp pang of anger went through me as I narrowed my eyes at him and I reached to slap the back of his head in reprimand, causing him to yelp in shock as he snapped his head up to glare at me. I shook my head to him sadly in admonishment and tightly grasped his hands with my own as I held his gaze evenly. "Stiles, I love you. There is nothing on Earth I wouldn't do for you. And you know that, that's why you're here. Because you know, no matter what, I'm gonna be on your side, by your side. So, stop being purposefully vague and tell me what the hell happened tonight."

"I was, uh, I was studying in the school library. It was late and I was the only one there. Out in the parking lot, the jeep was playing up – "

"Was it the alternator again? You really need to get that fixed."

"Sophie! Not the point of the story!"

"Right, sorry. Continue."

"Anyway, I was, uh, leaning over the engine, trying to see what the hell was going on, when suddenly someone or something grabbed my shoulder from behind. But it was like really deep and sharp. I managed to get away, head butting him and striking Donovan with a wrench. I ran from the parking lot into the school, back into the library. He followed me, was telling me the story of how he's father was paralysed in a shootout and how he blamed my dad for what happened. From my hiding place among the rows of books, I saw Donovan climb the stairs but seconds later he was on the same level and grabbed me by the throat, pulling me through the bookshelf. We, uh, struggled over towards some scaffolding repairmen are using to do construction on the interior of the library. Turns out Donovan is a Chimera, part Wendigo, because he was going on about how he was going to eat me." he explained in a broken whisper with his hands clasped together in front of his mouth, his eyes unfocused as he stared blankly ahead while his mind was lost in the memories of the past. "There's a pin. There's one little metal pin attached to the scaffolding. He was trying to pull me down. So then I pulled the pin and all these metal braces came down and one of them just went right through him."

My breath caught in my throat as I reached up to cover my mouth with my hand and he snapped his head up with a surprised expression, like he had forgotten that I was there altogether. His lower lip trembled with emotion as he stared at me like he was waiting for me to cringe away from him in disgust. There was a hardboiled acceptance in his eyes, like he thought it was an inevitable course of action and he had given up fighting the obvious conclusion.

Imagination forced me to conjure very vivid images of the events that took place based on his descriptions, scenes playing out in my mind like a horror movie stuck on repeat.

A million thoughts rushed through my mind as my gaze traced every curve of his face, taking in the micro-expressions that crossed his features at an alarming rate and the chemo-signals that saturated my senses as that wafted out of his pores. I took a deep breath as my hand dropped to my side, my features hardening with determination and my priorities became crystal clear as I stood up abruptly from my crouch in front of him.

"Take your shirt off." I demanded in a firm tone of voice as I narrowed my eyes at him and he jerked back in shock with a bewildered expression on his face but I ignored him completely as I walked away without explanation.

"Sophie, what – " he started to ask in confusion as he stood up from the couch while I crossed the living room area and came to a stop in front of the large cabinet to the side of the room.

"I need you take your shirt off, Stiles. There's blood on the back of it. I'm sure Derek left one of his lying around somewhere, if not I stole a couple to sleep in so you can take one of those." I continued calmly in the same hard tone as though he hadn't spoken and I opened the wooden armoire to reveal a metal safe hidden within, a digital keypad lock prominent at the centre. I quickly entered the code before pulling open the heavy door and I heard Stiles walking up behind me, peering over my shoulder at the contents.

"Whoa! Is that a hand grenade?"

"Yes. Don't touch. It's loaded with aconite."

My eyes roamed over the weaponry, flares, anything that would be needed in an emergency until they landed on the small bottle of gasoline and a lighter to the side of the safe. I quickly grabbed them both, along with a tarp, before closing the safe door and relocking it behind me so that no one could get in without entering the passcode.

"What – what do you need those for?" Stiles asked me nervously as he shifted on his feet, wringing his hands in front of him and I turned around to face him with a blank expression as I held my items in my arms.

"The gasoline is an accelerant, the lighter is to light a fire, and the tarp is so we don't get Donovan's DNA anywhere in my car." I explained calmly as I strolled passed him with determination in my stride and he made a surprised squawking sound behind me as he hurried to catch up to me. "Didn't I tell you take that bloodied shirt off? We need to add it to the list of things to burn."

"Wait, wait, wait! Sophie…" he muttered under his breath in a rush as he hurried to get in front of me, using his body to block the sliding loft door so that I couldn't exit unless I wanted to injure him in the process. He placed his hands on my shoulders firmly to keep me in place as he bent his knees to meet my eyes and I waited patiently for him to get to the point as he caught his breath before continuing, "The body's gone, Soph. The body's gone."

I felt my eyes widen in horror as I accidently dropped the items in my arms, causing him to jump back to avoid them landing on his foot and my stomach repeated the dreaded swooping sensation as I shook my head numbly. "No. no, no, no. Where the hell did the body go?"

"I don't know, but I left the library for maybe three minutes and when I came back, his body was gone."

"Oh, my god…That's not good. If it took so little time to move a body, it means they were already at the school. How did they know? Wait, wait! You said that Donovan was a Chimera, right? So, it was probably the masked men, right? They keep showing up wherever the Chimera's are. Like with Tracy and Lucas, right?" I asked out loud in a rush, wringing my hands in front of me as my eyes darted restlessly between the items abandoned on the floor, not necessarily expecting an answer to my questions as I tried to sort out my muddled thoughts.

Apparently, he didn't have an answer because only silence followed my nervous rant, choosing instead to bend down to collect the dropped objects from the floor so that I wouldn't see the distressed frown that crossed his features. I threaded my fingers through my brunette hair as I exhaled slowly, trying to expel all the negative energy from my body as I closed my eyes and counted backwards from ten in my head in an attempt to steady my frazzled nerves.

I heard Stiles' footsteps echo through the loft as he strolled over to the other side of the living area, the sound of the things he was holding hitting the coffee table near the couch. The noise was a reminder that I wasn't alone in the loft, I wasn't the one who had been through hell tonight, I wasn't the one who was injured, I wasn't the one who needed someone to be there for them at the moment.

I dropped my arms down to my sides as I turned around, plastering a mask of determination on my face so that he wouldn't see my unease over the situation. I practically marched into the downstairs bathroom, pretending I didn't notice his confused gaze on me and I grabbed the med-kit from under the sink before returning to the living room area.

Stiles was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands when I sat down on the coffee table in front of him, placing the med-kit down next to me and speaking softly so I didn't startle him, "Let me take a look at your wound."

Neither one of us spoke another word as he carefully pulled his shirt off over his head, wincing slightly at the movement of his shoulder and I had to bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from commenting. With his back turned towards me I could clearly see the deep puncture wounds that seemed to form a circle, the skin was irritated and red along the expanse of his right shoulder. I forced myself not to cringe at the sight as I opened the med-kit and pulled out some gauze and antiseptic to clean the wound.

"Ah!" Stiles exclaimed in pain as I pressed the saturated piece of gauze to the open wound and I knew that it would be stinging as I placed a firm hand on his shoulder to keep still when he tried to squirm. I rolled my eyes at him fondly with a small smirk on my lips when he wasn't looking and continued to sterilise the lesions until no more blood came away on the gauze.

I placed my open palm over the wound, sensing the pain radiating from his body and I watched the veins on my hand turn black and prominent as the pain seemed to travel up my arm. My face scrunched up as all of my muscles tensed with agony while he sighed in relief at the same time and the pure relief on his expression made all of the pain worth it in the end.

"Alright, you'll be okay in a few days." I told him quietly as I stuck a bandage of the wound so that it didn't get infected and he nodded solemnly without a word as I stood up from the coffee table. I collected the trash in my hand, closed the med-kit and grabbed his bloodied shirt from the floor before respectively putting them in the rubbish bin, placing the med-kit back in the bathroom and throwing the shirt in the bathtub so I could burn it later on.

I went to the bedroom to grab one Derek's shirts, one of the articles of clothing I had stolen during our relationship, and tossed it towards Stiles when I re-entered the living room area. "That might be a little big. Derek's, well, Derek's more muscular than you."

"Thanks." He responded in mixture of sarcasm and gratitude as he carefully slipped it over his head, not wincing for the first time with the movement for the first time that night.

The silence between us with awkward as I looked around the room unsurely, shifting my weight on my feet as I wrung my hands in front of me and he played with his fingers nervously as he avoided my eyes. It was like we didn't know how to deal with the new information, this new shared secret between us and I wanted to ask him why he'd chosen me to confide in but I already knew the answer to my own question. I didn't mind that he was burdening me with something so heavy, because sometimes just the act of sharing a painful secret can relieve some of the pain and I would gladly take all of it if it meant he was free.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" he asked quietly in a saddened voice as he continued to stare at his hands and I noticed them shaking uncontrollably when I snapped my head over to look at him in surprise.

"What am I supposed to say, Stiles? It was self-defence? It was self-defence. I would've done the same? I would've done much worse. Tell me what you need right now. Forgiveness? Reassurance? Someone to sit in silence with you? Tell me what to do, what to say, and I'll do it." I informed him earnestly as I moved over to kneel down in front of him, taking both of his hands in mine and tilting my head to meet his eyes as they filled with silent tears. I tried offer him a shaky smile as I lifted his hands to my lips and pressed a kiss to the back of his knuckles before lowering them as I spoke truthfully, "I don't think I've ever told you this, but you're one of the bravest people I've ever met. I know you don't believe me. You don't believe you're a hero, but you are. Heroes aren't fearless, Stiles. Heroes are brave, and bravery requires fear, and fear is born of loving something or someone enough that losing them would break you. That's how you feel about your friends, your family, the pack, and even the town. You'd do anything to protect them, even if you're afraid. That makes you a hero. At least to me."

Tears were streaming down both of our cheeks now, totally unrestrained as we grasped each other's hands for comfort and strength, and I forced a small smile as I sniffled delicately before trying to lighten the mood, "Stiles, I was about to help you move a dead body and destroy evidence, if that doesn't say 'I'm on your side', I don't know what does."

"I didn't – Uh, god, I didn't mean to – "he stuttered brokenly as he shook his head in defeat with a distraught expression on his tear streaked face and I nodded in understanding as I clamped my lips shut to stop the sob that threatened to escape. His shoulders started to shake with inconsolable sobs as he bent his head forward in despair until his forehead hit my shoulder and I tried not to cry along with him as I wrapped my arms around him tightly, holding him together with nothing but my own willpower.

I mumbled incoherent words to him as I ran a soothing hand up and down his spine with one hand and threaded the other through his short brunette hair in an attempt to console him. Even though I knew that he would never be the same after the events of the night.