If You're Going Through Hell
A/N: Hi all again! Sooo, this chapter was a little more challenging to write than the others, and I'm still not entirely settled with it. Let me know what you think.
Chapter 6: Brothers Reunited
Demon-Stiles pressed a few things, placing his palms in different spots, experimenting with the controls as he tried to figure out how to work the thing. "Oh no!" he gasped suddenly, "this is horrible!"
"What? What's horrible?" Derek called up, glancing between the balcony above and Scott writhing in anguish before him. Stiles grimaced, a strange expression for a demon to wear, as he continued to poke and prod the control panel.
"I…don't really know how to describe it," he said, losing focus and simply watching Scott on the ground below. He paused for a moment before speaking again, snapping back to his senses and returning his attention to the controls. "But I think I can show you."
"Show…" Derek began, but was cut off by a scream.
"It's all your fault, Scott!" Allison screamed at the young man at her feet. The entire room had suddenly turned foggy, and out of the fog Allison Argent had emerged, shouting obscenities at Scott. "You destroyed my family! Everything was fine until you showed up!"
"She's right!" Christ Argent had now stepped out of the fog as well, taking a stand next to his daughter, a look of pure rage on his face, worse than any Derek had seen the man wear in life. "You…you killed my sister. You conspired against her, making everyone believe she was responsible for the Hale fire, when she was innocent all along." His tone of voice was much softer, but far more sinister. "And then, if that wasn't enough, you took my wife from me, you and Derek killed her in cold blood. All Victoria wanted was to protect her family, and you destroyed her. And my father. Gerard was driven mad by you and your pack. Everything he did, all that senseless violence, it's all on you, Scott!"
"Stiles! What's going on?" Derek called out as the fog versions of Chris and Allison continued to rattle off Scott's supposed sins.
"I don't know," Demon-Stiles yelled back, "this control panel is powered by demonic magic. I can work it, but I have no idea what half this stuff is. So far, all I do know is that, whatever it is doing, this" he gestured with his hands towards the fog, "is what Scott is seeing and hearing."
"Well, figure out how to make it stop!" Derek cried out over the renewed sobs of his alpha. Whatever Stiles had done had also made Scott's voice much clearer, and much more painful to listen to.
"I know, I know!" he said, still clawing at his eyes and ears in desperation, "I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry! I didn't mean to do it, I swear! It's all my fault, all my fault. What have I done?"
"You want to know what you have done?" a see-through version of Malia stepped forward to replace the Argents. "You destroyed my life, that's what you've done! I was fine as a coyote, happy! I lived half of my life in those woods. It was simple, I could forget about what happened to my family, I could forget the Desert Wolf killing my adoptive mother and sister. I was at peace. And then you come along and force me to change back to human. And for what? So you could forget all about me afterwards while they locked me up in Eichen House? Do you have any idea what they did to me in there? Or how hard it was to try to adjust to life as a human? Or how hard school was when I was six grades behind? And then when you finally remembered that I existed, all I was to you was a way for you to be stronger. I didn't mean anything to you. I was just a soldier to fight your battles or a shield to protect you from harm. I should have mattered more to you than that! You did this to me!"
"I'm sorry!" Scott bolted upright, staring unseeing at ghost-Malia through what was left of his mangled, blood-covered eyes. "What can I do to make it up to you?"
"Oh, you want to make it up to us?" Malia stepped aside as a vision of Liam took her place. "How do you expect to do that Scott? You think you can just say some magic words and it'll all be better? You think you can just say you're sorry and we will forgive you? Well, it's not gonna work! You ruined my life too. After everything at Devenford, all I wanted was a fresh start, a place where I could belong, maybe even be liked. But you couldn't handle that. The big, alpha werewolf got jealous of the boy who was better at lacrosse than him. You attacked me and sent me to the hospital, putting me in danger. You make such a big deal about how 'I had to bite you to save your life,' but it's your fault I needed saving in the first place! And then what do you do? You kidnap me and tie me up in your bedroom! And that was just the beginning. You were supposed to be my alpha, but you ignored me all the time, you didn't want to do anything to help me learn to be a proper werewolf, you didn't care about me or my friends. There's no way you can take it all back or make it up to me! You destroyed me! I hate you, Scott!"
"No! No, no, no, no. Please!" Scott's voiced came out strangled, like he was choking on each word. It broke Derek's heart to hear the pain in them.
"Stiles…hurry!" Derek said, struggling to speak himself.
"I'm trying Derek, trust me I've never tried so hard in my life," Stiles replied. And indeed, when Derek looked up he could see the demon moving in a whirlwind, poking, pushing, slapping every inch of the panel in front of him. His wings unfurled haphazardly, threatening to hit the wall or cause him to take off in mid-air at any moment.
"Please, he says! You're going to beg? How pathetic," Liam and Malia had disappeared, Jackson and Isaac materializing in their place. Jackson's voice was laced with more venom and malice than should be humanly possible as he spoke, "Absolutely pathetic McCall. You're just a nobody; a pathetic, winy loser. All you do is hurt people. That's why your dad left you. That's why you have no friends. Well," he scoffed, "no friends who aren't even more pathetic than you are."
"Wait!" Demon-Stiles called out, gasping at the scene going on below him, "I remember this! I wonder…"
"What do you mean you remember this?" Derek tore his gaze from the ghostly figures in front of him to watch the demon above instead. "Stiles!" But the demon didn't answer, furiously pounding away at the controls with newfound inspiration.
"It's your fault, Scott," Jackson continued speaking, but his voice changed, deeper, as if he was now several years older. "I know what everyone thinks of me now, because I became a kanima, but you and I both know it's your fault that it happened. You thought you were too good for me, too perfect to be friends with me or help me find a family I could belong in. That's all I wanted, I wanted to be like you and Derek, to be a part of your pack. And instead you rejected me. Everything the kanima did, it happened because of you!"
"I know! I know!" Scott sobbed, turning away from the ghostly images in front of him.
"I trusted you, Scott," Jackson's voice was replaced by Isaac's. He was quiet, the picture of brokenness and hurt standing before Scott. To Derek, it was worse than all the screaming. "I thought you would be different. I just…I tried so hard. But I guess I'm not good enough either. Everyone leaves me. My mom, my brother, my dad, Derek. I wanted you to be different."
"No, Isaac! I'm sorry. Please, give me another chance!"
"There are no second chances Scott!" Jackson and Isaac dissolved and in their place stood a ghost version of Derek. The real Derek did a double take, terrified of what this version of him was going to say. "The real world doesn't work that way. In the real world, you either live or you die. And the hunters aren't going to wait for you to decide which one you want. So stop acting like a stupid, selfish child and grow up!"
"I will, I will!" Scott cried out. Derek looked on in horror as the realization hit him. He remembered this conversation, it had happened shortly after Scott had become an alpha.
"You don't deserve this gift you've been given," ghost-Derek continued, breaking real Derek's concentration.
"Stiles, get this to stop. Now!" Derek really did not want to relive the next part of this conversation, especially having to see the alpha in question breaking down in front of him so completely.
"I can't!" Stiles replied, desperation evident by his tone. "But I think I figured out how to alter it!"
"Then do it for God's sake!" Derek shouted, trying to drown out the other Derek. Thankfully, the scene abruptly changed right at that moment, ghost-Derek transforming into ghost-Stiles.
"Crap!" Demon-Stiles said, looking down at the scene below. "No, no, no, no, no, no. We can't go down this path."
"You're a terrible friend Scott. I mean…I just…I can't. My mom just died and you come here complaining about your mom and dad arguing? You know what, at least you still have both of your parents. I hate you! I never want to see you again!" this Stiles-mist said, sounding much younger than the Stiles Derek had known.
"Stiles, I'm sorry!"
"Oh, Scotty. No, you're not. But, guess what? You will be!" Stiles' voice sounded much older, and more sinister, this time. "You know, the Stiles that was your friend is long gone." Derek groaned as he realized that Void Stiles was now the one speaking. "Gone forever. All because of you, your little sacrifice to save your friends. How noble. How stupid! Although, I suppose I should be thanking you. Without you, Scott, I never would have been able to come out and play!"
"Stiles!" both Derek and Scott yelled in unison, though it was directed at different versions of the boy in question.
"Scott?" ghost-Stiles disappeared, replaced instead by the sound of heavy breathing. It was Stiles' voice, but he sounded completely terrified and in pain.
"Hey, yeah, I'm here. Are you ok? Can you here me?" Scott was frantically turning in every direction, searching for the source of the voice.
"Scott, I don't know where I am, I don't know how I got here. I think I was sleepwalking," Stiles sounded desperate, a sound that tortured Derek's very soul.
"Ok, uh, um, can you see anything? Just tell me what you see," Scott called out to the mist.
"It's dark, it's hard to see. Hold on, there's something wrong with my…" Stiles' voice cut off suddenly. Scott got up off the ground suddenly, acting like he was holding something in his hand before bringing it back up to his ear.
"Hey!" they heard Stiles' voice, much calmer and happier this time.
"Stiles!" Scott interjected before being cut off.
"This is Stiles and you missed me. Hey! This is Stiles and you missed me. Hey! This is Stiles and you missed me." The words repeated over and over as Scott began clawing at his hair and face, slowly withdrawing into a panic.
"You know Scott, I don't think you do miss Stiles," ghost-Stiles reappeared, standing just behind Scott. "He was just holding you back anyway. You're better off without him. I mean really, a human in a wolf pack? It was suicide from the very beginning. You know, I bet Stiles is the reason your pack fell apart. Always having to look after him, always having to protect him, letting him weaken you."
"No! No! No!" Scott screamed at the air in front of him.
"Scott! Hang on buddy, don't listen to him," Demon-Stiles called down, frantically slamming his fist into the control panel in an effort to change what was happening.
"Stiles, you have to do something. Come on, you're better than this!" Derek yelled up to the demon above him.
"I don't know what to do," Demon-Stiles called back as Void-Stiles continued taunting Scott. "I've figured out that these visions are actually memories, Scott's memories. Although I'm also sure some of them only happened in his head, or his dreams, or something. But I don't know how to get it to stop."
"Then can you at least show him some happy memories?" Derek asked.
The demon stared at him dumbstruck for just a moment. "Oh my god, I could kiss you right now Derek Hale," Demon-Stiles said gleefully, jumping up and down as he pushed a few more buttons on the panel. Derek blushed at the words, but it thankfully went unnoticed as the scene surrounding them changed once again. The fog became a lighter color, and the only sound that remained for a moment came from Scott's laborious breathing. Then Allison reappeared, pressed up against Scott.
"What are you doing?" she whispered, glancing around nervously.
"Nothing," Scott replied, just as nervous.
"Part of you is doing something," Allison said, briefly glancing downwards.
"Oh…sorry," nervousness turned to embarrassment as Scott figured out what she meant.
"Stop!"
"I…kind of don't have control over that."
"Stiles! What are we watching?" Derek cringed as the scene continued to play out before him. The demon was shaking in silent laughter above him.
"I have…no idea…" he said, trying to catch his breath, "it was…the first thing I…could find that looked happy."
"Well, find something else. I don't want to know where this is going!"
"Aww, you're no fun," the demon replied, nevertheless returning to playing with the control panel. The fog changed again, this time becoming much darker as the sound of rain echoed around the room. Kira ran through the fog towards Scott, grinning madly.
"Did you have fun in New York?" he asked, as they reached one another.
"Not really," she replied, shaking her head.
"Good!" Scott said, pressing his lips to hers. The two locked together, exploring each other's mouths with their tongues and bodies with their arms.
"Argh, Stiles! How much more of this are we going to have to watch?" Derek called out.
"Ok, ok. So, here's my guess. The demons were using Scott's mind against him, torturing him with all the painful memories from his past. If we can get him to remember that he has these memories, and people that care about him, that should break the hold this weird machine has on him."
"That's fine, but can you use something that doesn't involve Scott's love life?"
"Sure, but it won't be as entertaining," Demon-Stiles grinned mischievously as he fiddled with the controls some more.
"Are you enjoying this?" Derek asked, growling under his breath.
"Maybe a little," Demon-Stiles replied. "What? I've never been inside Scott's head before. Now we're even."
Derek was about to protest some more when the fog shifted and Liam stepped forward.
"How about I take you home," Scott said to the young beta.
"I'm not like you," Liam replied.
"Not yet."
"I don't mean I'm not strong, or I'm never going to learn how to be in control. I mean everything else. You and your friends try to protect everyone. Have you been doing this the whole time? I mean, how are you all still alive?" Liam looked close to tears, and Derek could hear the desperation in his voice.
"Not all of us are," Scott replied, a faraway look in his eyes. Suddenly, the room around them began to shake, and the fog momentarily lifted.
"What's going on?" Scott cried out.
"Stiles?" Derek called, stepping forward to steady the alpha.
"That's it!" Stiles replied, picking himself up off of the floor of the balcony. "We just need to get Scott to feel the connections he has to the pack, and that'll bring him out of this!"
"Good. Keep going!" Derek said, enthusiasm beginning to mirror the demon's. The fog shifted again, becoming much clearer than before, as though it was starting to fade away.
"Get to class Liam," Scott said as the school bell rang. Liam exchanged glances with Scott and a newly materialized Derek before walking away.
"What are you smiling about?" Scott asked, seeing the change in ghost-Derek's expression.
"You're going to be good at this," he replied. The room began to shake again, though not as much as it had the first time.
"Use yourself!" Derek called out, realization dawning on him.
"What?!" Demon-Stiles replied, face a mixture of confusion and horror.
"You said Scott needs to feel his connections to his pack. There's no one he's more connected to than you. Use the memories he has of you."
"Oh," Stiles said. The demon went absolutely still for a moment, lost in thought. His breathing hitched slightly as he reached out to the control panel once again. The scene around them changed once more, this time another ghost-Stiles appearing, seated on the bench of an MRI machine in the hospital.
"You know what they're looking for, right?" this Stiles asked, looking at Scott, who seemed to be struggling to return the eye contact. "It's called frontotemporal dementia…Areas of your brain start to shrink. It's what my mother had. It's the only form of dementia…than can hit teenagers…and there's no cure."
Scott struggled internally for a moment, a mixture of emotions pouring off of him before he came to a resolution. "Stiles, if you have it, we'll do something." He finally looked up, meeting his friend's eyes for the first time, "I'll do something."
A silent exchange took place between the two friends before they simultaneously embraced one another, tears beginning to flow from them both.
"This is what you were talking about earlier, isn't it?" Derek asked the other Stiles in the room quietly, feeling the heaviness in the air coming from both Scott's and Stiles' emotions.
"Yes," Demon-Stiles said quietly, unable to tear his eyes away from the memory in front of him. As the demon shed a tear, the entire room shook once again, much more violently than before. All three of them were knocked to the ground.
"Stiles?" Scott called out, groping around as he tried to get back up, "what's going on? Where am I?"
"Scott? Scott!" Demon-Stiles shouted back. The moment of clarity was lost though, and Scott had gone back to the memory, picking up where it left off before the earthquake.
"You almost got it!" Derek exclaimed. "Quick, use something else. What's the strongest memory you have of being connected to Scott?"
The demon thought for a moment before true horror crossed his face. "No, I can't relive that."
"Come on Stiles! We almost have him back. Please!" Derek pleaded with him, confused by the reaction when it should be obvious what needs to be done.
"You're not going to like it either," Stiles replied quietly.
"It doesn't matter, we just need it to work." Derek said, trying to bring out as much confidence and authority as he could muster.
"Fine," the demon said, placing a palm on the control panel with a look of resignation, "don't say I didn't warn you."
The fog shifted, clearing up in order to give way to another scene. Stiles rematerialized, along with Lydia and Allison. The first thing that hit Derek was the smell of complete depression pouring off of Scott. It nearly made him choke.
"Scott," Allison said, stepping in front of the others and leading them around to face him. Stiles, Lydia, and Allison cautiously gathered around Scott, who stood silently, looking at the ground. "Scott?" she said again, uncertainly. Some form of liquid began to drip off of Scott. Derek sniffed the air, confirming that it was gasoline.
"There's no hope," Scott said, looking at the ghost images in front of him. His voice once again struck to Derek's core in pain.
"What do you mean, Scott? There's always hope," Allison replied.
"Not for me…not for Derek…" Scott continued staring into the distance.
"Derek wasn't your fault, you know Derek wasn't your fault," Allison said, trying, and failing, to stay calm.
"Every time I try to fight back, it just gets worse. People keep getting hurt. People keep getting killed…"
"Scott," ghost-Stiles interjected, stepping forward, "listen to me ok, this isn't you. Alright, this is someone inside your head telling you to do this. Ok?"
"What if it isn't?" Scott said forlornly, "What if it is just me? What if doing this is actually the best thing that I could do for everyone else?" Scott began to shake and tears, both in ghost form and real, fell, mixing with the gas. "It all started that night, the night I got bitten. You remember the way it was before that? You and me?" Scott made eye contact with the ghost-Stiles in front of him as he continued, "We were…we were nothing. We weren't popular, we weren't good at lacrosse…we weren't important. We were no one. Maybe I should just be no one again…no one at all!"
"Scott just listen to me, ok" Stiles began, a note of resolution in his voice as he continued to step forward. "You're not no one. Ok? You're someone." Tears began to fall from ghost-Stiles as well. "Scott, you're my best friend. Ok, and I need you. Sc…Scott you're my brother. Alright, so…if we're gonna do this then…you're just going to have to take me with you."
Scott let out a few ragged breaths. Everything went still and silent for a second. Then, suddenly, an explosion of light and sound hit them, the room dissolving into chaos. The entire cave shook violently, throwing the wolves to the ground as the fog disappeared. Derek looked up in time to see the balcony above them crumble to pieces, giant sections of it crashing to the ground. Demon-Stiles had taken flight to avoid falling, but was hit by debris from the ceiling as it too began to crumble.
"Stiles!" Scott cried out from Derek's left.
"Scott?" Derek asked, tentatively, crawling over to his alpha while trying to dodge the rocks cascading around him.
"Derek!" Scott called back, "Derek, what's happening? Where are…ah!" Scott screamed in pain as a small boulder slammed onto his leg.
"Scott, hold on!" Derek tried desperately to reach him, but the earthquake kept him too unbalanced and the falling rocks blocked his path. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. The room went still and silent once more, save for the sounds of a few final rocks sliding and the ragged breathing of the wolves. Derek jumped to his feet instantly, dashing over to his alpha and shoving the boulder off of his leg. "Scott, are you still with me?" Derek asked, looking down at his fallen friend. Scott was in terrible shape, far worse than Derek had realized when he had stood at a distance in the dark and fog. Very little of the man's face remained intact, Scott himself having clawed and ripped his way through most of it in what Derek could only guess had been fruitless attempts at stopping the voices and scenes around him. His leg was badly broken and crushed from the boulder, and several other less severe injuries dotted his torso and arms. He still managed a small smile as he looked, unseeing, up at Derek.
"Yeah, I'm here," he said softly, and relief flooded Derek as he relaxed, at least until Scott spoke again.
"Derek, where's Stiles?" Scott asked, beginning to scent the air slightly in search of his friend. Derek's anxiety went into overdrive once more as he began turning in every direction to find the young man in question.
"I'm over here," Stiles called out from a distance, his human voice having replaced the demon's voice. Derek turned to his right and saw a small, pasty arm waving at him from the ground. Derek rushed over and found Stiles also trapped beneath a pile of rubble. "I kind of got knocked down. Do you mind helping me get unstuck?" Derek shook his head slightly and began shifting the rocks away to free his friend. As he worked, Scott half-hobbled, half-crawled over to where they were.
"Um, you guys, where are we?" Scott asked, still sniffing the air.
"Well, Scotty, it's a long story," Stiles said laboriously from the ground, "but the short answer is that we are in Hell!"
Derek groaned audibly, "Stiles, are you going to do that every time we find someone?"
"Probably," Stiles said with a half shrug.
"I'm confused," Scott added, sitting on another pile of rocks and turning from Derek to Stiles.
Stiles sighed before continuing on. "We're in the Underworld, Hades, Purgatory, Limbo, the world of the dead, the place where everyone comes when they pass on. Hell. Or at least the first stage of it. Don't worry, it just gets more confusing the more you know," he said happily.
"So…we're dead?" Scott asked, uncertainty etching his features.
"Yeah, Scott, we are," Stiles said quietly, "well, you and I are. Derek is just visiting. I'll tell you about that later," he added, seeing the confusion coming from Scott, "do you not remember dying?"
"I don't know," Scott said, "everything is really hazy at the moment. I feel like someone ripped everything out of my head and put it back in the wrong order."
"I think that's kind of what actually happened," Stiles said, looking up at his friend in contemplation. Scott ignored him and continued on.
"I…remember the hunters chasing us. And the pack…we lost so many people," he said sadly, "and I remember…I remember you…Stiles, you…you…" His voice hitched, as though he was trying to hold back sobs.
"I died," Stiles said simply, finishing the sentence for him. Scott broke down at the words, cradling his head in his hands as the tears began to fall freely. Derek shoved the remaining rocks off of Stiles and then sat down on the ground, unsure if he should say or do anything. Stiles' body was a mess, but now that he was free he got up to move over and sit next to Scott, wrapping his friend in a tight embrace and drawing the mangled wolf in against his chest.
"It's ok Scott," he said soothingly, voice light and calm. "Shh, I'm here now, everything is going to be alright."
"No, it's not," Scott said brokenly, "you're dead, and it's all my fault."
Stiles groaned before replying. "It's not your fault Scott. And it's not your fault either, Derek, in case you start getting those thoughts again," he glared daggers at the older wolf briefly before turning his attention back to the one he was holding. "The only people to blame for me dying are the hunters in the woods who attacked us and Gerard and Monroe for putting them up to it. Nobody else. Scott, you can't blame yourself for what they did. Scott…"
Scott managed to stifle his tears, pulling himself back together as he sat upright again to face Stiles directly. "Stiles, it was my job to protect you."
"And you did, Scott. You did beautifully. You kept me going through everything that happened, you kept me alive during everything else that happened to us. You stopped me from killing myself…twice. You saved me from the Nogitsune and the Ghost Riders. Scott, you did everything you could. And not just for me either. You brought our pack together, kept us alive through impossible situations. Scott, no one could ask for anything more than what you did. You gotta let all this blaming yourself and self-doubt go."
"But Stiles," Scott began, but he was quickly cut off as Stiles placed a hand over his mouth.
"Scott, I meant what I said way back there. You're not a nobody. Scott, you are my best friend. You are my brother. I'm proud of you. I'm proud of what you've done. Scott, I love you. Please, let everything else go." Stiles had moved his hand from Scott's mouth to his shoulder, bringing the other one up as well to draw them back into a tight embrace.
"Ok," Scott whispered into Stiles' shoulder. They collapsed into one another, the scent of relief and happiness overpowering the depression permeating the air. After a few minutes they pulled apart, and the first thing Derek noticed was that their physical injuries seemed to have healed substantially during their conversation. Scott had eyes again, and now that his sight had returned he began to look around what was left of the room they were in. "So, um, where are we again?"
At that moment a sudden screeching noise echoed through the room, breaking their brief moment of reprieve. Derek was on the move instantly, jumping to his feet to rush over and help the other two up as well. "We'll explain on the way," he said, trying to hide the worry in his voice as he positioned himself between his two injured friends so they could each lean on him as they walked.
"Once we get somewhere safe," Stiles added, moving slowly beside him, "preferably without being seen."
"Seen by who?" Scott asked.
"That," Stiles replied, pointing at a demon clawing through the debris in front of them.
"Oh."