There was a voice far away trying to make its way through the darkness.
"Damn it, Stiles. Look at me!"
There was fire on the other side, he could feel the edges of it licking against his mind. Out of all the things he'd endured he hated being burned the most. Melted flesh did not recover quickly, left smoldering nerves in its wake. Fire was one of the few things he was still afraid of. Allison had made sure of that. When he had become desensitized and stopped reacting to her games she found a new way to make him squeal for her.
He refused to open his eyes, couldn't think, didn't want to think. The fire was inside him now. It was coming through the veil of darkness, spreading from his belly through his blood incinerating everything in its path. He tried to retreat into the depths of his own mind. Tried to find all the little pieces he had managed to hide away from everyone else, the memories he had clung to because they were the only things that no one could take from him. It didn't help. Nothing helped. The pain didn't stop. He didn't think it was ever going to stop. It scorched away his self-control, left behind ashes where a combination of willpower and hopelessness used to be.
He couldn't keep it in anymore. He howled out his pain, a wordless, thoughtless, primal expression of agony. He had thought he wanted to die, thought that it would be an end to suffering. He had been so stupid. He was never going to be without suffering. It was inside him now, turning him inside out one nerve at a time.
"Oh my god, Derek. Make it stop! Derek make it stop making that noise!"
The female hunter's voice came through the wall of darkness and flame. She said Derek. Was he there? Was he the one who called out his name, asking that he open his eyes? Stiles. It had been so long since he thought of himself in that context. He tried not to think of himself by the nicknames his pack used for him, but he also tried not to think of himself as Stiles, as that child from the past who had lost so much, endured so much.
"Laura," the other voice from behind the wall said, "get all of our stuff. We need to get out of here before the police come. If the gunshots didn't drawn attention this will. Get your shit together. For all we know his pack can hear him too."
Stiles choked, swallowed up the pain, and forced it down into his gut. If his pack had heard that they would be coming as soon as they finished laughing about it. He clawed his way out of the darkness, but the fire came with him, got more intense as he struggled back to full consciousness. He bit his lips hard enough that he felt blood start dripping down his chin. The pain didn't register. The fire moved up into his ribs as if trying to mock the attempt at distraction.
Stiles opened his eyes. Derek was leaning over him, tearing the shirt Stiles was wearing so that he could see the wound. The werewolf looked down at his own stomach. Each twisting black tendril he could see corresponded to a burrowing line of fire inside him.
"Stiles, you're going to be ok," Derek said.
The werewolf could hear the frantic heartbeat of the hunter, but he didn't know if it was a lie or not, couldn't focus on anything but the sound, the thumping of it, pumping blood through human veins. His mind latched on and wouldn't let go of the beat.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"I know how to fix you, but you have to just endure it for a while longer okay?"
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Stiles looked at Derek and nodded. He was good at enduring pain. Sometimes he felt like he was made for that sole purpose. He didn't make a noise as Derek picked him up and carried him outside.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Laura pulled open the doors to the back of the van they were using and tossed two duffel bags into it. She didn't say anything as she walked past Derek and headed back to gather his stuff as well.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Derek gently laid Stiles down in the back, cushioning his head with one of the bags Laura had thrown inside. Stiles tried to focus on anything but the debilitating darkness that was creeping in at the edges of his vision. It was coming back for him. He'd escaped it, but it was coming back. It was so close.
Thump. Thump. Thump.\
He noticed that the van was missing all its back seats. He felt a gentle pat on his cheek, something about the gesture was like pouring water over the flames in his stomach. He looked back at Derek, focused on his face.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Stay with me, Stiles. Hang on just a little longer," Derek said.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Derek's voice was soothing, his heartbeat the focus Stiles used to keep the pain from pulling him under. He watched in detached interest as Derek pulled a clip of ammunition out of a hidden panel in the wall of the van.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"This is going to hurt."
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Stiles would have laughed if he could remember how to make his throat form the noise. It couldn't possibly be any worse than what he was going through, what he had been through. Derek pulled apart one of the bullets that had been in the clip, poured the powder and whatever else was inside of it into his hand.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Derek pulled a lighter out of his pocket and used it to ignite the substance, hissed out in pain as his flesh burned along with the powder. The stench of burning flesh filled Stiles's nostrils, making him nauseous. It didn't reek as bad as when it had been his lips and tongue being scorched but knowing that it was Derek's skin made it somehow worse.
Thump. Thump.
Stiles had thought the pain couldn't get any more intense. The skip in Derek's heartbeat made Stiles anxious even as he realized how wrong he was. Derek's hand pressed against the wound. He must have thought he could burn out the fire in Stiles with more fire.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
He opened his mouth, he was going to say goodbye. He decided in that moment to speak for the first time in years as he felt the darkness closing on him. All that came out was a disgusting black fluid. He was going to try again but he was too tired. As he drifted off he was vaguely aware that the fire in his body had gone out, there was nothing but the steady beating of Derek's heart.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"You're going to be fine," Derek said.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
For the first time in a long time Stiles thought that it might be true. The darkness came back, but this time there was no fire with it, just a steady beating drum lulling him to sleep.
Thump. Thump. Thump.