Stiles landed softly on the grass, his body immediately tensing and his ears straining as he waited to see if Givens had seen or heard him. He crouched in the shadows against the house, his eyes scanning the area around him, trying to decide what he should do next. His eyes landed on his jeep which sat in front of the trees on the other end of the lawn, about three-hundred feet away from him.

Stiles glanced around the yard again, his heart beating hard and fast in his chest. This was it. There was nothing that could hide him between here and the jeep; when he ran, he'd be running completely out in the open. If Givens was anywhere in the vicinity she would certainly see him, and that'd be it.

That would be it.

Stiles took a deep breath and rose to his feet.

Now.

He ran faster than he'd ever ran in his life, running the three-hundred feet to the tree-line as fast as his legs would carry him. Every second he was expecting to get stopped, for something to hit him, for Givens' voice to suddenly scream into the air. But it didn't. He made it to the jeep and dove behind it, catching his breath for only a moment before he got back up and took off again, running into the trees. He had no clue where the forest ended or where Beacon Hills lay, or if he was even going in the right direction; all he knew was that he had to run and run as fast as he cou –

Oomph.

Something hard crashed into Stiles' chest and he was knocked off his feet, falling to the ground on his backside. He snapped his head up, his eyes wide as his heart hammered in his chest, expecting to see Givens looking down at him, but instead he saw…

Scott.

Stiles could only gape, his mouth hanging open as he tried to find words to speak. "Scott?!"

"Stiles!" Before Stiles knew what was happening, Scott was getting on his knees beside him, grabbing Stiles' arms and pulling him into a massive hug. They stayed like that for a few moments, before Scott finally let go, pulling back to get a proper look at his friend. Stiles could only stare at Scott incredulously.

"Scott, what – what the hell are you doing here?!"

"I came to find you!"

Stiles' eyes widened in disbelief, his hands gripping Scott's forearms, trying to prove to himself that what he was seeing was real. "How – how did you figure it out?"

Scott took a deep breath, trying to get his breathing under control as his heart began to calm down at having finally found Stiles and seeing him in one piece. "I went to your dad's place, and he –"

"Is he okay?" Stiles asked quickly, a new wave of fear suddenly rolling off him. "Is he hurt?! Is he –"

"Dude, Stiles – calm down; he's okay. At least, he's physically okay. When I talked to him he… he didn't know who you were. He didn't even remember he had a son."

Stiles blinked. "He doesn't remember me?"

Scott shook his head. "That's when I knew that something was wrong. I mean, you'd been acting weird all week, but –."

"But he's okay, right?" Stiles interrupted. Scott nodded.

"Yeah, man – he's fine."

Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep breath of relief. For the first time Scott caught the faint smell of blood and he frowned, realising that it was coming from Stiles. His eyes scanned his friend up and down, searching for the source. "Stiles, are you bleeding?" he asked.

Stiles' eyes snapped open and he looked behind him once, before he rose to his feet and grabbed Scott's arm, pulling him back into the woods. "We have to get out of here," he said, his words tumbling out of his mouth in a rush. "We have to get out of here now."

Scott looked at him, confused. "Stiles, what are you talking about? Stiles I know you're in trouble, but I don't know anything else – you have to tell me what's going on!"

"I can't tell you," Stiles said.

"Why not?!"

"Because I can't!"

"Why?!"

Stiles came to an abrupt halt and spun around, nearly crashing into Scott. "Because Givens placed a spell over me! She made it so that no matter how hard I try, I can't tell you or anyone else about what's going on! Why do you think I've been acting so weird all week, huh?! Because every time I'd try to start a conversation, every time I'd try to tell you guys what was happening, give you a hint about what was going on, the spell would literally shut my throat so I couldn't speak!"

Scott's eyes widened in shock. "Givens placed a spell over you? So what, she's a – a witch?"

"Yes! She's a witch, Scott! She's a witch who pretended to be a teacher so she could kidnap me and string me up in her attic and torture me for fun! Every time I'd try to run away she'd use her magic and force me to stay; and she hates you too, for whatever reason, I don't know, but Scott – we need to get out of here. She's somewhere on the property and I don't know where –." Stiles broke off when his eyes caught something move behind Scott, out by the house. He grabbed Scott and they both fell to the ground, ducking behind the jeep.

They watched in silence as Givens lazily strode across the lawn and towards the house. She started heading towards the door when suddenly she stopped, pausing for a moment, before slowly making her way to where the rope of sheets lay drifting in the wind. Stiles swore under his breath. He could feel Scott tense beside him and he immediately gripped his arm tighter, turning to hiss at him. "You can't fight her, Scott! We just need to get out of here as fast as we can…." When Stiles looked back up his heart jumped in his throat and he froze.

Givens was gone.

He whipped his head around, searching for the witch, but she was no where to be found. "Where'd she go?" he whispered. "Did you see where she went?"

"I – I don't know," Scott replied, looking frantically around. "I turned away for a second and she was gone."

Which meant they needed to leave, now.

Without a word, Stiles pulled Scott away from the jeep and they both started to run into the trees. The leaves and branches began to lift and turn in a whirl of wind and a second later Givens appeared before them, a wicked smile on her face. "Hello boys," she said. Stiles and Scott immediately started backing up, grabbing onto each other's arms as they stumbled over their feet. Givens started walking towards them. "It's nice to see you again, Mr. McCall," she said to Scott. "I was wondering whether you would show up. I've been having a simply delightful time with your friend Mr. Stilinski. We've had many wonderful nights together…."

Scott glared at the woman, his teeth elongating as his eyes began to grow feral, his fingernails slowly sharpening into claws as anger surged through his veins.

"Oh, Mr. McCall – there's no need for violence. You're friend here simply left his room before his punishment was finished; if you let him come back with me, I'll let you leave – unharmed."

"Fuck you."

Givens clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "My, my – such language from such a beautiful mouth. Don't worry; I have more than enough room for you to join him. You'll get a new roommate, Stiles," she said, winking at him with a smile. "Won't that be fun?"

Before Stiles could say a word Scott leapt forward, swinging his claws towards Givens. The moment his fingers made contact with her body, Givens disappeared in a whirl of smoke. Scott stumbled forward into the empty space, quickly turning round and sniffing the air, searching for where she'd gone.

"Forget it!" Stiles shouted, heading back into the woods. "Just run!" But before he could take even three steps Stiles crashed into an invisible barrier, nearly knocking him off his feet. He backed up, looking at what appeared to be empty space, but when he reached out his hands he felt what was clearly a wall standing before him. He pushed at first with his hands and then with his shoulder, trying to get it to break, but the invisible barrier refused to budge. Scott tried as well, but even the strength of the wolf was no match for the witch's magic.

"We'll have to run along the edge," Scott said. "There might be a break somewhere, a weakness that we can get through."

A deep laughter echoed through the forest and both Scott and Stiles turned around, trying to find the source. While searching for Givens, Stiles eyes landed on something else. A dense, dark fog started to roll towards them from deep within the forest, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. As it got closer Stiles and Scott instinctively started to draw back; it started coming faster and faster until it suddenly rose up and crashed over them like a giant wave, enveloping them in a choking smog of darkness. They both began to cough, covering their mouths and trying to breathe until they were forced to run in the opposite direction. They ran out of the fog and back onto the yard, coughing and heaving as they tried to catch their breaths. As the fog met the forest's edge it stopped, rising and dissipating into the air.

"Is there another way out of here?!" Scott yelled, still trying to catch his breath. Stiles shook his head.

"No, not if the entire place is surrounded by that barrier. There's not even a road anywhere, there's only trees."

Scott took a breath, running his hands through his hair. "Then we'll have to fight her."

The elation and hope that Stiles had felt at seeing Scott fell away, replaced in its stead with a sense of utter hopelessness. Werewolves could do many things, but what good would they do against a witch? "She's a witch, Scott," Stiles said. "You've never fought a witch before; you have no idea what she can do. I've been with her all week – she'll kill you if she has the chance and she'll do it before you even realise you're dead. It's hopeless."

Scott stared at Stiles incredulously, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Stiles… Stiles, I know you've been through shit but we've been in shit before, we can –."

"Not like this. I… I'm tired, Scott. She… what she's been doing to me, I can barely keep standing. I'm running on fumes, here. If we don't find a way out of here in the next few minutes, I – I don't think I'll be able to escape at all. It'd better if you just find a way out without me –."

"Stiles that's ridiculous," Scott said firmly, not giving Stiles any chance to refute him. "There's no way I'm leaving you. If you stay, I stay. No objection."

Stiles stared at Scott, wanting to argue but feeling too exhausted to say anything more. Besides, he knew that when it came to Scott, arguing was futile.

"What a wonderful thing to see. Two fratrems, one desperately urging the other to save himself, while the other vows to stay and die by his side. What a simply beautiful display of friendship."

Stiles and Scott turned their heads to see Givens slowly making her way around them, like a predator corning its prey. Scott gave her a glare of acid, while Stiles clenched his fists and swallowed, his eyes never leaving the Witch.

"Do you know," Givens continued, turning her attention to Scott, "that a werewolf's claws make wonderful ingredients for potions? It's been a long time since I harvested any for my stores…. I think yours will make a wonderful addition to my collection. As well as many other parts of you…."

"Why did you kidnap Stiles?!" Scott demanded, his eyes following Givens as she made her way towards him, his fingers twitching, his body urging to fight. "What the hell did he ever do to you?!"

Givens raised an eyebrow, the corners of her lips turning up in a smile. She looked Scott up and down, as though appraising him. "Do you truly not know, either? My goodness… the prophecies have clearly failed to make themselves known where they matter the most." She walked behind Scott, reappearing on his other side and making her way back towards Stiles.

Scott gave her an incredulous look. "Prophecies?" he repeated. "What the hell do you mean by prophecies?"

"Oh don't worry, my dear. They don't concern you nearly as much as they concern him." She nodded towards Stiles with a smile. "I must admit though," she said to Scott, "I certainly did not recognise you at first; it wasn't until I saw you disrupting my magic that I realised the connection you bore with the Blessed."

Scott turned angrily to Stiles, confusion etched across his face. "What the hell is she talking about?"

Stiles didn't reply, his eyes never leaving Givens' form as she walked towards him.

"I wouldn't bother asking, Mr. McCall. Your friend is as oblivious as you are when it comes to these things. But no matter. You don't need to know what you have in order for me to take it away from you."

Stiles felt the wind flow gently across his neck and down his arms, whispering across his skin. He glanced up and saw that the sun was no longer shining as grey clouds began to gather across the sky. The air felt charged and heated, as though it were filled with an energy that was just waiting to be released. Without thinking, Stiles clenched his hand by his side, feeling the air tighten in his grasp, rushing, waiting, ready to be set free.

"Now who should I kill first?" Givens asked, tapping her finger against her cheek in mock questioning. Her eyes shifted between the two boys before finally landing on Scott. "I think I'll take the werewolf first. No offence, Stiles, but you seem a little under the weather – so I think it's your friend who poses the most fun right now. But don't worry; when I finish killing him, you'll be right next on my list!" She gave Stiles a wink and turned to Scott, whose features were quickly morphing once more into that of the wolf, his teeth fully grown and claws extending as he backed away from the Witch. Stiles knew he could wait no longer.

"Scott," he whispered under his breath, gathering the wind in the palm of his hands. He saw Scott's eyes briefly glance at him before looking back at the Witch, and he knew his friend had heard him. "When I say go, you run to the right, okay?" Scott's eyes glanced at him again and Stiles could see the confusion hidden behind them. "I know it doesn't make any sense, but you have to trust me, okay? You gotta trust me." Scott didn't look back, but gave a quick, nearly-imperceptible nod of his head.

Givens advanced towards Scott who continued to back away, as Stiles silently lined himself up behind them. His arms were spread down at his side, pulling in as much air and creating as powerful a wind as he could manage. The hold he had felt shaky, and more than once he thought he was going to lose the wind and send it flying in all directions, but he refused to let it slip from his grasp. When he had first used his power, Alayna had told him to rely on his instincts – to use his anger as his fuel. So now that was what he was going to do.

The sky grew darker and the wind picked up. As Givens walked closer and closer to Scott, her hands rising, Stiles knew that it was time to act. Raising his arms, he shouted into the air – "Go, Scott – now!"

In less than a second Scott jumped to the side, leaving Givens completely in the open. With the wind roaring in his ears, Stiles threw his hands forward, sending the wind in his hands gusting towards Givens. Just as Givens had started to turn she around the force slammed into her and she was thrown across the yard, where she crashed against the trees nearly four-hundred feet away. Stiles' muscles tensed, waiting for Givens to move.

Givens' form slowly rose to her feet, wavering for only a moment before she suddenly disappeared. A second later she reappeared, only a few feet in front of Stiles. Startled, he stumbled back, nearly falling to the ground. The playful smile Givens had worn before was gone, her face now contorted into a terrifying look of pure and utter fury.

"You little bitch," she swore, pushing Stiles back as she continued to walk towards him. "You little fucking bitch. How did you find out about them?! Huh?! TELL ME! How the hell did you find your power?! "

Stiles stretched his arms, frantically trying to gather as much wind as he could, but before he could release it, Givens waved her hand, sending Stiles flying backwards and rolling across the ground. He struggled back to his feet and raised his hand, gathering the air as quickly as he could. He released it towards her but Givens simply waved her arms and deflected it. Stiles tried again but it was too late, as Givens stood over him, raised her arm and –

A hand suddenly appeared in the middle of Givens' chest, its fingers and claws covered in blood and flesh. Both Givens and Stiles froze, their eyes wide. A moment later the hand retracted, leaving a gaping hole through Givens' body.

The Witch continued to stand, staring at the hole in her chest in shock, as though wondering how on earth it got there. She slowly began to waver and a second later she collapsed to the ground, completely still. Stiles' eyes landed on the person who stood behind her, whose hand and arm were now covered and dripping with blood. Scott looked down at Givens' lifeless body, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession, his lungs breathing heavily. After a few moments of silence, Scott turned his attention to Stiles.

"Are you okay?" he asked, stepping around Givens' body and reaching his hand down to Stiles. Stiles didn't take it and he shook his head.

"I – I'm fine," he said, leaning back on his elbows. "I just… I just have to catch my breath."

Scott's hand fell to his side and he sat down on the grass beside Stiles, his hand running shakily through his hair as he worked to calm himself down. He looked down at Stiles, who was now lying flat on his back with his arms stretched out in exhaustion, his eyes closed.

They stayed like that for nearly ten minutes, neither saying a word as both struggled to come to terms with what had just happened. Suddenly out of nowhere, Givens' body began to shudder, and a moment later it disappeared in a whirl of grass and leaves. Scott furrowed his eyebrows, confused. He opened his mouth to say something, when suddenly he heard Stiles retching beside him. He turned and saw Stiles leaning over on his elbow, throwing up on the grass. Scott could only lay his hand on Stiles' back and rub it gently as he waited for the bout of sickness to end. After nearly seven minutes, Scott frowned.

"Man, what'd you eat?" he asked lightly, but secretly hoping that Stiles wasn't seriously ill. A few minutes later the sickness finally abated, and Stiles fell weakly back against Scott's chest, breathing heavily.

Scott moved them a few feet away for the sick, which Stiles couldn't be more grateful for, and he'd tell Scott that if his tongue and mouth didn't feel like cotton. Suddenly a drop of water fell on Stiles' face and he looked up to see that grey clouds now encompassed the entire sky, their rain slowly falling to the ground. It was odd to see such a sight after a week of endless sunny days. His eyes drifted downwards, where they landed on the house. His eyes narrowed and he pushed himself up, staring at the building in shock.

The house that he had lived in for the past week, which had seemed like such a beautiful and strong old home, now sat in complete and utter ruin. The once-chestnut walls were now grey and rotted, pieces of boards springing out from the edges as nails stood haphazardly out of their sides. Pristine windows were now broken and covered with dust, and the door that he had used so many times now lay half-way off its hinges, looking ready to fall apart. The roof was torn and broken, and its shingles were nearly all gone. Overall, the house that he had been living in for a week was now in a decrepit state of ruin, looking as though it hadn't been lived in for decades.

"What's the matter?" Scott finally asked, looking between Stiles and the house in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Stiles replied, his eyes setting in a hard glare and his lips pressing together in a tight line. "Just realised that I was under more illusions than I thought was, that's all." Stiles fell onto his back with a heavy sigh, pushing the revelation to the back of his mind.

Scott let out a sigh and leaned back on his hands beside him. "So Givens was a witch?"

"Yep."

"And she kidnapped you?"

"Yep."

"And she kept you here, in that house?"

"Right again."

"How long were you with her?"

"Nearly a week. Her car had broken down and I'd stopped to help her. Well, she said it had broken down. She also said she had a husband. Turns out she's a bit of a liar."

"Shit, man – I can't believe I didn't see –."

Stiles, whose eyes were now closed, reached out and grabbed Scott's arm. "Dude, stop. We can both cry and blame everyone later. But for now, I'd just like to –." He suddenly felt Scott's fingers touching his stomach and pulling up his shirt. His eyes snapped open to see Scott looking at the various bruises, cuts, and whip marks on his torso, a mixture of shock, fear, and guilt etched deep across his face.

"Stiles," he said, his voice shaking. "Stiles, what did she do to you –."

Stiles grabbed Scott's wrist and pushed him away, hastily pulling his shirt back down. "It's nothing; forget about it."

Scott glared at him incredulously. "Fuck that, Stiles – that's not nothing. We need to get you to a hospital –."

"No. No way man, I am not going to a hospital. Seriously, it's not that bad!"

"Like hell it isn't," he said. He grabbed both Stiles' hands and gripped them tightly in his own. The pain that had been with Stiles for the past six hours – for the past six days – immediately began to abate as black lines appeared along the veins underneath Scott's skin, taking away Stiles' pain and making it his own.

Stiles wanted to resist, to reject Scott's help, but as the pain that had been such a constant ache in his body for so long began to disappear, exhaustion quickly took its place and Stiles found that, for the moment, he really couldn't resist. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the ground, vaguely thinking that the grass would make a pretty comfy pillow. "I'd stop you," he said, "but I have to admit – you're a pretty damn good painkiller. Seriously; if you were a drug, you'd be the hottest damn drug on the street."

"Dude, you can't fall asleep here," he heard Scott say somewhere above him. He wrenched his eyes open, giving Scott a weak glare.

"Hey, I'll sleep wherever I please, thank-you very much. I've spent an entire week with a crazy, psycho-witch who tortures people for a hobby, so I think I deserve to fall asleep on the ground if I want to. If I want to sleep on an active volcano, that's where I'll sleep. If I want to sleep in a swamp, so be it. So don't tell me what to do, McCall."

Stiles heard a quiet sigh from above him, but heard nothing more as the sleep that had eluded him for nearly seven days finally encompassed him like a soft, warm blanket, and he gladly fell into its depths.

Scott stared at Stiles who was now asleep, and let out quiet sigh. He couldn't believe what had happened; he couldn't believe that Givens had been a witch, that she had tried to kill the both of them. He didn't even want to think about what would have happened if he hadn't arrived, if Stiles had been caught before they'd managed to reach each other.

Guilt buried itself deep within Scott's chest. He wanted nothing more than to let out a scream, to attack something or beat something up, but now was not the time. Now he had to take care of Stiles, and once Stiles was safe and healed, they would talk – about everything. Because clearly things had happened in this past week, big things, somehow-throwing-wind-with-your-bare-hands kind of things, and Scott wanted to know what the hell had been happening to his best friend while he had been off gallivanting with the Pack.

Pushing the self-deprecation to the side for the moment, Scott rose to his feet and picked Stiles up, easily shifting him until he was lying across Scott's back, gripping Stiles under his knees while his hands draped over Scott's shoulders. Stiles didn't stir once. After getting comfortable, Scott glanced around one last time, before he began his trek back through the woods and home to Beacon Hills.


Thank you all for favouriting and following this story! And especially thank you to all who have reviewed - your reviews are such great encouragement and I appreciate them very much! Thank you for reading! More to come.