Stiles flew down the hill and through the trees, his feet barely touching the ground as he ran towards the witch and the pack. Trees and branches moved out of his way like a parting sea, giving him a straight and clear path to the fight.

As he drew closer, the first thing he noticed was the amount of damage to the trees and the ground; many trees had their branches cut or their bark torn away, while the earth was ripped up and gauged out, soil strewn across the ground. Stiles came to a halt, looking every which way, trying to find Givens and the Pack – but they weren't there. Stiles made to move, about to follow the trail of destruction further into the woods, when he heard it.

A deep crack echoed through the trees, followed by a loud crash. A pained cry sounded from somewhere to his left, and Stiles stared in its direction for only a moment before running towards it. It took him only a few minutes before he found its source.

The Rogue Wolf was growling loudly and panting heavily, its teeth elongated, its claws extended and held by his side, ready and waiting to attack. He was turned away from Stiles, his attention fixed solely in front of him as he walked slowly forwards. Stiles looked over to see what he was looking at, and his breath caught in his throat.

Liam, beaten and bloody, was pinned beneath a massive, fallen tree. He was struggling to move, pulling on his leg, but with no avail. He was snarling and swiping his claws, attempting to fend off the older wolf while trying to free himself, but it was like a puppy trying to fend off a bear – his efforts made no deterrent. The Rogue Wolf continued to approach him, his arm raised and preparing for the final blow.

Without a second thought, Stiles flung out his hands and threw them to the side. Air that he hadn't realised had been gathering by his feet flew forward and crashed against the wolf, sending him flying to the side and crashing into the trees. Thunder cracked loudly above them and bit by bit, raindrops began to fall.

The wolf was momentarily stunned, but quickly gathered himself back together and bared his teeth, his head snapping around, golden-eyes searching for the new threat. They landed on Stiles and his snarl deepened, giving no chance to speak before he began running towards him. Stiles' eyes widened and for a moment he hesitated, fear coursing through his veins as he watched the feral wolf draw near.

But then something happened.

While reaching for the elements, a sudden strength and sensation surged through him – running through his body and sharpening his mind, clearing his thoughts and heightening his senses in a way he had never felt before. He was left with nothing but complete focus and utter determination as he suddenly knew exactly what he had to do.

Silently tilting his head up, Stiles waited a few more moments as the wolf drew closer. The moment the wolf lunged towards him, he raised his hand.

A rush of wind roared down from above, colliding into the wolf with such a force that it immediately sent him flying backwards and crashing into the trees once more. Only this time the wind didn't cease; it continued to beat against him, whipping the branches and leaves around him like a cyclone, the noise almost deafening. The wolf crossed his arms in front of his face, trying to stand to his feet, but each time he tried his feet would slip out from under him and he'd be knocked back to the ground. Stiles watched his futile efforts and slowly began walking towards him, his arm still outstretched in front of him as the wind continuing to roar. The wolf looked up helplessly as Stiles drew near, but the fear in its face was quickly replaced with its ever-present snarl, as it bared and snapped its teeth, fighting until the bitter end. Stiles walked forward until he was directly in front of him, never once looking away from the wolf's bright, gold eyes.

This was the wolf that had tricked him Scott, that had led them back to the Witch and nearly gotten the both of them killed. This was the wolf that attacked Liam, that had been going to kill him. This was the wolf that helped Givens, the witch – the witch who had lured him and deceived him and tortured him, who'd dug her nails into his skin and cut him up like a rag doll; who'd taken metal springs and shoved them through his arms, his legs, his entire body – piercing muscle and flesh and bone

The Rogue Wolf suddenly jerked then began pawing at his neck, his eyes going wide and his mouth gaping open as it tried to take in breath. The wind had died down and all that could be heard in the trees were the sound of the wolf gasping for air, the colour and defiance quickly fading from his face.

Stiles glared at the wolf, his outstretched fingers twitching, gripping the air as it tightened around the wolf's neck, barring the oxygen from entering his lungs.

This was the wolf that had aided the witch, that had served the one who had made his life a living hell, who had given not a second thought to his life or any others. Well not anymore. Now Givens would see what happened when she tried to take things that didn't belong to her; now she would see what happened when you dared to cross The Blessed

A high-pitched screech sounded throughout the forest, tearing Stiles away from his thoughts and forcing him to cover his ears with his hands. The screeching continued for nearly a minute, until finally it came to an abrupt end. When it did, Stiles quickly opened his eyes and looked down, only to see that the wolf was no longer in front of him. He spun around, searching for him, but he was gone.

Stiles blinked, his eyebrows furrowing momentarily together in confusion, feeling as though he had suddenly just broken the surface after being underneath the water, his senses and awareness suddenly coming back to him. He continued to stare into the distance until he realised that someone was panting heavily behind him; he turned around and his eyes widened as they met Liam's.

Liam was looking up at him, his own eyes wide and his mouth open, holding a look of complete shock and astonishment that Stiles had never seen him wear before; and, if Stiles looked closely, he swore he could even see a hint of fea –

A coughing fit overtook Liam, bringing them both out of the silence they'd fallen into and Stiles immediately dashed forward, getting on his knees beside the young wolf. Liam groaned and leaned back, and Stiles could finally see just how stuck he really was. The tree had him pinned just above his right knee-cap, looking for all the world as though it had been crushed; Stiles could only imagine what his leg looked like now.

"Here," Stiles said, trying to find a way to free the leg. "Here, just…just try and –." He pushed his weight against the tree to try and move it, but it did nothing other than to make Liam cry out in pain. Stiles finally stopped when the cries turned to screams and he leaned back, his heart racing as he tried to find a way to free the younger wolf, because if he didn't then he would be the perfect target, completely trapped and unable to get away. But if he couldn't push the tree off, then what else could he d –

Stiles stilled for only a brief moment, before he leaned back and rose to his feet. He swallowed, his palms beginning to sweat as he realised what the only way out was. He took a few steps back, trying to get his breathing under control and focus on what he had to do. He'd never moved something as large as this, he could barely move a twig; but as of this moment, there was no other choice.

"Stiles – Stiles, what – what are you doing?" Liam asked, eyeing Stiles nervously as he tried to follow him with his eyes. "Stiles, just go – forget about me, the others are still with the witch, and they –." He didn't get to finish his sentence, as at that moment Stiles closed his eyes, and everything around them went completely still.

Stiles took a deep breath, then raised his hand towards the fallen tree, focusing on it – and only it – as hard as he could.

He could feel the fallen tree just as he had felt the trees back in the clearing with Scott, when he'd first discovered his control over the earth. He could feel the leaves, the bark, the roots. He could feel how it lay against the ground, where it touched Liam's leg. He willed it to move, to come under his control, to fall into his grasp.

Without warning he felt his control of the earth take hold, sliding into his grasp, a slack rope suddenly pulled taught. It was different than holding onto the air, which could be gathered together and moved with ease; with the element of earth, he felt like he was really holding onto something physical, something heavy. Something strong.

He heard something creak and Liam cry out, and Stiles' eyes snapped open. He looked at the fallen tree and realised with a start that it was no longer in the same position it had been before. It had shifted slightly away from Liam, revealing part of his very injured – but thankfully still intact – leg. Liam's cries continued, though, and Stiles quickly refocused back on moving the tree. It felt as though he'd gotten stuck, as though he were pushing against a wall. He pushed against it harder, gripping the tree and lifting it with all and every bit of his will.

The tree lifted above the ground and off of Liam's leg, but it gave barely any room for Liam to move away. The tree began to shudder and Stiles realised that his arm was shaking. Doing the only thing he could think of, he threw up his other arm, fingers splayed wide against the air. The tree immediately stabilized and rose another ten feet.

It felt as though he were lifting cement; the tree continued to rise and Stiles' shoulders began to ache. Liam made a noise and for a brief second Stiles' focus faltered; the tree slipped down a few feet in the air before he managed to grab it back, lifting it even higher than before. Thunder cracked above him and Stiles gritted his teeth as his arms began to shake. By now the tree was raised above the canopy of the forest, and with a final push, Stiles threw his arms to the side, sending the tree flying across the woods and crashing into the distance.

Stiles stumbled back, his lungs heaving in his chest. He turned his eyes to Liam, who was struggling to get to his one good leg. Stiles ran over to him but Liam just shook his head, his eyes still wide in a mix of adrenaline and disbelief. "No, go," he said, pointing behind Stiles. "They're straight through the trees. Don't worry about me, I'll be right behind you."

Lines etched between Stiles' eyes in a frown. "But your leg –."

"It's fine! I'm a werewolf, I'll heal – now go!"

Stiles stared at Liam a moment longer before he finally pressed his lips together, nodded, and turned around, running through the trees and to the fight.


Givens had been in the middle of taunting Kira and Lydia while holding off Scott with her magic, when she suddenly went completely still, her words dying on her tongue. Scott narrowed his eyes at her, wondering what was going on, when a large smile suddenly spread across her face. She turned around, staring into the woods, Kira and Lydia momentarily forgotten. "He's finally here," she said, her smile growing dark. Kira and Lydia were left standing on the tree branch where Givens had left them, still held immobile by her magic.

Nearly two-minutes passed before Givens' smile began to waver, her eyes seeing something that Scott's could not. After a moment she swore. "That damn wolf – he's utterly useless." She snapped her fingers and a loud screech pierced the air, resounding through the trees and forcing Scott to quickly press his hands against his ears. His heightened sense of hearing made the high-pitched-sound all the more painful and he reflexively squeezed his eyes shut.

After what felt like an age the sound finally ended and Scott opened his eyes, watching as the witch continued to stare through the trees, before finally turning around and making her way back to the girls. "Well young ladies, I think the time is nearly here! Are you both ready for your sentencing? Oh, and we mustn't forget these…." Two black hoods appeared above the girls' heads, before quickly sliding over them. Scott could see the fear and panic in their eyes as their faces disappeared from view and he began beating his fist against the invisible wall that was barricading him from the rest of the group, shouting at the witch and telling Kira and Lydia that they'd be okay, that everything would be okay. His efforts made no change, however, and Givens continued to ignore him. Almost seven-minutes passed before something finally happened.

Scott could hear the noise of someone running through the trees from over a mile away, running closer towards them with each passing second. He was downwind so Scott couldn't catch his scent, but he knew instantly who it was. He didn't know why or how he knew, but he could sense with every bone in his body that the person running towards them was Stiles.

Stiles burst through the trees, stumbling to a stop. His chest heaved in and out as he caught his breath, his eyes flashing between the girls and Scott as he took in the scene before him. Scott was being held behind a barrier, four invisible walls surrounding him on all sides; the air didn't flow through there as it should, a void left in the otherwise normal space. The girls stood atop a branch high in the trees, their heads covered with black cloth and their wrists and necks bound with thick rope.

A dark glare settled over Stiles' face and he finally turned to Givens, who was watching him with a small, crooked smirk. "My dear little Blessed… so you have finally decided to join us. Tell me," she said, motioning to the girls in the tree, "are those not the prettiest necklaces you've ever seen? Pretty necklaces for such pretty girls, don't you agree?"

His heart dropped in his chest and panic surged through Stiles' veins; he jerked forward, attempting to raise his arms and gather the wind to attack her, when Givens suddenly raised her own arm and he came to a halt, his muscles locking into place and his body refusing to move. Givens smiled and waved her fingers at him. "It's been a long time since I've witnessed a hanging. It will be exciting to watch them struggle, their feet kicking helplessly in the air as they die."

Stiles wanted to scream at her, to tell her to stop, but his mouth would not move. The witch just grinned and raised her hand. "You should have given me what I wanted when I first asked you for it," she said. "Now these two innocent girls will die because of the choices you made. Such a shame." With a snap of her fingers the branch beneath Kira and Lydia's feet broke, sending them plummeting only a few feet towards the ground before the ropes around their necks pulled taught and they began to swing, their bodies and legs jerking frantically in the air for purchase that wasn't there.

A panic and anger seared through Stiles like fire and he yelled, throwing his hands against the barrier of magic in front of him. Thunder cracked loudly above them, shaking the entire forest and the ground beneath them; the air whipped up into a violent wind and every tree began to shudder. Without warning the magic that had been binding Stiles broke and he lunged forward, flinging his arm out in front of him towards Kira and Lydia. The surge of air cut through the ropes like a knife and sent the girls falling towards the ground. Throwing out his other hand he just managed to catch them, using the air like a pillow beneath their bodies, before he was suddenly and violently thrown to the ground.

Stiles' hold on the air broken, Scott watched helplessly as the girls screamed and fell to the ground. Lydia landed first, her head hitting the base of the tree with an audible crack. Kira fell a second after, landing on the forest floor nearby. Scott beat his fists against the barrier, his eyes red and roaring in panic as he fought to reach them. The smell of blood quickly hit his nose as the ground around Lydia's head slowly turned red. Neither girl moved an inch.

Stiles pushed Givens off of him and sent her flying backwards, trying to throw her into the trees. Her magic caught her and she quickly righted herself, landing gently back on the ground. He heard Scott roar behind him and he turned to see Lydia and Kira lying on the ground, their bodies completely still. He turned back to Givens, who was raising her arm towards him, magic coursing and spiking through the air like electricity. Lightning flashed and a crash of thunder immediately followed, as the rain picked up and began to pour. Stiles quickly raised his own hand to mirror Givens and shifted his footing beneath him – he wasn't going to let this go on any longer.

Givens threw the first attack, a wave of magic rushing like a shockwave through the forest, ripping through the trees as it came speeding towards him. On instinct Stiles crossed his arms and gathered the air in front of him, creating an invisible barrier of his own. The magic hit the wall and surged up towards the sky, pushing Stiles through the mud and back towards Scott until it finally dissipated.

"STILES!" Scott yelled, watching as Givens began to walk towards them, starting to lift her hand and bring her fingers together. Stiles threw his arms out towards Given and two cyclones of wind and rain erupted in the air, running across the ground and colliding into her, obscuring her from view.

Stiles turned around and met Scott at the barrier, looking frantically up and down as he ran his fingers across its shimmering wall, searching for a way to break it. His eyes suddenly met Scott's and he pressed both his palms against the barricade. "Put your hands against it!" he shouted above the wind and rain. Scott had no idea why he was asking it or what he thought it would achieve, but there was no time to question. Putting up his hands, Scott placed his palms against the wall, directly in front of Stiles'.

The barricade shook once, then twice, shimmering with a mixture of purple and blue, before – like a hammer against glass – it shattered. Without a word Scott ran past Stiles, his claws extended as he brought them down on Givens, who had been only a few feet behind Stiles.

Caught off guard, Givens shrieked in pain as Scott slashed her shoulder, claws catching the end of the hole in her chest and ripping a deep gash across her skin. Stiles spun around and held out his hand, gripping his fingers into the air. Givens began to gasp as the air-pressure around her neck increased and started to choke her. She stumbled backwards and Scott ran around behind her, ready to shove his hand into her back, just as he had before. He glanced briefly at Stiles and nearly faltered, when he realised with a start that his eyes were glowing. A bright, clear mist surrounded and highlighted them, a stark contrast to the dark clouds above and the rain around them. Pushing the shock to the back of his mind, Scott instead placed his focus entirely on Givens, waiting for the right moment to attack.

But Givens didn't give him that moment. As she continued to choke, she managed to raise a shaking hand and snapped her fingers. Out of nowhere the Rogue Wolf appeared beside them, and a second later he tackled Stiles to the ground. Scott ran forward, aiming for Givens' neck, when the witch suddenly disappeared into thin air. Scott started to spin around to look for her when he was suddenly thrown across the ground and sent rolling through the muddied forest floor. When he managed to right himself, he realised that his claws were only inches from Lydia's unconscious head. He quickly moved away from her and got back to his feet, running to where the Rogue Wolf had Stiles pinned to the ground, its claws slashing at his shoulders and neck. Just as Scott was about to reach them Stiles suddenly pushed his hands forward, and a gust of wind sent the Rogue Wolf flying off of him and crashing into Givens.

The witch was still bleeding from Scott's attack, as well as from numerous other injuries she had obtained throughout the fight. The witch and the Rogue Wolf were just getting back to their feet when Stiles waved his arm in the air, motioning above them. Branches and tree-limbs broke away and flew through the air, hurtling towards and beating against Givens and the wolf, tearing at their clothes and skin, bashing against their heads and bodies. They covered their faces, trying to ward off the flying projectiles, while at the same time trying to take shelter in amongst the surrounding trees. And that was exactly where Stiles wanted them.

As soon as they were out of the clearing, all of the branches from the trees above them cracked in unison and with a massive noise they fell to the ground, burying the witch and the wolf beneath them. But Stiles didn't stop there; he walked forward, his arm still outstretched in front of him. Thunder roared and the ground shook, nearly knocking Scott off his feet. The branches and trees that had fallen on Givens shifted under Stiles' hand, stabbing and beating into the ones beneath it.

A noise sounded behind him and Scott turned. Kira was starting to move, groaning in pain as she did. Scott quickly went over to her, turning her around and leaning over her to block her from the rain. She blinked as water hit her face, looking at Scott only briefly before turning on her side and throwing up. "Kira! Kira, are you okay?!" Scott asked quickly, shifting his attention between the kitsune and the battle. He turned back to Kira, who was taking deep breaths and nodding her head, motioning for him to go. With a quick brush of his thumb against her forehead, Scott got back to his feet and ran towards Stiles.

When he reached him, Stiles was standing only a few feet away from the pile of branches, his fingers clenched against the air, the glowing mist that had surrounded his eyes now tinged with green. "Are they dead?" Scott asked. "Are they –."

The branches suddenly began to move and a shockwave burst through the clearing, pushing Scott and Stiles back as it pressed against them. The brush shifted and a moment later Givens arose, like a scarecrow rising above a field. Her face was torn and bloodied, her dress shredded to pieces. Numerous branches were lodged into her abdomen and sides, but she paid them no notice. Instead, she had her focus entirely on the Rogue Wolf, who was now wrapped tightly in her arms, constricted against her body. Where there had once been nothing but a feral snarl etched permanently across his face, there was now a look of complete brokenness, a mixture of fear and defeat shining in his eyes.

Givens smiled, running a shaking finger underneath the Rogue Wolf's chin. "Shh, shh, my pet," she whispered. "All is well, do not worry." She looked over at Stiles and Scott, her eyes wide and crazed as her smile spread across her lips. "Well, my Blessed, you are putting up a fine fight, I must give you that. I had no idea you had come so far in so short a time." She continued to stroke the werewolf's cheek, her fingers running down along his neck. "But tell me, have you met my little pet?"

Both Stiles and Scott said nothing, their bodies tensed as they gauged the situation, waiting to see what Givens was doing. The witch looked between them and licked her lips, her smile never leaving her face. "My little pet here was lonely when I picked him up; oh so lonely and sad – isolated from his friends, isolated from his pack. It can be awful difficult when you're living so secluded in the mountains…."

A memory that Scott had forgotten suddenly appeared before his eyes and the colour drained from his face, as the pieces of the puzzle finally put themselves together. "He's the missing wolf," he said, staring at the werewolf who was silently watching them back. "The missing wolf from the Colorado Pack. They came looking for him, they were asking where he was." Scott blinked, stunned as realisation dawned. "You weren't a rogue wolf at all. You're not even feral. You were just taken, by her –." He looked at Givens, who smiled widely back. His eyes narrowed. "And you forced him to obey you. You controlled him, you forced him to do what you wanted –."

Stiles shifted beside him and without warning he raised his hand, his eyes wild and his mouth twisted in anger. "You fucking bitch," he swore and Scott could smell the fury emanating from him, even with the pouring rain. Stiles took a step forward. "You fucking piece of shit –."

"Ah, ah, ah, Mr. Stilinski," Givens said, her fingers shifting from the wolf's cheek to across his neck, her nails digging into the skin. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. You wouldn't want more blood on your hands, would you?" She motioned to Kira and Lydia, who were still in the same spot what Scott had left them. Kira had moved closer to Lydia and was leaning over her, trying to shake her, but her movements were weak and she soon collapsed back to the forest floor.

Givens cackled and Stiles and Scott turned back to her, both glaring at her with vicious anger. The witch smiled and rocked the wolf back and forth, cooing in fake comfort as her fingernails cut into his skin and began to draw blood. "Do you know how much he screamed," she said, looking back up at Stiles, "when I ripped his claws from his fingers, one by one? Or how much he whimpered, like a little dog, when I beat him until he was covered in blood?" Her eyes drifted to Scott. "You werewolves have great strength and endurance, far more than humans. But you are certainly, in the end, no match for a witch." She turned her gaze back to Stiles, her voice soft and low. "He was easy to break, in the end, though he was never truly happy to do as I told him. I rectified that, of course, with a simple spell to keep him under my control. It is so much easier when they don't fight back, don't you agree?"

Stiles was at a loss. He could attack the witch, he could pierce her with more branches or throw her against the tree, but the moment he did that she would kill the Rogue Wolf. Except it wasn't a rogue wolf, it was the Colorado wolf – the one his pack had been searching for, who had been missing; but as it turned out he'd actually been captured – he'd been kidnapped. Like Stiles. But unlike Stiles, he had been tortured for far longer, and in the end had been placed entirely under her control. But at least she had a reason for taking Stiles. This wolf, he was an innocent – and Stiles would be damned if he let him di –

"D… don't…."

The voice took everyone by surprise, including Givens, and they looked at the Rogue Wolf, who was opening his mouth and trying to speak. His voice was hoarse and scratchy, whether from disuse or from screaming, Stiles didn't know. He was looking directly into Stiles' eyes, his gaze never breaking away. Givens tightened her grip on his throat in warning, but he paid her no attention. "Don't… don't try t'fight… run…" he stuttered out. "Tell my pack… tell th'm I… I'm s'rry… tell them I tri'd…."

Stiles frowned at the wolf, trying to understand why he was saying this, when suddenly, with a last burst of energy, the wolf flashed out his claws, and stabbed them through his chest.

Scott shouted and Stiles jerked forward, but it was too late. His hand had gone through his entire chest and out the other side, where it was now lodged in Givens' neck.

Givens screamed and pushed the dead-wolf away, tearing his claws from her neck as she stumbled over the branches and back into the woods. Stiles didn't wait a moment longer.

Using the air, Stiles lifted Givens above the ground and threw her to the side, sending her flying into the trees with a crack. Giving her no time to recover, Stiles used the wind like whips, beating her down and keeping her from getting up. The witch, however, managed to push away the wind with her magic and snapped her fingers. She disappeared from the trees and reappeared behind them in the clearing. Scott took off towards her, followed closely by Stiles.

The next few minutes were a flurry of punches and dodges, of lunges and tackles, as Scott and Stiles fought alongside each other against the witch. When Scott missed an opening, Stiles would take it and when Stiles forced the witch into defense, Scott would use her distraction to attack.

Unbeknownst to any of them as they fought, Lydia had started to stir. Kira was lying on the ground beside her, having fallen back into unconsciousness, blood continuing to seep from a deep gash on her leg, dangerously near her artery.

Lydia struggled to sit up, her head swimming and her entire body pulsating in pain. She struggled for a moment to move her arms, before realising that her hands were bound. She tried to release them, but unable to move the rope, she began pushing at the hood that was covering her head. Her movements were slow and uncoordinated, her hands slipping numerous times before she finally stopped. She leaned forward, pressing her wrists against her head as a sudden headache began to throb beneath her scalp. Nausea rolled over her in waves and she struggled to focus, to gather herself together and figure out where she was.

Then suddenly, a familiar feeling washed over her and she squeezed her eyes shut, dreading but unable to stop what she knew was about to come. A second later it rose in her chest and tore through her throat, and with a terrifying intensity, she screamed.

The scream ricocheted through the clearing and across the forest, throwing everyone around her to the ground. The rope still tied around her neck was shredded, falling away in pieces. The witch, however, did not stay on the ground for long.

Getting back to her feet, an aura of magic appeared around Givens and she used it to lift Stiles into the air and bind his wrists together, barricading Scott behind a wall of magic once more. The front of Stiles' shirt suddenly began to burn until there was nothing left, and a second later his chest and stomach began to glow bright in numerous, intricate designs – the same designs that she had drawn on his chest over what felt like an age ago, back when he had been lying on the cold floor of her house.

"You should have run the moment you learned what I was," Givens said, striding towards him, blood and sweat dripping from her head and neck, her dress dirtied and torn. "But now it's too late. I've done all the magic that is required, fed you all the food that you needed, and had you drink all the potions necessary. All that is left is to take your powers away from you. I hope you enjoyed them, Stiles – because you will never see them or another waking moment again." With that, Givens rasied her hand, and shoved it into Stiles' chest.

Stiles' eyes went wide and he jerked, his body spasming violently. A scream had lodged in his throat and couldn't get out, while white-hot pain coursed through his body as though he were on fire and his vision turned white. He gasped, then began to choke, his breath suddenly disappearing from his lungs. He felt himself weaken, the sensation and feeling of the air and the earth that he had only just started to get used to, slowly starting to fade away. He struggled against it, trying to grab hold of them, trying to bring them back, but with every passing second he felt himself grow more tired and the edge of this vision began to tinge with darkness. He couldn't move, he couldn't cry out, he couldn't breathe…. He was going to… he was going to –

An almighty roar sounded in his ears, and suddenly the weight against his chest disappeared and air roared back into his lungs, his chest heaving as he sucked in breath. Energy immediately began returning to his body and he slowly became aware of what was going on around him. Looking up, he saw Givens over forty-feet away from him, pinned to the ground. Scott was on top of her, slashing at her face and arms with an abandon that Stiles had never seen before. The witch defended his blows for a few moments before throwing him off. What she hadn't counted on, however, was Kira, who in the last few minutes had regained consciousness and with great effort, managed to find her sword and get to her feet, walking towards Givens until she was right behind her. Raising her sword just as Givens threw Scott away, Kira took her sword and stabbed Givens through her back.

Givens screamed and spun around, throwing out her hand and sending Kira flying back into the trees. Grabbing the sword and ripping it out of her back, Givens grabbed both ends and broke it in half, tossing it to the ground. By that time Scott had regained his footing and began attacking Givens once more.

Pain continued to sear through Stiles' chest and throughout his body, but he pushed the pain back and slowly got to his feet, his body shaking as he did. He took a small step forward, then another, his left arm wrapped around his abdomen as his body bent over, struggling to stay on his feet. With each step he could feel his energy returning; he could feel the earth beneath his feet reviving and strengthening him, he could feel the air all around him helping him, pushing him forward and closer towards the witch.

Stiles watched as Kira got back to her feet and ran towards the witch, her body wrapped in fox-fire and ready to attack. Lydia was still crouched on the ground, her hands pressed against her forehead, and Stiles knew that she was getting ready to scream.

As Stiles walked towards Givens the witch looked up and their eyes met. The witch snarled and ducked out from under Scott, lunging towards Stiles. "Let us finish this," she said, and tackled Stiles to the ground.

A dark sensation washed over Stiles and he felt as though his insides were suddenly being squeezed together, all at once. The sensation left as quickly as it began and when Stiles looked up he realised that they were no longer in the rain-soaked clearing with Scott, Lydia, and Kira, but were now instead in a different clearing, shrouded in a dark, dense mist. Stiles rolled to the side as he tore himself away from Givens, pushing past the abrupt change and setting his entire focus on the only thing that mattered – the witch.

Strengthened and surging with a sudden new energy, Stiles rose to his feet and readied his hands, glaring at Givens who stood on the other side of the clearing. He walked to his right and she did the same; they began to circle each other, each waiting for the moment to strike. Her snarl momentarily leaving her face, Givens grinned. "Are you ready to die, Mr. Stilinski?" she asked. She raised her hand and snapped her fingers, and a multitude of sharp, diamond-shaped lights appeared in the air, before shooting straight towards Stiles.

Stiles threw up his arms and brought the air together in front of him to form a barrier; most of the magic deflected off the element and shot into the trees, but some made it through, whizzing past Stiles' head before one grazed deep into his side. Stiles released the shield and with a wave of his arms, threw a blast of wind towards Givens. Knowing she'd dodge, he sent another wave right after the first, knocking Givens off her feet and sending her to the ground.

Stiles refused to allow her to get up and closing his eyes for the briefest moment, he dug deep inside himself and, sensing the element of the earth around him, he grabbed hold.

The ground began to rumble, and then it began to shake. The trees shuddered and shook as the earth quaked beneath them; Givens tried to get to her feet, but fell back down each time, before growling in frustration and finally snapping her fingers.

All the noise around him suddenly ceased, and Stiles was left with nothing but utter silence. It were as though someone had turned off the sound on a movie, and he was left with nothing but the moving picture to see what was going on in front of him.

In his distraction the earthquake began to subside and Givens rose back to her feet, her smile returned as she extended her hand towards him, and snapped her fingers again. In the next moment his sight disappeared, leaving him now not only deaf, but blind.

For a moment, Stiles began to panic. The sudden absence of his senses was jarring, sending him unintentionally stumbling back, grasping for anything to reorient and gather himself. He stopped after a few steps when he felt the bark of a tree touch his back, and suddenly a familiar sensation brushed the back of his mind and he suddenly became aware of its presence all around him. Without any thought, Stiles knew exactly what it was.

Earth.

For a moment it felt as though time had stopped, as he suddenly took notice of every tree and every root in the clearing around him, every brush and every branch, the soil strewn across the ground and the life growing within it.

The sensation of the air followed, whispering around his arms and legs, his head and his body, its power ready and waiting to be used.

Suddenly, though Stiles could neither see nor hear, he knew exactly where Givens was – and she was coming directly towards him.

Extending his arm in front of him, Stiles reached towards where Givens stood and the wind rushed forward, wrapping itself around her. But instead of simply pushing her down, this time the wind lifted her purposefully into the air, raising her high above the ground, her arms and legs kicking the entire way. Stiles pressed the air around her, grabbing onto her arms and legs, its pressure closing and pressing around her body until she was completely immobile.

Stiles still couldn't see or hear, but he knew nonetheless that he finally had her in a spot she could not easily escape. Holding her in place with one hand, Stiles used his other to raise a large branch into the air, turning and breaking pieces off its end until it was as sharp as a knife. With a final wave of his arm, Stiles sent the branch flying straight towards Givens' chest.

Suddenly the weight of Givens' body disappeared, and his sight and hearing returned just in time to see the branch fly through the empty air and lodge into a tree.

Stiles swung his head back and forth, trying to find where Givens had gone. With fast breaths he closed his eyes, reaching out with the earth and the air, trying to find where she was hiding. While he could not pinpoint exactly where she was, he nonetheless could sense that somewhere, she was there.

Raising his hands by his sides in ready defense, Stiles crouched into the mist, eyes scanning the fog and the darkness as he looked for any movement he could see.

A deep cackle resounded through the clearing, echoing off the trees and vibrating throughout his entire body. Stiles searched for its source, but he could find nothing. "Look how far you've come, my dear little Blessed! So quick, so strong – yet so unwise. Did you really think you and your band of misfits could defeat me? Did you really think you had that power?"

Stiles saw something shift to his left and he flung out his arms, sending a burst of wind crashing through the trees. The witch's voice cackled again. "You missed, dear one. Would you like to try again?" Something shuffled in the trees to his right and Stiles sent another burst of wind towards it, once more breaking through the trees, and once more missing the witch. "No, no, no, not there. Perhaps I am behind you?" A branch cracked only a few feet behind him and Stiles spun around, throwing the air from his hands. "Or am I beside you?" Another branch broke to his right and with a yell Stiles threw his arms to his side, a particularly powerful burst of wind cutting through the fog and the trees, but once again hitting no one.

Givens cackled once more, and Stiles felt the heat of anger begin to rise in his chest and the back of his neck. The earth rumbled threateningly beneath him but no quake followed, leaving Stiles in the silence of the clearing with only the sound of his racing heart pounding in his ears to be heard. The silence was short lived, however, as after a few moments Givens voice returned. "You're weak, you know," she whispered, her words slipping through the fog and the air like a snake. "You're weak and your friends know it; why else would they have sought to fight me without you? They still believe you're a burden, they still believe you are nothing but a hindrance, a damsel to be saved – even your brother, Scott."

With a growl Stiles stretched out his hands to each of his sides, palms pressed outwards and fingers splayed, and every tree around him began to shake. When the shaking died down all was silent, but the silence lasted for only a moment before the witch's voice sounded once more. "You know your efforts are futile; you'll never be able to kill me. I know everything about you, your powers, the prophecy, but you know nothing about yourself. Aren't you least bit curious to know what it is these centuries-old stories say about you?"

Stiles said nothing, refusing to let her goad him. His silence, however, only spurred her to continue. "Centuries ago there was an old woman who had a vision. And do you know who she saw in that vision? She saw you, my little Blessed. She saw you, and she saw all of those that you would defeat, all of what you would deem to be dark, to be evil. With what would eventually enter your world, she believed you would be the one to defeat it – that you and your great power would defeat it, and send it back from whence it came." Givens chuckled. "Rather silly, don't you think?"

Givens paused, then said, "I'll give you one last chance, Stiles. Admit your defeat – give up your powers, and I promise that you and your friends will go free. I'll even let you live, unharmed." The witch laughed. "Well, no more unharmed than you already are, that is."

Stiles stood completely still, his chest heaving in and out as he struggled to catch his breath. He was completely exhausted, both the physical fighting and the use of his powers draining him of all energy. He thought back to Kira and Lydia, the nooses wrapped around their necks, their bodies struggling in the air as the rope choked them to death. He thought of Liam, trapped beneath the fallen tree, his leg crushed, watching helplessly as the Rogue Wolf advanced towards him, a predator cornering its prey, ready to finish it off. He thought of Malia, wondering where she had gone, what the wolf had done to her and if she was even still alive. He finally thought of Scott, beaten and bloodied, nearly killed by the witch countless times already, all thanks to him. It was all thanks to him.

Swallowing, Stiles stepped back into the clearing, his hands slowly falling to his sides. She was right; he couldn't defeat her. He could throw the wind at her all day, he could trap her in a hurricane, he could split the ground beneath her feet – and she'd still manage to survive, she'd still manage to escape. Perhaps, like she said, if he really wanted to end this, if he really wanted to save them, he'd have to give her what she wanted.

He'd have to give her his powers.

Raising his head, Stiles took a deep, shaky breath, before he finally nodded. "Fine," he said quietly. "Fine. Take them, take all of them. Just stop hurting my friends – just let them go. Promise me you'll let them go."

The darkness that had covered the part of the forest that they were in slowly weakened, rays of sunlight breaking through the canopies and shining into the clearing. The fog in front of him dissipated and in its wake stood the witch, a smile spread across her face. "I'm glad you've finally seen the light, Stiles," she said, walking towards him. Out of instinct Stiles couldn't help but back away, fear etched across his as his heartbeat began to race.

Givens cooed at him, her eyes feigning sympathy and concern. "Oh you don't have to fear me, Stiles," she said, coming to a stop. "What will happen will be very quite simple. Think of it as visiting the dentist; all it will be is a simple extraction." She looked Stiles up and down, a grin spreading across her face. "You really are quite handsome, you know – in a young sort of way. It's a shame you didn't agree to come with me back when I had you strung up in that little shack; together, we could have conquered the world." Her eyes finally met Stiles' and she smiled. "But no matter. We have made our choices, you and I. And I think it is quite safe to say that you have made the right one."

With her final words Givens finally moved, making to step forward, only to jerk and nearly fall over, instead. Confusion spread across her face as Givens looked down at the ground, and her eyes grew wide. Her feet were buried deep into the ground, soil covering and encasing them nearly to her knees, completely immobilizing her into the earth.

"You're right," Stiles said, taking a step back. "I did make the right choice." He continued walking backwards until he reached the trees, leaving Givens standing alone in the middle of the clearing. "And I think it's quite safe to say, that you made the wrong one."

Givens snapped her head up, her eyes wide and wild in a terrifying fury. She opened her mouth to speak when suddenly she began to feel something touch her legs, and she looked back down.

Branches and roots began growing out of the soil, wrapping around her legs over and over again, running up her body and weaving their way over her chest and shoulders, binding her arms and hands to her sides and continuing to add layer after layer, until no exposed-inch of her body was left. The roots and branches wrapped around her twice, then three, then four times, encasing her in a wooden sarcophagus of a tomb, until all that was left was her head. She glared at Stiles, struggling to open her mouth, struggling to speak, but before she could manage a single word, a spear of wood shot through the encasement and right through her body. Her eyes widened and she began to scream in utter fury as blood ran down from her mouth. At that exact moment the roots began wrapping around her head and over her shoulders until they disappeared beneath it, bringing a abrupt and instant end to her screams, leaving the clearing in a sudden silence.

Stiles stared at the makeshift tomb, his eyes dark and his face without expression. A moment later fire erupted at the base of the encasement, rippling across the bottom before quickly licking its way up. Within moments it swallowed the entire tomb, burning the branches and wood and everything within it. Stiles let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, and with a wave of exhaustion he fell to the ground in a heap.

The witch was finally dead.

And this time, she wasn't coming back.


A/N: I'm not the most experienced or by any means the best at writing actions scenes, but I hope this chapter was enjoyable nonetheless!

Thank you so, so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! You guys are so kind and generous, and I look forward to and love reading your reviews!

One more chapter to go!