A/N

Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading. So this is the second to last chapter, technically the last since the one afterwards is an epilogue. On Tuesday I will begin to post the aforementioned prequel, which will sometime be followed by the sequel. A bit of housekeeping: remember Alexander's second in command? Well she's in this chapter, which shouldn't be too surprising, but for those non vampire-diaries fans, she's possessing a character who will be featured in the prequel, a doctor named Meredith Fell. Okay, that's it. I'd like to thank all my awesome reviewers and readers, see you tomorrow for the final instillation. As always be sure to check out my non-crossover "one way ticket" and enjoy!

Ch. 13

Blood on my Name

"Lydia! Lydia! Stop! I'm fine! Seriously!" Stiles' voice was muffled slightly by Lydia's red hair as she hugged him for dear life. Stiles attempted to swat her away for a few seconds, but upon realizing it was impossible he reciprocated. After a minute Lydia stepped away from Stiles. He looked relieved for about two seconds before she slapped his face. Again.

"First Scott stumbles in here speechless saying he's lost you and your brother tells us you've been kidnapped by the king of hell? Never scare me like that again." Lydia said determinedly. She marched down the stairs to where the rest of the pack and Sam were waiting. Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked over at Stiles, who was groaning in pain and clutching his cheek.

"Note to self." Stiles said weakly. "Never upset Lydia. Ever." He and Dean then trudged down the stairs to join the rest of the pack. Stiles ran over to Scott and gave him a hug. "Hey, man, are you okay?" He asked his friend. Scott nodded and gestured to his throat, indicating he couldn't speak. Stiles noticed Isaac, who was standing behind Scott, was panting slightly.

Dean walked over to Sam, who looked a little shaken. "C'mon Sammy," he teased. "You weren't worried I hope." Sam smiled and shook his head.

"Nah. I knew you'd be back soon." Dean nodded but his eyes strayed to Sam's black phone on the floor nearby. It wasn't broken, but it had a dent on the corner, as if it had been thrown against the wall. Dean made a note to talk to Sam later about respecting Christmas presents before moving on to examine Scott. What Lydia had said briefly at the door had intrigued him, and as he made his way over to the alpha he could see that Scott was indeed struggling to speak. As Dean approached Scott, Allison and Stiles, who had been fussing over him, stepped away so Dean could see.

"Crowley did this to you?" Dean asked. Scott nodded. "Did he say what he wanted? Did he say anything else worth mentioning?" Scott shrugged. "Stiles," Dean said, switching his attention to his little brother, "Did he say anything to you before he confronted me ?" Stiles rubbed the back of his neck nervously and was about to reply but was interrupted by Sam.

"Confronted you? Dean, What the hell happened? What happened to the plan?" Sam yelled, and Dean could hear the stress and worry in his voice. Dean had to tell him now, even if it was in front of the pack. He spun around to face Sam, but the reassuring words dies in his throat.

"Sam, I would love to have a heart to heart about how worried you've been, but we've got problems. I was jumped at the water plant by Alexander's second in command, and she made it easy for me to escape. I ran in to Crowley, who had Stiles, and he made me tell him everything. Stiles and I ran away, but it was the same thing, too demons followed us here." Sam nodded as Dean finished, his serious manner replacing his worried one.

"Stiles, what happened to you and Scott?"

"Well, we were drawing the devil's trap when Crowley appeared. He mentioned something about being suspicious, Scott became mute, we vanished to the warehouse where Dean 'escaped', and Crowley made Dean tell him that he was my brother. You know, typical day." Stiles quipped. Sam thought that he was acting a little too energetic, especially since a moment earlier he looked very nervous, almost like he was leaving something out. Sam shook his head and chalked it up to being freaked out by the whole thing.

"Wait a minute. What's this about the demons following you? I thought the hex bags kept us safe!" This came from Allison, who stood near the back with her bow, suddenly looking very apprehensive.

"They do, which is why they kidnapped us. Without Stiles and I leading a trail back to here, the demons would never have found us." Dean replied.

"Why do it then?" Peter growled, barely containing his rage.

"I'll have my brother explain." Dean said, never taking his eyes off of Peter. "But first, let me ask you something. Who did I kill?"

"What?" Peter asked, surprise keeping the menace in his voice at bay.

"Well usually when people hate me as much as you do it's because I've slept with their daughter, broken several federal laws, punched them in the face, or killed someone they loved. You don't have a daughter, that I am aware of, you wouldn't care if I broke 50 laws (which I have), and as much as I would love to punch you in the face, it hasn't happened yet. So tell me, who did I kill?"

Peter remained silent.

"Suit yourself. But if we're going to take on four-odd demons and the king of hell, we are going to need to work together." Peter, who stood in front of Dean, arms crossed, nodded slowly. "Excelent. Stiles?" Dean gestured for Stiles to take the reigns.

"Um.. yeah." Stiles said eloquently. "So, ok, please don't get mad at me, but at first Sam, Dean and I were going to face on the demons somewhere else... without you." Stiles said tentatively. He flinched at the looks of betrayal that flashed across Scott's and Allison's faces.

"Stiles, how could you?" Allison asked, the stress from the night wearing on her voice.

"Allison, please don't be mad at me." Stiles begged. "It was to keep you safe. It was to keep all of you-" he gestured around the loft "-safe. You don't have my brother's skills or training. I do. You're a werewolf hunter. I'm a demon hunter. If you go up against a demon, Allison, you'd lose."

Allison's glare was sharp enough to cut through the metal walls.

"Look," Stiles continued, "it doesn't matter anymore, cause the battle is going to be here. The demons will arrive in a matter of minutes, and blood will be spilt because I did something stupid." He cast his eyes to the floor, crestfallen. "They're after Alexander's killer, me. I've put you guys in danger and I'm so sorry."

"Hey." A voice comforted Stiles as a soft arm snaked around his shoulders. It was Lydia. "It's ok, Stiles." She said, hugging him gently. "You saved us, Stiles, 24 hours ago. You'll save us again. We'll get through it. I promise." Stiles buried his head into Lydia's shoulder, squeezing out the tears that threatened to spill.

There was a pause, before an interruption from Derek, of all people.

"I hate to break up the moment," he said, sounding like he really didn't hate to at all, "but I can smell the demons. They'll be here in a manner of minutes." Stiles immediately broke apart from Lydia, all business.

"Don't worry, Stiles, I prepped the loft, in case the fight did go down here." Sam said. Stiles raised his eyes to the ceiling. Bingo. He grinned.

"It's perfect. Is everyone ready for a fight?" Stiles asked.

"Yes." Scott replied, startling everybody. The spell had worn off.

The rest of the pack nodded, and spread out across the expanse of the floor, Allison with her weapons, Chris with his guns, Sam and Dean with their hunting supplies, the werewolves with their werewolfitude, Stiles with the Colt, and Lydia with a... lead pipe? Whatever. Stiles thought. She's mainly going to be doing exorcisms anyways. A nudge from his shoulder made him look and see Chris standing next to him.

"Can I talk to you?" Chris asked, trying and failing to make it not sound like a threat.

"Now? Really?" Stiles replied. Chris rolled his eyes.

Yes. Stiles, are you sure you're ready for this? This isn't one demon. This is a battle that could start a war."

Stiles laughed lightly. "I'm a Winchester, Chris. I was born ready." Instead of calming his friend, however, Stiles' words seemed to do the opposite. Chris' eyes narrowed, and it was with great reserve that he spoke calmly.

"There's blood on that name, Stiles. On that family. I wouldn't wear it so proudly." Chris said ominously.

Stiles was about to reply when a grinding noise came from the door. It opened to reveal five demons, the one in front stepping forward with her long brown hair, taking in her surroundings. She smirked.

"Well, what do we have here?"

It was the same demon who had tied him up, Dean realized, that bitch in the black leather jacket, the purple shirt, and black jeans, looking at them all like they were adorable five year olds, and not hunters with the capacity to kill.

"You're the demon who kidnapped me." Dean said, more for the pack's benefit than for his. "You're Alexander's second-in-command." Behind Dean, Stiles looked shell-shocked.

"Was his second in command." She corrected, her horrible grin never leaving her face. "Now I'm just in command." She gestured behind her to the four male demons she commanded. They filed in behind her.

"What's your name, then?" Sam asked snarkily, gun raised and bitchface on. The demon, unfazed, only grinned wider.

"Stiles knows." She replied. Her eyes set on the boy. "He recognizes this vessel. We have the same name."

Sam and Dean looked at their brother expectantly.

"Meredith." Stiles whispered to himself. Then louder, to the room. "Meredith. I know her. She was in Mystic Falls. She's the doctor who patched me up after-" He paused. "But wait, that means-"

"I did my homework." Meredith said. "The moment Alexander was killed. I couldn't do much, not around here, but the last place anyone saw you not in Beacon Hills was Mystic Falls, Virginia. Imagine my surprise when I take a vessel there, do some digging, and find out that my bosses' killer is actually a Winchester."

"Now I remember you." Dean said. "You're the crazy blood chick." Meredith laughed.

"Well, not me, per se. But my vessel. Well, Stiles, are you still going to plan to kill me? If I die, then so does the doctor who saved your life." Meredith smiled, knowing she had him. Stiles, however, over the initial shock, was beginning to plot.

"The question is why you want to kill me, Meredith. You aren't upset that Alexander is dead." Stiles said. The pack looked on with dropped jaws. Meredith merely smiled. "Why would you be?" Stiles continued. "His death put you in power. He wasn't as smart as you. The whole demonic world is better without him. So why?"

"Politics." Meredith stated. "As well as survival. You Winchesters are a plague. You, Stiles, are more dangerous than you realize, and it'll send a message to Crowley. He has an unhealthy obsession with you Winchesters. If I want to knock him out of power, then I have to hit him where it hurts. Be it one hunter..." her eyes traveled to Sam and Dean in defensive stances. "Two, or three." She paused before continuing. "Do you know why Alexander came here in the first place?"

"Don't know, don't care, sweetheart." Dean said.

"You should. Alexander came here because he couldn't. Not until a week ago. You have a tree here, the nemeton. It draws supernatural beings. Not angels or demons, but creatures with souls, anything that goes to purgatory. When it's inactive, however, it's the opposite. Monsters aren't drawn to it, but angels and demons are repelled. It's like the world's best warding. Once that warding went away, a week ago, well, my boss noticed. He decided to make up for lost time." Meredith grimaced. "I told him he would draw attention. And I was right."

"Can we get on with this?" Dean asked. "I really can't stand the monologuing."

"Sure, Dean!" Meredith exclaimed with a wink. She turned to her demonic thugs. "Kill them all."

The thugs charged, brandishing weapons, but were met with a remarkable resistance. One of them was met with the Argents. Allison shot an arrow in his leg. He screamed in pain, but didn't stop advancing, instead tore it out of his leg. Allison shot another, and another, but the process kept repeating. So Chris punched him in the face. The demon laughed, and used his power to throw Chris against the wall and pin him there. Allison grabbed a canteen and uncapped it quickly. She threw it's contents at the the demon's face, dousing him with holy water. The demon howled as angry red burns covered his face, which allowed Chris to drop from the wall. He crept up behind the demon and pulled a taught black string over his neck. Then, making sure his windpipe was not cut off completely, he lowered the choking demon to the ground. The demon passed out, and Chris and Allison restrained it, restraining his hands with iron and holding him down inside a circle of salt. When the demon came to, his body could not move.

The second demon charged for Sam and Dean. "We don't get paid enough for this." Dean mumbled as he dodged the demon's punch. Sam clocked the demon in the face, who kicked Sam in the shin. Sam buckled and went down, while Dean kicked the demon swiftly in the stomach. The demon recoiled, but instead of being winded like a human would be, he quickly rebounded and charged. Dean blocked a series of punches thrown, before throwing his own, only to have those blocked. He kicked again, but the demon dodged him. Meanwhile, Sam came up from behind with the knife, and stabbed the demon in the leg. The demon grunted in pain and turned to face Sam, and Dean took this opportunity to execute a sweeping kick to the floor, knocking the demon's legs out from under him. The demon fell to the ground, and Sam and Dean rushed to incapacitate it. Sam stabbed him in the hand, and Dean locked his feet together with iron cuffs. Then they poured a circle of salt around him. The demon, held down, glared at them murderously.

"Can it, ugly." Dean snapped. "It ain't easy being mean."

Isaac was a little unprepared for when the third demon came charging at him. Luckily, Scott was, and he used his werewolf strength to catch the demon's momentum and throw him to the ground at Isaac's feet. Scott's eyes glowed red. Isaac shook his head. He would have to get used to that. Then the demon got up and attacked, and Isaac had more important things to worry about. He unsheathed his claws and swiped at the demon's head, but the demon was faster. He ducked, and the next thing Isaac knew he was on his back. Then Scott punched the demon in the face, but something was wrong. He hadn't shifted.

"Scott!" Isaac yelled over the din of the battle, getting to his feet as the demon charged for another attack, "Why haven't you shifted?"

"I can't!" Scott replied, dodging a blow from the demon. It was true. His eyes were red but he had no claws or fangs. "The darkness. I can't or I'll lose control!"

"Well this is a great time for the side effects of the sacrifice to kick in!" Isaac shouted.

"No." Scott corrected him. "It's been like this all week. But it's getting worse!" Isaac turned to look at his friend but that was his mistake. The demon tackled him, pinning him to the ground. Scott stood over the pair, trying to pull the demon off but it was no use. The demon punched Isaac in the face once, then twice, then again and again. Isaac yelled as he felt his nose break, blood pouring down his face. This is it. He thought. I'm going to die.

"Hey!" A booming voice sounded from across the room. Isaac, through his bloodied vision, could see as Dean ran up to the demon and stabbed him in the shoulder with a wicked looking knife. The demon's shoulder flashed orange as he screamed, and Isaac took the opportunity to scramble out from under him. The demon looked at Dean furiously, and Dean looked back, with the same ferociousness he had shown Isaac a day ago. And funnily enough, Isaac was no longer afraid. Not when he knew he could count on Dean to save him. Scott took advantage of the demon's distraction to spread a circle of salt around him. Then Dean, for good measure, knocked him to the floor.

The fourth demon glowered angrily as he was circled by two werewolves with piercing blue eyes. Derek and Peter swiped their claws at the demon as they circled, careful to avoid any fatal blows. As it was, the demon had scratched arms and legs, and still he advanced, with a growl to match any werewolf. He fought Derek and Peter with excellent kicks and punches, at a speed that had them struggling to block and reciprocate. Amidst the whirl of limbs, one of the demon's large hands found it's way around Derek's neck, and he squeezed, lifting the former alpha off of the ground. It was at moments like these where Derek really missed his alpha strenght. Well this sucks. He thought. Instead of getting killed by the demon wolf, I get to be killed by a demon. Progress. Derek's vision was blackening as his air supply was cut off, but he saw the demon using his free hand to fight off Peter. Then, in a whirl of fiery red hair and a dull thwacking sound, Derek was on the floor, released from the demon's grasp. As he caught his breath, he looked up to see Lydia Martin, in all her glory, standing over the fallen demon with a lead pipe raised in the air. She must have hit him on the back of the head.

"I'm not useless, you know." Lydia quipped, laughing at Derek's dumbfounded expression. Then she quickly spread out the salt she was holding in her other hand, ignoring Peter's impressed expression.

Meredith went straight for Stiles. She did not run, she walked purposefully, taking safety in the surrounding chaos. She knew that everyone else would be too busy fighting her demons to protect the youngest Winchester. As Meredith advanced, Stiles backed up, eyes wide, until he was flush against the back wall, Meredith mere inches in front of him.

"Drop the gun, Stiles." She said teasingly. "We both know you aren't going to shoot." Stiles obliged, the gun clattering to the floor. At first, the noise could not be heard over the cacophony. But then, just as the gun settled with a final ping!, it was met with silence. Slowly, Meredith turned around to see the pack and the Winchesters stare at her. Her demons were on the floor, incapacitated.

"It's over, Meredith." Stiles said from behind her. Meredith whirled to face him.

"It is far from over." She hissed. Or did you forget that my demons can possess new bodies. Or maybe that I have backup outside of the town." While she talked, Stiles walked around her to face her in front of his brothers and pack. She turned with him.

"Your demons are in salt circles." Lydia said. "They can't possess anyone." Meredith glared at Lydia. Lydia merely rolled her eyes.

"I am more powerful than you can imagine, banshee." Meredith spat. "I know tricks from the bottom of hell." She snapped her fingers, and the salt circles around her minions broke. "Find new bodies. Now!"

"Don't bother." Stiles said over her. "You'll find Beacon Hills completely empty. And you won't be able to leave, either. I evacuated the town. One quick phone call to the sheriff."

Scott ran out of the bunker, eager to draw a devil's trap. "Sam," Stiles said before following his friend, "a curfew won't keep the demons from possessing people. Call my dad, have him evacuate the town. With the hell it's been through, I'm sure no one would mind." Sam nodded and Stiles grabbed his spray paint cans and followed his friend out the door.

"You didn't finish your devil trap." Meredith said with a smirk. "What's to stop me from leaving?"

Stiles chuckled. "Besides us? A ring of salt around the entire town." Meredith's eyes widened and she began to shake with anger. "The devil's trap was a ploy. I knew it was a matter of time before a demon grabbed me or my brothers. So with all eyes on me, what's to stop a little werewolf named Isaac from running around with bags of salt?" Stiles shot a grateful smile to the beaten down beta.

"And me?" Meredith asked, venom in her voice.

Stiles smirked. "Come and get me." He taunted.

Meredith drew a knife from her boot. She charged, but after a few steps hit an invisible wall. She felt a drop on her hand, and when she looked at it she saw that it was a drop of shiny gold paint. Her eyes snapped up to the gold on the ceiling, and with a frustrated shriek at the devil's trap, Meredith threw her knife directly for Stiles' face.

It was due to years of training as a hunter that Stiles was able to drop to the floor, the knife sailing over his head and embedding itself into the wall far behind him. When he got back up, his demeanor had changed. Gone was the playfulness. In it's stead was a hunter with the wrath of a Winchester.

"Meredith," Stiles said slowly, "You deserve everything you're going to get." Lydia tossed him her cell phone, and Stiles quickly dialed a number before pressing it to his ear. "Dad, it's me. break the salt line." Then, Meredith's eyes widened in fear, as the King of Hell appeared in the doorway.

"Hello Meredith."

"Crowley." Meredith stammered. "I-I-I'm sorry." She was shaking now, a pitiful shadow of the mighty leader she once was.

"This is your own fault, Meredith." Stiles said, but there was no hostility in his voice, only cold detachment. "You got into this by hunting the Winchesters and that was your mistake. There is nothing I wouldn't do for my brothers, for my pack." Stiles narrowed his eyes. "There's blood on my hands because of that promise. So when the fires of hell are surrounding you, remember that." Stiles' eyes flashed in a way that no one had seen since he pulled a trigger.

"When a whole world of angels and demons are coming after you," Meredith retorted, her eyes equally angry, "You remember that the blood is soaked into your name."

"Spare me." Crowley muttered. He walked over to the embedded knife in the wall and threw it at the ceiling, breaking the gold devil's trap. Meredith still stood motionless. "Meredith," Crowley continued, "you have committed treason. You have lead a faction against my rule. Your sentence, and theirs," he gestured to the other four demons, "will be decided once you join me in hell. Now, Miss Martin, if you please?"

Lydia jumped, started to be addressed directly by Crowley, but nevertheless cleared her throat. "Exortius omniste, omnis imundus spiritus, omis satanica potestas..."