Me: Sup guys! I should be doing homework but here I am updating. In my defense it doesn't make much sense and I can do it in class soon.
Stiles: It's not that difficult.
Me: Shut up smarty pants. Also Derek was never taken by Kate and therefore never ended up in his teenage form (I loved that whole thing but it doesn't really work in terms of the plot here) and Liam is already bitten by the time Barry goes back to Beacon Hills (however Barry hasn't met Liam)
Disclaimer Here → Blah, blah, blah, everything.
3rd Person POV
Apparently Roy had 'died' when Stiles was away. Which meant that he, like the Bat kid that just gave him a smirk when asked his name (but Roy had told him later that he had died at the hands of the Joker), was legally dead. That was going to get them some odd looks, especially since every in Star knew Roy's face. Him being the Green Arrow meant his face was plastered everywhere for a long time, making it difficult to hide.
"What's with the whole white streak?" Stiles asked the Bat's kid, playing with his quarterstaff as his pack interrogated Oliver.
"Lazarus Pit, brought me back," Bat's kid growled, "When are we going again Roy?"
Cheeks flooding with color, Stiles looked down. While he had never met Batman, or any of the other kids, he knew of them. Only two had died, both had returned. While one was a lot younger, Stiles also wasn't sure their actual identities. Batman was very thorough when it came too keeping their identities a secret. He was certain he could figure it out if he only was able to go to Gotham and actually manage to piece together all the information.
"We can go now," Roy replied with a smile, "Let me just say bye to Stiles."
"I'll wait outside," Bat kid replied.
"You just want to smoke."
There was no reply, except getting flipped the bird, as Bat kid left. Roy rolled his eyes and sat down next to Stiles. For a while there was only silence.
"If you need anything, call me or Jay," Roy replied.
"Jay?" Stiles asked, "And I don't have your number."
"Jason Todd, Robin II. Also known as Red Hood. And I got Felicity to put our phone numbers in your phone, without you knowing," Roy smirked slightly, "It wasn't that difficult. Jason might seem harsh, but he's really just a fluffy bunny and if you need help he will be there."
"Thanks Roy."
"Don't mention it. I gotta go before Jason leaves or fills the car up with cigarette smoke. Dude dies once and thinks he's immortal," Roy grumbled as he walked out of the apartment.
A small snort escaped him. Yeah, he knew what that was like. Peter was like that sometimes too, though usually he tried to avoid those situations. Most would think dying once would be enough for people to be more careful. But no, they just had to think they were immortal and put themselves in risky situations.
He met Oliver in the Foundry later, leaving his friends in the hands of Felicity. It was with a promise to come by later and actually hang out once they toured Star.
"Stiles, you gonna train or what?" Oliver called, holding his own quarterstaff.
"How about escrima sticks?" Stiles suggested, standing up.
"Jack of all trades, master of none kinda thing?" Thea said, "How about master of all?"
Stiles just shrugged in response, "Need to become a Jack of all trades first don't I?"
"Touche."
"Laurel," Oliver called, the young woman looking up and walking over, "You train with escrima sticks? Best to start Stiles small and work up?"
"Are you saying I'm an easy target, because you are wrong," Laurel snapped.
A small snicker escaped Stiles at the barely noticeable terror on Oliver's face. Who knew that he was secretly scared of angry woman. Though, Stiles reflected with a wince, all the girls he knew were scary when angry too. Honestly it was probably a good idea to be scared of them. Girl's were, are,… horrifying when they're mad. Any smart guy would be scared.
"Not what I meant Laurel," Oliver said easily, still looking scared if only too Stiles, "You use them more than I do at any rate."
"Alright," Laurel agreed, pulling them out of her boots and sashaying over to Stiles, "Do you need any?"
Pulling out his quarterstaff Stiles ordered the mountain ash to shift. The wood separated down the middle and shrunk down into the size of escrima sticks. It felt like an extension of his arm and he silently hoped that it would be easy to do. Silently Laurel fixed his positioning, which wasn't much different than how it was using a quarterstaff. At least if he had to switch in the midst of battle it would be easier.
"Raise your hands, almost like a fist fight," Laurel ordered, "There you go."
Without warning Laurel began to fight. Raising the escrima sticks in defense, her own striking against his, Stiles dodged. Strike after strike came at Stiles and he dodged as well as he could. There was no way for him to put his own strike in, Laurel raining strikes on him. Eventually he found an opening and swung his foot, hitting her in the side. Laurel grunted and he began to rain his own strikes on her, adapting quickly. Before he could land a winning blow Laurel swiped his legs out from under him. A forearm pressing against his throat.
"I yield," Stiles sighed, pushing gently on her forearm.
"You're good," Laurel complemented, "There is always something to improve on however."
"Even if you are the best on the world, you can always improve," Oliver agreed, crossing his arms.
Groaning softly Stiles returned to his feet, rubbing his sore neck. No wonder Oliver was scared of Laurel, she knew just where to hit for it to hurt. Briefly he wondered where she had learned it before brushing that thought away. While he hadn't personally met Sara, he had heard a lot from the original team Arrow. All good things too, so he assumed Sara had at least taught some to Laurel.
"How did you learn that?" Stiles asked, collapsing onto a random chair (Felicity's normal spot) and spinning in a circle, "Oliver definitely didn't train you. Too feminine fighting for that."
"Feminine?" Laurel sounded offended.
"Not a bad thing. But Oliver is very brash and manly in his fighting. Nothing like you."
A grin flashed across Laurel's face and she sent a small smirk to Oliver. It was around this time that Stiles realized just what time it was. Yelping he jumped it his feet, ignoring the aches spreading across his body. Oliver snickered softly and Stiles flipped him the bird as he rushed out of the Foundry and returned to the streets.
Only minutes later did he appear at a Big Belly Burger, where his pack was waiting for him. They were already eating, some food left on the side for him (including some curly fries, SCORE!). Slouching in the seat next to Derek, ignoring the small sting from his sore body, Stiles took a fry and put it between his lips.
"Sorry I'm late, Ollie sent Laurel at me. She's tougher then she looks," Stiles grumbled, chewing on the fry.
"He set Laurel on you?" Felicity exclaimed in shock, dropping her burger.
"Laurel?" Kira questioned.
"One of Oliver's exes, for good reason too. Ollie was a bit of a playboy when he was younger."
"They're still friends?" Scott asked, looking shocked.
Snorting, Stiles tried his best to cover it by eating another fry. Everyone glanced at him but didn't say a thing. Almost like they didn't think whatever he had to say was important.
"I wouldn't say that," Felicity conceded softly, "They're both kinda, walking on eggshells per say."
A knowing glance was sent Stiles way from Felicity and he rolled his eyes. That was kinda an understatement. They were each at each other's throats constantly. If one wasn't snapping the other one was. It was almost funny, but also kinda sad. There was so much UST in there, but there was also some between Felicity and Oliver. Honestly they all needed to get laid.
"Whatcha thinking about?" Derek whispered in his ear.
Stiles shivered at the warm air against his skin, "Mostly Laurel and Oliver's weird relationship."
"Really?"
Refusing to shiver again Stiles nodded, stuffing some more fries into his mouth. That way it was more difficult for them to get him into the conversation. Which was fine with him. Right now he was tired and sore and really just wanted to sleep. But mostly he was hungry.
"Stiles?" Lydia nudged him gently, breaking him out of his thoughts, "You know you have a burger too and not just fries?"
*******TWDCF********
A few weeks later they returned to Central City, just in time for their junior year. It had come too fast for Stiles too truly want. The summer had flown by too fast and he was unsure if he actually wanted too return to Beacon Hills. Going back to Beacon Hills opened up all the wounds once again, the wounds that had not fully healed. Heart feeling as though it was shattered into millions of pieces once again.
"You okay son?" Dad asked, leaning against his doorframe.
"Not really," Stiles admitted, sitting at his desk with the red ball of yarn between his fingers.
"You can talk to me if you ever need anything. But right now it's time for school."
"Joy."
Pushing back from the desk Stiles grabbed his key and backpack. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder Stiles ran downstairs and turned over his jeep. His precious jeep that did so much for him. Only moments later did he show up at school, parking the car and immediately going to the library. He would need some things there before he actually went into the school.
Going up the stairs Stiles scanned the names of the books. Nope, nope, nope, ah there it is. Pulling the book out he noticed one of the initials on the shelf. Pushing some of the books aside helped him read it more, D.H. Derek Hale? It was possible. What other D.H.'s are there in Beacon Hills? Not many. Much less ones that actually came to Beacon Hills. It was only as he stared at the initials that he realized just what the feelings he had for the werewolf. This feeling was a slap on the face and a slight blush appeared on his face.
"Well, this is new," Stiles muttered, quickly rushing to check out his book.
There was no way these feelings were mutual. All Derek saw him as was the spaz kid that got his best friend bitten by his uncle. Or even at best, a researcher. Barely even worth his attention. If there even were any feelings, it was probably something like little brother. How would it ever be anything along the lines of that kind of… feelings.
"Stupid Stiles, stupid," Stiles grumbled to himself, "Why did you have to do this? Falling in love with someone who can never love you back."
With that, he left the library. He'd have a freak out after school
**********TWDCF*********
More and more notes had been appearing in places that he knew Snart had been at. A few had even been showing up at his house, in his room. Each getting more and more suggestive and crude, a few causing a blush to spread across his face. The notes were hidden in his underwear drawer, stuffed in the back inside of a box. Stiles had given it too him, made of some kind wood and metal mix. Silver and lead if he remembered right, mountain ash wood too.
"Earth to Barry," Iris said.
They were walking down a small path. The day was over for them and they had decided to take a walk near the coast, still within Central City Park. It was one of the few days that he didn't have any Flash duties. Like the villains were all just taking the day off, for now at least. Who knew how long that was going to last.
"Barry," Iris repeated, "Are you even paying attention?"
"Sorry," Barry said, looking over at Iris, trying to see what he had seen in her just last year, "Lost in thought."
"Penny for them?"
"Just a case." Not one hundred percent of a lie, a lot of Snart's notes had shown up in his crime scenes, "Can't say too much about it."
"You and Dad with your secrets." She stopped in front of a park bench and looked over at Barry, "I'm a journalist, you can tell me things."
"I think that's exactly why I shouldn't tell you these things."
All he got in response was a small glare. Ignoring the glare he looked over at the water. There wasn't really anything interesting to look out over there, but it was better than looking at Iris. She was scary, girls were scary in general, but Iris was very very scary.
With the whole thing with Snart, the notes, the innuendos, the flirting during their fights, and more; Barry wasn't sure what his feelings for Iris were anymore. It wasn't the same as it had been just a year ago. That his feelings could change so much in such a short time. Maybe it was just how confusing everything has been lately.
"Barry?" A gentle hand rested on his shoulder, startling him. "Are you okay?"
Turning his head, Barry stared at Iris. Thoughts whirled around in his head. There was really only one way to know for sure. A way that he really hoped would not get him slapped. Hand cupping Iris' cheek, her silky hair covering the back of his hand. Confusion gleamed in her dark eyes, Barry starting to second guess himself. Taking a deep breath he leaned forwards, capturing their lips together. He wasn't sure what he expected in the kiss. Fireworks, sparks, something more than just lips on lips. There was nothing. He felt nothing for her.
Breaking the kiss apart Barry was ready to just lay down on the floor and have an existential crisis. All his life he'd been chasing after Iris. Now he had no feelings for her. Instead he was in love with a criminal, a villain. How messed up was he? A CSI, working for the police department, as well as the Flash, a superhero that fought against the man he was in love with.
"I've got to go," Barry said softly, mind whirling a thousand miles an hour.
He needed to talk to someone, Stiles wouldn't judge him as much as the others would. Especially when it came too this kind of thing. Joe was possibly the worst person to ever tell about this, Iris a close second. Speeding away before anything could happen, before she could say anything, Barry headed towards Beacon Hills.
Stiles was already there, sitting on the couch doing homework. Stopping in the middle of the living room Barry stomped out his burning shoes. All he got from Stiles was a raised eyebrow, the pencil hanging limply from his hands. Unsure of what to say Barry stood there awkwardly.
"Can I help you?" Stiles asked, a hint of snark in his tone.
"Umm…"
"I'm sure you didn't run I don't even know how many miles just to stand in my living room."
It was beginning to get awkward just standing there. Sitting down on the other couch, that was across from Stiles, Barry bounced his knee up and down. His younger brother dropped his pencil on the table, it rolling into the textbook on the table. Mind working on overdrive, noticing every single little detail. The minor tear in the couch, a loose thread on the end of Stiles sweatshirt, a worn spot on the floor, and even more.
"Barry," Stiles prodded.
"I don't even know… I thought." Barry put his head on his hands, the beginning of tears starting. "I'm not even sure anymore."
"What are you talking about?"
"I've always thought I liked Iris. But recently I've been starting to realize that I don't. I… I love someone else. I can't even have him."
"Him?"
"Kinda questioning my sexuality right now…"
"Who are you falling for Barry?" Stiles asked, leaning forward in his chair.
Fingering the sleeve of his sweatshirt, Barry refused to look at his younger brother. There was so much Stiles didn't know and even more that he was still piecing together. His brother was very smart, possibly even smarter than him at times, and it wouldn't take long for him to figure it out. It would only take him a few days, at most.
"Barry," Stiles repeated.
"Captain Cold, Leonard Snart. My nemesis," Barry whispered, rubbing at his damp eyes.
"It's okay to want something for yourself once in awhile. It's only human."
Nodding silently, Barry stared at his brother. It wasn't exactly what he needed. Honestly he wasn't sure exactly what he needed, what he was looking for when he came to his younger brother. Yet it seemed that something inside him was fixed and he was feeling a lot better now. No longer was he having an internal freakout (well… it wasn't as bad as it had been before).
"Besides," Stiles continued with a small smirk, "You should see the Flash's top ships on the internet. You and Cold do have quite a bit of smutty fanfictions out there."
"Stiles!" Barry exclaimed, face turning red.
"You should really look into them. And I suggest never even looking at the Flarrow stuff if you want to be able to look at Ollie in the eye ever again." Stiles just wouldn't shut up would he? "However I do have to ask…"
Barry fled the scene before the sentence could even finish. Laughter followed him out the door.
**********TWDCF**********
Instead of returning to Central City, Barry decided to hang around in Beacon Hills for a bit. There weren't any pressing matters in Central at the moment, though Stiles would disagree, and even if there was he could be there in two minutes at the latest. It wasn't a school day either, so him and Stiles were free. Thankfully Stiles had dropped the whole… fan thing. That at least made it bearable. The knowledge of… that wouldn't leave him now. Instead it lingered in the back of his mind, just there. Not the first thing, but not the last. Right now they were hanging out at the Sheriff's station, their Dad out on a case. Stiles had deemed it normal, a head-on collision on the road. Not fatal thankfully, but it was pretty bad.
"Hi," a gruff voice said.
Next to him Stiles turned, shock covering his features. Turning slightly as well Barry noticed Derek standing there, a smile on his face. Scoffing Barry shook his head before drinking his coffee. Both were so oblivious, it was adorable.
"Hey," Stiles fiddled with a pencil and gave Derek a small grin, "You remember Barry right?"
Derek only nodded and Barry felt like he was intruding on an intimate moment. Yet at the same time he was sure Stiles would kill him later if he actually left the two alone. And gross, what would they get up too if he left? This was their Dad's office after all. That was disgusting, he needed brain bleach now.
"I'm going to get more coffee," Barry replied.
"Get me some?" Stiles asked.
"You don't need anymore coffee."
Stiles stuck his tongue out at Barry. Rolling his eyes Barry brushed by Derek, giving him a small glare, before walking out of the Sheriff's office. Once he got outside he quickly ran to a coffee shop, grabbed himself some coffee (sue him he was tired, it'd been a long couple of days), before leaving again. On the way back his phone rang.
"Yeah?" Barry said, putting the phone on his shoulder and pressing it against his ear.
~Where are you?~ Stiles asked.
"Leaving the coffee shop," Barry replied, shielding himself from the wind that was starting to blow, "Why?"
~Dad's in trouble~
"What's going on Stiles?" The wind was blowing harder now and Barry was silently wondering why that was.
~The Benefactor. The car crash was caused by two hunters, mercenaries actually, looking for Parrish. They took Dad… Parrish got away. Dad… he… he umm~
"Sacrificed himself." The wind stopped suddenly and Barry nearly fell do to the lack of pressure against him, "Are you having weird weather too?"
~It's a little odd. Deaton says it's the Nymphs and Dryads starting to freak out due to all the mercenary hunters around~
Without the wind it was a lot easier to hear Stiles. The panic in the other boys voice was lessening due to talking to him, which was a good thing. There was no need for him to be panicking or go off on his own with a half-baked plan. Glancing around him Barry went into an alleyway, silently wondering if it would be worth it to possibly let his villains know that he was in Beacon Hills right now.
"Alright. Makes sense I guess." Not really. "Are you at Deaton's right now?"
~Yeah, Derek took me here. Parrish is here too. I think Scott, Liam, and Malia are on their way. Lydia and Kira are still at the lake house.~
"Tell Derek thanks, though he can probably hear me. Umm, who's Liam?"
Barry had taken the time last time he was in Beacon Hills to get to know all the shortcuts, which he was now taking. The Vet's Office wasn't that far away from where he was and there was no way he was bringing his villains to Beacon Hills. None at all. It'd be best for him to stay under the radar for now. Unless they absolutely needed him to save his dad.
~You haven't met him yet. He's Scott's beta, bit him to save him from falling off a roof. It's a long story… when will you be here?~
"Almost there, just gotta cross the street."
Opening the doors to the vet clinic Barry entered the room. Hopefully his secret identity would stay secret a bit longer. While he may know about werewolves and stuff, not exactly his favorite thing to know, they didn't know about him. He hoped it would stay that way. Hanging up the second he got inside Barry was ushered into the back by, who he assumed, was Deaton.
"Mr. Allen, it's been a few years," Deaton said, even as Stiles tackled his brother in a hug, "You probably don't remember me."
"Sorry," Barry replied, returning Stiles' hug, "So what's going on? What's this about a Benefactor?"
"The Benefactor was funding mercenaries with stolen money in order to kill off the supernatural in Beacon Hills. We know who did it and she's been arrested and put away. But the money is still out there and we can't stop it yet! They're using him as bait," Stiles exclaimed.
"We found a note," Derek continued, resting a calming hand on Stiles' shoulder.
Please not another note from Cold. It was bad enough he knew who Barry really was but it was another thing to kidnap their Dad, or leave a note at the scene of the crime. Thankfully it wasn't, written in an unfamiliar handwriting but obviously a females. Narrowing his eyes Barry read the note.
If you want the Sheriff back you'll give us the Hellhound. No funny business. Every hour without the hound we'll cut into him. Every day and he loses a finger, then his toes. Once he's out of fingers and toes we'll slice his throat.
Much love,
The Sirens
Blood was stained on the note and immediately the CSI part of Barry started working over time. Moving to the operating table Barry set down the note before going through the cabinets, pulling out what looked to the others to be random drugs and chemicals but was really specific things. Then he grabbed the rest of what he needed and turned to Stiles.
"You wouldn't happen to have anything that we know was stained with Dad's blood?" he asked.
"Uh…" Stiles looked at Derek for help.
"There was so much blood at the scene I couldn't tell whose was whose," Derek replied with a small shrug, "And with all the conflicting smells on the note, I can't tell if it was Sheriff Stilinski's or not."
Sighing softly Barry set down the chemicals before looking over at Derek with narrowed eyes. This note didn't say where to go to deliver the hellhound, just said to deliver the hellhound. They didn't want the note to state where to find them in case the police got their hands on it. Mind working quickly Barry cocked his head to the side at Derek.
"What do you smell?" he asked.
"What?!"
"What. Do. You. Smell."
"Blood, charcoal, gas, lemons, metal," Derek started listing off.
"Lemons?"
It seemed Stiles was following his train of thought, brushing past Deaton to grab a box of matches. Why the vet had a box of matches was unknown to Barry but he was glad for it. Lighting a match Barry held it underneath the paper, not close enough for it to catch fire but close enough for it to heat up. Sure enough a hidden note appeared on the paper.
Abandoned Railroad Station, you know where it is.
"Where is that?" Barry demanded, not having found it on his 'tour' of Beacon Hills.
"Derek?" Stiles glanced over at the beta werewolf, "You wanna take this one?"
A low growl escaped Derek, "It's where my headquarters were when I was an alpha. I trained my pack there."
"I'm going to get him," Stiles picked up the quarterstaff that Oliver gave him.
Almost immediately Barry felt a rush of fear go through him. It was completely irrational, he knew from experience that Stiles could take care of himself, but the thought of him going off alone. Before Derek could say anything, and Barry knew he was gearing up to, Barry cut him to the chase.
"Not without me you aren't," Barry told him, crossing his arms, "For all we know it's a trap."
"It's the only lead we have!" Tears were brimming in his younger brother's eyes and Barry felt like an absolute bastard. Which he kinda was thinking about it, but like… in the actual sense of the word.
"I know, okay? Believe me I know. But do what Ollie taught you if you really want to do this. Better safe than sorry. Be smart."
Barry tapped his brother's temple, watching him take a deep brother and let it out slowly. Smiling a little Barry patted his shoulder as his brother nodded. Now there was the smart brother he knew. The one that didn't dart head first into situations without a plan (that one time with Sylvia didn't exactly count, though he was fairly certain Stiles had part of a plan).
"Alright, agree?" Barry asked.
Stiles nodded silently, swallowing deeply. It looked almost like Stiles didn't trust his voice, which Barry could understand. Whenever he got like this his voice broke and he never sounded like he truly meant whatever he said. Multiple times it had gotten him into awkward situations. Briefly he wondered if something like that was genetic.
"Let's get going," Barry replied.
"You don't have a weapon," Derek reminded him, his arms crossed.
"I have my teeth. Come on Stiles."
***********TWDCF********
Everything was a blur, the fight with the Sirens, blood on his hands, the ride to the hospital. He wasn't sure what happened, if the Sirens were even still alive. At one point, during one of the clearer moments that he remembered, Barry had been holding his wrists gently. A damp towel running over his hands and fingers, gently cleaning up the blood. It was a dark towel, so he couldn't see the blood gathering on it, but he could see the blood on his hands disappearing. Without his knowledge his other hand, still bloody, reached over and grabbed his brother's wrist. Barry didn't say anything, squeezing Stiles' wrist that was in his hand, and just continued to clean that hand off.
"What happened?" Stiles croaked.
"You got a nasty hit to the head, courtesy of one of the Sirens. She snuck up behind you as you went to Dad," Barry told him, gently removing Stiles' hand from his wrist and moving to clean that hand.
"And?"
There was a brief moment of silence, "The Sirens shot themselves when they realized that the police were on their way. Remember we called them when we found Dad. They shot Dad too, it would have been fatal too if you hadn't stopped the bleeding. That's why you have blood on your hands by the way."
"Is he okay?"
"He's in surgery right now. But he should be fine."
That answer hadn't lifted any of the weight off of his chest, but it was better than the other answer that was floating around in his head. Now all he had was a pounding headache, lessened a bit due to the icepack that he was pressing against it. A few minutes ago Dad woke up and Barry had informed him of what had happened. Needless to say he wasn't happy and Stiles was sure that his headache was only going to get worse.
"I'm the dad," he pointed to himself, "You're the son," he pointed to Barry and Stiles.
Barry shook his head slightly, moving closer, "Dad-"
He was cut off, "I take care of you."
Stiles watched as his brother looked away, eyes wet and swallowing deeply. There were multiple reasons he could think of that would garner a reaction like that from Barry. All of them connected to the Flash and probably had some things to do with him. While their Dad knew about werewolves, he didn't know of his son's other lives. The vigilante parts of it in particular. Where Stiles was only Nightbolt when he was with Ollie or Barry, and once with the Legends but no one needed to know about that (it wasn't like he had gone through time. He just helped them out with a quick anomaly a few weeks ago, pretending not to notice the ring on Snart's finger) Barry was the Flash just about every single day. Only getting brief breaks when he was in Beacon Hills (and even then he had to leave to the be the Flash)
"We're supposed to take care of each other." Stiles flashed his eyes up to his brother and dad, knowing he probably looked like death warmed over.
That was what happened when he had a panic attack. Judging by how gentle Barry had been with him, he was fairly certain he had one. Which would explain how exhausted he felt, the slight shaky feeling he had, and even the cold.
Barry's eyebrows rose slightly, obviously conceding Stiles' point, before swallowing and nodding. It seemed both had given up, his Dad leaning back in the bed and staring at the ceiling with Barry looking close to breaking. Squeezing his brother's hand Stiles curled up in bed. Maybe a nap would be good for him. Yeah. That sounded okay.
******DREAM******
Creeping through the vents, much like he did at Oliver's apartment, Stiles looked through a grate. Tied to a post was his father, and there didn't seem to be any Siren's nearby, unconscious. A shaky exhale left Stiles and he gently pulled the grate up and out of the vent, laying it across from him. Slipping out, feet first, Stiles dropped to the ground. The mountain ash quarterstaff unraveled itself from his arm, forming in his hand. Glancing around Stiles didn't see anyone still, no Sirens, no Barry, no other possible captured prisoners.
"Dad," Stiles whispered, rushing to his side.
His father was conscious, eyes wide staring at him. A gag was over his mouth and Stiles worked at getting it out. Barry was here somewhere, hopefully calling the police. There was a camera, barely noticeable, attached to his collar. They had agreed no communication, someone might hack the radio, but a camera was much less likely to be caught.
"The police are on their way Dad," Stiles promised, once he got the gag off.
"Look out!" his Dad exclaimed, a second later Stiles felt wood connect with his head.
Everything was going in and out of focus now. It felt like he was underwater, blood rushing through his ears. A gunshot rang out and his Dad cried out in pain. Dad. He was hurt. Stiles crawled over to him, pressing his hands against the bullet wound. Blood squished between his fingers, coating his hand in the red vital liquid. It seeped between his fingers and Stiles pressed firmer. Another gunshot rang out, a thump echoing behind him. The Siren shot herself.
"STILES! DAD!" Barry exclaimed, rushing over to his side.
Blood seemed to be flowing freely from the bullet wound. Tears blurred Stiles' already unfocused vision. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his brother's shaky hand press against his Dad's neck, checking for a pulse. A second later the hand pulled away, looking down sadly.
"He's gone," Barry whispered.
"NO! YOU'RE LYING! DAD! DAD! NO!"
Another gunshot rang out, Barry falling forward limply. A clean shot straight through his head, blood dribbling out of it. Horrified Stiles fell backwards, bloody hands covering his mouth in horror. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the blood on his hands. Turning to see who shot Barry, he saw himself. Gun in hand, blood splattered on his clothes and face. The worst part was, his other self seemed calm. As though he had not a care in the world. Acting like he hadn't just killed his own brother.
"No," Stiles whispered, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, "NO! GET OUT OF MY HEAD! GET OUT!"
"Stiles!" his other self exclaimed, but that was his brother's voice. "Stiles!"
*********DREAM*********
A choked sob escaped his lips, eyes opening suddenly. Above him his brother loomed, face concerned. It took a bit for him to fully calm down enough to realize where he was. This wasn't the hospital.
"Barry?" Stiles voice cracked and he internally winced.
"I'm right here, you okay?" Barry asked, brushing some of Stiles' hair off of his forehead.
Subtly leaning into the touch, okay maybe not so subtly because Barry shifted closer and silently pulled Stiles into him, Stiles chose not to answer. There was no way he could lie to Barry, not convincingly enough at least. Not right now. There was no way. So he stayed silent, soaking in his brother's touch.
"Stiles," his brother prodded gently, tightening his grip around him.
"Dad'll be okay right?" Stiles chose to say instead, hiding his shaking hands between his legs.
"He'll be fine. I'm more worried about you."
"I'll be okay. I promise."
But how much of a lie was that?
Please Read the Author Note since it has to due with Allison's return. You can skip to the Caps of Allison's name if you don't want to read my ranting.
Me: SOOOOOOOOO, timeline is going to be a bit skewed from her but trust me. It's gonna all work out. Maybe. This is the part that is a bit difficult for me to right and I think in the next part Allison will show up again (Yay!) but so far I'll give you what I'm thinking.
!ALLISON NOTICE HERE!
Allison is going to come back, but with Roy and Jason probably. Due to Jason's connections with Talia (for those of you who don't know who that is she's Nyssa's older sister and the mother of Damian Wayns (most recent Robin (as far as I know) and the only biological son of Batman (currently) who is kinda annoying and only likes Nightwing) they found out about Allison still being alive. Rha's thought that she'd be a good addition to his assassin's and brought her back to life using the Lazarus Pit. Only issue is she can't kill the one that killed her because she has no access to the Oni that killed her. Good news, she already had darkness surrounding her soul and therefore she doesn't have the bloodlust, yay! Bad news, she can't stay in Beacon Hills since she's dead. Basically she's taking the place of Kori (who I don't actually know a lot about) in the Outlaws. So yeah… that's how I'm thinking I'm gonna bring her back. Plus it gives Jason more of a reason to actually be in the story rather than just due to my whims. Thoughts?
!ALLISON NOTICE END!
Review Request Here - That author note is actually important so if you skipped it...