Derek and the Pack

After the initial panic, and once the pack was settled in Derek's home, the weary wolves watched their unsteady alpha pace before them. It was clear that Derek was tired, and that the…whatever it was had hurt him just as much, if not more than it had them. But he refused to back down, to take it sitting.

"Derek," Peter spoke, he was watching his nephew pace like a caged animal, and the simile was very close to the truth. "Derek," Peter spoke louder, hoping to break him from his silent thoughts.

Derek snarled and turned to look at his uncle, his eyes bleeding red. "What?" he snarled.

"You know what happened, you need to tell them." Peter spoke calmly, raising his arms to show the alpha that he meant no harm.

"We can't know it for sure."

"Derek"

"NO" He roared.

His roar scared the resting betas and made Isaac violently, Derek felt a twinge of guilt but refused to back down. Peter looked at his nephew, the grief was nearly toxic, coming off him in potent waves, drowning out any other smell, or emotion that he might have been feeling.

Before they were able to get into it, the lift dinged a warning, and Deaton walked in. He was pale, his hands were shaking but he seemed determined.

"YOU IDIOT" Deaton roared, his voice was hoarse and it was clear that he was scared, terrified even. "Because of your inability to see what is right under your alpha nose, you let something precious slip away, something that has the potential to being the destruction of everything we hold dear." Deaton bit his lip, ruby blood welled from the wound.

Derek stared at the usually placid man with a raised eyebrow, he wasn't sure how to react to that. Peter was the one who responded for his nephew.

"How can there be destruction? Stiles is dead."

Isaac crumpled against Boyd, his heartbeat told them that he had passed out, while Scott stood with a weak snarl.

"What do you mean, dead?" Scott clenched his hands, and released, his stance was staggered.

"The agony you felt, that was the repercussions of losing a powerful pack member," Deaton explained, having gained some control over his emotions once more. "But," he turned back to the alpha and Peter, "Stiles died, the loss was felt painfully to all who have ever had contact with him. Yet he still lives."

The silence and surprise was palpable.

"Stiles is the strongest resurrection of magic that has ever been recorded, the last person who had the power, was Merlin himself. So, the magic did as it has done for many years, it brought him back to life."

"What do you mean, 'as it has done'?" Scott asked, sitting back down, wearily. A hand absently started to rub Isaac's shoulder, Isaac was still unconscious.

"Stiles, more than likely was dead, or dying when the Magic found him, and it brought him back. He more deaths he experience the more likely he is to be the Natural state of Magic, and eventually, the Stiles we hold dear will no longer exist. The pain you felt was the loss of Stiles as a pack mate."

"So Stiles is still alive?" Isaac's shaky voice seemed to echo through the room.

"Yes,"

"Why do I feel a 'but'?" Peter questioned.

"You have another problem."

"What is it?" Derek was barely able to keep the growl from his voice.

"There is an Alpha pack headed this way."

Stiles

The Alpha pack moved with a fluidity that even the most practiced dancers wouldn't be able to accomplish. I all but drenched myself in a type of wolf repellant that Nara and I concocted, and I prayed that I would not be found. But of course, praying seems to be a worthless exercise for me. Their leader paused at the base of my tree, I carefully shuffled deeper into the foliage and all but held my breath. His head snapped straight to my location, his unseeing eyes locked onto mine. A feral smile crossed his face and he motioned to the other members to fetch.

Or, at least I'm pretty sure he said something like that, because they were climbing my tree that would put Edward Cullen to shame. I spun around and started to race through the braches, swinging like Tarzan and keeping my balance like a squirrel. I could feel them slowly getting closer, I was quickly becoming desperate. I didn't want to be caught, I didn't want to lose my virginity to some over bearing, power hungry ass hat. But the trees only went for so far, and I found myself literally between a rock and a hard place, a tree in this case. I gave in and turned to search for the pack, only to see them maybe fifty feet out and if their grins were anything to go by, they thought they had me cornered.

I glanced at my bum leg, and the cliff, and I started to climb. Fingers and toes digging into the smallest of cervices, I climbed as quickly as I could. Sweat made my back itch, or maybe it was all the eyes watching me. I looked upwards to gauge how much more, only to see the smirking face or a crouching Alpha, waiting for me. Breath hitching, I looked down and saw the wolves standing at the bottom, smirking. Damn, I had been herded into a corner. I glanced at them, and hugged the wall, one of them was talking, but I didn't even attempt do decipher what they were saying, probably some bull of how they didn't want to hurt me.

I tensed my muscles, and focused where I wanted to go, like how JK Rowling explained to muggles how the magic folk apperated, and I sincerely hoped she knew what she talking about. With that, I launched from the wall, eyes clenched shut, body arching, the sickening feeling of a free fall, I didn't feel anything other than the free fall. Opening my eyes I saw that I had apparently been running along the edge of a rather large, and impressive valley. I was going to die. I wonder if I would wake up, because this was going to be a rather nasty death.

Oh G-

Its short but its something, I'm finally getting to the meat of the story. I hope you guys are still liking it, feel free to critique, ask for something or give me another idea. Love ya guys! stay warm. Until then - Adieu!