Hi there! I know, it's been too long, but my muse disappeared until i rewatched Teen Wolf and got it back somewhat. I'm not particularly happy with this chapter, but for now it's all i got, so i hope you don't hate it too much. Upping the angty warning, okay? Cause i'm pretty sure it's all downhill for a while from here. Let me know how you find it? :)
Stiles had dissolved into just screaming. Words failed her as she screamed and cried, pounded her fists against Derek in an attempt to get away from him. The pack stood and watched in horror and pain as she began to lose herself to it. Voice hoarse, still screaming, as the sounds turned from pain to fear and Derek could tell she was falling into memories again.
"No." She whispered, caught once again against Derek's chest. The screaming stopped, but the next almost wish it had continued. "No. You can't do this to me anymore." She had whispered, eyes closed tightly, body rigid and tense. An unusual scent filled the air, coming from Stiles' frozen body, as the veins in her wrists flooded a deeper blue. Her eyes opened, but there was none of the Stiles they knew there. Gently, she pulled back from Derek and he let her go, shocked at the change.
"You won't hurt us, or them, anymore." The scent grew stronger the more rigid Stiles body became until it exploded from her. It smelt like darkness and pain, suffering and determination and desperate need. Magic born of self preservation mixing with selflessness. It didn't touch the wolves other than a scent and a hard shiver, but the windows shattered, the light bulbs exploded, he could hear books from shelves falling from somewhere inside the house and the TV flickered incessantly. There was clattering in the kitchen and a choked squeak from Isaac.
"Urm, Derek. There are knives floating in the kitchen doorway." Isaac whispered, edging further towards his Alpha. Derek turned panicked, confused glance behind him to look at the knives that were hovering in the kitchen before turning his attention back to Stiles. She was still lost inside her mind, shaking with the obvious effort it took to keep up this level of power. Power he didn't even know she possessed.
"Just- Don't move too quickly or panic too much. We need to talk her out of this." He took a tiny step towards Stiles, arm outstretched, and her eyes snapped towards him. Still empty, nothing that was Stiles was left inside that dead stare.
"Stop. You are not allowed to hurt us. Not them. Not again." Derek shook his head, taking another small step towards her. The scent grew stronger, vases and pictures falling from their places around the room.
"Stiles. No one in this room is going to hurt you. It's Derek, and you're safe. They're gone, remember? They can't ever hurt you again. They can't hurt any of us again." The non-Stiles tilted her head to the side, considering him, before she directed more of the power towards him. What was once uncontrolled power seemed to be falling into control and he needed to bring her back from this before she was lost completely.
"Don't. Stiles, come on. You know I'm not going to hurt you. It's me, it's Derek."
"I won't fall for your tricks again." She hissed at him as he took another step towards her, pushing through the barrier of magic he was being hindered by.
"No tricks. It's really me. Come on Stiles. Gwyn. Come back to us." The darker colour of her veins faded slightly at her mothers nickname for her, a small spark of Stiles coming back from deep within her.
"Derek." Stiles whimpered before the magic took hold of her again, forcing her to take a step back from him. "No. Not Derek. I won't fall for this." At least he had an opening now, a way to get through to her.
"Gwyn. You're safe. It's really me. Derek. The pack is here. Lydia, Jackson, Boyd, Erica, Danny. Your Isaac is here, Gwyn. He's safe. We are all safe." Isaac whimpered behind him, sobs breaking free, and Danny wrapped his arms securely around the young werewolf in comfort. It was working though, the sound of Isaac whimpering and keening for Stiles to come back, the use of her name. The veins flickered between dark and light, recognition and spark filling her back up at she came back to them. Consciousness returned to her as the scent rescinded. The scent of her fear, pain and exhaustion filled the air again and as horrid as that was, Derek was almost relieved. She was back from wherever his Stiles had gone.
"Derek." Stiles whimpered, shaking as she reached out to him with tears streaming down her face. He watched as her knee's buckled, reaching out for her. His arms caught her just as she fell, moments before she hit the floor and she was unconscious. Unresponsive. It panicked him, as he turned to his pack to find them frozen in fear behind him.
"W-what was that?" Isaac whispered, head cradled against Danny's chest, tears still smudging his face as he tried to calm his sobs. Derek shrugged, lost for words.
"We should take her to Deaton… Call her dad?" Jackson proposed and Derek nodded, just glad of a plan of action. He scooped Stiles' tiny form up into his arms, heading towards Danny's car. The Camero wasn't big enough for the entire pack to fit in and Danny had just bought a new SUV with his trust fund. Laying Stiles in the backseat after the door was opened, he climbed in with her, followed by Isaac and Danny smushing in as close as they could. The others squashed into the front, Jackson driving, as they headed towards their local mage and veterinarian.
Stiles shivered and twitched against him, cold in his arms, still unresponsive to touch or voice. Her skin seemed almost transparent, now pale veins visible through the pale skin, her heart beat slow and lazy, breathing shallow. Derek hated not knowing what was going on, not being able to assess and plan and act. Right now, with zero knowledge or any way to combat this new threat, he could do nothing and his wolf was twitching beneath his skin. It was making the other werewolves uneasy, but he couldn't pull it back, couldn't fight with the feeling of rolling unease in his stomach, the metaphysical scratching of a wolf contained to a cage. He growled at Jackson when he stopped at a red light until Jackson sighed and just kept driving. The Sheriff would have all fines dropped, given that Erica had called and let him know something had happened and he needed him to meet them at Deaton's.
It was another five minutes of driving almost double the speed limit, still too slow in Derek's opinion, before they reached the vets. Deaton was waiting outside for them like he was expecting this. Derek clambered out of the car with Stiles still cradled in his arms, getting colder and colder against him as shivers racked her unconscious body.
"I felt the magic from here." Is all Deaton says before leading them inside, and once again Derek is immensely grateful that Deaton is still the enigma he always was.
The pack, and Stiles' father, were gathered outside of an examination room. Relegated there once Stiles had been settled down onto a hospital bed that was set up in a very back room. Both Derek and the Sheriff were pacing as the others gathered together for comfort. They listened as Deaton moved around, heard his drawing blood, hooking up machines, tapping away at a keyboard and whispering things to himself. There was an increased thickness in the air for a moment that had Derek growling, unsettled and worried, before it dropped away and Deaton stepped out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.
"What has happened to my daughter?" John Stilinski demands, verging on manic, and Derek understands that. Barely keeping his own terror contained inside of himself. The pack was stood in a small semi circle behind them.
"Some recent event has triggered the latent spark inside of Stiles, and then added fuel to it. I don't know how, but she got lost inside a power she was not yet meant to possess." Deaton looks slightly more tired than usual, but his voice is still placating, his face pleasantly blank. Derek growls at him.
"Stiles is human. She doesn't have any latent spark!" The sheriff exclaims, hands clenched in frustration at his sides. The mage just smiles calmly at him.
"Stiles is a very strong spark, Mr. Stilinski. It just doesn't usually present this early, or this strongly, without training. I know you may think Stiles is merely a human, but cast your mind back to your wife. Did she ever seem able to know what you were thinking, or predict someone's actions, before they happened or before you spoke?" The Sheriff looks like someone has just hit him between the eyes with a hammer, eyes wide, head nodding without seemingly thinking about it.
"Yes, yeah. I thought she was just intuitive." He whispers, looking terrified and confused.
"Not quite. Just a dormant spark without training, passed on to Stiles. Something has triggered it, and I know about the recent actions committed by the rogue hunters, but had anything more happened recently?" The Sheriff directs his gaze to Derek, who drags his hands through his hair and down his face with a harsh exhale.
"She tried to jump of the top of my house last night, Jackson caught her. And she got into a massive argument with Scott because he wasn't there when she needed him. She started screaming as soon as he left, and then the magic kicked in." The Sheriff looks horrified, tears welling in his eyes as his breathing becomes heavy and painful. Gently, Isaac shifts forwards and tugs on his sleeve and guides him into a chair, explaining quietly what had happened in the background as the others continued to talk.
"Well, yes. That would trigger it on top of everything else. I am running some blood panels, hooked her up to some monitors and an IV. I've also shared some energy with her, in order to help her kick-start the replacement of her own. I think she should be much better by the morning, but one of you will need to stay with her tonight. She needs the extra supernatural energy to draw from and I can not offer her more of my own without risk." Derek just nods, turning to his pack and with a nod they know what to do. Take the Sheriff home, stay there. He would be staying, it was not up for debate. They return his nod and help the Sheriff to his feet, who shoots him a slightly grateful look. Derek knows the man has been painfully overwhelmed with everything that has happened, and Stiles would never forgive him if he let her father have a heart attack while she was unconscious. Once they have left, Deaton leads him into the room where Stiles is sleeping. Unusually still and quiet, covered in blankets and propped up on pillows. He's just glad that her heartbeat is back to normal and she seems less see-through. The visible veins under her skin are less prominent now. Derek hops up onto the bed, following instinct and pulling her gently into his arms, being careful of the wires and IV. Deaton watches them closely, usual blank face dropping into soft questioning, like he knows Derek has questions.
"Stiles was saying something, when the spark was working. About 'not getting us or them.' I'm sure the 'them' was the pack and the us referred to herself, but why the plural? Scott said something about her smelling healthy and sick at the same time. You don't think- they couldn't have gotten her- right?" Derek looks away from the mage's piercing gaze, moving Stiles' hand by instinct and wrapping her fingers around his wrist. It wasn't just her who had trouble sleeping without the grip now.
"I'm running bloods already. I will check, Derek. It should only be another hour before I get results, and I'm sure you and Stiles can deal with whatever comes your way." There is a sympathetic tinge to the mans voice that makes Derek think he believe she actually is- that she might have been left with a child conceived by force inside of her. It makes him shudder, trailing his free hand softly down her face and watching the way her eyelids twitched at the feeling, the way her head tilted slightly into his touch. He doesn't reply, doesn't have anything he can say to that. Instead he just settles this fragile human girl more comfortably in his arms and sets out to wait. Stiles is strong, she'll be awake before Deaton thinks, he's sure of it. And he needs to be ready for whatever is coming their way this time.
It's strange, thinking that a little over nine months ago the biggest worry in her life was the attack of an Alpha pack. There was no abusive hunters stealing things away from her that she could never get back, no lying to and avoiding of the pack. There was no PTSD moments, no thoughts of jumping off roofs, no latent magic flaring up at the betrayal of someone she once considered family.
There was no Deaton stood before her showing her a sheet of paper that told her that her hCG levels were high.
She almost wishes he and Derek would go back to explaining the huge flare up of magic and need for training as soon as she was ready. Wished she could go back to being unconscious and not know any of this, not remembering any of this. Back to a time when a magic vet wasn't showing her a stupid piece of paper that told her she was fucking pregnant.
"No. Can't be. It has to be a biological response to the stress and the abuse, the weight loss and the Adderall. Can't be- it's not- no." She manages to choke out, curling up onto herself as much as possible. Ignoring the pain flaring through her injuries, staying out of the way of Derek's arms. Arms she wants to fall into, cry into.
"Stiles-' Deaton begins gently. "You know those levels would be lower if it was those things, not higher. Do you remember the last date of your cycle?" He looks impassive, but she blushes and shoots an embarrassed glance at Derek. He just nods at her to answer the question.
"Four months ago." She whispers, arms wrapping tighter around herself. Derek inhales sharply and Stiles whimpers into her folded arms until he reached out and brushes warm, reassuring fingers along her protruding spine.
"This can't be happening." She sobs, turning her head to the side to look up at Derek. "Not- Not like this. Not by them." Finally, she gives into the overwhelming desire and climbs into arms she knows will be waiting for her, burying herself into the reassuring warmth of Derek.
"Shh, it's okay." He hushes her, rocking gently. "We can deal with this, just tell us what you want to do and we will do it." Derek keeps rocking her until the sobs subside and she can think clearly. It takes a while, but she looks up at Deaton, begging him with her eyes to tell her what to do.
"I would like to do an ultrasound, just to see how everything it, but this is your decision. You need to decided this, because it's your body. Whatever you want to do, it's up to you." She gives him a slight nod, staying within the comfort of Derek, and he leaves to gather the equipment. They don't say anything to each other, he just continues to rock her gently, hands careful in their placement. She sucks in a painful breath as the mage rolls in a portable ultrasound, instructing her to lay back on the bed and roll up her shirt and push her sleep pants to her hip bones. Derek helps her lay out, and she shudders as she reveals bruised, painful parts of her body to the room. Derek's eyes tighten at the sight, but Deaton remains impassive as he waits for her, gel in hand.
"Now, this is going to be cold. Okay?" She nods, biting her lip and looking away as he smears chilled gel onto her stomach. There is a click as the machine turns on and she still isn't looking at them, trying not to flinch as the transducer is lowered to her skin, smoothing the cold gel across her abdomen as Deaton searches the screen for whatever it is he is looking for.
"Huh." Is all Deaton remarks, but it's enough to garner her interest and she turns back to the screen with trepidation. The wand is pressing hard into her body, making her want to tremble and fight her way back from the almost memory of too hard fingers against her body.
"What is it?" Derek questions, reaching out for her hand which she gives gratefully, gripping to him with all her strength.
"I can see it, almost, but it's blurry. I think you're still engaging the spark, just to protect the foetus." Stiles shudders, closing her eyes against the tears.
"From what I can see, you're about 17 weeks along, Stiles. A little over four months. Have you had any symptoms?" She shakes her head lightly, tears freeing themselves from beneath her lashes.
"How am I supposed to know when the migraines, cramps and nausea are caused by the attacks or by.. That?" The vet has no reply for that, instead turning off the screen and handing her some paper towels to wipe away the gel as he pushes the machine away. He turns back to her with a serious expression.
"I know this is a lot to take in, Stiles. But you need to decide what you want to do soon, legal limit of abortion is twenty four weeks in California which gives you seven weeks to decide. However, the longer you wait, the more traumatic it can be." Stiles shivers, tears drying in her eyes as she looks up to Derek. He looks pained, eyebrows drawn tight, the shine of tears in his eyes, mouth drawn in a straight line as he battles his emotions.
"I don't know what to do." Stiles whispers into the skin of his neck and he shudders against him.
"Are the risks higher, in her case? With the magic and the method of.. Conception?" Derek asks in a strained voice over her head. Deaton nods.
"It is, but that also means abortion will be more tricky too. You are clearly subconsciously protecting the child. Trying to remove it could result in magic we can not pull you back from, or damage you can not recover from." Stiles looks at him, wide eyed and painfully aware of Derek frozen against her.
"Are you saying I could die, if I want to get this out of me?"
"I'm saying it's a possibility. You need to decide if it's worth the risk."