A/N: Again it's been like…a week since I uploaded. Oopsy. I have valid excuses I won't bore you with but just know that I am getting these chapters out as quickly as I can.
I always think of super witty things to put in these little author's notes thingys but for some reason as soon as I actually write them the just go POOF! and disappear. Blarg!
WARNING!: For this chapter nothing really triggering happens except for some violence and a little language. (if the foul language seems weird it's cuz I don't cuss, like, at all… so yeah)
DISCLAIMER: I keep forgetting to put this thingy saying I no own.
ENJOY!
Chapter 12
"We have the lanterns and flash lights. We have all of the ritual stuff and Derek's on his way to ask the neighbors for their snow shoes. All that's left is to bless the knife and be on our merry way." Isaac said and turned from the table with the moonstone knife in his hand.
Stiles took the knife and sat down at the desk with the 'ink' cup set next to him.
"So, what do I write with? I'm gonna need a freakin' small paint brush or something if I'm gonna pull this off." Stiles gestured to the one inch moonstone blade.
"Use a Q-tip. It's small." Isaac suggested.
Stiles shook his head. "No. Something smaller. My real name isn't Stiles you know."
"Actually I didn't know. What is your real name?"
Scott put a hand on Isaac's shoulder. "Don't even try dude. I've wanted to know since we were little and I still haven't found out."
"Is it that bad?"
"It's that bad." Stiles mumbled and thought for a second. "What about the tip of a steak knife? You think that'll work? You think Derek'll even let me?"
"It's worth a shot." Scott said and ran up the stairs to grab the steak knife.
"You guys will have to keep me warm in that storm." Stiles said and Isaac nodded quickly.
"Of course. Scott and I huddled together on our way back and it helped stay warmer."
Stiles gave him a sly look but Isaac's slightly pink cheeks weren't faced towards him and were instead focused on Scott as he came rumbling down the stairs steak knife in hand. Scott didn't give Isaac a second look before walking around him and handing the steak knife to Stiles proudly as if he'd just done something truly great. Stiles felt a flicker of disappointment in Scott and sadness for Isaac before grabbing the knife. The serrated edge pressed into his palm and a flicker of excitement and need fluttered through his belly before he pushed it down and repositioned the knife. He was extremely aware of Scott and Isaac hovering beside him and paused once he had the knife held between his fingers like a pen.
"Uh, guys, I'm about to write in my bodily fluids. Can you not stand so close? A little uncomfortable here."
"Oh, uh, yeah, sorry dude." Scott said quickly and backed up, pulling on Isaac's arm so they were at least five feet away.
Stiles sighed when he looked up to see them both still staring but tried his best to ignore them as he opened the book to the blessing and dipped the knife tip into the 'ink'. On one side he wrote his name. His actual birth name, not Stiles since it wasn't actually the name he was born with. The liquid was a very light pink that seemed to almost disappear against the pale blue of the moonstone. Next he began writing the blessing right below his name. It was one short line written in a language he didn't know. може бити благословени несвет.
"Ok, so my name is done and the blessing is written. What else was it?" he mumbled out loud and looked over Deaton's sticky note. "Oh yeah… the name of the creature. Do you think just writing 'Zduhać' would be enough?"
"I think so. That technically is the name of the creature since it isn't whoever or whatever it used to be." Isaac said.
Stiles nodded. "I sure hope we're right."
He flipped over the moonstone knife but didn't let it rest on the table so he didn't smear the liquid and wrote 'Zduhać' onto the blade. As soon as the last letter was written the moonstone blade began to smoke, the vapors not rising but sinking towards the table and dispersing against the wood. The words written turned from their translucent pink to a dark black and sank into the blade. Scott and Isaac gasped while Stiles gave a muffled curse of astonishment. As soon as there was no more smoke pouring off the blade Stiles carefully pressed his fingertip against the letters.
"Holy shit guys. The letters are burnt into the moonstone. I think it worked."
"Uh, yeah. You could say that." Scott said, nodding his head vigorously while staring wide eyed at the tiny knife.
"Who knew my jizz was so powerful." Stiles smirked and held up the knife.
Scott rolled his eyes and Isaac sighed as if exasperated. Stiles just laughed and went back to staring at the engraved words. The door to the loft creaked open and Stiles knew Derek was back. Without looking up he waved his hand in the air.
"Hey Derek! I totally did it!"
There wasn't an answer for a bit before there was hot breath ghosting past Stiles' ear.
"…ienim…Stilinski."
"Nope! Nope, nope, nope!" Stiles flapped his hands around for a bit before he found the case for the dagger and quickly shoved it back into its sheathe. "You'll never be able to pronounce it so don't even try. Just forget you ever saw it."
"I forgot Stiles wasn't your real name. I've never even seen it! Dude, let me see!" Scott exclaimed, suddenly excited about this tidbit of information.
Stiles clutched the dagger to his chest and shook his head. "Nope! Scott if you get any closer I'm going to tell everyone here about that 'thing' only I know about."
Scott looked confused for a second and took another step forward before he froze. "No way. You don't even remember!"
Stiles gave him an evil grin. "Oh yes I do. It's right abooout…" Stiles made a little pointing motion towards Scott's person before Scott quickly held up both hands and backed off.
"Ok ok! I won't look I swear! Jeesh."
Isaac and Derek were looking increasingly interested but Stiles just looked smug and tucked the knife into the recesses of the bag they were taking with them.
"I'm going to make a quick sketch of the map from our location to the Zud-thingy's location." Isaac said and they all nodded.
"That's a good idea." Stiles muttered, wondering why he hadn't thought of it before.
Isaac was, needless to say, a much better artist than Stiles. Soon they had a miniature version of the map that had a red line running the two point five miles from Derek's loft to the Zud-thingy's hide out.
"Ok. Well then, now that we have our weapon, a way of finding the Zud-thingy, and supplies to hopefully keep us alive out in that storm, let's get goin'!" Stiles said with enthusiasm he didn't quite feel and jumped to his feet.
They all packed everything up and headed to the door. Stiles doubled up his socks before slipping on the snow shoes and pulled a blanket around his shoulders and over his head to try and keep his head warm. The others did the same and he couldn't help but snicker at how ridiculous they all looked. The only one who gave Stiles a weird look at his laughter was Isaac and that's only because the other two were either used to it (Scott) or didn't care (Derek).
"Ok, once we're out there we'll be mostly blinded by the snow. Stiles should stay in the middle so he gets less of the storm." Scott said and hefted the bag onto his shoulder. "Stiles should have the compass and map."
Nobody argued since it was a good plan and despite none of them being quite ready to face this they began their 'adventure' by closing the door behind them with a bang. The wind blowing up the stairs was absolutely frigid and Stiles felt a shiver go through him at the thought of actually walking in snow.
"You know, I actually really like snow but why couldn't this thing have the powers of sunlight and cool breezes?" Stiles complained.
"Because then you'd complain about the hot sun and wish for snow and warm fires." Derek answer and Stiles hit Scott when he laughed.
Scott just laughed again before they all shut up as they stepped off the last stair. It was dark out but Stiles could see the heaps of snow piled at the entrance of the parking garage. There were still dragging footprints from when Scott and Isaac had come in. Well, he assumed it had been them since there was no one else crazy enough to do what they were about to do. Stiles gave a long sigh before pushing Scott in front of him and pulling his sleeves over his hands so he didn't lose a finger or two…or three…or more…to frostbite. Derek pressed against his side and slung an arm around his waist while Isaac pressed into his other side with an arm around his shoulders. Stiles grabbed Scott's back and they all climbed over the edge of the heap of snow and were immediately engulfed in the furious blizzard.
Stiles felt the biting wind and freezing snow through all the layers he was wearing and had a brief flare of panic before he felt the arm around his waist squeeze him tight and they were moving again. Stiles remembered from the map that they had to go down a quarter of a mile to the first intersection and make a right. After that there was a long road of about three quarters of a mile before they had to make another right at the second intersection.
The snow was hard to walk on since it was so loose underfoot. The broad snow shoes helped keep most of his feet above the powder but if they paused for too long or if there was a strong gust of wind the snow easily engulfed up to their knees. Derek had to haul him out a couple times before they reached the first right.
Once they reached the intersection Stiles pushed Scott in the right direction and they were off again. The wind came at them hard from this direction and Stiles could already tell that he'd lost feeling in his fingers and toes. He quickly wriggled all of his appendages to make sure he still had them and was relieved when he felt the bite of pain flare through them. As they trudged on he made sure to constantly wriggle them. About half way down the long road Scott veered off to the right and Stiles struggled to hang on before suddenly the wind was no longer beating down on him.
"What the…" he looked up and saw that they were in a small store that had obviously been abandon near the start of the storm since there was untouched snow on every surface from where the windows and door had burst open.
"Stiles, are your feet and hands ok?" Derek asked quickly.
"I d-don't know. C-cold." Stiles chattered.
Scott wiped the counter next to the cash register off and Derek hauled Stiles up to sit in the cleared space. Derek tugged off his shoes and socks and wrapped each foot with his warm hand. Scott and Isaac did the same for his hands.
"H-how are y-you all s-so warm-m?"
"We're werewolves. We burn hotter than humans. I'm amazed you went that long without complaining about your numbness." Scott muttered.
"My t-teeth w-were weld-ded shut." Stiles mumbled as he continued to shake in their grasps.
"If I'd known that all it took was a bit of cold to shut you up…" Derek shook his head but didn't finish his sentence.
Stiles glared at him and wondered briefly what he was thinking before letting it go and focused on getting feeling back into his extremities. After about ten minutes of constant rubbing and wriggling of his fingers and toes Stiles felt all the numbness fade, leaving an unpleasant burning sensation.
"Ok, I'm good. Let's go. We'll probably have to stop again in about half a mile but let's make good time before then!" Stiles ushered and his socks and shoes were tugged back on and he was re-bundled before they headed back out.
Stiles didn't want to leave the slight reprieve from the storm but he had to with the thought of finally stopping the storm as his motivation. The wind immediately battered them like they were it's personal enemy, which technically they were, and Stiles cursed every part of the cold and swore up and down that he'd never enjoy the winter or snow or anything cold again. He knew that wasn't true but at the moment it kept his mind off his once again numbing extremities.
They made it a few hundred feet past the next right turn before they once again ducked into an abandon shop. This shop didn't have a readily available counter so they sat Stiles on a quickly cleared off section of ground and began warming up his fingers and toes once again. Stiles felt slightly pathetic that he was the only one holding up this little expedition of theirs but didn't say anything about it. Instead he reached into his shirt where he'd been valiantly protecting the map against the wet and tugged it out, splaying it across his lap and giving his hand back to Scott.
"Ok. We just made our second right turn so we're about a mile in. Next will be a left at the…" he paused to count the intersections, "fourth intersection then a quick right down a random street. That'll be the second street we pass by that's not an intersection. That road will be about half a mile long then we'll come to a right where there should be a bunch of warehouses and storage units."
"I know where that is." Derek mumbled.
"You do? Why didn't you mention that earlier?" Stiles asked.
Derek glared at him. "I didn't realize which storage company was being used. My family used to have a storage unit in there but I'd only been there once when I was a kid."
"And you didn't remember because…?" Stiles prompted.
"Because the route you explained seemed familiar. I didn't know." Derek annunciated as if he were talking to someone incredibly stupid.
Stiles sighed and shook his head. "Ok, ok. I think I'm good to go now guys. Let's just get this done with."
Once they were back out into the storm the progress they made seemed quicker. Stiles realized that they'd been relying on him for the directions the whole time and mumbled curses under his breath until Derek's hand squeezed tightly around his waist. Stiles gave him a sideways look and saw that Derek's face was closer than he though and he quickly turned his face forward again, feeling much warmer all of a sudden.
They had to stop another three times to warm Stiles back up and almost missed a turn but eventually they made their way through the storm. The sign that had been hanging above the storage center's entrance was now lying in a heap beneath the snow where it'd been blown down. The gate was still standing though which made getting in a whole lot harder. The four of them just stood there for a bit looking stupid as they tried to figure out how to get them all in. Stiles finally sighed and pulled Scott towards him.
"I would never be able to climb that fence so you guys are going to have to throw me over!" he yelled over the storm. There were looks of surprise and horror but Stiles just kept going. "Derek you'll throw me and Scott you'll catch me! You guys can get over no problem I'm sure!"
There were more looks of apprehension before Stiles shoved Scott away. They didn't argue since it was cold as fuck and they all really just wanted it to be over and done with. Scott and Isaac went up to the fence, dropped their stuff, and vaulted over, landing easily on the other side. Derek threw the stuff over first then gathered Stiles up.
"I could probably jump with you in my arms." Derek said loudly into Stiles' ear.
"Don't chance it buddy!" Stiles yelled back and patted his chest.
Stiles didn't say it but he was truly worried about whether he'd make it over the fence or smash into it. When Derek drew back to throw him he shut his eyes tight and then he was being launched over the ten foot high fencing. He held himself in a tight ball so his limbs didn't flail and then gravity caught up to him and he was caught roughly in a pair of arms. He unclenched his eyes and stared up at Scott.
"Holy hell. I'm never doing that again. Thanks!" he said quickly and scrambled out of the cradle of Scott's arms.
Derek landed a couple inches away from him, startling the shit out of him before they regrouped. Now that they were in the area they had no idea where to go so they walked through the isles between storage sheds until they reached the warehouse fronts. They stopped just inside an old warehouse whose door handle had been rusted to hell and it'd been easy for Scott to break off. Inside was much quieter though just as cold.
"Ok, so we know it's in one of the storage units or warehouses but we don't know which one. This is where the compass comes in handy." Stiles said and pulls it out of his shirt and sets it onto the icy ground. "We'll take turns using it. Derek should go first, then Scott, then me. As soon as we find where it's located we'll need to have a battle plan."
"Simple. The three of us get you to it and you stab it in the eyes." Derek says.
Stiles give him a 'duh' look. "No shit Sherlock. I mean how are we going to approach it? It's not like we can just walk in there and be like, 'Hey we're here to kill you! Can you hold still so Stiles can stab you in the fucking eyes?'"
"What if we can?" Isaac asks, his eyes far away as he thinks. "Stiles what if you stay out of sight while we distract it and lead it to you? You just have to be close enough to stab it but you don't have to be the one getting close."
"That's actually a good idea. Nice job Isaac!" Scott praises and claps Isaac on the back.
Stiles watches Isaac's face go redder than the pink it was from the cold and he snickers lightly before turning serious again.
"That might actually work. You guys'll probably have to hold it so it won't dart off when it sees me. That'd ruin the whole plan."
"Once it's close enough to you we'll grab it and call out to you." Derek said.
"Good, good. Now that we have a plan let's find this son of a bitch." Stiles growled and placed moved away from the compass on the ground. "Derek."
Derek leaned down and placed his finger on the point above the compass and they all watched the needle spin twice before settling on north northwest. They all looked out the window of the warehouse in the direction it pointed. It pointed in the direction of the storage units so at least they didn't have to trudge through all the warehouses. Stiles picked up the compass once Derek had righted himself and they huddled together again as they stepped out into the blizzard. They made their way north northwest for a while, walking between storage units until they were near the middle. In the middle of the isle they dug down to the ground which was covered by a foot and a half of snow and placed the compass onto the ground again. This time when Scott placed his finger on the point it spun directly towards the W. Directly west was about three containers in a row so they marched over to the middle one and dug to the ground again. The needle pointed straight at the container before spinning once and pointing at the container again. It continued to do this several times before Isaac stepped up to the large storage unit.
"Um, guys? Derek? You might want to see this." Isaac said to them over the roar of the wind.
Stiles scooped up the compass and crowded in with the others as they bent to look closely at the side of the container where Isaac was pointing.
T. & E. Hale.
"Dude. This was your family's storage unit." Stiles says quietly, knowing they could all hear him.
Derek doesn't say anything but Stiles can see the slight nod in answer. They stare at the name for a bit longer before Derek reaches out to touch the name plate before backing up quickly.
"Let's just get this over with." Derek growls and turns towards the door.
There's a heavy lock secured to the handle but it doesn't hold up against a pissed off werewolf's strength. It snaps easily and Derek stuffs the twisted metal into his pocket before tugging the door open slowly. Stiles is quickly stuffed between Scott's back and Isaac's front before they shuffle inside. It's pitch black inside and the wall Stiles is shoved against is no warmer than the snow he'd been trudging through. Quickly he squats into the corner and tries to make himself as small as possible. It's completely quiet and the stillness in the air seems to make the werewolves even tenser. Stiles reaches out until he can feel Isaac and Scott's legs and pushes them away from him. They seem to get the memo because the bag is dropped next to him and he can hear the shuffle of their feet as they scurry away from him.
"Hey!"
Derek's shout echos throughout the empty space, startling Stiles and suddenly it's not so calm anymore. Wind whips furiously around them, making them all throw their hands up to shield their faces and just like that it's no longer pitch black. Pure white replaces the black and if Stiles weren't pressed up against the container walls he'd say he was in a vast empty space. Suddenly the 'dream' he had was fresh in his mind. The eerie quiet that makes his ears ring even though the wind is whipping around him so furiously. He can see the other three off to the right looking at him and each other in astonishment. Cautiously and with little movement he lifts a finger and points forward and to the left, motioning in the direction from his 'dream'. Quickly they set off, leaving Stiles there in the bitter cold.
Stiles knows that the space he's in now is not the same space he'd stepped into when he'd stumbled into the storage unit. This space was bigger than a simple storage shed. Or maybe he was just smaller since he could still feel the walls around him. He didn't know. What he did know was that he could no longer see or hear the others, just the empty whiteness. Quickly he dug through the ice covered bag in search of the knife and felt relief flood through him when his fingers wrapped around the cold, leather sheathe. He pulled it out and clutched it to his chest as he waited for the others to come into sight.
The silence weighed heavily on his mind as he waited. He wondered if time was also different in this odd space because it felt like hours since the other had left him. The wind felt colder without the sound to go along with it for some reason. Stiles tugged the blanket closer around him, breaking a thin layer of ice that had formed on it. He wanted to get up and go after the others but he knew that wasn't the plan. The stillness was making him fidgety and his toes twitched restlessly inside his shoes. His fingers began tapping out a mindless rhythm and he almost started humming before a sound broke through the silence.
"…usting."
Stiles listened harder and words floated towards him.
"Disgusting, nasty, vile, damned creatures. What are they doing in my space? My space! They should be dead! Wiped out, decimated, destroyed, annihilated."
Stiles felt horror crash through him. The others hadn't been able to find the creature but the creature knew about them. Their plan was a bust and the others didn't even know about it. Stiles stood fast, throwing off the blanket and taking off at a run towards the sound. The snow shoes clacked noisily as he ran so he stumbled to a halt and threw those off as well. He was absolutely freezing but he had to get to that thing before it got to them.
"Teach them a lesson. Teach them to never come back! Make them suffer."
Stiles ran hard over the ice slick ground until he could make out a shape in the wind. Flurries of movement confirmed that it was the creature and not one of the others since they didn't have twig thin arms or wear nothing but a white fur skin. Stiles clutched the dagger's end and pulled it from its sheathe and slowed his pace to a walk so his running wouldn't give away his presence.
"Oh young Spark! You're back! But you brought the nasties with you."
Stiles was startled as the thing turned in its crouch to stare at Stiles with its unblinking, unnatural eyes. Stiles came to a full stop and hid the knife behind his leg.
"You're going to destroy Beacon Hills. There are hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent humans here!"
"Oh I know! This place needs to be purged of its rottenness. Those humans are rotten too." The creature spat.
Stiles froze as he tried to think of some way to get close to the creature. It was still a good six or seven feet from him, not close enough to throw the knife with enough accuracy or force. A slow idea formed in Stiles mind and he went with it since there was nothing better.
"You're right."
The creature's head whipped around to stare at him. "What?"
"I said you're right." Stiles let all of the tension drain out of his pose and he gave a seemingly nonchalant shrug. "This town is really rotten. Now that you mention it I can really see how truly disgusting this place actually is. All those inhuman things and those evil humans not doing anything about it. You're absolutely right. This place is better off gone."
"Right, right, right! Putrid, horrid, nasty, vile place this is. Needs to be cleansed. Become pure once more. That's what I'm doing." The thing pauses and stares at Stiles again. "You aren't pure either you know. But more pure than most here. Children are the most pure. But still all so nasty!"
Stiles has the briefest flicker of annoyance as he realizes the Zduhać is talking about his virginity. Quickly he schools his features into one of sad understanding.
"You're absolutely right. I am not pure. But only because those nasty and vile things have tainted me." He puts on a pleading face. "Isn't there any way to cleanse me? Can you do it? Maybe then I can help you get rid of this rotten town."
The Zduhać's face seemed to grow more grotesque, if possible, as it's slack mouth pulled up into a grin.
"Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes! First you must rid yourself of your tainted attire. It stains your skin of putrid creatures."
Stiles quickly divests himself of his clothing piece by piece. As he's slipping his shirt off he leaves the knife in the sleeve, hidden from the Zduhać. Soon he's standing as naked as he'd been in his 'dream', his skin prickling with cold.
"The arms too. There's nasties clinging on to those too."
Stiles looks at his arms and realizes that it means the bandages Derek had done for him around his cuts. Gripping the edge of the bandage he tugs and the bandages unravel and fall from his arms, exposing his healing scabs to the winds.
"See? I was trying to cleanse myself but it wasn't very successful. I know that if you do it then you can make me pure again."
"You're a Spark but you are more pure. Hmm. Come closer Spark!" the creature yelled at him.
Stiles looks at his sleeve with the hidden dagger laying at his feet and picks up a foot. As he does his other foot slips a little on the ice and he puts his foot back down.
"I would follow your every command but I am simply too weak to make it over to you. I am so sorry." He hangs his head in mock sorrow, his already frantic heartbeat picking up speed in fear that this might not work.
The Zduhać stares at him for long seconds while he bows his head until finally it scoots forward, dragging itself along the ice with its hands, the feet sliding beneath it. Finally it stops mere inches from Stiles. At this angle Stiles realizes how small it really is. Like this the creature only comes up to his waist.
"Kneel! Kneel you tainted thing! Disgusting, despicable thing!"
Stiles quickly complies, getting down on his knees, his hands flat against the ice to keep him from falling over. The knife is mere inches away from his fingers but he doesn't want to draw attention to it so he waits as the creature gets close to his face.
"Your skin is tainted but the rest is still pure. Inside is good. Outside is so very bad. Unpleasant. Tainted."
"What must I do?" Stiles asks, making his voice sound almost reverent towards this creature.
"Cleanse the skin! Take the skin. Remove the skin. Regrow the skin. Take the tainted and make it pure!"
The thing lets out the most unpleasant, grating laugh Stiles had ever heard and while its face is still upturned his fingers slide along the ice until they clutch around the knife's handle. He pulls it into his grasp and a feeling of triumph spreads through him until he's able to squash it down. It's too early for that still. The thing is still laughing so Stiles lifts his arm, trying to make it so the rest of his body doesn't move, and jerks the end of the blade straight into the left eye of the creature. Immediately the laughter is replaced by screeching and half formed screams of hideous words. Stiles yanks the blade out and pushes the creature to the ground by its neck. The creatures limbs flail, catching Stiles violently in the chest and stomach, everywhere it can reach. The wind becomes fiercer until it almost throws Stiles off. Quickly, before his opportunity is lost, Stiles drives the blade into the other eye and pushes with all his might. The screaming becomes louder and the black blood of the creature covers his hands. Smoke begins rising from its eyes and Stiles lifts the blade again and plunges it into the creatures eyes over and over again.
Stiles becomes lost in the horror and blind slashing and doesn't realize that the screaming has stopped. He doesn't realize that the wind is no longer blowing. His eyes are clenched shut so he doesn't know that the vast white room had turned into a pitch black space. He doesn't even realize that he's sobbing uncontrollably until there are arms clutching at his, pulling him off of the dead, mutilated creature in his arms. Nothing registers until there is warmth covering his frozen body.
"Stiles. Stiles. It's ok. Come on Stiles."
A warm voice is murmuring in his ear and finally his fingers become slack and the blessed moonstone blade drops from his grasp and he's completely slack in Derek's arms as he cradles him. He sobs loudly and brokenly, shivering violently against Derek's warm body. His chest is tight and he feels like he's not getting enough air. Suddenly there's no air in the room and he's pushing at Derek's chest, gasping.
"Derek let go. He's having a panic attack. He needs space." Scott's voice makes it through the panic in Stiles' brain.
There's a flicker of light in his vision and he can see the three werewolves past the haze of his panic. Scott's face swims closer as he flails around, grasping for air.
"Stiles calm down. Look at me! Focus Stiles! How many fingers am I holding up? Come on, count!"
Stiles grabs onto Scott's arm hard and stares at his hand.
"F-five."
One finger curls away.
"F-f-four."
Stiles gulps in air as he watches another finger curl.
"Three."
Breaths come easier.
"Two."
There's only a pointer finger left.
"One."
He breathes in deeply and collapses in on himself, exhaustion seeping in. Derek catches him before he can fall to the floor and he curls into the warmth. He's shivering now that the panic has finally abated. A blanket settles over his naked form and for a second he realizes he should be incredibly embarrassed by having his junk exposed to everyone but then he brushes it off figuring he can save that for later. Right now he's cold and exhausted and he just wants to sleep right there.
"Tired."
"Yeah. We'll wait here for morning." Derek says quietly, his chest rumbling under Stiles' ear.
"Good."
Stiles doesn't stay conscious long enough to ask where they'd been or what happened. He's out like a light.
A/N: So the mysterious blessing is actually written in Serbian since the Zduhać is actually a creature from Bulgaria, Macedonia, and Serbia. There was a lot of lore about the Serbian traditions so I decided to make the blessing in that language. It actually says 'may the unholy be blessed'. Now if this isn't the correct translation and you can give me solid proof (since I literally just put the words through Google translator) then heck yeah! Send me a bunch of angry PMs telling me what an idiot I am and to just stick to English!
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. This fic is still far from over so stick with me pals! ~hearts~