N/A: Can you guys guess how this ends? Is my plot making predictable? Let me know what you all think! And for those who've been around since the beginning, thank you!

-x-

"I can find him," Malia declares softly from where she's standing beside Derek.

"Thought your powers were exhausted?" he asks, not bothering to hide the fact that he'd listened in on that whole phone call.

"My mom's helping me out," she replies, pulling a pendant out from under her shirt and waving it at him. "It's set with topaz and obsidian. It'll help me out for at least a couple more hours."

Derek looks towards where Scott, Kira and Isaac are gathered around Allison.

"We need to go now. I won't be able to trace him for much longer," She murmurs, eyes focused on where Stiles had last been standing.

"Go," Scott's voice tells him from across the clearing. The alpha looks up and meets his eyes with a grief stricken expression. "If there's anyone who can talk him down from Phoenix Force Jean Grey, it's you."

He's not familiar enough with X-men to know what the analogy means, let alone what Scott means by it's you, so all he does is nod once in silent acknowledgement.

Malia grips the pendant as she scrawls a symbol through the air and then holds her hand out to him. Derek looks down at it, hesitates for a second before finally taking her hand. She's already looking at him when he looks back up at her face.

"Hold on tight."

-x-

It's like spinning and vertigo all at once, and Derek's never been fond of roller coasters and things like that, so when they reappear into the real world, he stumbles forward and almost faceplants. Malia's ready for it, of course, and is gripping his hand hard. He envies the way she 'lands' without losing her balance.

"It takes some getting used to," she murmurs, already distracted. "What…is this place?" she continues, dropping his hand and taking a few spinning steps as she pans her eyes around.

Derek takes a deep breath and lets his senses adjust. Is surprised by the barrage of familiar scents that hits him through the darkness. What the…

"I used to live here. This is my loft," he explains, confusion making his words come out slow. "I don't—why—"

"Did something important happen here? What's important about this place?" Malia asks him quickly.

"Uh, I'm not sure. It's been a while since I've been here," Derek offers, not quite sure about what to say.

A lot of things happened here, he thinks, recalling every interaction he's ever had with Stiles at his old place.

"Like, since Stiles was in high school 'a while'?" Malia asks, looking at him thoughtfully.

"Yeah, definitely," he nods.

Malia continues to look at him, top teeth chewing on her bottom lip pensively.

"Huh," she exclaims.

"What?" he retaliates with frustration in his tone. He doesn't appreciate the way she's looking at him knowingly when he himself has no idea what the heck is going on.

Malia sighs patiently.

"Witches are taught at a very young age to learn their weaknesses and their strengths, both inside and out. When one finds oneself in a particulary…difficult bind – like this one – one of the steps we are taught to take is to find somewhere, something or someone we can draw strength from. It's one of the first few things I taught him. And it looks like this place is one of Stiles' Somewheres," Malia concludes thoughtfully.

Derek lets the information sink in, tries to categorise all the different questions and theories that begin to pop up in his thoughts.

"What does that even—"

Malia shakes her head and raises her arms in a surrendering gesture.

"Don't ask me, I don't know."

Derek directs another scowl at her but he's starting to realise that Stiles' new friend isn't easily intimidated as she raises an eyebrow at him and then glances away in dismissal.

"Look, when we find him, this is what's going to happen. He still needs to finish the exorcism and he's still got a hold on the Magic so the channel's going to be wide open. I need you to understand that he's going to be drawing from the universe, okay, Derek? It's going to be like he's really, really high. He's himself but not himself, y'know? He knows he's getting drawn further away, but it won't matter to him and he won't care because it feels good. Stiles is going to want to go.

Circeris is one of the most powerful demon goddesses in existence. Her continuous consumption of the fountain of youth – or, y'know, werewolves' blood – has made her impossibly strong. The amount of magic and energy Stiles needs to exorcise her is probably equal to a small galaxy – and I know that's hard to believe, but I told you guys he's a starburst! He has access to something that seems almost impossible, and that's why he's afraid. I know he's afraid, I've always known, but I thought he had more time to work through his fear. To realise that he can handle this, that he's strong enough. But now, I don't—Stiles is either going to succeed or…kill himself if we don't try to help him," she explains with worry in her tone.

His heartbeat stutters at her last few words, and all of a sudden he knows that he would do whatever it takes to keep from returning to the pack with another dead body in his arms.

"What can I do?"

"I've talked him down a few times before but that was with an open channel to his thoughts, when I could show him what I felt. He's never blocked me out like this before," Malia murmurs.

"So in other words, you don't know," Derek states, throwing a stoic expression at the young witch.

She sighs at him irritably.

"Look, I can talk him through the rest of the exorcism, I can even try to talk him down enough until he's more like himself. But there is nothing I've taught or said to him before - or can say now - that will help him trust in what's inside him. And the only way he can harness the power of the universe is to trust in what he knows in himself and find that which can give him control."

"He needs an anchor," Derek murmurs pensively.

"Exactly!" Malia exclaims.

Derek thinks back on the conversation he'd had with Stiles before the kid had surprised him with a kiss and Derek had panicked and run away.

He knows why Stiles is afraid.

Getting possessed by the Nogitsune had made him doubt himself, made him think of himself as weak. And he knows that even after so many years, Stiles had never really fully recovered from the self-doubt or that feeling of being the weakest. He knows, because sometimes he'd see it in the way Stiles would hunch his shoulders in uncertainty against a particularly persistent supernatural problem, or the way he looked at Scott when he knew his best friend wasn't watching. Derek knows it in the way he sometimes catches Stiles running his fingers across ancient books about demonic possession and the marks they leave behind. He knows it in the way he would sometimes catch Stiles with this strange look on his face as he sits back at pack meetings and get-togethers – separated from the others but present at the same time.

"They're fighting inside me, Derek. They're fighting for my vessel, I can feel it. If I have what Malia says I have, the power of the universe? – How am I supposed to control that?"

"Hey, twisting and untwisting, remember? You're stronger than this, you hear? And you've got Scott, the pack, you've got Malia, and your friends in college, and your dad…and me. I'm here too. Whatever you need, I'm right here."

Derek blinks the memory away and turns to Malia.

"You do what you have to do to get rid of Circeris, I'll handle Stiles."

Malia flashes him a small, relieved smile.

"Great! I was hoping you'd say that because he's right behind you," she informs quietly, eyes focused on something over his right shoulder.

Derek turns calmly, sees nothing for a second until twin gold dots appear in the darkness and blink once at him.

He doesn't hesitate.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself," Stiles replies.

There's a deep, rasping quality in his voice that is new, but Derek can't pick out anything else that's different about him because he keeps his place in the shadows and away from them.

So Derek moves forward a little and tries to catch sight of Stiles as he speaks.

"Listen, I'm sorry I left earlier, at the house. I shouldn't have run."

"Where's Malia?" Stiles asks, not reacting to anything Derek had just said. Derek's brows twinge with worry because he knows Malia's only a step behind him so why can't Stiles see her?

Malia steps forward and responds to Stiles.

"I'm here. Don't let her hide me from you, Stiles, I'm right here."

Derek's brow furrows further at Malia's response.

"It's Circeris," she murmurs quietly. " The longer Stiles holds onto her, the longer she can play tricks in his mind until he can't tell the difference between real or fake. He needs to finish the exorcism."

"Why didn't he do it back at the clearing?" Derek questions.

Malia throws a quick glance at him before focusing back on the only part of Stiles she can see. The gold pinpricks of his eyes.

"Sometimes, when you're using a lot of magic, it's hard to focus on everything you need to do. It's hard to tell right from wrong, Light or Dark. Things get jumbled inside your head and you're reduced to the most basic of instincts. He didn't finish the exorcism because his intentions - the most basic of them - were Dark. He wanted to kill Circeris, but not because he wanted to protect his friends, he just wanted to kill Circeris, period. That intent is of the Dark and that's why he stopped. He was unable to focus on an intention of the Light. And with magic this big, he needs to be careful because it will be an instantaneous choice, whatever his intentions are. Right, Stiles?"

Derk takes a deep breath and looks back at Stiles still hidden in the shadows.

"Stiles, I know it's still you in there. Come out, will you? We know you won't hurt us…"

-x-

I wish for you to desist your attempts to see your witch friend, Magician. You will not win against my strength.

The demon goddess' voice inside his head hurts the veins in his eyes but Stiles doesn't budge, mentally shoves a fist sized spark into the black cloud trapped in the back of his mind before violently ripping off the glamour she had draped around Malia.

Shut up, he thinks in reply, as he steps out of the shadows with arms loosely crossed over his chest.

There's a small flutter in his heartbeat when he nears Derek, and Stiles squashes it immediately, worried that the demon goddess inside him will pick up on his feelings.

"What are you doing here?" he demands in a low tone.

"I'm here to help you," Derek replies calmly.

"Allison and Aiden are dead," Stiles reminds him, voice cold. "Go home, Derek."

The older man gives his head a slight shake and takes another step forward.

"Not without you."

Circeris stirs inside him again as Derek approaches him and Stiles senses it as soon as she detects the difference in Derek's blood.

Werewolf?! She snarls.

Stiles squeezes his eyes shut as the veins in his forehead pulse with the pain of the demon goddess's excited exclamation. If it is not the true alpha I can have, then this one shall do.

Stiles gasps. Fear for Derek and Malia makes him panic and he instinctively pulls on his connection to the universe and throws a blast of magic outwards until it surrounds him in a dome of solid energy.

So now he's trapped inside it and Derek and Malia are locked out.

-x-

The both of them are thrown backwards as the dome of magical energy hits the ground, and Derek and Malia bounce against the opposite wall of the loft before falling to the floor.

"Stay away!" Stiles screams at them, arms held outwards, power pulsing from his hands as he continues to strengthen the wall of the dome surrounding him.

"What the hell was that?" Derek grumbles to himself as Malia lets out a stream of colourful expletives.

It takes him a while to register the jumble of words rushing out of Stiles' mouth.

"She knows! She knows what he is! Malia, why did you bring him?! Get him out of here! GET HIM OUT!"

Derek can smell the remnants of panic pouring out of Stiles in waves. His hands are trembling and there's an agitation in the way his chest heaves with every breath and the way his body shifts from foot to foot.

Malia rushes forward.

"No. No! He can help you, he's here to help you, okay?! You can do this, you're already halfway there. Listen to me, focus on the Light. Focus on why you chose to fight her in the first place and why you're protecting them!"

It doesn't take Derek long to decipher Malia's words. She wants him to remember his friends. Wants him to remember the people who make Stiles who he is.

Derek knows better than to reach out and touch the wall of energy but he gets as close as he can to it and feels the hairs on his arms stand up and the hackles on his wolf rise. Malia is right beside him, still yelling encouragement to Stiles.

"Come on! Come on, concetrate on my voice! You've got it right this time, you're already halfway there. Stiles, look at me. Hey, look at me!" Malia shifts over a little, pushes Derek out of the way so she can meet Stiles' black eyes. Her voice is shaky but calm. "I'll do it with you, okay? We'll say it together."

Derek watches as Stiles seems to finally focus his gaze on Malia.

And Malia nods slowly and starts chanting the unfamiliar words.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…"

Derek's ears perk up as Stiles' voice joins in with Malia's. It sounds like something feral is trying to claw its way out of his throat. Their chanting intensifies and he feels a heaviness in the air that has nothing to do with how the loft has been sealed for years. Light continues to stream out of Stiles' hands, but now there's black smoke intermingling with the brightness, twisting themselves around his arms.

He sees Stiles' hands begin to tremble and Derek doesn't know how he knows that it's because Stiles is losing focus on his intention of the Light. Instinct makes Derek step forward and start throwing his own encouragements to Stiles.

"Hey. Hey! I'm right here, you hear me?" He declares. "For as long as I've known you, as much of a pain in the ass you were – and sometimes still are – I know that you've always done everything you can to protect your friends and family. You're not weak, or evil, or Dark, okay? And whenever you start doubting yourself about that, just think about everyone who loves you. About everyone who's alive because of you. Take your strength from that, okay? You protect them because you love them and that's good! There is nothing more of the Light than that. It's who you are, Stiles – who you will always be. This is the core of you and that's why the people you're surrounded with come to you and stay. And I know you're afraid right now, but there is nothing to be afraid of. Twisting and untwisting, remember?"

Stiles has paused in his chanting, attention focused on Derek and his words. He's pretty sure the kid has never heard him speak so much in such a short time before, but this is important. Stiles had drifted closer as he spoke and would be almost toe to toe with Derek if it weren't for the crackling wall of magic separating them. His mind flashes back to the last time they were like this, and he remembers looking at Stiles' lips and wanting so badly to kiss them.

"Think about them because you're not alone, you're never alone. Scott, your dad, Malia, the pack…and me."

Derek can't believe it's taken him this long to realise it. Thinks back on all the times their friends had teased them mercilessly, spoken to him with teasing tones and knowing looks.

Scott's words from the clearing come back to him then, and suddenly he figures it out.

If there's anyone who can talk him down from Phoenix Force Jean Grey, it's you.

"Stiles," he whispers, looking directly at him through the slight glaze of the force field. He doesn't flinch from the disturbing gold pinpricks of Stiles' gaze.

"You've got me," he says, "I'm right here."

Stiles tilts his head a little like he's considering Derek's words.

-x-

Circeris thrashes wildly inside him, throwing everything she's got at the cage of energy he'd thrown around her at the same time he'd fabricated the dome. Release me and I will drink him dry!

Stiles sends Derek a small smile.

Go to hell, he tells the demon goddess.

-x-

Derek watches as Stiles resumes the chanting. Malia moves around him again and starts drawing symbols on the ground as she keeps one eye on Stiles.

The weight in the air gets heavier but Derek doesn't falter in his stance, he stays right where he is - where Stiles can see him.

He watches as an invisible wind picks up inside the dome, dust swirling around Stiles in little tornadoes. Stiles' chest heaves with each one of his breaths until he screams the last few ancient words and a cloud of black smoke explodes out of his mouth accompanied with the kid's tortured scream.

"Stiles!" Derek cries, panic lacing his tone. This does not look painless!

Malia grabs his arm, squeezes it reassuringly.

"Almost," she murmurs.

The violent black cloud hits the top of Stiles' dome and spreads out all over its surface. It writhes like it's alive and Derek stares on in horrified fascination.

As the last of the demon goddess leaves Stiles' mouth, Stiles raises his arms and breathes a final word with a sigh.

Lumos.

The black smoke gets sucked into the walls of the dome, keeps filtering into it until Stiles disappears behind a wall of darkness. And then a stream of white light pierces through it, and another, and then another. The wind that had been swirling around Stiles is set free and turns into a tornado, and Derek turns his head away and shields his eyes from the flying debris and blinding light. There's a roaring sound that comes with the wind and the light, and everything around them is loud and violent and deafening.

Until suddenly it's not.

The silence in the loft is almost eerie.

Derek looks back just in time to see the magic retract into Stiles' trembling hands. He lowers his arms as he stares at Derek and Malia, breathing hard. The blackness in his gaze disappears with his next blink, and Derek finds himself looking into warm, hazel eyes.

They stare at each other for what feels like a second and an eternity at the same time, and then Stiles lets out a quiet sigh.

"The stars are shining," he garbles drunkenly and then sways precariously to one side, stumbles, and starts to fall.

"No, come back!" Malia cries out at the same time that Derek lunges forward and catches him. He sinks to the ground with Stiles cradled in his arms and Malia crowds them both, grasping Stiles' face with both hands.

Derek is confused by the urgency that's spiking in Malia's scent until the words she's murmuring registers in his ears.

"Don't look at the stars, come back! I know it feels good but you have to come back!"

-x-