Is This The World We Created

Chapter 25

Nobody that knew Stiles were surprised that he had chosen to go with his father. Even if he wasn't allowed to be in the room itself. His father was everything to him, but he did admit, he would have liked to have told his mother he loved her one last time. just to see her, his memories of her weren't as vibrant as he knew they should be. She had always been the most amazing mother, generous, loving and so full of life until the diagnosis. Although, he was sure that's what his mother would actually want.

Derek naturally came with him, unable to force himself away from his mate. He knew it would happen, have to happen, sooner or later. Whether Noah understood or not, Stiles and he would need to return to school, to normal life. They hadn't discussed it yet, but he was pretty sure they were avoiding talking about it. The thought of separation was painful. They'd spend years together, never once splitting up, always so aware of the other, so yes, going to school even if only for eight hours was going to be painful for them.

Stiles jumped when the door opened, Derek wasn't surprised, he had heard them approaching. Although, oddly enough, he hadn't heard a single thing else. Likely they'd been sequestered behind a silencing ward of some sort. "How is he?" he asked almost frantic in his need to know how his father was.

"Relax, everything went well," the healer stated firmly, used to dealing with hysterical family members. "He will remain a bit groggy and confused for at least twenty-four hours. We always recommend they sleep through their memories sorting themselves out, and his brain recovering from the trauma of recalling all those missing memories."

"Trauma?" Stiles asked his voice a slightly higher octave.

"He's had many years of memories returned to him, Mr. Stilinks…"

"Call me Stiles," his gaze intent, paying close attention to the healer.

The healer pursed his lips, before conceding, "He's had many years of memories returned to him. False memories removed in turn. Try not to ask him too many questions, he needs time to recover. He's refusing the Dreamless Sleep aid we offered, which would make this significantly easier on him. Try to keep it quiet as well, he will suffer from migraines for at least twenty-four hours. Afterwards they will reduce and ease entirely. If they do not, please inform us immediately."

Stiles nodded immediately and firmly, he knew that this healer wasn't telling him for fun, but because it was a real concern where magic was concerned. While Muggle Doctors knew what they were talking about, with magic it was a different kind of know how. "Can I see him now?" as always, impatient as ever. He still couldn't get over the fact his father had worked with the supernatural (magical) government for decades. Made sense though, since the higher ups were all aware of it. He didn't know exactly how his father had discovered magic but he'd know soon enough.

"You may, for ten minutes," the Healer explained sternly, "Remember, no questions."

Derek just smirked wryly, clearly, they didn't know Stiles if they thought he'd be able to go without questioning his father, even for ten minutes. It would be an effort for Stiles, that's for sure. He never knew when to shut up, not even while being tortured, not that he'd known at the time.

Stiles and Derek made their way into the ward, which was surprisingly not empty. There were two Aurors getting help with injuries, or something. They couldn't hear what was being said, but they could see the blood and the wounds. Noah was at the other end of the ward, awake but so not very alert or like himself, and Stiles should know, he'd seen every single kind of father Noah ever was or could be.

"Dad?" Stiles asked, coming to stand to the right of him, while Derek moved to the left, drawing his pain as he did so.

Noah just squinted, staring at them, or rather right through them. The effort it seemed to take to raise his hand was to much.

"Dad?" Stiles asked, his voice sounding shaken.

"Remember what the Healer said, he's not going to be himself for a little while." Derek reassured Stiles, coming back to stand behind him. Being the support Stiles desperately needed, the thought of losing him again was too much to bear for Stiles. It didn't matter that he was an adult. When it came to his parents, his father, he'd always feel like a lost little boy, just like Derek himself did when dealing with his own parents.

"Son?" came the slow long-drawn-out slur of a word from Noah, as he struggled to speak.

"I'm here, dad, I'm here." Stiles told him quietly, gripping his hand tightly in his.

The two remained standing as Noah faded in and out of consciousness. Stiles reckoned the healer had overestimated his father's consciousness. Either that or they had gotten more sense out of him before he (Stiles) got there. He was rather dubious that he'd been in any good frame of mind since the procedure.

"Tell me he's going to be okay," Stiles murmured, a memory of how his father died in the old timeline playing across his mind. Leaning against Derek who wasn't as muscular as Stiles remembered – nor was Stiles as tall – it was odd, but so worth it. Still, the lankiness was all wrong.

"You looked after all of us, Stiles," Derek murmured quietly into his ear, "Without you, none of us would have survived. Let alone as long as we did in order to come back here. Of course, your father is going to survive, you'll make sure of it." he'd hinge all his bets on Stiles without a single doubt.

The knots eased in Stiles, trusting Derek's trust in him, before the belief in himself. Still, it was mad, his dad, his dad, had been working with MACUSA. "He's badass!" Stiles laughed out; he'd been badass before, of course, but now he was Moreso. He'd worked in a magical society; he didn't know how his dad had given it up…he wasn't sure he could have. "He really loved us." he whispered; he'd given up all this for them.

There were times when he felt as if his father didn't care, the times Noah lost himself to the bottle. The fact he missed when mom died, and times where he felt that his ADHD made his father regret having him. Honestly, he believed at one time his father probably would have preferred Scott for a son.

He knew it was just insecure teenage angst now.

"He really does," Derek agreed, noticing the 'loved us' comment, clearly Stiles was thinking more on their past than right now. "He'll be okay." Subtly trying to get him back to here and now.

"Excuse me," came a quiet but insistent voice of an Auror, who entered the room. "I've been sent to send a message, if you wish to hear what's happening…you'll need to go to the main room where there will be a commentary throughout the entire thing. Naturally the doors will close and nobody will be able to enter or exit until the mission is complete."

Derek glanced down at Stiles, silently wondering what he wanted to do, "Well?" it was his decision. He doubted Stiles wanted to leave his father.

"Go, Stiles," Noah said, sounding much more himself than his earlier slurring, but his eyes fluttered open for only mere moments.

Stiles stared at his father startled, maybe he was going to be just fine. "Alright, we'll be back soon." He promised his dad, squeezing his hand once more, before letting go and tucking it under the covers. If this half hour was anything like how he'd be for twenty-four hours…he'd likely sleep through it, disorientated as he was. The healer was keeping a keen eye on him too, so it wasn't as if his dad would be able to get up and just wander away in his confused state. "Let's go," he said with grim determination.

Derek and Stiles got back just in time, the room was dauntingly empty, for the first time. Only twelve people – Stiles did count – remained in the room, now sitting around the table. "Where's dad and grandpa?" the words felt so foreign coming out of his mouth after so long without using them. He never even allowed himself to think about them, feeling he was tarnishing their memory. He'd caused their deaths, through youthful naiveite but it still happened.

"And Peter," Stiles noticed, Derek looked bewildered, glancing to where Harry was, along with…someone who looked a bit like Peter from the back but wasn't. It took one sniff to confirm it, in fact, he smelt absolutely atrocious.

Stiles and Derek glanced at each other, grimacing, "Argent." Both thinking of Kate despite neither of them saying her first name. Derek didn't like using it, unless he had to, and since there were more than one Argent…normally he would have had to.

"You may go with them, if you can catch up, they're down the stairs and along one corridor. They can't wait once the Portkey has activated so you have a very limited time." the president informed Derek, well aware of what this young man had been through at her hands. He did not think the young man would be able to truly relax until he saw and felt her dead.

Derek shifted, "You know what they…" trailing off, a little abashed, he shouldn't be talking about pack business outside of the pack. He honestly was beginning to feel young and foolish all over again.

"We know what they'll likely do, yes," the president agreed, a rueful smirk on his face. "Lucky for all, we have not yet come to an agreement for the inclusion of the supernatural world to be merged with the magical one…is it not?"

"Go," Stiles urged Derek, there was little doubt Derek needed this. Needed to know she was dead, and that there would be no return for her. To see them deal with her like he knew Peter would do. He wouldn't risk her making a come back of any kind. No, she'd be set on fire, if she wasn't while she was alive. Which would be poetic justice in his book.

Hell, nobody would blame the Hale family for anything the did to Kate bloody Argent.

Derek kissed Stiles, reluctantly parting with him, Stiles pushed him away with a look that spoke volumes. "Go, I'll be right here when you get back." Derek went to find his uncle, father and grandpa.

That's when the first of the information from the teams outside began to trickle in.

'Team three outside of CrestHill hospital, Grayce is preparing to enter sleeping gas to the inhabitants and guards or orderlies.'

'Team two is outside the Argent property ready and waiting,'

'Team three ready and waiting'

'Team ten ready to go when ordered'

Stiles startled, that was a French accent if he wasn't mistaken, but the radio kept broadcasting. Could he call a small gem that was lit up in the middle of the desk a radio? It was certainly transmitting everything everyone was saying. As they continued, less and less were speaking English, but those that were taking in another language, there was someone in the room to repeat what had been said in English.

For the first time it actually dawned on Stiles that this was a worldwide extermination, tomorrow there wouldn't be a single hunter left in the world. Except for Chris, who was most definitely not a hunter anymore.

He recognized when they spoke Spanish, everyone at least recognized a few words in Spanish. He was by no means an expert. In fact, he was more proficient in the ancient languages, Latin, ancient Greek, and numerous other languages he'd had to become knowledgeable about in order to translate the books they found on various creatures they were battling at any given time.

Then he recognized Peter's voice, coolly and calmly telling them they had returned to Beacon Hills, and were quite ready and willing to deal with Kate Argent. He must have been able to hear all the teams, otherwise there would have been people talking over each other.

It was with a tense anticipation as the numbers dwindled down.

"It's a go, go, go!" the President of MACUSA declared into the now glowing rune, as the numbers reached 0.

The words were repeated in every single language almost simultaneously, indicating that the mission was a go.

It was quite frankly, the biggest, combined mission they'd ever undertaken, for the betterment of humanity – and magic itself – to keep magic hidden and safe from hunters.

The fact that hunters had sprung up all over the world…for generations made the wizards and witches skins collectively crawl with revulsion and fear.

"Are there any spells that allows you to find a person?" Chris asked, his voice so low, barely a murmurer, not wishing to distract the proceedings or be heard too loudly on the radio. Although, when they were speaking into it, the wand was pressed against it and it was glowing.

"Don't worry, we won't leave without her," Eric promised Chris, it wasn't every day they worked with No-Maj's so this was far from their usual missions. It was by far the most exhilarating and daunting – due to how widespread it was – mission they had ever taken part in. "If the…bloodwork says she's here, then she most definitely is." Leery of the fact blood magic had been used. Not that she'd be able to tell anyone about it, or anything about this mission either.

Chris swallowed, staring at the foreboding building, would his mother even remember him? recognize him? Was there anything left of her after being locked up in hell for so long? He hadn't known his father had contacts here, never mind to ensure his mother was put in here without anyone blinking at her illegal incarceration. Would he recognize her? Was there anything left of the woman who had raised him to be a decent hunter? A grimace appeared on his features; he hadn't been…a good hunter that was. He had been pulled into his father's rhetoric's, just like she feared. He had been letting her down all these years, God help him, for he'd need it to face his mother with his conscious clear. Did the good he was doing outweigh the bad? Likely not…but soon it wouldn't be up to him.

"Let's go," Grayce shout whispered, "Team three going in," they were one of the last ones to go in, since the spell had to go around an entire hospital for the criminally insane, not just a house or a mansion or manor. Then there were the tunnels, they had to make sure to get everyone and give it time to work. Everyone should be asleep where they were when the gas hit them.

Chris impatiently went in directly after Grayce, but was held back firmly "Do not make me bind you and force you outside. I have no qualms about using my magic on a No-Maj, do you understand? Go at my speed or not at all." stern and firm.

Chris nodded, flushing a little, the witch was tiny compared to him, but definitely more dangerous with magic at her disposal. There was something embarrassing at being reprimanded by such a small witch, she was lucky to be 4foot5 probably even less than that. "Yes, ma'am," he said respecting her nonetheless, he'd always had a high respect for women in general. He'd been raised in a Matriarchically inclined society. So, it was truly no surprise that he held a respectful tone when it came to stern women.

Grayce relaxed, giving a firm nod, feeling as through the man would respect her wishes and do as she bid. She was relatively young, compared to every other team leader, but she wasn't about to let anything go wrong. For it would mar her record, and make it more difficult to make Captain which would lead to Head Auror. She had her ambitions, and there was nothing wrong with that. It had taken her a long time to see that, it was nothing to do with 'proving herself' she just wanted what she wanted.

Chris bleak thoughts didn't stop once they entered the prison – with a single simple spell all locks unlocked! – not that he paid much attention, just a single second's thoughts. Their pace was swift, but no less heart breaking, this, this had been his mothers view for…too many years to count. God help him, how could he have not foreseen this? He was surprised his father hadn't told him in malicious spite when he wasn't 'being the good son' so to speak.

Chris didn't think, tried not to feel, as he followed Grayce through the grey hallways. A bleak existence, yes, it reaffirmed his belief. People deserved to die (be killed) before being sentenced here.

"What the no-Maj's choose to do with their own is up to them," Erin muttered, more to herself than them. "Ironic, our laws are based on them, and we give our people far better care."

"We don't have a hospital for the criminally insane. They're imprisoned full stop." Grayce replied, following the directions on her wand, as they slowly but surely made their way through the levelled hospital. The spell led them downwards and not upwards (seven levels) which could have been twenty-one wards depending on how many wards was on one level. There could be more than three per level – which was how theirs was – could be less.

"And if it was a serial killer?" Chris asked, fascinated to know more about the world he was now a part of.

"If the crimes are that bad, he'd be sentenced to prison for life, it would need to be really bad to bring back the executions…they've not been used for decades now." Erin mused, shuffling along when Grayce did.

"This is where the hospital ends on the blue prints," Floyd spoke, his voice calm, soft and soothing.

"You had time to check the blueprints?" Erin asked bemused, as they grimaced and began to go down stairs, there was a guard sleeping against a chair. It smelt atrocious down here, like nobody ever cleaned up after themselves. She had a sinking feeling that they couldn't.

"I did. This add on isn't part of the official lay out." Floyd.

"Dear, Merlin," Grayce said, holding her hand over her nose, just long enough to cast a bubblehead charm imbued with clean breathable oxygen. "It doesn't smell like they're alive."

Chris' heart pounded erratically within his chest; she could be dead. He might have just found out…and she could have died before they got there. The thought was terrifying, he swallowed thickly, praying that the notion of finding his mother would be wrenched from him. He'd take care of her however long he needed…he'd get to introduce her to Allison, his daughter who was so much like her. Strong, resolute. One of the best things he'd ever accomplished.

For the first time…in his life, Chris prayed for his mother to survive just a little longer. He'd never been a believer; despite everything he'd seen and done. yet he'd gratefully become one if his mother survived, lived, so that she could see him again. Meet her granddaughter, who resembled her so much.

If they thought the lower level was the only level, they'd have been wrong. Chris went up to the restrained people, feeling sick. They were asleep, whether they'd been so before they were gassed or not was up for debate. "Isn't there anything we can do for them?" Chris asked, the injustice making him feel rotten to the core.

"As callous as this is going to sound, they're no-Maj's, it's not our job to police them," Floyd told him, the words didn't sound right coming from such a soft soothing voice. After walking to the other end of the corridor fully, he added, "If it really is troubling you, go to a police detective, someone high up you trust that's clean and tell them what's going on. Catching on to illegal incarcerations would probably get him a few awards and a lot of recognition." Giving him a suggestion and a tip on how to handle the police to make it enticing enough they'd want to take the task on.

Chris gave the wizard an odd look, he couldn't just up and ask any detective. It would need to be someone in the area, where it was their jurisdiction. Surely, they knew this? Unless the Aurors worked everywhere? Or anywhere that was magical? It didn't sound right, but he didn't want to try and figure it out. Not right now anyway, since he was more interested in finding his mother. It had been decades since he saw her, and he wasn't using the other time line as example if he was then it was at least 5 decades.

It was been very easy to adapt back to this time, and think like this, in this timeline. It didn't mean he hadn't forgotten, he hadn't. Probably never would, he had nightmares every time he slept…which was twice, and they were more like naps, he hadn't slept much since returning. The drive, the worry that it would all be a dream, that he'd end up wakening up back in that barren landscape that had been all that was left of the world.

He had ties that bound him heavier to the Hales than he'd ever as an Argent.

"This has a sub-basement," Floyd said, shifting a shelve – the lines gave it away – to the right, revealing the secret entrance. "Didn't make it very difficult." A dubious look on his face, "Do you think they have traps here?" not underestimating the Muggles.

"Doubt they expect anyone to come down this far," Chris muttered, "They'll only believe what they see on the blueprints." Going down first, heading into the darkness, but it wasn't dark for long, a globe of light was buzzing like a bee alongside him. He didn't so much as flinch, he was used to magic now, admittedly a different kind, but Stiles could do all the same things, just different ways.

In fact, it was a comfort, especially seeing as he was here with three strangers, after spending years upon years with only the pack for company. Seeing so many people…at Harry's sanctuary had been a shock to the system, seeing so many more here, and now was a bigger shock.

"Lumos MAXIMA!" Chris barely heard the words before the world lit up like a bright, bright supernova. Suddenly, he could see everything, and wished he couldn't. Rows upon rows of cells, Chris straightened his spine, and strolled over to the first one, and a single peer into the room he wished he hadn't. Gagging in disgust, the spell was awful, wrenching his face away. There was a tiny room, metal bed, no mattress, no window, a view from the grate in the door and that was it. How long did they stay in their own filth before they were cleaned? "Will you help now?"

"You listening?" Erin asked, stalking up to him, looming over him, "You want to keep your mother in here for days more? Because the only way you're going to get this place found and quickly is to insist somehow that your mother is stuck in here. Illegally incarcerated. If you can get anyone to listen, and by then, it's likely they'll all be dead. You hear me? They won't risk them being found."

"So let them go," Chris said not at all intimidated. "I'll pay for their care. Until they get on their feet." It was the least he could do after all the blood his family had on their hands.

"Do you honestly think there is any getting on their feet?" Floyd asked quietly, "It would be a mercy to end their suffering and allow them to journey on to the next adventure." They did believe in reincarnation, on something happening after they die. To see their loved ones before they reincarnated back to the earth.

Chris slumped, "I don't know." he confessed, he just felt the need to prove he was better than the rest of the Argents. To do good. To be good. To prove himself worthy of this second chance he got. He knew he owed it all to Stiles, it was Stiles who brought them back. It was good though, it…gave him a second chance his own ignorance wouldn't have perceived. He narrowed his gaze, mentally calculating just how many people was down here, and also up stairs since they were not registered patients.

"In here," Grayce said, opening the door, able to breathe normally through another bubblehead charm. She did put her arm over her face, she could almost smell it. The pee and excrement in the room, the patients' feet were covered in it, the lone nightgown looked yellow and ancient. She wouldn't use it as a rag never mind as a nightgown.

Chris cursed as he skidded into the room, and if not for Grayce's strong grip suddenly under his oxters. "Thank you," Chris hated how young and vulnerable he sounded. Yet, for the life of him…he couldn't really care, as he took in his mother's aged features with devastation, it was her alright, "Mom," tears ran down his face as he choked, was there any coming back for her? He wanted to sob in her lap and wanted her to soothe him like she used to when he was young and his father ignored him for hunting again, or for his baby sister.

He hovered over her, terrified of hurting her, of her being hurt even accidentally by him. She needed a doctor, she needed help right bloody now.

A/N – I know right! Who would have guessed that Chris Argent would become a central focus even if only for a few chapters? I hate the guy lol the second he spoke I hated him regardless of what he did. First impressions and all that, hell I never got over what Allison did either (and that admittedly wasn't a first impression) it was decidedly pathetic how easily she was manipulated despite not even knowing her freaking grandpa and aunt very much! It's going to be interesting writing Allison without that mar since she's a child 😊 Isaac too for some reason I never took to him. I honestly had an urge to slap Erica silly for a while, that attitude needed a serious adjustment…and that's why I shouldn't watch things for teenagers 😊 lol and to think they're bringing out a movie…which I won't be watching since none of the guys I really tried to watch the series for are going to be in it. Derek and Stiles' characters aren't returning although if you want to see Tyler Hochein and Ian Bohen they're actually working together again in Lois and superman? Something ugh I read the article but can't remember the actual title but I do now he's playing superman (it's series two they're working together) if you actually only want to see the episodes, they're in together go to Ian Bohen's IMDb page 😉 you'll have the exact number and episodes 😊 (hard to believe he's still best known for his Teen Wolf series lol) what about you guys? Was there a single character other than the main three (Stiles, Derek, Peter) (I do not include scott in that 😉 lol) that you liked from start to finish? Surprisingly? I think for me it had to be Boyd his character remained consistent throughout the series. Hate the fact they were killed off before they could really come to their own…too bad they didn't decide to kill off Scott, Allison and Gerard 😊 hehe R&R please Oh do you want to see Stiles take part in this or are you okay with him stepping back to recuperate some more since he did bring back quite a few people :)