Baby|| Stiles Stilinski

22

What happened next was a bit of a blur for Baby. The burning pain kept him fading in and out of consciousness. He dimly remembered Miss Blake strapping Lydia to a chair and wrapping a thin wire around her neck. Voices. In and out. Miss Blake talking to Lydia about the meaning of a sacrifice. Lydia murmuring weakly. Pleading. Baby couldn't move. Everything hurt.

Then Lydia was screaming. She was screaming and screaming. It echoed so loudly around them that the volume made Baby pass out again. The scream echoing and echoing. Mixing with the chanting and blood in Baby's mind. It hurt. It hurt.

A roar. Baby blinked and could see the form of Scott just as Miss Blake shoved him and sent him flying. The sheriff was there. His blood dripping onto the floor and his breathing heavily. So many sensations. Baby was drowning in them. Pain. Burning pain. He gasped and wheezed. The sheriff fired his gun and the bang echoed in his head. Too much. It was all too much. It hurt. Someone was crying. Was it Lydia? Sobbing. Dry, gasping, wheezing sobs. It was him. He was crying. Lydia whimpering in her chair. He couldn't move. Only twitch at the burning pain. Someone was shouting. The sheriff groaning in pain.

"Healers. Warriors. Guardians. Virgins". There was the crash of a broken window and feet running.

"Dad!" Stiles called. But it was too late. He and the Darach were gone.

Baby gasped for air. Oh god it hurt. "Baby!" Lydia cried. She fell to her knees at his side. Her neck red from the wire. "Oh my god. Baby!"

Scott and Stiles were there. Baby tried to focus on them as he shuddered. He jerked his hand, fingers grasping and Stiles took them in his. His touch grounding and warm as his scent enveloped them. Baby groaned as he felt Stiles pull him up and steady him against his shoulder. "What the hell happened to him?"

"She threw holy water at him", Lydia coughed, her throat obviously sore.

"We need to get him to Deaton. Quick", Scott stated. Baby felt someone pick him up. The movement made him scream and he passed out again.

——

Baby woke to the familiar ceiling of Deaton's clinic above him. Everything aches and stung. Outside, thunder crashed and rumbled. Lighting illuminating the plaster in bright flashes. He groaned and blinked. The room was empty. He was alone. That stung slightly. He was alone as usual. The ache flared as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. One hand moved to steady him and he knocked something over. It clattered loudly on the floor.

The door opened and Deaton entered. He smiled slightly upon seeing that Baby was awake. "Ah, you gave me quite a scare. It was a nasty concoction that she threw at you. But don't worry, the burns will heal soon enough". He pulled out a torch and flicked it on, the bright light blinding Baby for a moment as Deaton approached to check his bandages. "Theres major storm warnings over beacon hills. The power cut out".

"Where's Stiles and Scott?" Baby slurred. There was still a haziness in his mind.

"They're out looking for Stiles' father", Deaton murmured, occupied by checking the wounds. When satisfied, he picked up a familiar slushie cup and offered it over. Baby took it and drank greedily. The blood filling him with more strength. He drained the cup in seconds. Deaton took it.

"Stay", the vet offered. "Spent the night here. I'll check the bandages in the morning".

Baby nodded and curled back up on the steel table. The metal was hard and cold but he really didn't have the strength to move anywhere else in that moment. The bandages rustled as he curled up. Sleep coming like a truck. As chaos rained through beacon hills, Baby dreamed of fire flies and the roots of a tree.