Angels and Demons (Stiaasac Teen Wolf)

Chapter 32

  "Well that hurt more then you let on." Stiles rolled his shoulders. "Samples are done now what?"
"You stay seated," Sam came back. "Rowena doesn't know anyone who can manipulate time like you can. So she is dying to meet you and I sent a message to Alena."
"Alena is stuck to her lands she's used all her power but she has to stay there," Stiles sighed.
"What?"
"She can't leave the realm anymore," Stiles explains. "I can't remember why but she said it's almost impossible. She will lose her magic and if she loses her magic, she dies."
    "Okay," Sam rubbed his face. "What are we going to do?"
    "The Fae may be the only resource we have to heal this wound," Deaton sighed looking up from his book. "According to this, there was poison lacing the bullets or knives. And there is no known cure to it. The only thing keeping you alive is your magic but soon that will start to disappear. Stiles, this is more than lethal to you."
    "So we call around. Call your friends. There has to be someone out there who has survived this," Stiles frowned. "Someone has to know something."
    "I will continue my research but you must limit your magic usage. If you use it up, there's no telling how long it will take to kill you," Deaton was grave.
    "What is gonna kill you?" Jackson stood in the door. His arms crossed and a brow raised.
     "Nothing!" Stiles jumped off the table quickly. "Nothing." Sam and Deaton kept silent.
     "Stiles, I heard everything. Explain now," Jackson laughed but there was no amusement.
    "Why are you here?"
    "Derek and I followed you," Jackson shrugged. "Not originally, but when we saw you were going to Deaton's we wanted to know why."
    "Derek is here too?" Stiles was panicking. "You guys followed us?"
     "Stiles answer the question."
    "I am not dying, right guys," he looked at the older men waiting for a response. "This is where you say right Stiles, we are gonna figure this out."
    "Right," Sam nods.
    "Believable," Stiles rolled his eyes. "Okay, it turns out whatever hit me was poisoned. And the poison, so far doesn't have a cure, it's extremely rare. Pretty much endangered. As is my new species so this makes sense. But, we are going to figure this out. Deaton is gonna work his Magic with the books and resources and Sam is gonna call his friends. I am not dying again."
    "Who else knows?"
    "Nobody."
    "Why would not you tell other people this?"
    "Because I don't want to freak anyone out."
    "Don't you think they should know?"
    "Sure after I find a cure. They just got the town back and their memories. I can't just jump on them and say hey I might be dying," Stiles explained.
     "You're dying?" Derek asked.
     "Damnit!"
     "He's not dying," Jackson shook his head. "Just close to being at the point where he is almost dying."
     "What?"
     "I'm poisoned okay, there's know known cure anymore. But we are figuring this out. And you cannot tell anyone. Either of you. Please, they will all freak out! I can't let them find out," Stiles pleads.
"This doesn't seem fair," Sam said.
"It's not," Derek shook his head. "And it's the same thing that always happens. You don't tell anyone what's going on and it ends up blowing up in your face."
"He's right."
"Of course he is," Stiles growled. "I know okay guys! I know it sucks of me. I don't tell anyone what's wrong with me and then I try to fix my own problems. Sorry. Okay! I can't fix that about myself!"
"Stiles calm down," Jackson held a hand up, "you're glowing."
"What? Sorry," he blinked away the sparks in his finger tips. "What do I do?"
"You have a week," Derek said. "Figure whatever you need out then you tell everyone. I mean it because if not I will."
"Fine."
"I mean it, Stiles."
"I know you do, Derek."
"What do we know now?" Jackson asked taking his jacket off.
"The book says that the cure became extinct years ago. More then four centuries," Deaton explained. "The poison still is viable in many exotic gardens across the globe. It is only lethal to Stiles'  kind. It seems whatever it is started from barely a knick."
    "And what is it?" Jackson asked.
    "A blend of wolfsbane and other flowers. I can't pinpoint exactly how many it was made in the early 1800 to keep away the spirits by natives. Then to kill off the entire warlock species. But I wonder...."
    "Wonder what?" Stiles reads over the man's shoulder. "What?"
    "I need do more research. I do suggest getting a hold of your friend Alena," Deaton was calm despite the circumstances. Stiles however was not. The thought of death terrified him. The pain of taking that last breath always stuck in brain then the jolt of life hitting him again. Then to be put on trial a second time and if he were to win his case who knows if anyone would be left then. His brain at an eternal war of wanting to die and the will to live, that he didn't know he had.
     "Stiles?" Sam shook a hand in front of his face. "Are you alright?"
    "What? Yeah," he nods. "What's up?"
    "Rowena will be here tomorrow," Sam explains. "For now we need you to not use your magic and keep resting. Don't show up for your pack training or whatever. You need bed rest."
    "Alright," he held a hand up. "I swear. Scouts honor."
    "That means nothing," Jackson rolled his eyes. "You weren't even a scout."
    "Look, I'm not gonna do anything I'm not supposed to, okay? I won't use magic or move from my bed unless I absolutely need to! I will stay home," Stiles nods. "Now can someone bring me there? So I can start?"
    "We will take you," Derek nods. "Anything else?"
    "He will need assistance doing every day things. Someone will have to get him food, water, keep him in bed," Deaton doesn't look up from his book. "And, if he continues to progress the way he does, I believe in a week he's gonna need help doing more than just that."
     "What? You did not say that!" Stiles turned quickly. "Are you saying in a week I could be like completely debilitated? That can't happen."
"That's why I suggested telling your friends," Deaton rolled his eyes. "Stiles this isn't a game anymore. This is literally life or death and as more of your body weakens the harder it will be to control your magic. We don't know the limits of the power you hold yet, if you even lose a decimal of control it could very well be catastrophic for all of us."
"Right..."
"Great, you're gonna kill us all," Jackson grumbled. "You better get a hold of Alena because if not I will hunt down the nearest Fae. I don't care about becoming public enemy to a bunch of fairies," Jackson threatened.
"Watch your tongue, or I might have to take it," Alena rose a brow. "Or would you rather say that to my face?"
"Alena."
"Jackson."
"Didn't know you were here, thought you couldn't come," Jackson's stance straightened.
"And miss this? Never," she smiled patting his face. "Now, Stiles, I have an array of words I could give you right now."
"Are any of them hello?" Stiles swallowed.
"I think you know better."
"Right."
"How long?" She points for Stiles to get on the table which he does quickly lifting his shirt. Deaton answers her question watching the girl peel the bandage away. "And you haven't called earlier? The blackened spots mean that the tissue is dying." She slides gloves on before pulling the skin apart. "I should have been notified as soon as you found that the wound was not healing."
"Is there anything you can do?" Sam asks.
"The laceration itself isn't extensive but you can see the poison spreading. I need you to lay down." Stiles nods laying flat against the metal. "Can I see the chart?" She runs her eyes over the clipboard humming as she reads. "I've never seen anything like this, but that doesn't mean I can't figure this out. I feel the heat of your magic fighting the infection. We need to find a way to conserve."
    "What about the flower that Derek had? The one that blocked my magic?" Stiles asks.
    "What was it?"
"It was an herb," Derek corrects. "I got it from Deaton."
"I have it here. But if we administer too much the magic keeping him alive will waiver and he will die," Deaton explains handing her a jar.
"Good point," Alena nods. "I need time to study this all, I need a copy of all this. I need everything you have."
"Right away."
"Stiles, I need you home in bed. Tell your friends you can't leave, your wound is too unpredictable," She takes the gloves off and lets her fingers hover above and he can feel the warmth radiating through his skin again. "Jackson, you are in charge of keeping him down."
"Why me?" Jackson whines.
"Because this is your punishment. Don't talk shit," she snips. "And you, handsome, must be Derek."
"I am," he holds a hand out giving his charming smile. "I've heard about you. They all seem terrified. That used to be me."
"Still is, bud," Stiles sits up. "Still is."
"Stiles has neglected to tell his friends about his wound," Sam chimed in.
"Of course you have. Look, they need to be on board if you want to live. We are going to need all of the power we can get. I might need to siphon from them," she doesn't lose eye contact now. "Stiles, we are gonna fix this." He nods with a swallow.
   "I changed my mind," Derek sat in the drivers seat. "We are telling everyone."
    "Derek."
   "Don't... This is way worse then even you anticipated. Stiles, you might die!" Derek shook his head. "We don't know how this works and if you don't tell them I am. Today."
    "I'm with him on this," Jackson nods.
   "Of course you are! He's the reason you're getting laid!" Stiles grumbled.
    "You know what Stiles," Jackson turned quickly. "Since you found me in London, it has been how you want to do things. How you hate life. How you need to make things right. How you want to do things. Well that's not happening this time because you still aren't looking at the big picture! You don't care about us! You only care about being the hero. Well guess what this is fucking a villain's story. If you cared you'd let us help." Stiles stayed silent as Derek drove.
    "This Alena... How fast does she work?" Scott asks after hearing Stiles reluctantly tell the story. He was careful to word it, as he basically just found out before them as well.
    "I'm sure, she will have something tomorrow," Sam explains. "She and Deaton are working as we speak."
    "How long has it been?" Dean asks. "How long have you known you weren't healing?"
    "I don't know," Stiles shrugged. "I knew that day, that it was taking longer. But magic is weird. Then Deaton took samples or something. And I went back today."
    "You went back today..."
    "You knew for what four or five days?" Theo clarified.
    "I guess."
     "What does all this mean though?" Isaac asked. "So you may die, or you might not? You used magic to heal but it didn't heal. And somehow there's a poisonous herb that's extinct that somehow hit you when? Do we have any definitive answers?"
    "No."
    "That's wonderful."
    "Isaac..."
    "No, it's great. We could have three days. Or ten. Or even a few hours who knows! Once again we are stuck in a situation where you don't come back. Fucking fantastic."
   "Isaac, please," Stiles head fell.
  "Don't Isaac please me. We just had this conversation! Literally, we had it days ago! But this is cool."
"Please wait."
"No I need air."
"Isaac," Stiles stood quickly to follow. Of course his werewolf speed helped him get out faster. "Isaac!" He held his hand out just noticing the gold in his fingers as it trailed up his arms. "Fuck." He shook his hands but it didn't fade this time. The heat rising through his body enough to emit steam from the sweat on his skin.
"Stiles, I think you should come back inside and let you both calm down," Scott was quiet.
"Stiles," Jackson was in front of him. "You're doing that thing again. The heat and the gold."
"I know! I can't stop it! I've tried everything Alena showed me," Stiles was panicked. "What do I do?"
"Okay," Jackson nods. "It will be fine." He steps closer to the other with every word. "We've done this before, yeah? Those calm thoughts. Happy thoughts. Repeat them."
"I am!"
"Okay," Jackson tried to soothe. "Someone get a hose."
   "Is he burning?" Lydia asked.
   "Yes."
    "Is he gonna be okay?" Malia followed.
    "I don't know! Now get the hose!" Jackson touched Stiles now, but a spurt of energy when the kid opened his eyes threw him back into a tree. "Damnit."
    "Jackson!" Lydia screamed but was being held back.