Put your loving hand out, baby.

Part 13

The last chapter! So sad..

Well, I hope you liked the story!

Little warning; There will be smut and blood and gore in this chapter, not your thing? Sorry 'bout that!

Enjoy!

*****

Stiles blocks out all the surrounding noises of battle around him. He is only focused on the bitch in front of him. He knows his eyes are blazing purple. He had never felt like this when he felt the extra pack bonds to Derek's pack snap into place when Derek howled, power coursed through his veins and into his spark.

Blake drops all pretend and with it, her glamour, letting him see her pale and scarred face and the beady eyes that glare at him with hatred.

''I almost feel sorry for you,'' Stiles tells her while easily sidestepping one of her blasts.

''I don't need your pity!'' Blake yells at him before attacking again. They go at it for a long while, and even with the extra strength Stiles had gotten from the extra pack bonds, he feels himself tiring.

He doesn't know how long they have gone at it, but he knows that if they don't finish it quickly, he isn't going to win. And he can not lose to her, he can't lose his pack, he can't lose his dad, he can't lose Allison or Derek. He can't lose anyone.

Maybe it's that desperation that makes him extra vicious, but unfortunately also reckless. He isn't pulling his punches and advances towards Blake. It's when he's almost upon her that he realizes his mistake.

He didn't have a backup plan.

She has grown claws on her fingertips like a werewolf and punches her hand straight into his stomach and twists. Everything seems to halt for a moment. He hears somewhere behind him a scream of denial, but who the scream came from is lost on him.

He coughs and realizes with a dawning horror that he's coughing up blood. He feels a little satisfaction that Blake's face twists even more in disgust when her face is splattered in his blood.

Stiles's knees collapse beneath him, and Blake follows him to the floor, a mask of excited glee on her face, while Stiles can feel his magic ebb away and, with it, his life.

''Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!'' She chants, and she rips her fingers out of Stiles's chest. He releases a scream of anguish because that seriously hurt more than the entering of the claws.

''Give me your powers! Come on, Stiles! Give them to me!'' Stiles hears her but can barely focus. He knows he shouldn't give up. There was a reason why he shouldn't, but the pain in his stomach and the cold that is creeping up on his spine make his mind fuzzy, and he doesn't remember why he shouldn't.

It was something important. Right?

''N-no.'' He stutters out because he knows it's important not to give up. He can't.

But the cold and darkness call to him, no, pull at him, and he doesn't think he's strong enough to hold on. Just when Stiles knows for sure he's done for, a loud roar sounds, and he's suddenly pulled back to the present. He knows immediately who's roar that was. Derek.

He can't give up. He can't leave his pack!

Something primal inside of him snaps, and he answers the roar that pulled him back from the edge with one of his own. His vision turns red, and he sees Blake's shocked expression before he gathers all his magic and feral strength inside of him and pushes.