Drag Me Down Quick (So they don't notice)

Aftermath

      Stiles floated in darkness, surrounded by fire and sulfur and the screams of burning souls. He felt no pain, no fear,  no anger. Just a calm resignation. He had never escaped. The last weeks had been a trap concocted by Azalus, more elaborate than anything previous but just a trap. Stiles might have fallen for it for a minute, but he knew better now. He was resigned.

      Stiles...

      A gentle light bathed him. Stiles should be concerned, should fight it, but he couldn't find it in himself to struggle. It was so warm, so comforting. 

      Something was coming nearer, and as it approached the last of the hell that surrounded Stiles was chased away in the gentle light. 

     Spark. You have suffered much. 

     Stiles raised his head and found that he had to shield his eyes to look at the source of the light.      

       A large fox with nine tails stood before him, glowing silver. Memories slammed into Stiles, the last desperate moments, reaching into the nemeton. This fox was nothing like the small, pathetic creature Stiles had found originally. This was the nemeton restored to its truest form.

      You have fought well. You have fulfilled your purpose. Rest now and be at piece with your true mate. 

      The fox approached until it stood over Stiles. It bent down and nosed at his hair. 

      Stiles felt desperation overtake him. He reached for the nemeton. He didn't want to return to the darkness that surrounded him, or the trauma of living with what had happened to him. He didn't want to leave the light that soothed his hurts. 

       Shhh, young one. You have many years of peace ahead of you. You will take care of us and we will take care of you in return. Now wake.

   The world turned white once again.

    Stiles awoke cradled in the roots of the nemeton. Golden light filled the clearing. Screaming echoed through the forest. Stiles sat up just in time to witness Azalus be engulfed in golden light and vanish, his screams cutting off abruptly. Stiles looked down, the golden light was coming from him. As he watched, the light faded back into him. Fireflies lit the clearing.

   There was a harsh growl and Stiles watched Derek tear out Peter's throat for the second time. Derek was halfway across the clearing towards Stiles before Peter's body even hit the ground. Stiles felt the missing bonds in his chest flare to life again just before Derek crashed into him, wrapping Stiles in a familiar scent of leather and blood. 

    "You stupid idiot." Derek breathed into Stiles' hair. 

    Stiles returned the hug as best he could, but there were roots pressing into his back and he could barely breath with the force Derek was exerting. Gasping for air, Stiles patted Derek on the back. 

     "Good to see you too, buddy, but do you mind not killing me, you know, since we just survived almost being killed?" He squirmed.

     Immediately Derek pulled back. He cupped Stiles' face in his large hands and tilted it up to meet his. Stiles reached up and grasped Derek's wrist, holding his hand more firmly to his face. Their foreheads leaned together and Stiles took a moment to just breathe. He could feel Derek's breath on his face and something slotted into place. 

   "Don't ever do that again," Derek whispered.

    Stiles smiled slightly. "You either, sourwolf. You're welcome by the way, for saving your ass."

    Derek snorted, then quickly sobered up. He pulled away slightly and looked around the clearing. 

     Stiles finally noticed the rest of the pack, the wolves having broken out of their bonds and were cutting the humans down.