How to build better friends

How to steal your boss' books

The struggle of building your own friends wasn't the quality, it was the power to maintain them. Stiles stayed up thinking of ways to permanently raise the two. Eliminating the need for the graveyard all together. The answer to this question might be in a book he knows is in Deaton's office, but now that Derek has exiled him... He quickly deduced that he might need a little help from beyond the grave for his spontaneous gambit.

So, here he was, writing necromancy notes in a graveyard at night... Alone... Again...because nothing could go wrong. The moonlight illuminated his writing and he applied a special method of magic with a map to the human body and it's full resurrection as pictures. The diagram was mainly the flow of magic. A lot of symbols on the ground to shift the flow of magic leading into beacon hills, a lot of runes of guidance on the gravestones, and a lot of glowing eyes with incantations. Stiles was used to the dramaticness of it all. To be honest, breaking the laws of nature was kind of fun.

"C'mon, I need a little help," He raised his hands up into the air and two zombies formed up from the earth. Boston and Tanya rejuvenated before him. An audible breath revealed their liveliness to the wilderness surrounding them. But one more figure joined those two, a dog. Long white fur and a big brown spot on its ear animated with the happiness only a dog could bring.

"A dog? What's the deal?" Tanya rubbed it's scruff and it licked her arm in return.

"I have a plan, but I need a distraction," The warlock filled the two in on his little scheme as he drove off to the vet. Didn't take long for Tanya to get into her own little character and Boston to start fidgeting with nerves. Stiles felt a little anxious himself, but that started to disappear when he pulled up to the vet.

"Please! Help!" Tanya burst through the clinic doors, "I think our dog is having a seizure, anyone!" Sure enough, Deaton walked through the barrier and into the waiting room. Boston walked in with the dog in his arms and they were lead into the back. Leaving Stiles to enter afterwards and leap over the counter to the locked case filled with books. Tanya started talking loud enough through the door which was the signal that Deaton was trying to dismiss them. Thankfully, Stiles got what he needed out of the drawer just as they were wrapping up. It felt like a full 10 minutes of rummaging and neatly putting back all the things touched. The more time it took Deaton to notice, the better it was for him to get what he needed. He gingerly closed the door and adjusted the bell atop to not jingle.

"Stiles?" A voice in the night spoke to him, it was Scott coming to work. He silently cursed how punctual Scott was and his memory for not remembering Scott's work schedule. It felt like a sign of their friendship at that moment that Stiles had completely forgotten the more basic aspects of Scott's life.

"Scotty, my man. How's it been? How long has it been - like a month?"

"Uh... Yeah... What... What are you doing here?" Scott sounded almost hopeful and it gave Stiles a bit of grit to work with.

"Oh, ya know. I had to pick up a book," He walked around Scott so the werewolf wouldn't be facing the door when Tanya, Boston, and the dog walked out from the back. Thank god he did because Boston walked through pretending to be angry until he saw what was happening.

"Yeah, about that. I think-"

"Yeah, I don't care what you think. Cause I think you are an asshole. This whole mess," Stiles circled his hand between them and mouthed your fault. He left Scott speechless for a minute and it left a satisfying burn in Stiles's stomach. Before the teen wolf spoke again, Tanya shoulder checked him. He rubbed his shoulder staring heavily at the two and the barking dog. Stiles watched as he became more and more dumbfounded before ducking inside the building.

"Time to go," Boston grabbed his arm and they turned away from the street again, "I hope you know how much we appreciate this, walking and breathing and living... It's so worth everything."

"Thanks and if this works out, you'll get to live as long as I do. Without all my powers being used up while I have you all walking around." He opened his jeep and got in. Glad to be away from Scott and also a little elated at giving him some angsty words.

"What's next? Some of your blood spilt out onto an altar? Casting in Latin while magic blows leaves away from you?"

"No, I'm going to take a sapling, bless it with magic water, and plant it over your graves."

"Wow, that was much less exaggerated. Wait, it's that easy?" Boston was losing his shit in the passenger seat.

"Not really. It's going to act as a totem in the graveyard. I cast the spell once and use it to continue the spell when I cannot. I will be powerless for some amount of time while the spell transfers over to the sapling and it will only affect you two. So, no night of the living dead shenanigans at beacon hills."

"And you got all this from the three seconds worth of the book you read?"

"No, that told me about where I am supposed to make the water. Thankfully, Deaton just picked up this, " Stiles showed them a red covered book bound in some blue yarn, "a shaman's written supernatural practices. I remember something about totems in Native American culture being in here. Totems can be-do a lot of things, ward off the supernatural-like mountain ash or can house dark spirits or represent longevity."

"Ok, so how does that help us?"

"Well, normally, totems in Native American Culture are animals. By making this one a tree, I am hoping it can replace me as the source for your guy's life."

"Like a lich's phylactery in DND?" Boston supplied happily. Stiles looked like he got a bad taste in his mouth.

"Ok, in the future, please don't compare me to an evil undead sorcerer in a fictional game... but yes, a place where your souls can stay so I don't have to pull you back all the time."

"And you can do this over night?"

"Wellll..." Stiles gritted his teeth in dissatisfaction.