Suffering//void!stiles

Seven

"Shut the fuck up Stiles." Derek groans while rubbing his temples. I want to look at Derek gratefully but I can't get the vision of his fangs from my mind. In my silence, Lydia starts giggling beside me. She slides off of the table easily and her heels click as she slowly makes her way towards Stiles and Scott.

"You guys think your funny don't you?" She muses, flicking a piece of lint from her dress. I guess that since I was too dazed to act cool and collected, Lydia was making up for the both of us. "You think that just because you hear us joking about werewolves it would be so hilarious to pull this."

She stops infront of a flustered Stiles and looks up with pursed lips "Hm?" He opens his mouth to reply but she swiftly lifts her knee and hits him right in the crotch. He falls to the ground and groans in pain while I stifle my laughter and Scott inhales sharply. "Now you guys," she looks at everyone pointedly, "are going to tell us why the hell we're here."

The room is completely silent before a slow yet loud clapping startles us all. We turn towards the dark corner as a figure emerges. "Uncle Peter?" I cry, surprised at this sudden twist. "Hello Darling," he smiles at me grimly. "I'm done." I mumble, walking towards Lydia to lean on her. "It's all true Cal," Peter states matter of factly. "Werewolves, pixies, whatever the hell a banshee is. All of it is true."

"Peter with all due respect, please shut the fuck up." Derek's voice has a hint of venom in it and Peter raises his hands up in mock surrender. "Prove it." Lydia counters, ignoring Derek and turning to Peter. With a shrug, he flips his hands towards us so his nails are facing us.

We watch carefully, looking for something that will prove what they're saying is right and just as I'm about to storm out, Peters fingernails begin to slowly form into sharp claws. I look to his face quickly and see fur sprouting and his eyes morphing into a bright blue. "Okay okay, stop." Derek grabs his hand and Peter quickly returns to his normal human form.

"Wait so I can predict death?" I mutter, spinning around to look at Deaton. "Yes, whether is be a noise or a vision you're sort of like an omen." He explains "Every wolf pack needed a pixie to see whether it would be good to do certain attacks so I'm assuming your mother was Talia's pixie."

"What about me?" Lydia pipes up, still sounding unconvinced. "Well Lydia, you get visions too, that 'news article' you read this morning about the sewer death was a vision, nothing about it has been released yet." Lydia's face goes pale and I recall the noise I heard at the end of the school day. "So what if I heard a dripping noise, does that have anything to do with it?"

"That was probably before he slit his wrists and the blood started flowing, pixies have to be able to predict death before any of the actions have happened." I sit back on the metal table and stare at my feet but Lydia still seems uncomfortable. "Are you anything?" she asks, turning to Allison.

Allison smiles slightly before replying. "Ironically enough, my family hunts creatures such as wolves." Derek and Scott laugh a little but Scott sounds nervous. "Whats the list you were talking about?" I ask, remembering the reason we had forced them into the locker room.

"Someone is paying people to kill every supernatural creature in Beacon Hills, you and Lydia are both worth 6 million dollars for each kill or 20 million for both of you. He wants your heads."

Lydia lets out a laugh beside me and I nudge her but give a little giggle myself. Everyone looks at us quizzically but we just shake our heads in response. Lydia and I are always trying to laugh away our problems instead of crying, and right now I think we both wanted to burst into confused tears.

"Your going to pay for what your friend did, little dove." We all turn towards Stiles who is standing farther away from Scott with a brooding look on his face. I grit my teeth at the nickname and without another thought I march over to him and slap him across the face.

His head flies to the side and red marks from my rings and nails begin to form. He wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb before capturing his bottom lip between his teeth. A part of me wants to admit that he looks hot as hell but I try to keep my expression stony. "Call me little dove one more time and you will have more than a few marks on your face." I look around the silent room and Lydia is smirking smugly whilst everyone else has their mouths slightly ajar. Then my eyes land on Peter with his lips pressed together.

"Oh yeah," he announces, "and Stiles is possessed by a demon."