Stiles hand came out and brushed her face, the hair sticking to his hand like a shadow following a body movement.
She stared and smiled before looking down painfully before glancing back up at him, brown eyes meeting amber.
He followed her gaze and almost started sobbing, the freaking sword was in her stomach now.
"Save me." She whispered choking on her words before falling on her knees. Stiles hesitated but grabbed her and held onto her tightly, sobbing and letting it all out.
It felt like the familiar nightmares he would have of her, he oddly missed the chaos and screaming awake he would have with nightmares just so he could wake up from this. He wanted this to be a nightmare.
Then, Stiles blinked. He was in the cemetery on the ground by himself. It was sunny, and he was alone with a dead crow wrapped in black leather cloth. The same material Allison had wore.
Dropping the crow he backed up, breathing heavy he started panicking as he heard footsteps getting closer to him.
"Hello? Stiles?" a familiar voice called out through the fog.
He looked up confused, Deaton stood there, pale and shaking with blood dripping down his cut up shoulder.
"I need to give you this. G-Go to the nemeton, you have to save Allison." he rambled. Stiles stood up and walked forwards to Deaton's shaking body, his hand out holding onto a small backpack.
"You have to fix this, Stiles You have three chances or else It all fails...and God so help us if it fails." he said his gaze turning on nothing particular.
"What do you mean Deaton?" Stiles questioned slowly.
"Hunters are back. We need her to be our peace treaty. They are after us all, they will kill us one by one."
Deaton pulled out a vile of purple liquid out of the backpack which seemed to almost hum along with a bag of mountain ash that was hanging out.
"What are you talking about?" Stiles finally sputtered out.
"The nemeton called out to me. It called out to you I presume?" He questioned Stiles raising a eyebrow, his mysterious way of speaking always pulled out some way or another in a martyr moment.
"Find her and save her. Save Allison Argent. If you miss those three chances, you will be stuck there forever." Deaton handed him a leather bound book now.
"This is a Grimoire. It shows how to use the ritual. You are a spark, use it to your advantage, don't push it away." Deatons words have Stiles a upcoming panic attack feeling. Trying to control his breathing quietly he paced around.
"You were chosen for this task Stiles."
Stiles froze and angrily spun to see him face to face, beyond pissed. "But why?! Why was I chosen? I haven't even learned enough being a spark, barely able to use much magic. I just know remedies, small spells and tricks!
"I'm just now learning to fight and I still can get taken down pretty fast if I'm caught off guard. I'm not good enough for this. I am not strong enough to save Allison." Stiles started yelling at the beginning of his argument but by the end it was barely a whisper.
YOU ARE READING
The Past Saving.
Fanfiction"I'm proud of us." <><><><> Stiles Stilinski goes back into the past as a twenty-three year old teenager to prevent Allison Argent's death. He was given only two chances to change these things or else he will be stuck in the past. But instead, along...
