No One Left

All My Friends Are Dead

Everyone was dead. Only one person left. The human. The weak one. The one that should've died first. But no. Everyone wanted to protect him. So now he was alone. All his friends dead and gone. Leaving him empty and alone.

Stiles was in a constant state of sadness. Everyone was dead. He was finally all alone in the world. The supernatural cluster fuck that is Beacon Hills had taken everything from him. His dad was gone. The good Sheriff of Beacon Hills was now buried 6 feet underground. Scott his best friend since he could remember. Torn to shreds by those bastard hunters. His Lydia. Though she would never truly be his. Had passed away from screaming. She screamed herself to death. And let's not forget Derek. The one who left. He left. He got away. Only to come back after hearing about Scott's death. And then following the Alpha's lead. He too was finally taken by hunters who had been chasing him his whole life. Liam. The kid who became him and Scott's little brother. Went mad. His Alpha died. He lost control. He was killed by normal people. Just everyday people who had a gun and were scared. And took his life. A life that hadn't even started yet. Malia the first girl he ever dated. The newly turned human. Who was killed by family? Her own mother took her life. She had dreams. And now they were all for naught. And to end the deaths. With how everything started. Peter Hale. The man who started up the storm. The storm that blew through Beacon Hills leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. He was last to die. Almost befitting if you think about it. The one who took the life to start everything was the last to leave. 

It's been a week since everyone had passed. Stiles was about to be put back in Eichen House. They said because they were afraid he'd take his own life. Which is definitely a thought that has crossed Stiles' mind. More than once. But he wasn't going back there. Never again after what they did to Lydia. So he got out of bed. And pushed his emotions back. He only focused on one thing. Getting his friends back. And there was no easy way for this to happen. There were quite a few ways to do it. Making a deal with a nasty monster. Or trying his hand at witchcraft. Or traveling back in time. They all had downsides. But nothing as bad as what he was feeling right now.

After some deliberation. He set about gathering ingredients. He went to Deatons. There was no one there. It was empty. Like everything else in Stiles' life. And just took what he needed. If things worked like Stiles had hoped they would he wouldn't need to worry about anything else.

The form in which he decided he was going to fix things was time travel. It apparently wasn't impossible, but extremely hard to do. It had many downsides. Like never returning to your own time or dying if it failed. But those were things Stiles was okay with. He'd already given up on his current time anyway.

He took his battered jeep and drove it into the preserve. He went off the trail as far as the jeep could take him. He eventually had to abandon it. He patted the hood. And grabbed a duffle bag inside his trunk and kept heading into the dense forest before him. Until he reached the Nemeton. It looked as big and creepy as the last time he saw it. But he trudged on and came to a halt at the base. He needed powerful magic for this to work. And even though he has a spark or whatever Deaton had said it was, He made sure to get an extra push by using the Nemeton as a conductor. He took out a large bowl from the bag he placed it on the center of the Nemeton. He then added the necessary ingredients for the spell. The last ingredient, Which was more for the Nemeton than the actual time traveling spell. Which was his own blood. And the instructions said he needed to use a lot of it. So he slit his wrist. He knows that he probably could've done it somewhere else. But if this failed, He didn't really want to come back here. To this state of being numb and empty. As he watched the blood pour into the bowl, he started to chant "         

"Tolle quod tuum cibus et sanguis et utuntur. Omnes rapiunt illud. Suscipe me, et tempus pacis. A diebus coram me est. Uti diximus propter magnitudinem ductum. Hoc corpus percurret tempore quo me figere omne malum."

 He opened his eyes and nothing happened. He waited and nothing happened. He failed. The moment he realized that this was it. He picked up the knife again and cut his other wrist. He cried as his mind slowly faded into nothingness.