Burn It Down || Stilinski || Book One

Thirty-Three

WHEN THEY ARRIVED at the animal clinic to talk with Deaton and Scott, Sierra was still beaming from what Stiles had accidentally confessed. He, on the other hand, was completely embarrassed and felt humiliated; that wasn't how he wanted to tell her. He was worried that because she hadn't said anything, she didn't feel the same way. But she did. Sierra saw how much it upset him and gave him space so he could clear his head.

Scott noticed the difference in their attitudes when they walked into the back room. Stiles' cheeks were bright red and his gaze was cast towards his shoes but Sierra was smiling and her blue eyes sparkled happily. He didn't ask what happened, due to Stiles obviously feeling a little self-conscious, and instead focused on their plan for the rave tonight. "Ketamine?" he questioned in confusion, seeing the bottle Deaton held up with a needle in his other hand.

"It's just a higher dosage of what we use on the dogs," the vet explained, setting the vial on the metal table. Scott grabbed it to study it more closely while he continued, stating that if they could get close enough to Jackson, the ketamine should slow him down enough to buy the trio some time. Next he held up a glass container filled with a dark black substance that would be used to create the barrier, trapping Jackson and whoever is controlling him inside. "This part is for you, Stiles," Deaton told him seriously. "Only you."

Scott might've told his boss about Sierra's eyes, because he had never seen the aqua shade. Not knowing that Deaton knew Jemma, he was concerned for his best friend's safety. "It sounds like a lot of pressure," Stiles commented, and picked up the object to inspect it. "Can we maybe find a slightly less pressure-filled task for me?" He exchanged a look with Scott, who was raising his eyebrows. "What?"

"It's from the mountain ash tree," Deaton stated with his arms resting on the side of the table. "It is believed by many cultures that it protects against the supernatural." He then motioned to the walls and smiled, "This whole office is lined with ash wood, making it difficult for someone like Scott to cause me any trouble." His gaze momentarily flickered over Sierra, but he didn't say anything.

"Okay," Stiles said with a small nod, "so do I just spread this around the whole building so neither Jackson nor whoever is controlling him can cross it?"

"They'll be trapped," Deaton confirmed.

Seeing Stiles fidget uncomfortably, Sierra spoke up after she grabbed his hand. "That doesn't sound too hard." He looked down at her to see an encouraging smile, causing the corners of his lips to turn up.

"Not all there is," Deaton replied. "Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder until a spark ignites it."

"So Stiles needs to be that spark," Sierra concluded and the vet nodded with a smile. Stiles was about to say something, but the dirty-blonde beat him to it. "No, he doesn't mean you actually light yourself on fire."

Scott chuckled from beside them and Deaton decided a better analogy was needed. "I used to play golf and I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go," he told them wisely. "They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."

"Force of will," Stiles repeated and nodded to show he understood. However, he didn't know if he could handle a huge task that held such risk.

"If this is going to work, Stiles," Deaton leaned closer, "you're going to have to believe it."

"He can do it," Sierra stated confidently and glanced at the boy who was unsure of himself. "I know he can."

*^*^*^*

Later that night, Sierra was sitting in the desk chair in Stiles' room while she waited for him to get ready. She was already dressed for the rave, in a pair of jean shorts with a black bandeau underneath a loose dark grey tank. Black converse covered her painted toes and her wavy hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, but some strands fell to frame her face.