Teen Wolf Texts (Sterek And Scisaac Fluff)

Stiles' House

"Is she here yet?" Peter snapped anxiously as he glanced over at Kate Argent's body bound tightly to a chair.
"Not yet, just chill the fuck out. You got the window, Stiles?" Lydia called up to him. There was a thud as the wood panel came off the roof, revealing a large dusty window. The moon shone through it brightly, spotlighting the sheet-wrapped body laying in the middle of the floor. Lydia had been the one to have to move her, of course, because Alison was helping Stiles wake up Derek and Peter didn't want to lookat his dead daughter. It was actually quite disturbing, the corpse of little girl covered in a layer of semi-decay. Pete had managed to keep her preserved well for the length of time she'd been dead, but she still had rot and her skin was translucent.
"Someone help me down?" Stiles called warily, not trusting the creaky ladder. Lydia snapped out of her thoughts on the dead girl and looked up again. Stiles was uneasily trying to work his way down the old attic stairs.
"Derek, get up here so Stiles doesnt kill himself on these bloody fucking stairs," Lydia called out into the hallway. Derek came out of Stiles' room and obligingly helped his boyfriend down.
"Is Alison asleep?" Lydia asked.
"Yes. She sleeps a lot," Derek responded.
"Symptom of the dead. She'll be more lethargic in a month or so, is Janie here yet?"
"No, she's not. Can we just go without her? I doubt she'll wanna see us bleed Kate over her daughter's body,"
"Fine, but we're starting with Derek," Peter sighed. "Drink this," he shoved a bottle of something a his nephew.
"What is it?"
"It'll have you back to normal by moondown, drink it,"
Derek shrugged and drank while Stiles watched helplessly.
"I liked Derek-Miguel," he whined.
"Oh, get over yourself. He's better when he's older," Peter snapped.
"Says you,"
"Yes, says me, so shut up,"
Stiles looked to Lydia for help but she only shook her head. Tonight was not the night to argue with Peter Hale, it was the night to do what he said and try not to get bitchy with him when he was being a shit. He was tense and mean all the time, sure, but tonight he had an excuse. Pete glanced at Stiles.
"You want him here for this?" He asked Derek.
"Oh come on, please don't-" Stiles started, but Derek shook his head.
"Lets go," he grabbed Stiles by the arm and led him out, locking the door when he re-entered. Pete nodded at him and turned back to Kate.
"Lets wake her up,"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bleeding someone out was a lot less gross, and in some ways more gross, than Lydia anticipated. She knew how to gut a deer, field dress it, whatever, and she thought this would be kindof like that.
Ha.
No.
They woke Kate up, Peter taunted her a little, and then they made an incision at her throat. Lydia held her head back while her blood ran over the little dead girl's body. (P.S, a dead child's body covered in so much blood it makes white sheets cling to their tiny lifeless corpse is not something anyone should see. Lydia was gonna have nightmares for years).
Then Lydia left the room to get the blood off her clothes and throw up while Peter and Derek did the hoodoo voodoo werewolf magical shit. She had no idea why, but she didnt think she should be there. It felt secret, or personal, somehow, like she would be crahing someones funeral.
Then came the noises, which is when Peter had told her beforehand to come back in. The horrible, gut-wrenching noises that came from that room.
Apparently being brought back after so many years is painful. Regrowing of bones, organs, skin, reproduction of blood- its a lot to process in the short amount of time a moon gives you. So the regrowth is sped up to take only about five minutes or less.
Just imagine for a moment, if you will, the lifeless corpse of a little girl coming alive and immediately howling in agony. Imagine watching as her hair regrows and her teeth strengthen. Her back arching in pain as she contorts herself, trying desperately to adjust to her rapidly healing body.
It was amazing, in a way. Her skin went from waxy and translucent to milky white. Her hair went from scraggly tufts to thick, curly locks.
But god, those awful screams. More nightmare material.
Peter had wanted her in there because, apparently, Banshees are a comforting presence to newly un-dead. Their mental connections were sensed by the recently undeparted soul and that eased their healing somewhat.
Lydia didn't really understand it, but if that screaming could have been any worse, she's glad she prevented it.
The screaming died out, and there on the floor was a heavily breathing little girl. Peter got on his knees in front of her and suddenly both Lydia and Derek felt like they were intruding.
The girl stared at Peter for a long time, neither of them blinking.
"Why does my mouth taste like someone elses blood?" The girl finally asked hoarsely. Peter laughed, and we won't say he was crying but he was definitely crying.
"Lana," he said, grabbing her and pulling her into his arms. The girl still seemed confused and tired, but she sank into him. "I'm so glad you're alive,"
"Wasn't I dead?" She asked quietly, in a voice that wa definitely a childs.
"Yes, but now you're okay," Peter soothed. "You're okay,"
"I..." the girl trailed off, as if suddenly remembering something or perhaps forgetting it. Then her breath caught and a burning filled her eyes.
This was the last part of waking the dead.
This was the part where she acknowledged her death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Derek and Lydia went outside to keep Ryann away. It took an hour and a half for the girl to go through it.
The acknowledgement is, according to Peter, the worst part, because you remember your death, feel it happening again, and you're still powerless to stop it. And since Alaeina had died in a fucking terrible way, the acknowledgement was fucking terrible.
But an hour and a half later, Stiles came down and opened the front door.
"Peter says its okay now," he said solemnly, letting them all in. Ryann was still not allowing herself to believe her baby was alive. Not possible. Peter couldn't, he wouldn't.
But then, she walked into the living room, and Peter had their angel sitting on his lap. Ryann stopped dead in her tracks. She looked tired and small and scared, but oh, she was alive, with her pale skin, and she didn't have maggots crawling through her.
She fell to her knees as the little girl stood up and ran toward her.
"Hi mommy," she whispered as she was wrapped in a tight hug.
"Hello sunshine," Ryann sobbed. The girl hadn't called her mommy since she was three, but now she was, and she was breathing.
Life is such a beautiful thing, Lydia thought as she looked on this moment. Peter was staring at the girl with this look on his face, and this set in his shoulders, like somehow he had just had the weight of the world taken out of his body and now he could breathe. Ryann was crying her eyes out into te little girls bouncy hair, clinging to her tiny body for dear life as if she was afraid the girl would disappear if she let go. And this girl, this tiny framed girl who had been dead in the ground so long, she had closed her eyes and eased into her mother. She looked peaceful, more so than when she was dead. She looked like she felt safe, and she was. This little girl was the life of Peter and Ryann. Maybe only she had died, but her parents were certainly not alive without her. They were incomplete and sad and they had been partial pieces of themselves up until this moment.
Yes, Lydia decided, life is a beautiful thing, and how dare anyone try to take it away from those who deserve it.