Drag Me Down Quick (So they don't notice)

Breathe

      "Pull over." 

      Dean stomped on the brakes and jerked the steering wheel to the right, pulling off just past the sign. It was dark out but Stiles knew every inch of these woods, the Beacon Hills Preserve, where everything that had shaped his life into what it was now had taken place.

     He shoved the door open and lurched out of the car. The air hit him and he came to a stop, standing next to the car. None of the others had gotten out and Stiles felt a distant gratitude for their understanding. 

      After so long in hell, his first breath of air had felt incredible and freeing, but he knew now that it hadn't been quite right. This air, the air of his home, it felt electric, bursting with energy. Stiles could physically feel the forest, welcoming him, opening for him. Absently Stiles realized that this wasn't a normal reaction. He had never felt like this when he had lived here all those hundreds of years ago (only two, don't be dramatic). In the moment though, it felt as natural as breathing and pain. He flung his arms wide and breathed deeply. He felt reenergized, as if he had just woken from the world's most refreshing nap, as if he had not just reemerged from a multi-century stint in hell.

     Stiles could feel the forest, alive, every creature, every plant, all of them rejoicing at his return. In the center of it all, the nemeton. Its energy was weak but the darkness that had been there before was no longer there. If he could just go to it-

     "Stiles." Sam was leaning out the window. "Are you okay to keep going? Cas says the woods are giving off 'unsafe energies.'" 

     It's perfectly safe, Stiles wanted to retort, but he bit his tongue and got back into the car. There was no more panic. Now there was only resolve. He was going to see his father. He was going to see Scott. He was going to see Derek.

      The road was achingly familiar. There was the red light, the random one in the middle of nowhere Scott and him used to make fun of where they had discovered that Allison had come back and had a horribly awkward interaction with her and Lydia. There was the place he had crashed his jeep as he had sped to rescue his father and Scott's mother (Our parents are married, Stiles). There was the stretch where he had found Scott after he had first been bitten. 

       There was the high school. So many things had happened at that school. It was still standing. Obviously Scott had done a good job of protecting the town. There were new buildings and stores but Stiles knew exactly where to go. He found himself leaning over the seat. "Turn left here. Then right on Maple. Then it's straight for four miles and another right on Cedar Avenue."

     Dean made an aborted move to shove Stiles back into his seat but apparently thought better of it and just rolled his eyes. "I can fuckin' drive, kid." He mumbled under his breath. Stiles thought of a retort but it was lost because-

      There it was. His house. It was exactly the same. His dad's police cruiser was parked out in front and Stiles' jeep was in the driveway. There was another car there that took Stiles a minute to identify. Melissa. Which made sense seeing as how they were. You know. Married. Stiles felt as though he was allowed a minute for that to be fucking weird before he got used to it.  

     "Stiles. Are you gonna just stare or are you gonna go say hi?" Dean. 

     Stiles swallowed. All the confidence he had felt just thirty seconds ago was gone, replaced by bone-crushing fear. His mouth was dry and his palms were sweating and he was sure he was about to have a panic attack. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, breathing deeply. 

      "What if-" Stiles swallowed. "I mean, it's been two years. What if they don't want to see me? I mean-" Now that he had started he couldn't stop. "I've seen the movies right, they've moved on and if I just show up it's gonna fuck up all the progress they've made and I'm pretty fucked up so how could I possibly dump all of this hell shit on them, I mean my dad's been through a lot and so has Melissa and Scott and I can't just show up and tell them the truth and last time I was here I actually killed a lot of people what if they don't want to see me and-"

       Castiel clapped a hand over Stiles' mouth. Sam turned in his seat. His eyes were intense and serious. 

     "Stiles. All of us in this car have lost people. We've had to move on and we've had to work hard to move on, but even with all of that if there was a chance we could get any of them back- even for a minute- we would jump on it. It won't be easy, fitting into their lives again, but they're your family. They love you. They won't care, just as long as they get you back."

      Stiles saw Dean's eyes jump to Cas as Sam made his speech. Cas took his hand off Stiles' mouth and nodded. "It is true." Dean shook his head in agreement. "Don't fuck this up because you're scared, kid." 

     Stiles took another deep breath. Then another. He could do this.

     He opened the car door. And immediately closed it. "I can't do this."

     Dean rolled his eyes. "You can do it. If you don't do it I'm gonna be pissed because we did drive a long ways and my baby isn't getting any younger. So hurry up, alright?"

     Sam hit Dean in the shoulder then turned back to Stiles. "Don't mind him, he's old and cranky. Take your time. Do you want us to come with you?" 

     Stiles shook his head. "No. Thank you though, all of you, for everything. And you especially." He looked at Cas. "I guess I would still be rotting down there right now, not about to see my dad. So thanks. Sorry for, being trouble and whatever." 

      Cas nodded gravely. "You should thank Amara, rather than me, truthfully. It was she who brought me back from the dead and gifted me my powers so I could feel your soul and retrieve you." 

     Stiles stared. 

     Dean reached over the seat and grabbed Cas's hand. "We're all thankful to God's psycho sister that you're not dead but that was a little TMI, sunshine." 

    Cas squinted. "TMI? What does that mean?" 

     "I'm sorry, God's sister?" Stiles blurted. He couldn't help it. What the ever-loving fuck.

      "She's gone now." Sam interjected, as if that made everything normal. (It was not normal.) "Ignore them, go see your dad. We'll hang out in town for a day probably, in case anything goes wrong. And here." He handed Stiles a folded sticky note. "Our number. In case of demons. Or anything else." 

     Stiles nodded and tucked the paper into his pocket. His gaze returned to the house. He could do this. He could do this. (You can't do this forever. You'll break eventually. They all do.)

     The car door was easy to open. It was easy to step out. It was easy to cross the street. Stiles stood at the end of his driveway and looked back. Dean gave him a thumbs up. He turned away. He could do this. 

     Stiles took a step. Then another. Past his dad's cruiser, past his jeep. The front door was right there. Twelve more steps. Eleven. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven- 

     The door flew open.