Stiles' Inner Demon[Sterek Fanfic]

Chapter 4

Stiles was stuck between heaven and hell.

He wanted heaven but though that he deserved to go to hell.

After all, he already had a demon in his head. Stiles knew this wasn’t real but neither was it fake, just like heaven and hell, he was yet again, stuck in the middle, almost like an impasse.

Stiles was in a room, half white, the other black. He was torn straight in the middle, unsure on where to go.

On one hand, the white side---heaven was his mother.

Stiles smiled as she materialized out of thin air. She was more beautiful than he could remember. Not only was she sending off a glorious glow, her age lines had smoothed and the scratches on her face from the accident were gone.

But on the black side, hell, was Derek in his wolf form, staring at him with tempting, sensual red eyes. He was torn between his mother and Derek; he didn’t no who to choose so Stiles took a seat where he was standing and closed his eyes. 

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The anonymous caller on the other line informed the officer of a collision in the neighborhood involving a Ford truck and a dark colored jeep. After Officer Stilinski got the memo he immediately called his son, Stiles. 

There was no answer. 

Officer Stilinski called once again and grew irritable when his son didn’t answer his phone. He tried not to think of the jeep being Stiles but as he called his son for over ten minutes, the anxiety was slowly eating him away. He grabbed his keys for the cruiser and rushed to the accident.

Officer Stilinski drove way above the speed limit until coming across flashing blue and red lights, a smashed Ford truck and an empty jeep he knew to be Stiles. He slammed on the brakes and ran for the jeep in hysteria. 

“Where is he?” he bellowed. “Where’s my son? Where’s Stiles?”

The EMT’s shook their heads as if they had lost him and Officer Stilinski pushed his way through them and found a gurney, covered in a white sheet. Immediately, the officer screamed, tears falling down from his face. 

“That’s my son!” he cried. “That’s my son!”

“We’re sorry but we he died on impact. He was gone before we showed up.”

Officer Stilinski dropped to his knees, his hands covering up his face. He lost Stiles. He had broken the promise to his wife to never let anything happen to their son. What was he going to do? How was he going to be able to live without Stiles? The one thing in his life that was constant and safe. 

Officer Stilinski cried for what felt like hours until he wanted to see his son’s face. The shorter EMT nodded his head and reached across the gurney, lifting the seat off of the body. Officer Stilinski stood up, weakly and looked at the corpse that was white as a sheet. His crying had stopped and he quickly looked back to the jeep and then back to the dead body. 

“This isn’t my son,” said Officer Stilinski. “Where the hell is my son?”

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Stiles was still at an impasse, stuck between the light and dark room his mind had taken him to when he died. His mother was in a beautiful white dress with a white halo floating around her head and Derek had shape shifted out of his werewolf form and into the hottest, brooding man he grew to love. He still had no idea where to go: his mother or his love? This was tearing him apart. Why couldn’t he just have both of them in his life? 

“Because you deserve neither of them,” the same, demonic voice appeared.

“Yes I do.” Stiles had grown tired of hearing what he could and couldn’t have. The voice in his head was just that, a voice. It couldn’t hurt him --- well, physically because it did take a toll on him emotionally. 

“I deserve my mother and Derek!” Stiles rose his voice. 

“You don’t!” the voice screamed. 

“I do!” Stiles screamed back. 

“No, you don’t!”

“Yes! I fucking deserve happiness! Leave me alone! Get out of my head!”

And suddenly everything disappeared until Stiles was floating through a tornado or had just fallen down the rabbit’s hole, either one, Stiles was going to an unknown destination with nothing ahead of him but life or death. 

Suddenly, a white light appeared and Stiles had thought that his decision had led him to heaven with his mother. Although he was happy to see her again, there was a pang in his chest that he would never see Derek. 

As his eyes adjusted to heaven, a makeshift of dull walls appeared and Stiles was in a room he had never been in before. He always thought heaven was covered in milk and honey with streets made of silver and gold but when he groggily sat up, he was in a lifeless room, on a very hard bed. 

Stiles rubbed his eyes, making sure that he was seeing heaven for what it was. There was no mistake, heaven wasn’t cracked up as it seemed to be. He was on an uncomfortable bed in an empty room with the shudders all closed, and the air a bit drafty. 

“Hello?” said Stiles, his voice weak and dry. He was thirsty and wished for a glass of water. 

Footsteps echoed and Stiles suddenly looked at the bedroom door.

Derek walked in with a tray of freshly cooked food and a huge cup of iced water.

Stiles was completely baffled.

How did he end up here? 

Stiles scratched his head but screamed from the pain. He looked at his nails and found blood in between them.

Derek growled, placing the tray on a nearby table to aide Stiles. He grabbed the first aid kit from the floor, added more aloe to the open gash on Stiles’ forehead, a piece of gauze to soak up the blood and a wrap that he tightly wrapped around Stiles’ head. All Stiles could do was stare at Derek in amazement. 

Now Stiles was even more certain. This had to be a dream. 

When Derek was finished tending to Stiles’ wounds, he lifted up the boy’s chin to meet his eyes.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Derek growled, his voice hard. 

“I---can I have some water?” Stiles asked, looking at the glass across the room.

Derek rolled his eyes and did what he was asked.

“Thanks,” said Stiles, taking the glass away from Derek and drinking its entire contents in one whole gulp. 

Derek grabbed the glass and had another full one quicker than Stiles could have asked for another. Derek sat on the edge of the bed, trying to read Stiles’ facial expression but all Stiles could think of was how real everything seemed to be.

Was this Derek’s bedroom? Stiles had been in the Hale house numerous amounts of time but never dared to come upstairs. 

“Now, answer me,” Derek spoke finally. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“What do you mean?” asked Stiles. 

“Were you trying to get yourself killed in that car accident or---.”

“Oh.” Though Stiles was depressed, he hadn’t thought about taking things that far, although he had come across the thought multiple times in the past week. “It was an accident,” Stiles’ voice trailed off.

“An accident?” Derek said sarcastically. “You practically asked to die when you passed that stop sign.”

“So what if I did do it subconsciously?” Stiles asked, hotheaded. “It’s not like you care.”

Stiles dropped his head down. He could hear Derek sigh, and Derek grabbed Stiles chin once again, bringing them to look into his green eyes. 

“I do care,” Derek said softly, almost agonizing. “Stiles, I ---”