The Ties That Bind Us

The Blue House

She had done it. Malia had done it. Stiles could scarcely believe. Things were finally looking up. Malia had found Valack and she would find Peter Hale, and consequently, a way to humanize herself. If that was true, Stiles had a duty to be there for her. He had to help. They had to go today.

As to not call attention to their intentions, Scott and Stiles braced themselves and bided their time, playing it cool. It took a long time to get everyone to stop fussing around Scott, but five hours later he and Stiles were being driven to the airport by Braeden. He had told everyone he was very tired and probably still in shock and that he needed to be left alone. Then both Braeden and Lydia had managed to get them out of Court unnoticed. Yet again. They took a plane to Kentucky, where Peter Hale was said to be living, and then rented a car to go find the address Braeden had given them.

Kentucky turned out to be pretty beautiful as they drove out to Paris. The land was rolling and green as they got out of the city, and it was easy to imagine wanting to live in a little house out here. Stiles wondered idly if that had been Peter's motivation. There were only a few houses scattered around Martin Lake, and among those, only one was blue. Stopping a fair distance away from the house, Scott parked the car off to the side of the road as much as he could. It was narrow, the shoulders covered in trees and high grass. They all got out of the car and walked a little ways, still keeping their distance.

"Well. It's a blue house," Scott declared pragmatically. "Braeden said it was blue. But is it his? I don't see a mailbox or anything."

Stiles looked closer at the yard. Rose bushes, full of pink and red blossoms, grew in front of the porch. Around the house, Stiles could just barely make out a wood fence. A vine with orange, trumpet-shaped flowers crawled over it. And in the back, rising as tall as the sky, was the Nemeton.

"Yeah," he breathed. "This is his house." He rang the doorbell and was surprised when Gerard answered it.

"So," he said, voice bored, an eyebrow raised. "You managed to find us."

"There's literally one lake in this town," Stiles told him. "One blue house. Maybe you had trouble with those directions, but for the rest of us, it wasn't that difficult."

Gerard grinned and made way for them to come in. Stiles went immediately for Malia, who looked just as good as she had in Las Vegas, in shorts and a T-shirt. Valack was sitting in the sofa near Peter Hale. Stiles almost didn't believe his eyes. Peter looked... well, he looked pretty human.

Peter's eyes fell on him too. "Stilinski," he greeted. "You've changed since I last saw you."

"And you..." Stiles whispered. "How is this possible?"

Peter shrugged. "Isn't that why you're here?" His eyes sat on Malia. "It's time, hon," he told her. "The sun is about to set. It's time for you to go under the tree."

"Already?" Stiles said. He felt a little nervous. He wasn't sure what was going to happen or how long it would take, or even if it was going to work at all. And he had just got here. They hadn't even had time to talk.

Malia seemed to share some of his feelings because she said: "Stiles, do you want to see the Nemeton for a minute?" That was a ridiculous question, but everyone picked up pretty quickly that they wanted to talk alone. Stiles agreed and Malia took his hand and led him outside.

The tree was a marvelous thing to look at, but it wasn't Stiles's priority. Malia was. He turned to her and grabbed her shoulders so he could look at her. She looked tired, starving, dead, and still beautiful. "Are you ready?" he asked, voice weak. "Do you know what to do?"

Malia watched him for a second. "Yes," she said, barely making a sound. "I go under. I come back out. Alive."

Short and to the point.