Saving Stilinski

Four Druids

A hand shot up out of a shadowy corner. "Here," Stiles grunted, "alive."

To everyone's surprise, including Derek himself, he ran over to Stiles, knelt on one knee and pulled him into a tight hug.

•••

Gerard dropped his cigarette onto a brown leaf floating in a mud puddle. "I never planned on this, you know." He stomped his boot onto the leaf, drowning the fire. "I summoned you to Beacon Hills to stop the kanima, Deucalion. When that situation was... resolved... I expected you and your Alpha pets to be on your way."

Deucalion folded his cane up into one hand. "You know me, father. I'm always recruiting. And if the prophecies about Beacon Hills are right, then this is where I intend to look for potentials. Imagine it... Imagine the power I could steal from True Alphas. I'd be invincible. Truly invincible." Although he couldn't see his father, Deucalion winked in his direction. "That's what you taught me to fight for: self-preservation."

Gerard sniffed away a drizzle of black blood from his nostrils. His lips parted, revealing black stained teeth and gums. "You do your fighting," he said, "I'll do my rituals."

Suddenly the thunderstorm that had been raging for hours ceased all at once. The rain stopped, the lightning hid, the sky swallowed the thunder.

"That's Hale's sign," said Gerard. "They're all in the cave. Time to kill two birds with one stone. Three, if we're lucky."

Deucalion cocked his left ear towards the quiet sky. "His enchantments are better than yours, father. I'd be impressed if I didn't have the same abilities. I have a bit more dramatic flare, of course. The audience expects a good show."

Gerard ignored that. "Now. You keep your promise. Allison – leave Allison alive. The rest of them – the wolves, the humans, even our allies – you have my permission to do with them as you will. But Allison, I still have plans for her."

Deucalion rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. Mother reminded me before I left England. I can't make any promises about your other son, though. If Chris Argent enters the woods tonight, he won't leave alive."

"Good," Gerard spat. "Good."

•••

Derek gently probed the bruising skin around Stiles' wound with the palm of his thumb. His eyes blazed red, then squinted. "You need more than stitches," he said. "I bet she hit your kidney."

Either Stiles didn't hear what Derek said, or he chose to ignore it. He held a small yellowed, leather-bound book up to his nose. The group had started to unpack the rest of the Darach's things in the crate. Peter seemed as interested in the Celtic books as Stiles was. "I swear I've seen half of these Druid symbols before," Stiles muttered. "Not just the one at the bank... In the Beacon Hills public library there's a plate collection from, like, the 1800's or something, and this symbol is on them!" Stiles rotated the Darach's book so that the others could see the drawing: a triangle with two overlapping circles inside it. "And this one... look..." He turned a page and wedged the book into Derek's line of sight. "I've seen this same tree all over Memorial Hospital."

"Stiles!" Derek flicked the book into the teen's lap. "You're still losing blood! Will you hold still so I can bandage you up?"

Stiles pocketed the book. "Huh? What are you doing?"

Derek ripped the left sleeve off of his black leather jacket. "I just told you, I'm—"

"No, I mean..." Stiles' brain struggled to get words to his mouth. "Why are you doing that?"

"Like I said, you're bleeding."

Stiles blinked. "But why... Dude, you can't stand me most of the time. I'm just a human, not one of your werewolf sidekicks."