listen to: medicine - daughter
tip: listen to this song while you read to get the full emotional affect of the chapter hehe
editing later i promise :)
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Thankfully, after our moment in the boy's locker room (of all places), Stiles seemed to be fine. No more panic, no more fear... but I could still see the immense pain his dark eyes held.
It was so hard to watch Stiles' personality be darkened because of Jennifer's wicked ways. I felt the need to protect him at all costs; emotionally and physically. He has always been part of the pack, whether he was a supernatural creature or not.
Though now, as I stood outside the guidance counselor's office, I felt like I had completely failed.
I had gotten too wrapped up in my own emotions and personal vendettas that I'd forgotten who I truly was and what I was meant to do. I'd become obsessed with my own agenda against Jennifer and Deucalion, when I really should have been focusing solely on the pack.
A sigh escaped my lips and I leaned back on the wall next to the office door, folding my arms over my chest. One question kept seeping into my thoughts: how does my past always manage to catch up with me?
Suddenly, the door next to my shoulder flew open, a large, dark-skinned girl scurrying out. She didn't even spare me a glance as she made her way down the hallway, muttering to herself, "She can have my session she obviously has bigger problems. Trees, trees, trees..."
My eyebrows furrowed as I watched her figure grow smaller and smaller as she got farther away. Trees?
I propped myself up again and decided to make my way into the counselor's office.
But before I could even turn the corner into the room, Stiles and Lydia barged out. I quickly followed after them, my hand squeezing Stiles' shoulder as I asked the second question that had been on my mind lately: "Did you find anything?"
"I know where they are," he said quickly. "It's called the Nemeton. That's where she's keeping them. It has to be."
My eyes grew wide and I stopped in my tracks. Stiles and Lydia stopped as well, turning to face me.
"Stiles, I've been there before," I said. "When I first came to Beacon Hills, I kind of... died on it."
His mouth dropped open in shock, but he quickly recovered with a quick shake of his head. "I'll pretend you didn't just tell me that."
"Y-eah," I said slowly. "Anyway, the last time I was there, I went through the Burning. That means that, along with my wounds, I lost my memory as well." I frowned to myself. "I can't remember where it was."
Stiles and Lydia sighed at the same time, but before either one could tell me how unfortunate my memory loss was, a voice boomed from behind us.
"Stilinski!"
I looked past Stiles to see Agent McCall coming our way. "Fuck," I cursed.
Stiles turned to Lydia. "Go to Derek, okay? He and Peter have been there before and they should know where it is. Just tell them it's the root cellar. They'll know what you mean."
Lydia gave him a curt nod, obviously overwhelmed by the information, but started to walk out of school nonetheless.
Just as Lydia left, Agent McCall appeared.
He paid no attention to me, even though I stood right next to Stiles. "Did you know your dad's car is in the school parking lot and has been since last night?"
He phrased the sentence as a question, but his tone was accusing.
Stiles' face dropped. "No. What does that mean?"
"It means he's officially missing." The agent tilted his head to the side, finally acknowledging my presence. "Why don't we all have a little chat?"
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Agent McCall and Stiles sat down across from each other, both of them sitting on top of a desk. I chose to stand, still not comfortable with the fact that Scott's dad was basically interrogating Stiles.
"Why am I getting the feeling that you know something that could help us find your dad?" the agent asked, his gaze directed solely on Stiles.
I tapped my foot on the floor, trying to control the rage building up inside of me.
"Are you kidding me? Why wouldn't we tell you something that would help find the Sheriff?" I took a step closer to Agent McCall, throwing up my hands in exasperation. "How the hell does that make any sense!" I yelled.
Stiles put a hand on my chest, pushing me away from Mr. McCall before I could beat the living crap out of him. I took deep breaths to refrain from channeling my power and scaring him even more, though I wanted to so badly.
"We don't know anything," Stiles said calmly, turning back to the agent.
Frown lines appeared on his forehead as he shook his head. "Where are your other friends?"
Stiles quirked an eyebrow. "You mean Scott?"
"I mean Scott, Isaac Lahey, Allison Argent, the twins Ethan and Aiden," Mr. McCall explained, flipping through his pocket-sized notebook. "I've been told your whole little clique didn't show up at school today."
I rolled my eyes. "First of all, we don't have a clique. Secondly, why don't you get your head out of your ass. Are you even listening to yourself? If we knew anything, we would tell you. It's his goddamn father we are talking about."
"I don't think that's the way you should be talking to an officer, young lady." McCall scowled at me. "There has been a disturbing amount of violence happening here in the last few months. Several murders are tied to this school. I don't know what's going on here, but it's serious, and you should take it serious, too."
Stiles grabbed my hand and squeezed, holding me back from lashing out again. How dense was this guy, going around and saying that Stiles didn't care about his own father's well being?
After about a minute of silence, McCall finally stood. "Fine," he huffed. "I'll go. But I don't want you two going home alone. Do you have someone you can stay with tonight?"
I bit my lip, wondering what great lie Stiles was about to tell, until an unexpected voice piped up from behind us.
"They're with me."
I whirled around to see who in the world was saving us from staying with Agent McCall. I couldn't say I was surprised to see the familiar face.
Deaton.
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I took my place in the veterinarian's operation room, standing stiffly next to Stiles. Allison, Lydia, Isaac and Deaton stood around the two of us as Stiles began to say whatever was on his mind.
"The Nemeton has to be on a telluric current," he started, waving his hands around as he spoke. "Or maybe where they all intersect. I just know it's where Derek took Paige to die."
Paige? I thought to myself, my brow furrowing. Who was Paige?
Before I could ask any questions, Allison spoke.
"My dad and my grandfather, Gerard, were there once," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes were trained on her hands. It made me sad that such a brave girl was feeling the despair of potentially losing her parent. "But Gerard said it was years ago and he couldn't remember where it was."
"Then how do we find this place?" Isaac snapped, obviously annoyed.
The teenagers looked to Deaton, but I was the one to speak.
"When I was coming to this town, I was killed on the Nemeton," I explained, avoiding Stiles' gaze. "But after I came back to life, my memories had faded, which is a side effect of the Burning. If I can regain those memories, I will be able to easily locate where it is."
"And how will you be able to do that?" Allison asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
I sighed. "I'll have to go through the Burning again."
Stiles stood up, taking his elbows off of the table. "That means you have to die, Blaise. And the mistletoe is still inside of you, so we don't even know if you'll be able to come back."
I finally looked at him, seeing his eyes shining with concern. I had to quickly look away before I gave in to his request.
"Deaton," I said, my gaze fixed on the druid's. "You know it is what I must do."
He licked his lips, deep in thought. "It's definitely an option. Going through the Burning might actually rid your body of Jennifer's poison." His eyes skirted from mine to Stiles'. "There is another way, but it's dangerous."
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Stiles nod sharply. "What is it?" he asked.
"Well, first of all, we're going to need Scott."
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While Stiles and Deaton went out to the forest to find the McCall boy, I stayed put with the rest of the teenagers.
"So... what exactly is Deaton planning for us again?" Allison asked, leaning back against the countertop.
"It's an ancient location ritual," I explained, "and I've only seen it done successfully a couple of times. You, Scott and Stiles will be put under ice water and essentially be dead for a couple minutes - this will give you enough time to locate the Nemeton." I turned away from the group, studying the many herbs that sat upon Deaton's shelves. "Then you'll wake up and we can find your parents."
"Is it really that easy?" Lydia asked.
I bit my lower lip, not wanting to answer her question.
An uncomfortable silence settled in the room as everyone thought about the fact that their friends will have to die in order to find their parents. It was such a ridiculous thought to have as a seventeen year old that I almost laughed out loud right then. Surrogate sacrifices. I shook my head, a sad smile upon my lips.
Everyday, for the rest of their lives, Allison, Scott and Stiles will have a darkness around their hearts simply because they had to play a game with Death to find their missing parents. This darkness had already latched itself around my heart; the same darkness I had tried so hard to protect Beacon Hills from enduring.
Why did the Universe have to punish these children with so much pain?
"Blaise."
A single voice shook me from my dark thoughts. I turned around slowly to see it was Isaac who was calling my name.
His arms were folded across his chest as he stood, almost protectively, next to Allison. He pursed his lips in consideration. "Do you really have to die to go through the Burning?"
I pinched my nose, closing my eyes as a sigh escaped my lips. "Usually my body heals because of the Burning, though the mistletoe in my bloodstream won't allow that to happen. My theory is if I go through the Burning completely, then I'll be healed and regain my memories."
His eyes drifted down to the floor. "But you don't know if it will heal you... like, at all. You say it's just a theory."
"Yes." I looked back up at the teenagers, wanting them to know how serious I was. "I don't know if I'll come back."
Lydia's lower lip wobbled slightly. "Blaise... we need you. All of us."
A ghost of a smile played on my lips. "Do you?"
Before any of the teenagers could respond, Deaton, Stiles and Scott burst through the door. The druid had a somber look on his face as his gaze swept the room and he noticed the dreary atmosphere between us.
"Well," he said, "are you ready?"
Allison dug her hands into the pockets of her jacket, a frown etching itself onto her face. "As ready as we'll ever be."
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While the group was preparing the ice baths, I stood outside with Deaton.
He held a box of matches in his fist by his side and, although it was dark out, I could see his hand twitched as if he were unsure about my decision.
"Phoenix," he addressed me, his tone formal. "Do you know the consequences of your sacrifice as well? You are doing the same as the kids are; it is a near-death experience."
"I know I must do this," I said.
Shadows flickered onto his face from the dim light coming from the store behind him. He gave a slight nod, then held his palm open to me with the box of matches. "I have to say, Shadow Phoenix, I am impressed. You are very brave."
I frowned slightly. I wasn't brave at all. I was a selfish bitch who needed to get her act together before all of her loved ones died right in front of her.
"I am a protector. Sometimes we must make sacrifices for the ones we love," I murmured. I slowly took the box of matches out of the druid's palm, never taking my gaze off of his. "But promise me one thing, Deaton. You make sure they come out alive." I took a step closer, my whole body trembling with anger, worry, and fear. My finger poked his chest. "You make sure of it."
He was silent.
I took a deep breath, stepping away from Deaton. "Thank you for this," I said, holding up the box of matches. "Thank you."
Just as I turned to walk away, the druid spoke again. "I'll make sure they're okay, Blaise. They'll be okay."
I nodded once, continuing on my way towards the forest.
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My ears told me that Deaton had gone back inside, but after a few minutes of walking, I heard leaves rustling behind me.
With a sigh I turned back around, seeing it was Stiles who stood only a few feet away from me. His pale face was beautifully lit by the moonlight; his dark, swirling caramel eyes filled with so many emotions.
"Blaise," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "Don't do this."
"I don't think you understand why I must burn," I said. "I have done so many bad things in my life, Stiles. A brush with Death might actually do me some good."
He frowned. "Why can't you just let us be the sacrifices? Why do you have to do this, Blaise?" He shook his head. "You're right - I don't get it."
"It's not just to find the Nemeton. I have to do this because I need to find myself again," I murmured, stepping closer to him. My hand rested on his cheek, my thumb absently brushing his soft skin. "I have to find the Phoenix I used to be."
He closed his eyes at my touch, his tense shoulders relaxing. "Blaise..." A single tear ran down his cheek, but I quickly brushed it away. His eyes flickered down to my palm, where I held the box of matches with a tight grip. I stuffed them into my pocket, hiding them from his sight. "Blaise, I can't lose you."
I winced at his words, resting my head on his chest as my eyes began to water. This boy certainly had an affect on me - the feeling wasn't something I could ignore.
"You have to trust me," I finally said after a moment of silence. I lifted my head and looked up into his dark eyes. "Okay? Can you do that?"
"I love you, Blaise," he whispered, tears streaming down his beautiful face.
"If I do not come back, you have to find your father - you have to build yourself a better life. I know you can do this without me." The tears pooling in my eyes spilled over as I ran my fingers through his hair lovingly. "You are brave, Stiles, so brave. Braver than I ever was."
He shook his head. "Don't -"
"A piece of me will forever live within you." I shook my head, my cheeks cold from dried tears. "You deserve so much more than you have. If this had been a different time under different circumstances, I would've given you the world, Stiles. I would've given you everything. I didn't because I was afraid of love. Everyone I had loved, died. I never wanted anything to happen to you."
His hand ran through my knotted hair. "I can't do this without you, Blaise."
"I love you."
My lips crashed into his hungrily and my trembling hands pulled at his roots, wanting to deepen the kiss. His hands pulled my waist closer as he quickened his movements.
The kiss was lustful and passionate; my hands wanted to be wherever Stiles was. We were both more afraid of losing each other than we were of losing ourselves; it seemed to be our fatal flaw.
Both of us pulled away, knowing that sooner or later our time together would have to come to an end. I rested my head on his chest, my breaths heavy.
"Don't go," Stiles whispered, his voice filled with pain. It was a lame attempt at trying to stop me - he knew I was just as stubborn as he was.
"Remember what I said," I murmured, pulling away from his warm touch. My eyes locked with his beautiful orbs and, for a second, it almost made me want to jump right into his embrace and head back to Deaton's office.
But the thought was only for a second.
"Always remember me, Stiles," I said. "Always remember."
His arms hung limp by his sides as he watched me in silence.
I turned on my heel and headed towards the forest alone.
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It was so dark out that I wouldn't have been able to see anything in front of me if it wasn't for my supernatural sight.
I reached out into the darkness, my fingers gently grazing the rough bark of the trees as I walked past. I had no idea where I was going, but something seemed to be drawing me deeper and deeper into the forest.
Suddenly, I stopped. Looking at my surroundings, I realized I was standing in a clearing. The trees around me were spread out, encircling me in an orderly fashion.
This is where I must die.
I slipped my shoes off and threw them off to the side. My feet met the cold, dewy ground, making me shiver. But I knew I would not be cold for long. My hand dug into my pocket, reaching for the matches that would take my life.
I stared at the box that sat in my palm. It was then that I realized the seriousness of what I was about to do.
I was going to die.
There was no panic, no fear running through me as I thought of my demise. Soon enough I would be greeting Death with a warm smile upon my face, patiently waiting until he told me I was going to hell for all of the death and destruction I had caused.
No, I felt nothing but grief. It was my punishment, my curse.
Maybe it would be best if I didn't return. The Beacon kids would be sad, yes, but they would move on. Find new friends. Make new relationships.
My thumb and forefinger reached inside the box, plucking out a match. I quickly struck it against the side of the box, causing a small flame to grow from the head. It was the only light in the clearing, besides the moonlight.
I stared at the flame, mesmerized by its beauty. But maybe its beauty was simply a façade; something that it hid behind so no one would be subject to the potential danger it could cause.
"I love you, Stiles," I whispered, hoping the Universe would hear my final words.
My fingers dropped the match.
Flames erupted from my bare feet, crawling up my legs and wrapping around my waist.
I didn't absorb or shield myself from the flames like I usually did, but rather let myself feel the agony as if I were a human. I deserved the pain the fire caused... I deserved the grief... I deserved it all.
The pain was unfathomable. I stood still, biting my lip so hard that a trail of blood ran down my chin. A scream was trapped at the bottom of my throat; the stench of burnt skin filled my nostrils.
The flames had fully consumed my body, slowly eating away the tissues beneath the surface of my skin. I knew I could simply take a deep breath of smoke and end the pain, but I didn't. I needed to feel the pain that Boyd had, that Castor had, that everyone I knew from my past had.
All of a sudden, my knees buckled and I collapsed on all fours, willing myself to stay conscious for as long as I could. An agonizing scream erupted from my dry throat. I prayed that Stiles couldn't hear it.
My arms gave out and I was on my stomach, the fire surrounding me. It flickered in front of my eyes, taunting me, wanting me to keep fighting although it knew I would surely lose.
But my will was not strong enough to keep my eyes open any longer, and I finally succumbed to the darkness.
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I stood in a pile of ashes.
Noises surrounded me in every direction, the sound of humans speaking in Old Italian echoing throughout.
I blinked once, focusing my vision. Looking down, I found myself in the clothes that I had on when I let the match fall from my fingers. I would have thought they would be incinerated by now, but I didn't dwell on it.
The stench of death lingered in the air, my sensitive nose picking up on the disgusting scent.
Humans walked around me in their ragged dresses and torn knickers. Most of them strolled right past me as if I were invisible to them, but that wasn't the part I was concerned about.
I was concerned because I wasn't standing in Beacon Hills anymore.
No, I was currently in Italy in the year 1300.
I had traveled back to the place where I was born from the ashes:
The Dark Ages.
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the feels jeSUS
hope you enjoyed :) what are your thoughts? comment comment comment!!! ! !
next chapter is going to be longer and AMAZING I HAVE SO MANY PLANS FOR THE ENDING
we are so close to the end of 3a :')
love you guys and love all the support!!! -kati