Broken- Teen Wolf FF

t h i r t y

Scott's POV

I didn't even know what to think at this point. Obviously I'm overjoyed at the fact that my brother is still alive, and I would do anything to save him. I know I only 'lost' Stiles for a few hours at the most, but those were the most painful hours of my entire life. It felt as if there was a gaping hole in my chest where my heart was supposed to be placed, much like Theo's sister, except in a figurative sense. If my heart was actually ripped out with Stiles' life, I wouldn't have been able to feel the overbearing pain that seemed to surround me, getting closer, confining me in such a small space I felt claustrophobic. And the really scary part was that it kept advancing, and it probably would have overtaken my entire being if it wasn't for Maddie.

On the other hand, though, it's a little suspicious that Peter would be helping us. Stiles never trusted him, and he's normally never wrong about this kind of thing. What if doing this summons another dark spirit or creature? Maybe one that Peter thinks he can control, when in reality he can't? But then again, Peter was actually genuinely helpful when Stiles was bitten. I wonder if that was because Peter had actually offered the bite to Stiles, and then Stiles was actually bitten. I'm not sure if there's a legitimate connection there, but I'd like to think there is. Otherwise, Peter would continue to be the same snarky and creepy old man that was unfortunately related to Derek.

There are so many things that could go wrong, and I'm not sure if I want to take the chance. Back when Stiles was possessed, it was so hard to fight him when he looked so much like my brother. Even after the two were separated, that dark kitsune still had the face of my best friend, and I promised him to never hurt him again. Not after I kissed Lydia in that empty room...Besides, right now, we still have Stiles' body. Who knows what might remain of Stiles if this goes wrong. Maybe another soul will overtake his body and run off with the last piece of Stiles that we have.

But this was Stiles. I would risk anything to have him back in my life. A world without Stiles seems too dull and unimportant. If we can't save Stiles, I'm not sure if I could be saved. This guy has been here for me for almost fifteen years, and I couldn't even imagine confiding in anyone else. I don't think I could trust anyone else with what I told Stiles- the man that stuck by me when I may as well as completely ignored him when Allison moved here. I was there for him when his mother died, and he was there for me when Allison was killed. Well, he eventually was, and that's what matters.

So with practically nothing to lose, the entirety of both packs are rushing to the Nemeton, along with Peter and Deaton. The moon peeks from behind the heavy clouds, showering the infamous stump in the silvery streaks of moonlight. The woods was alive, with owls hooting, squirrels running in circles as if on a sugar high, and so many other animals that stay awake and keep the forest from getting too quiet. The leaves would rustle every few seconds from some animal, and you could hear the water running from a nearby stream. It would have been calming in any other situation except the one that I find myself in at the moment.

With Maddie being half vampire, it was easy for her to carry her boyfriend, even though I offered to help her if need be. But, of course, she declined. She doesn't seem to like me, judging by her stiff posture when we are involved in the same conversation, but she seems to be warming up to me. She is no longer attempting to threaten me every time we speak, and she doesn't try to cast seemingly harmless spells on my pack 'as a joke'. Her laughter is becoming more real around us, and I think it's because of Stiles. We have always been there for him, except for that rough patch a while ago. She sees how happy he was to be back with his original pack , and how desperate he was for his two families to get along.

I'm still trying to figure The S Pack out. I mean, Connor and Nate are pretty cool and easy-going, but Emily and Maddie seem more hostile and leery about our pack. Maddie beats Emily out in both of those departments, though, and it's been a struggle to get her to open up about anything. I don't know why, though. I mean, we didn't really do anything wrong. We didn't have the power to turn Stiles into what he is- or was, considering he lost those powers. So all we could do was make sure he didn't get into any more trouble that could risk his life. And now look where he is: being carried by Maddie to a tree stump that's supposed to restart his heart. Oh the irony.

As soon as we arrive at the familiar clearing from Lydia's unconscious direction, we rush Stiles over to the remains of the great tree, and Maddie ever so gently places him on top of it. Immediately, Stiles' dark red blood begins to paint the surface of the stump and slip between the cracks. The sight of my brother's blood once again makes my stomach lurch, and if werewolves could get sick, I would have by now. It hurt, seeing him lie there, pale and cold to the touch with no breath slipping between his lips.

Everyone crowds around him likes something was going to happen immediately. Hearts are pounding in anticipation, and it's sound is thunderous in my sensitive ears. But nothing is happening. Stiles' body only slightly jostles when Liam trips and knocks into his foot, thus receiving fierce glares from pretty much everyone. Sheriff takes his right hand, and Melissa subconsciously takes the sheriff's left hand. Nate surges forward to rip the shredded remains of Stiles' shirt off to expose the deep gashes to the mystical moonlight. Then we wait. Not even thirty seconds pass before I turn to Peter with an unintentional accusing expression. "What are we supposed to do?"

Peter smirks from his relaxed position against a tall tree. "Well, I would suggest fighting." Wait.. what?

Then, the remainder of Deucalion's pack rushes out from their hiding places and charge at us. There had to be at least thirty, and they as a whole withhold the same goal: avenge their alpha.

How did we not notice their scent? I mean, sure we were distressed, but we had to have at least sensed their presence. Then, I get tackled to the ground, which snaps me out of my slight daze.

Well, it's official: Peter's an asshole.