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31_days2013-12-21 11:49 pm
saraste-impi.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2013-12-21 11:49 pm
[December 21st] [Teen Wolf] Exorcise Your Demons
Title: Exorcise Your Demons
Day/Prompt: 21.Like a passion play. Like a sacrifice.
Series: Teen Wolf
Rating: PG-13
It's 8am when the Winchester's come. Deaton lets them in and Scott shuffles around, looking at them warily. The brother's share the look. Dean is a little shorter and seems a lot less friendly than his brother Sam who, despite his outward friendliness, surreptiously checks the exits when they come inside the front door. Isaac, Boyd and Erica are at the back with Stiles and Derek, accompanied by Allison, who's there as a sort of buffer, being from a hunter family.
This is what Derek hears later from Scott, what the Winchester's do when they come in. They made Scott fidget with the way they looked at him, like they can't believe he looks so human, so normal. They are nothing like the other hunters any of them have ever met. Mostly since they don't actually adhere to the code. Or maybe they have one of their own, but with what they've gotten from Deaton, through Bobby Singer, they're not the most forgiving.
But Stiles needs them and that's all that matter for them all.
Derek's back tenses as they come into the exam room where Derek's bent over Stiles' still form, strapped down to the table and under the devil's trap on the ceiling.
“This the kid?” Dean Winchester asks, rather unnecessarily. His eyes linger on Stiles all too long for Derek's liking. Far too long.
Derek doesn't realize that he's growling until the low rumble is already making it's way out of his chest. Which is no good since it's making the hunter reach for his gun. Derek knows that he's not acting rational but he sort of can't help it.
“Dean,” Sam Winchester says, laying a hand on his brother's arm, calming. His eyes flick over Stiles too but they're kind and compassionate.
The beta's are spread around the room, looking at them. Allison comes forward to greet the hunters. “I'm Allison Argent.” She doesn't shake neither of their hands, holds herself at check and strives to portray authority, which is hard with her youth.
And the brother's are experienced. Dean is maybe a little older than Derek, Sam maybe the same age, but both seem hardened and older than their years.
“Dean,” the elder brother says, offers Allison his hand and gives her a flirty smile, which makes Scott growl low in his throat. “Argent, huh? Haven't had much to do with your family,” he continues.
Allison smiles to Scott in a placating manner and he's at her side with wolf-speed, protective, asserting his claim.
Allison stands her ground. “No, you wouldn't. You don't follow the code. I know you've killed werewolves.”
“I'm Sam,” Sam butts in, showing Dean aside, glaring at him. He shakes her hand. “We have no grudge with you as long as you're no threat.”
“As I explained in the phone, the Hale pack is peaceful and they've never harmed a human.”Deaton adds to the conversation. “It's actually hunters who've caused them more harm.”
“Enough!” Derek grinds out. “Can you exorcise this thing in Stiles or not?!” He demands to know. He can feel the way Stiles vibrates with too much inside, himself, the wolf and the demon. “He's running out of time!” He knows that even with the bite having healed the wound on Stiles' chest. There's too many different things inside of Stiles to fit his skin, which looks like it's stretched thin, tight, even when appearing completely normal at the same time.
...thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.
Derek shakes his head, he has no room in his head for movie quotes. Even if that movie reminds him of Stiles and the time the pack watched it together, and the novel of him reading it when his family was still alive. Except... the quote flounders in his mind in Stiles' voice, the way he'd said it, saying the lines along with the actor in the movie.
But this wasn't some old hobbit, this was Stiles, Derek's once human Stiles, now a newborn werewolf with a demon attached to his soul. The situation was so fraught with possible complications that it made Derek hurt to even think about it. And... how long had he thought of Stiles as his?
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then spoke again. “Can you fix him?” He asked in as level a voice as he could manage. He didn't care if it sounded pleading. Begging. He'd rip his beating heart out of his chest and offer it to these two if they only could help Stiles that way.
And they're right there. Well, the younger one is, the other is staying where he is, focusing on the exits and looking at Derek's packmates with far too much focus. And not so blatantly hitting on Allison even when he's saying nothing, not even deterred by Scott's growl, or his partially wolfed-out face. Seems to egg him on more than anything.
“You're the alpha, right?” the taller brother asks Derek as he stands to a still next to Derek but still outside the salt line. Derek glances at him, sees the book in his hands. “I'm Sam. Sam Winchester.”
“Yes. I'm Derek Hale,” Derek grits out, not bothering to withhold his name because it's bound to come up anyway at some point. He doesn't offer the young hunter his hand. Partly because he doesn't want to, can't, let go of his hold on Stiles's wrists. The pulse he feels under his fingertips keeps him focused. He might not shake hands with the man anyway. He doesn't smell as hostile as his brother but he isn't as friendly as his face gives tell and also, there's the underlying scent of sulfur mixed into his blood. Old but still there, just a hint of it.
It gives Derek pause and he turns more to look at Sam Winchester properly. The words are out before he can stop them, keep them in, swallow them.
“You've been possessed?”
Sam stands still, his face drawn, staring at Derek. His heart hammers a little, not scared but not stoic either. He swallows, looks askance and then back at Derek. “Yeah. Both of us have been, at one point.” But we're safe now.”
It's not a lie but it's not the complete truth either, Derek can tell. But he doesn't really care one way or another. It's all about Stiles. Doesn't keep him from asking. “What about after, how did you?...” Derek doesn't really quite know what words to use. How can you ask someone who's been possessed what it felt like? How they coped afterward? What kind of nightmares they'd had? He doesn't know what to do with the sympathy he feels for the brother's, either.
Sam Winchester scoffs. “Well, being possessed by a demon hasn't been the most horrible life experience that I've had.” A dark shadow crosses past his face until it settles. “I got over it.”
Then, he steps over the salt line and Derek's body tenses until he can make it relax, make his wolf see the man as someone there to help, not the threat which is his first reaction. He kind of wants to rebuke him, say it's nothing one could forget. Yet, he was the one who gave Stiles the bite, gave him the bite without his verbal consent, because he couldn't speak, so who is he to say anything.
“Ready?” Sam Winchester asks and Derek just nods. Then Sam leans closer to take off the gag and Derek winces. Well, to their credit, no-one had told them they didn't need to have Stiles gagged while he was under the devil's trap.
Later, Derek does his utmost to block out the memory of the exorcism. During, he focuses on Stiles' heartbeat, tunes out the demon's ramblings and tries to only hear Stiles' heart, breathing and the Latin exorcism which comes so easily out of Sam Winchester. The words seem so familiar to him, their cadence so practiced that Derek has no doubts that he hasn't exorcised scores of demons.
Stiles body arches up on the steel examination table, his bounds snapping, the demon screams and then it's pouring out of Stiles' mouth as thick black smoke. Derek only has eyes for Stiles' face so he doesn't know where it goes after.
Before Derek can blink, Stiles is shooting up, up into his arms and sobbing into his shoulder, shaking and trembling, his heart beating a mile a minute. The rush of Stiles, his original scent and the wolf now settled, wash over Derek as he closes his eyes, breathes in deep and just holds Stiles.
He doesn't hear what the hunters say, doesn't care. They could shoot him full of wolf's bane bullets and he would die content, as long as Stiles is safe. And he is. For the first time in days, he's safe. Altered, yes. Changed through pain and terror. Whole? Maybe. At least in body if maybe not in mind.
“My dad?” Stiles asks with a croaky used and rough voice, very unlike himself.
“He's gonna be fine,” Derek tells him, gripping Stiles like he would vanish at any given moment. “I love you, you know?” He whispers into the skin on Stiles' neck, pressing his lips in the wake of his words.
“I know,” Stiles answers and all is well. At least until they have to come apart and face the mess the demon made of Stiles' life. “Me too.”
Day/Prompt: 21.Like a passion play. Like a sacrifice.
Series: Teen Wolf
Rating: PG-13
It's 8am when the Winchester's come. Deaton lets them in and Scott shuffles around, looking at them warily. The brother's share the look. Dean is a little shorter and seems a lot less friendly than his brother Sam who, despite his outward friendliness, surreptiously checks the exits when they come inside the front door. Isaac, Boyd and Erica are at the back with Stiles and Derek, accompanied by Allison, who's there as a sort of buffer, being from a hunter family.
This is what Derek hears later from Scott, what the Winchester's do when they come in. They made Scott fidget with the way they looked at him, like they can't believe he looks so human, so normal. They are nothing like the other hunters any of them have ever met. Mostly since they don't actually adhere to the code. Or maybe they have one of their own, but with what they've gotten from Deaton, through Bobby Singer, they're not the most forgiving.
But Stiles needs them and that's all that matter for them all.
Derek's back tenses as they come into the exam room where Derek's bent over Stiles' still form, strapped down to the table and under the devil's trap on the ceiling.
“This the kid?” Dean Winchester asks, rather unnecessarily. His eyes linger on Stiles all too long for Derek's liking. Far too long.
Derek doesn't realize that he's growling until the low rumble is already making it's way out of his chest. Which is no good since it's making the hunter reach for his gun. Derek knows that he's not acting rational but he sort of can't help it.
“Dean,” Sam Winchester says, laying a hand on his brother's arm, calming. His eyes flick over Stiles too but they're kind and compassionate.
The beta's are spread around the room, looking at them. Allison comes forward to greet the hunters. “I'm Allison Argent.” She doesn't shake neither of their hands, holds herself at check and strives to portray authority, which is hard with her youth.
And the brother's are experienced. Dean is maybe a little older than Derek, Sam maybe the same age, but both seem hardened and older than their years.
“Dean,” the elder brother says, offers Allison his hand and gives her a flirty smile, which makes Scott growl low in his throat. “Argent, huh? Haven't had much to do with your family,” he continues.
Allison smiles to Scott in a placating manner and he's at her side with wolf-speed, protective, asserting his claim.
Allison stands her ground. “No, you wouldn't. You don't follow the code. I know you've killed werewolves.”
“I'm Sam,” Sam butts in, showing Dean aside, glaring at him. He shakes her hand. “We have no grudge with you as long as you're no threat.”
“As I explained in the phone, the Hale pack is peaceful and they've never harmed a human.”Deaton adds to the conversation. “It's actually hunters who've caused them more harm.”
“Enough!” Derek grinds out. “Can you exorcise this thing in Stiles or not?!” He demands to know. He can feel the way Stiles vibrates with too much inside, himself, the wolf and the demon. “He's running out of time!” He knows that even with the bite having healed the wound on Stiles' chest. There's too many different things inside of Stiles to fit his skin, which looks like it's stretched thin, tight, even when appearing completely normal at the same time.
...thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.
Derek shakes his head, he has no room in his head for movie quotes. Even if that movie reminds him of Stiles and the time the pack watched it together, and the novel of him reading it when his family was still alive. Except... the quote flounders in his mind in Stiles' voice, the way he'd said it, saying the lines along with the actor in the movie.
But this wasn't some old hobbit, this was Stiles, Derek's once human Stiles, now a newborn werewolf with a demon attached to his soul. The situation was so fraught with possible complications that it made Derek hurt to even think about it. And... how long had he thought of Stiles as his?
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then spoke again. “Can you fix him?” He asked in as level a voice as he could manage. He didn't care if it sounded pleading. Begging. He'd rip his beating heart out of his chest and offer it to these two if they only could help Stiles that way.
And they're right there. Well, the younger one is, the other is staying where he is, focusing on the exits and looking at Derek's packmates with far too much focus. And not so blatantly hitting on Allison even when he's saying nothing, not even deterred by Scott's growl, or his partially wolfed-out face. Seems to egg him on more than anything.
“You're the alpha, right?” the taller brother asks Derek as he stands to a still next to Derek but still outside the salt line. Derek glances at him, sees the book in his hands. “I'm Sam. Sam Winchester.”
“Yes. I'm Derek Hale,” Derek grits out, not bothering to withhold his name because it's bound to come up anyway at some point. He doesn't offer the young hunter his hand. Partly because he doesn't want to, can't, let go of his hold on Stiles's wrists. The pulse he feels under his fingertips keeps him focused. He might not shake hands with the man anyway. He doesn't smell as hostile as his brother but he isn't as friendly as his face gives tell and also, there's the underlying scent of sulfur mixed into his blood. Old but still there, just a hint of it.
It gives Derek pause and he turns more to look at Sam Winchester properly. The words are out before he can stop them, keep them in, swallow them.
“You've been possessed?”
Sam stands still, his face drawn, staring at Derek. His heart hammers a little, not scared but not stoic either. He swallows, looks askance and then back at Derek. “Yeah. Both of us have been, at one point.” But we're safe now.”
It's not a lie but it's not the complete truth either, Derek can tell. But he doesn't really care one way or another. It's all about Stiles. Doesn't keep him from asking. “What about after, how did you?...” Derek doesn't really quite know what words to use. How can you ask someone who's been possessed what it felt like? How they coped afterward? What kind of nightmares they'd had? He doesn't know what to do with the sympathy he feels for the brother's, either.
Sam Winchester scoffs. “Well, being possessed by a demon hasn't been the most horrible life experience that I've had.” A dark shadow crosses past his face until it settles. “I got over it.”
Then, he steps over the salt line and Derek's body tenses until he can make it relax, make his wolf see the man as someone there to help, not the threat which is his first reaction. He kind of wants to rebuke him, say it's nothing one could forget. Yet, he was the one who gave Stiles the bite, gave him the bite without his verbal consent, because he couldn't speak, so who is he to say anything.
“Ready?” Sam Winchester asks and Derek just nods. Then Sam leans closer to take off the gag and Derek winces. Well, to their credit, no-one had told them they didn't need to have Stiles gagged while he was under the devil's trap.
Later, Derek does his utmost to block out the memory of the exorcism. During, he focuses on Stiles' heartbeat, tunes out the demon's ramblings and tries to only hear Stiles' heart, breathing and the Latin exorcism which comes so easily out of Sam Winchester. The words seem so familiar to him, their cadence so practiced that Derek has no doubts that he hasn't exorcised scores of demons.
Stiles body arches up on the steel examination table, his bounds snapping, the demon screams and then it's pouring out of Stiles' mouth as thick black smoke. Derek only has eyes for Stiles' face so he doesn't know where it goes after.
Before Derek can blink, Stiles is shooting up, up into his arms and sobbing into his shoulder, shaking and trembling, his heart beating a mile a minute. The rush of Stiles, his original scent and the wolf now settled, wash over Derek as he closes his eyes, breathes in deep and just holds Stiles.
He doesn't hear what the hunters say, doesn't care. They could shoot him full of wolf's bane bullets and he would die content, as long as Stiles is safe. And he is. For the first time in days, he's safe. Altered, yes. Changed through pain and terror. Whole? Maybe. At least in body if maybe not in mind.
“My dad?” Stiles asks with a croaky used and rough voice, very unlike himself.
“He's gonna be fine,” Derek tells him, gripping Stiles like he would vanish at any given moment. “I love you, you know?” He whispers into the skin on Stiles' neck, pressing his lips in the wake of his words.
“I know,” Stiles answers and all is well. At least until they have to come apart and face the mess the demon made of Stiles' life. “Me too.”