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Stiles has woken up in way too many abandoned buildings, he thinks as he blinks his eyes. His head is pounding, his arms uncomfortable from where they seem to be tied behind him, to a pillar in a mostly-dark room, the only light falling right on someone who’s – who’s fucking meditating, actually floating above the ground, legs crossed and eyes closed and all. Stiles has no doubt in his mind that it’s Cassius, which makes no sense at all because why is he still alive, why does he still have his powers (he can feel the power, coursing through his veins, as strong as it was before). He doesn’t try to struggle, knowing that there’s no way he’s going to get out of the restraints, they’re probably magically enhanced, but he does pull at them a bit, just to test their strength, and –
“I wouldn’t attempt, if I were you.”
Stiles startles a bit, looks up to see Cassius, eyes still closed, still looking as peaceful and unmoving as before, just as the handcuffs seem to tighten minutely, just enough to bite that much more into his skin, just enough to nearly pull his right shoulder out of socket.
“Fuck,” he hisses, letting his head fall back against the pillar, eyes closing at the pain. They open a moment later, look back to Cassius, who by this time has unfolded his legs and is landing softly on the cement of whatever building they’re in. He’s looking at Stiles with the smallest of smiles and a cocked head, as if he can’t quite figure Stiles out. He walks forward a couple of steps before he speaks up again.
“There’s a spell on the handcuffs,” he says, continuing in his very slow walk toward Stiles, “It’ll only get more painful the harder you struggle.” He stops when he’s a couple of feet away from Stiles, crossing his legs carefully in the most graceful way as he sits down, on the floor this time.
He looks different that Stiles assumed he would look, hair thick and curly atop his thin head, face drawn out. He looks quite young, but Stiles figures that’s the power, all the magic in him that’s keeping him young and alive. He’s wearing loose, patterned pants and a plain white t-shirt, feet bare. They stare at each other for a moment, Cassius with the soft smile of his and Stiles with a hard glare.
“I’m still alive,” Stiles eventually says, some confusion seeping into his voice, because honestly, he fully expected to be killed off immediately if Cassius or any of his assumed army caught him. Cassius small smile turns a bit bigger at that, and he nods almost encouragingly.
“You are, good observation,” he says somewhat condescendingly, making Stiles glare all the harder at him, “My guess is you want to know why.”
“Good observation,” Stiles returns, voice full of what he hopes sounds more like spite than fear. Cassius laughs at that, sounding delighted.
“I much enjoy you,” he tells Stiles, “Almost makes me wish I didn’t eventually have to kill you.”
“You don’t have to,” Stiles tries, “You could let me go, walk away, go about your – ”
“Don’t bother,” Cassius stops him, holding up a hand, “I’m nine hundred and eighty years old, which is hundreds of years longer than most witches get to live, and I’m more powerful than any witch you’ve ever encountered. If I wished to stop, I would’ve long ago.”
Stiles snarls at that, again to Cassius’ delight, as he laughs again.
“To answer your question, though, it’s because you have two Alphas, and unfortunately I haven’t been able to gain access to the other. You, though, very interesting. I do believe my dear Marìana was able to kill the Alpha. I felt it, before she died.” He purses his lips, rises from the floor again, starts circling Stiles, “But the spark didn’t transfer to me, like the spell would’ve required. Instead, it seems, it went to you.”
Stiles stays quiet. They’d of course figured that Cassius was very powerful, as Argent had explained, but Stiles was quickly learning just how powerful that actually was, if he’s able to detect that Stiles is new to the Alpha status. He’d been able to pinpoint where Stiles was, before, and wait until he was separated from the others in his pack. Somehow, he’d been able to penetrate the field around the house that required any supernatural creatures outside the pack to be invited inside, a standard the entire pack had with their houses.
“Anyway, though. I know enough about your pack to know that they will come to find you, of course they will, but I’ve cast a spell of you all so I know where each of you is at any point, so I’ll know when they’re coming. And,” Cassius lets out a light fucking giggle, “when they do, my children will take them down for me. A few quick slices to the throats and, well, all the power of this pack will be mine. Much easier to do it this way than track each of them down one by one, and an ambush on this pack just isn’t going to pass.”
Cassius stops in front of Stiles again, looking down at him.
“Most powerful pack I’ve encountered in my life. Just had to come down and get a taste for you. And it’s incredible,” he tells Stiles, taking an honest to god deep breath, as if he’s smelling it, “The power of this land will give me hundreds of years more, enough power for a good handful of witches.”
Stiles can’t help it – he growls, because this is so fucked up, all of this. They’ve gotten into more trouble over the past few years than he thinks most packs get into in generations, but this is the only one that’s succeeded in getting any of them killed, regardless of the fact that Derek is alive now. Cassius gives a grin at the sound that comes from Stiles’ chest though, looking down at him as if he’s some sort of pet who’s performed a trick.
“Adorable. You aren’t even a werewolf and you growl at threats. Absolutely adorable.”
“You’re fucking insane,” Stiles spits, doing his best not to struggle against the restraints – he knows it would be an idiotic thing to do, just one tiny wrong move and his shoulder could be ripped from its socket, but he’s so god damn angry, at Cassius and how easily he’s taking all of this. He’s absolutely crazier than anyone they’ve ever faced in the past, and they’ve faced a homicidal back-from-presumed-dead werejaguar hell-bent on destroying them and everything and everyone that’d ever been associated with the pack.
“Ooh, that’s not a very nice word to use,” Cassius tells him, tut-ing a few times as he walks away, “Probably true, but not nice nonetheless.” He stops, spins around so he’s facing Stiles again, eyes glinting a soft orange as he smirks.
“For now, though, I’m going to have to ask you be quiet while I continue with my meditation. You so rudely interrupted it earlier, and honestly, I’ve got a full day ahead of me, destroying packs and all of that.”
At that Stiles feels his vision bleed red, but when he tries to growl, he finds he can’t. He can’t speak, either, his voice completely cut off, and Cassius full out grins before he closes his eyes, crosses his legs, and starts floating again.
Stiles watches him for a moment through red eyes, his control slipping rapidly, and he knows were he a werewolf he’d’ve wolfed out by now, but as it is all he can do is – all he can do is whisper. Whisper, he knows he can – an incantation or something? He knows something, something he’d read in a book back when he was eighteen, something he’d attempted but never been able to do, his magic not strong enough to attempt something so complex, but now – now, with his magic more loose, with the alpha that ran through him, too, he can – at least attempt.
It won’t do any harm, at least, if it doesn’t work, but if it does – god if it does, he can save his pack, he can –
He whispers at quietly as he can, three long verses of Greek, feeling the power surge through him, in his veins, keeping his eyes – slowly bleeding back to full colour – on Cassius, just in case he senses it or something, but he seems too deep in meditation to be aware of what Stiles is doing – and –
A moment later he feels calm again, more settled than before, and he sees a small ball of glowing matter float from behind him to near his head. Cassius’ eyes are still closed, and as far as Stiles can see there isn’t anyone else in the building with them. He looks to the glowing ball, then, wills it to go, find someone from his pack, and it floats off, up, through the ceiling in a matter of seconds.
And he feels weirdly calm, then. He sighs, leans his head back against the pillar behind him, shoulder on fire and wrists slick with the blood from the cuts the handcuffs are causing him, keeps his eyes on Cassius just in case, and knows he just has to wait it out, now.
***
“How the fuck did this even happen,” Lydia says more than asks the room at large. They’re in Stiles’ room, her and Derek and Scott and Kira, the other’s rounding out the woods behind the Stilinski house, hoping to find some sort of clue. Lydia's looking over the enchantments on the house, the ones that are supposed to prevent any supernatural creature of any kind outside of the pack from entering the house unless explicitly invited by a member of the pack, but they seem fine – intact, as far as she can tell – and it’s honestly scaring her.
“He must’ve disarmed the runes, somehow,” Derek says, shaking his head, sounding as exhausted and worried and frustrated as they all feel.
“Which should be impossible unless you’re the one who set them up, right?” Scott asks, to which Kira nods.
“I think we might’ve underestimated his power,” Lydia replies, then shakes her head and sighs, looking down at the bloodstone which still lay on the ground in the middle of the room, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve agreed to let him go alone, but honestly, this house is supposed to be safe – ”
“It’s not your fault,” Derek tells her gently, “Any more than it is the rest of ours. Cassius is determined to get what he wants, and with a witch as powerful as he is – ” He stops, shrugs, doesn’t want to say what they’re thinking right then – that they’ve really met their match, this time. Kate, the Nogitsune, the fucking Cyclops – they’d been bad, but they’d still had to play by the rules of the supernatural, of magic.
It seems like Cassius doesn’t.
“Uh, guys?” Kira says after a moment, voice high, looking at something by the window. They all look over to see – something glowing, a soft blue colour, and Lydia quickly backs away from the window.
“What is that?” he hears Kira ask, but it’s faded, in the background, because Derek, he – he knows what it is. Or, rather, who. What and who it is. He takes a step toward it.
“Derek,” Scott warns, and Derek glances back at him, to see all three of them, and Isaac who’s now standing in the doorway, watching him with careful expressions. He smiles a bit at them, shakes his head.
“It’s Stiles,” he says, unsure because how could they not know, it’s so obvious. He reaches out – hears the sucking in of breath behind him, the short “don’t” from Lydia but the glow reaches for Derek at the same time, and as soon as they touch it’s – gone. But not gone, instead it gets sucked into Derek, he can feel it – see it – travel through the veins in his arm, up to his chest where it sits for a second, lighting his chest up blue, before it fades, and he –
“Holy fuck,” he whispers, blood rushing through his ears, a slow buzzing forming in his head as he closes his eyes.
“Derek!” he hears faintly, he thinks from Lydia, but he can hear something else, too, thoughts racing through his head that aren’t his. He feels fucking crazy for a second before he starts to recognize the thoughts, the way they’re moving, quickly from one to another, and though he can’t latch on to any one and see it in full, he hears – sees – bits and pieces, things like Cassius and holy shit this and fucking crazy and fuck fuck fuck painful and DerekScottCoraIsaacLydia.
He thinks and breaths at the same moment, a small “Stiles,” escaping his lips, and with it the thoughts just – stop.
Derek? appears after a moment, everything else silent, black.
“Stiles,” he says again, and there’s a half second pause before thoughts start rushing in from every direction.
Holy shit Derek – thank fuck you got this – dunno where I am – Cassius is here – Derek is everyone else – there’s these – I can’t do anything – did a spell? – holy shit I can’t believe this worked –
“You’ve got to shut up for a moment,” Derek replies, and the thoughts stop again, only a trailing wisp of “a trap” floating by.
“Derek!” he hears again, not in his head this time, and his eyes snap open as he turns, to see the others looking at him, Scott and Isaac half wolfed out, everyone’s expressions full of fear and concern.
“What’s going on?” Scott asks, eyes trained on him. Derek’s eyes are glowing blue, he knows, but he can’t seem to get it under control, and Scott looks like he’s in a position ready to take Derek down if need be. Derek shakes his head quickly, looking around the room.
“It’s Stiles, he’s – I can hear him, in my – in my head.”
Everyone’s still staring at him with expressions of confusion, somewhat disbelieving.
“He’s…in your head?” Lydia asks after a moment, and Derek nods, blinking a couple of times because there’s still Stiles’ thoughts flipping around in his head, making it more than a little hard to concentrate, and his eyes start fading back to normal.
“Like…I’m inside his mind. I can hear his thoughts, he can hear mine, I think?”
It was a spell, Derek, I did it is what he hears as Scott speaks up again.
“How? How do we know it’s not Cassius?”
“It’s not,” Derek tells him, all of them, shaking his head, “It’s not it’s – I can feel it. You need to trust me, I can just tell, it’s definitely Stiles. He – he says he did a spell.”
Lydia and Isaac still look a bit sceptical, but Kira looks more than ready to trust him, Scott just a bit farther behind.
“Can he tell us where he’s at?” Scott asks at the same time Lydia says, “Ask him everything he knows.”
Derek, you can’t come to get me Stiles thinks at the same time.
“You need to shut up for a second, I can’t concentrate on both of you at the same time,” he growls out, because honestly it all is giving him a little bit of a headache. Everyone stops talking, including Stiles, and Derek closes his eyes, forces himself to shut out his surroundings to concentrate on Stiles.
“Stiles,” he says, and there’s something akin to a sigh that comes from Stiles’ head.
I – I dunno where I am – Cassius is here, he’s alone here I think – his ‘army’ is apparently surrounding wherever we are, he’s setting a trap for you guys –
“Stiles, we aren’t going to just leave you there for him to kill – ” he starts, and he hears a louder, more audible-sounding sigh come from Stiles.
He’s not going to kill me until he has you – well, more like Scott in particular – he doesn’t think he can get to Scott unless you guys come after me, I hope that’s because you’re protecting Scott with everything you have –
“Stiles,” Derek says again, trying to get him to stop, because he can feel – see – something else, a sort of path, glowing the same vibrant blue as the ball of matter that Derek had sucked into his body had been. It – he can tell, without a doubt, it’s a line, connecting Derek’s mind to Stiles’. Apparently, Stiles can feel/see it too.
Don’t even fucking dare Derek this place is surrounded according to Cassius, this is supposed to be an ambush, you can’t just barge in here and risk getting all of you killed and this territory taken away and –
“Shut up,” Derek replies, quickly continuing on with, “Is there a spell you can do that could show us, maybe, how many are guarding you – this place – right now?” I think I remember something like that from a book or something, he thinks, mostly to himself, but knowing that Stiles can hear it, too. There’s a pause, and then a hesitant answer from Stiles.
I…I think there might be. I can try. Until I’m sure you stay PUT though, saving me is not worth the entire pack dying –
Derek stops him there, pushing him into the background of his mind, opens his eyes to see the other four staring at him with various mixed expressions of worry, curiosity, and scepticism. He effectively shuts out the rest of what Stiles was saying that way – because seriously, if he thought for one second that any of them were willing to sacrifice him to save the rest of them, he was kidding himself.
“I know where he is,” he says after a second.
“Let’s go,” Scott replies, and Derek shakes his head, pressing on quickly before anyone can say anything, “He’s – he’s pretty sure he’s heavily guarded. Argent was right; apparently the entirety – or at least most – of Cassius’ so-called army is here. Stiles thinks he’s set a trap for us, an ambush if we try to get to Stiles.” He paused, carefully looked at the others. “We need a good plan.”
***
“Well if we know it’s supposed to be a trap, an ambush, does that give us the advantage?” Isaac is asking ten minutes later, once the rest of the pack has been rounded up, all of them sitting in the Stilinski living room.
“Probably not,” Cora replies, “I’m pretty sure they’re probably counting on us being sneaky and careful anyway, and there’s only so much we can do, even with that knowledge.”
“So what can we do, then?” Kira asks, the slight desperation they’re all no doubt feeling creeping into her voice. Derek hears Scott start to reply, but at the same moment Stiles’ voice is in his head again.
I think…I think I can do something. It might not tell you exactly how many but…give me a moment.
Derek shuts his eyes, carefully blocking out what the rest of the pack is saying. There’s a few jumbled words in what he recognizes as Latin and then he feels a surge of power, followed by utter calmness and then…
Shit, Derek, can you –
He can, he can feel the presence surrounding the place where Stiles is being kept, can see the bodies as red bodies of warmth, which is –
“I know exactly where everyone is stationed,” Derek suddenly says, opening his eyes, interrupting – he’s not sure who, but he knows he interrupted someone. Everybody’s eyes swing to him, a moment of silence before –
“How?” Allison asks, which is followed by various noises of agreement to her question.
“Stiles did – something, another spell, I can feel them, I can tell you where they’re at, where they’re moving.”
There’s another beat of silence before Malia and Erica and Kira all jump up.
“Let’s go then,” Erica is the first to say, and Derek just nods as he hears the near-whisper of be careful that slides through his thoughts, Stiles’ voice as clear as day.
***
They end up just outside of Beacon County limits, thick woods blocking what Derek can tell is some sort of building, maybe an abandoned factory or a – or an old house. The entire pack is looking toward him as he assesses the situation, feeling a small presence just a mile or so away from them – powerful enough to be more than one person, and if he listens carefully he can hear a faint conversation.
“Do your best not to get bitten or scratched,” Scott reminds the rest of the pack, “No doubt that Cassius has given these ‘wolves the same spell that the omega that killed Derek had.”
We’re here Derek is thinking, still trying to better pinpoint the different blobs of red that he can faintly see. There’s a breath, then Stiles replying with Don’t get caught. Or die, please.
Derek does his best not to snort, hearing Scott saying something else in the background. He waits a few more moments until the rest of the pack has fallen silent, then turns to them.
“A little more than a mile that way,” he points southeast, “There’s a group – I don’t know how many. Scott, take Cora, Allison, Malia, Boyd and Isaac. There’s another couple just beyond them; I can loop around with Erica, Lydia and Kira and we can get them.” He pauses, closing his eyes briefly to feel out the rest of the situation.
“Then we meet back up; there’re are a few more groups around. We have to do this quickly, though; no doubt as soon as we kill them Cassius is going to be able to feel it,” he continues, quietly realizing to himself that if Cassius does realize what’s happening, he might just kill Stiles then and there, absorb his magic – which would probably be even more, considering Stiles was a spark on top of having the Alpha power.
Don’t worry about me he hears from Stiles, stubborn as ever, Do what you have to to protect the territory and Scott.
He opens his eyes again to see everyone nodding, and with a final, “Be careful and be as quiet and efficient as you can,” they’re off.
Derek leads his group far right, looping around where the first group is, waiting until they’re about a quarter mile out to turn and put a finger to his lips, signalling to be quiet before nodding to the other three. Lydia pulls out her throwing knives, carefully arranging them as Kira unsheathes her katana. He and Erica both let their claws out as they sneak forward, hearing a hushed conversation just in front them. They’re only a few yards away when the conversation suddenly stops, a pause before one of the ‘wolves whispers, “Did you hear that?”
Derek throws one glance at Erica before they’re heading far around either side while Kira stays put and Lydia sneaks forward behind a large tree. The ‘wolves stay quiet, listening, but apparently hear nothing as one of the three snorts with a “Yer hearing things again.” It’s another half a moment before Derek makes eye contact with Erica across the field where the three are, two sitting cross-legged on the ground while the third is leaning up against a tree, and Lydia nods as Derek looks to her, coming out behind the tree to throw a knife directly into the throat of one of the ones who is sitting on the ground. Before either of the other two can so much as react with a scream Derek and Erica are on them, slicing through their throats as Kira jumps out and stabs her katana through the chest of the first victim, none of them making so much as a noise, except –
“Kira!” he half-shouts as a were sneaks up behind her, but Lydia gets there first, throwing two knives, one landing squarely in his upper arm, his slash toward Kira completely missing as Kira turns sharply. The other knife lands in the ‘wolf’s chest as Kira slices his head clean off, just as Derek hears scrambling behind him. Before can react, though, he hears Scott’s voice and turns to see the others arrive, eyes wide. Scott has a spray of blood across his face, Cora is limping a little bit, but other than that they all look alive, okay.
“Everyone good?” Derek asks, and everyone nods, Cora sitting down against a tree as she massages her ankle.
“Think I tore my Achilles, it’s healing, I’ll be ready to go in a moment,” she assures the rest of the pack, and Derek turns to Scott.
“How many?”
“Six,” Scott tells them, “Four werewolves, one jaguar, and a chimera. That’s what this blood is.” He gestures to his face. Derek winces in sympathy.
“Good job on nobody getting hurt, then,” he congratulates them, because they’ve taken on a chimera one other time and it had ended with Lydia's leg nearly chopped off, a cut that left quite the ugly scar across Allison’s back, and both he and Isaac had had their stomachs almost completely ripped from their bodies (and that healing process had been slow and incredibly painful).
Cora stands back up, turning her ankle a couple of times.
“I’m good to go,” she lets them know, and Derek nods, focusing again on Stiles.
Thank god he hears as he maps out where the rest of the guard are, followed by a stern be careful.
Can you tell how many there are? He asks Stiles in return, and there’s a pause in any thought from Stiles before a mental sigh and a reply of, I can’t, I’m sorry. I think – this is a bit of a guess but it kind of felt like about twenty to twenty five at the beginning? I don’t think there’s more than twenty five.
Derek nods, mostly to himself, doing some math – ten to fifteen more then.
He tells as much to the rest of the pack, and then they’re off again.
***
Stiles is focusing so hard on figuring out what’s going on with the pack that he doesn’t realize that Cassius has stopped meditating until the witch is right in front of him, smirking down at him like he knows something Stiles doesn’t.
“Your little pack has arrived,” he says then, and oh, that’s what he knows that he thinks Stiles doesn’t know. Stiles doesn’t let anything on, staring hardly at Cassius.
“Since you’re the alpha and you’ll be able to feel it, let me know when they all die,” he tells Stiles, and Stiles can barely hold back the bubble of laughter that almost makes it way up his throat, because worried as he is, he also just watched them easily take down four weres and apparently the rest of the pack just took out six others, and to be truthful he’s got a good feeling. His pack is fucking strong, they’ve been doing this shit for years, they know how to fight and what to do and he just stares at Cassius, forcing himself to stay silent, not smile. He does flick an eyebrow up at the witch though, who just grins maliciously back down at him.
He’s more interested in why Cassius looks happy with the information, because Stiles has just seen four of his pack get killed, and Scott had said that they had taken care of six more.
Unless Cassius was seriously insane (which – Stiles thinks to himself – is completely possible, why the fuck else would he be doing this the way he was?), he either didn’t care that his “children” were the ones dying, or he couldn’t tell.
Why wouldn’t he be able to tell?
He’s contemplating this – maybe all the killing, all the power, has been disconnecting him from his pack, or maybe – when he feels a rip of pain through his side, and he tries to scream out, eyes clenching shut as his mouth opens for the noise of pain. Of course, nothing comes out, but after his brain gets over the initial shock and the blood rushing through his head calms down somewhat, he hears Cassius chuckling above him. He opens his eyes and looks up with a clenched jaw, eyes glowing, and Cassius lets his glow that light orange in return, still laughing.
“One down,” he says, eyebrow raised, and Stiles closes his eyes again after a moment, the pain not as strong but still present.
I’m sorry, Stiles he hears in his head, and that’s when he knows, he realizes, it’s Derek, Derek again, can see Scott’s face through Derek’s eyes huddling over him.
Fuck is all he can think of in response.