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“Shh, Der, I’ve got you. I’m so sorry,” Stiles whispered into his boyfriend’s ear as he held him tight and listened to him sob.
The pack was gone, killed so damn easily by a coven of witches too greedy for power. The witches were dead too, overwhelmed by the immense amount of magic they tried to siphon from the Nemeton. The power had gurgled and crackled under their skin as they cast spell after spell at the pack, until one by one each witch was consumed.
The first one had burst into flames, surprising Peter so that he wheeled back, dropping his guard. Another witch took advantage and shot lightning through his heart, killing him instantly.
Another was locked in a battle of claws against knives when suddenly both she and Boyd turned to stone in one instant and crumbled to dust in the next.
And so it went. Witches became trees, dirt, water; the pack around them affected by each explosion of magic directly and indirectly. Until it was only Stiles and Derek.
Stiles, because he had finally accepted that he could help the pack better by staying out of sight and pulling on his Spark to cast defensive magic, but even he was nothing against the Nemeton’s infinite stream of power, and the shields and wards on his friends ripped apart like paper.
Derek, because Stiles had not only actively defended him during battle, but had imbued magic in the clothes and amulet Derek wore. Stiles knew that if Derek fell, he would fall as well, unable to continue without his best friend and lover. His mate in all but bond.
Derek had been seconds away from digging his claws into her chest when the last witch screamed mid-chant and disappeared, a flower growing in her place. Ironically peaceful in face of everything else. The Nemeton’s released magic swirled in the air, killing and curing the forest around it in turn. Storm clouds circled above, lightning and thunder crashing violently.
Derek had fallen to his knees, howling mournfully as the pain of the broken pack bonds washed through him. Stiles scrambled to him from behind the grove of trees where he had been hiding and pulled him into his arms, tears flowing freely down his own face. He felt the shattered bonds as well, and the turmoil and pressure of the magic in the air, but he held himself together best he could for his alpha.
Draining the last of his Spark, he had transported them to the rebuilt Hale house, collapsing to the floor of the living room with Derek still in his arms.
Stiles pulled him in close, Derek’s face to his neck, hoping their combined scents could comfort the wolf however little it could in the last moments of Beacon Hills. Because Stiles could feel it. Feel the collapse of the Nemeton and the rush of the ley lines as they tried to contain the stray magic. Felt the lines turn from streams to raging rivers. Knew that his town had minutes, maybe an hour, before it all imploded.
His phone was in his bag back in the woods, so he couldn’t call his dad. Sent feelings of love and comfort towards him, hoping that he would understand why Stiles couldn’t be with him. Because Derek needed him more.
Stiles felt Derek shifting and turned his face to meet his lips. The kiss was soft but desperate, full of love and longing.
“Stiles, I couldn’t save them. I wasn’t enough,” The wolf sobbed out between breaths.
“Derek, babe, there isn’t anyone in the world who is strong enough or powerful enough to go head to head with a Nemeton. Because that’s what we were truly up against, not the coven. We never stood a chance.
Another kiss, a wet “I love you” shared between mates. Speaking of…
“Derek, I used the last of my spark to get us here. The house may survive a while longer, but it will fall too, and us with it. I want you to give me the mate bite,” Stiles rushed, not wanting to waste more time.
“But, Stiles…”
“Babe, there’s no time left. I want to go knowing you know exactly how much I love you. No reservations, no regrets. I need you to know.”
His honey brown eyes met blue-green-hazel. Love and strength met scared and mourning. Stiles didn’t want those to be the last emotions Derek felt. Not when he had already spent so much of his life drowning in those same feelings.
“Please, Der. I want you to.” Stiles kissed him again, slow and deep, and when he stopped Derek kissed down his jaw and neck, hesitating at the juncture of his shoulder. Stiles felt his fangs for only a second before Derek bit into him gently.
They both moaned as the mate bond snapped into place, feelings of love and home pouring through both of them. Derek’s eyes full of wonder, before lips crashed together, this time the kiss intense and passionate, as the house began shaking around them, signifying the end.
Warmth filled Stiles. At first he thought it was the bond, but he gasped as strength and power burst through him, his Spark burning brightly.
His Nemeton poured images into his mind. The world, the ley lines connecting all the Nemetons. Beacon Hill’s overwhelmed ley lines preventing assistance. Instead, Stiles would be the conduit, allowing the other magical beacons to heal their brethren and secure the magic ripping Beacon Hills apart.
And Stiles said yes.
“Derek, love, hold on tight and don’t let go,” he murmured, feeling his mate bury his head in his neck and his arms tighten around him.
And then Stiles was filled with magic and chaos and calm all at the same time. The Nemetons hummed to him as they pushed their magic through him. Stiles knew that only the strength of the mate bond, of Derek’s love, was keeping him grounded, protecting his humanity.
He breathed in the loose magic, breathing it out to his Nemeton. He pulled the ley lines to him, letting them flood his senses as they drained excess magic through him. He felt the happiness of the restored tree, and the gratefulness of the other Nemetons.
He gasped when he was released, exhausted as if he had run a marathon, but his Spark was full again. And… he felt complete. The pack bonds were no longer broken!
“Stiles? Are you ok?”
He hugged his mate, feeling awe and concern through the bond, and pushed back love and safety and contentment. “I’m good. We’re good. In fact, everyone’s good.” And then the pack burst through the doors.
Derek kissed him hard, ecstatic, and then pulled them up to welcome their family home.