[Stiles could feel the blood dripping from his hands, splattered across his front. The thing inside of him could have easily killed these people with a simple snap of it's fingers (and some, it had, setting them on fire) but instead -
What fun would that have been? A voice giggled inside of his head, lifting his bloody hand to his lips. He recognized the body beneath his feet whose blood was now on his tongue; Mrs. Glaser, the local librarian.
Stiles calmed himself with the knowledge that at the very, very least, his father wasn't here...but he would be soon, and then what?
I'll kill him, slowly, for you. I'll let you taste his blood. The demon simpered inside of his head, carefully licking the blood from his hand and humming at the taste.]
But I think I'll start with him. [The demon's eyes locked onto Derek, bloody smile stretching across the teenager's face.] What do you think, Stiles?
[Stiles was terrified, wishing Derek would stop and run, because this thing was totally going to kill him and make Stiles drink his blood; when suddenly his body was his again and Stiles was terrified for a completely different reason.]
Derek! [Stiles yelled, dropping to his knees and scrambling backwards, wondering if the wolf had taken over so completely that Derek was still going to kill him when he was miraculously, inconcievably himself again.
For the moment, at least. This was just his luck, really.]
I - I - where is it? Where'd it go? [Stiles looked around frantically, landing in a pool of blood and cringing as it soaked into his jeans.] Oh my God I...I did this...
Kill me. [Stiles was shaking, looking up at Derek with the most serious look the teen had ever had grace his face.] Kill me, Derek. Before it comes back. I don't want to hurt anybody else.
[Derek was entirely right on that account - the demon had simply sucked itself into a dark corner of Stiles mind, shrouding himself from Stiles' mind's eye. Torturing the werewolf the way he had the townsfolk - through physical pain - wasn't going to be very fun if he could heal.]
Derek, oh my God please... [Stiles was half-babbling, hands fisting in Derek's jacket as the werewolf tilted his head, bracing himself for the snap of bones that...wasn't coming.]
There isn't. I don't - I don't know if it's gone. [Stiles slumped down onto his knees as Derek released him, hands shaking as he examined the blood on them with a dreading, nauseous feeling.] We can't take that risk. And I...
[Stiles looked up at Derek with grave eyes, lowering his hands and taking in a shuddering breath.] ....I can't do it on my own.
[It was as close to admitting he wasn't strong enough for this - any of this - as Stiles was ever going to get to, simply because A.) this was probably going to end in his death, and B.) he didn't admit deep thoughts and emotions like that to anyone, least of all Derek Alpha Hale.]
I'm not seeing any other option here! Look at this! Look at what it made me do! [Stiles gestured frantically at the surrounding slaughter, demon still hidden from him in the back of his mind.] It's going to make me kill you, my dad, the entire town.
We have to try. [Stiles pleaded, practically willing Derek to look back at him and wondering if he was going to be forced to attempt suicide.]
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What fun would that have been? A voice giggled inside of his head, lifting his bloody hand to his lips. He recognized the body beneath his feet whose blood was now on his tongue; Mrs. Glaser, the local librarian.
Stiles calmed himself with the knowledge that at the very, very least, his father wasn't here...but he would be soon, and then what?
I'll kill him, slowly, for you. I'll let you taste his blood. The demon simpered inside of his head, carefully licking the blood from his hand and humming at the taste.]
But I think I'll start with him. [The demon's eyes locked onto Derek, bloody smile stretching across the teenager's face.] What do you think, Stiles?
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Derek! [Stiles yelled, dropping to his knees and scrambling backwards, wondering if the wolf had taken over so completely that Derek was still going to kill him when he was miraculously, inconcievably himself again.
For the moment, at least. This was just his luck, really.]
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Kill me. [Stiles was shaking, looking up at Derek with the most serious look the teen had ever had grace his face.] Kill me, Derek. Before it comes back. I don't want to hurt anybody else.
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Derek, oh my God please... [Stiles was half-babbling, hands fisting in Derek's jacket as the werewolf tilted his head, bracing himself for the snap of bones that...wasn't coming.]
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[Stiles looked up at Derek with grave eyes, lowering his hands and taking in a shuddering breath.] ....I can't do it on my own.
[It was as close to admitting he wasn't strong enough for this - any of this - as Stiles was ever going to get to, simply because A.) this was probably going to end in his death, and B.) he didn't admit deep thoughts and emotions like that to anyone, least of all Derek Alpha Hale.]
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We have to try. [Stiles pleaded, practically willing Derek to look back at him and wondering if he was going to be forced to attempt suicide.]
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