Hi... [Stiles blinks up at Sam, overwhelming crush of feelings hitting him. He remembers. They wasted so much time, and he knew, with this injury...they weren't going to get the chance to make it up.] I missed you...
I 'member... [Stiles inhales sharply, pain lancing through his chest.] L-love you...
Sam.. wtf are you thinking?wolfy_samOctober 4 2012, 12:13:04 UTC
[The sound Sam makes is utterly broken as he leans in to kiss him. He strokes his face, unable to bring himself to break the kiss for a long moment. He’d long since resigned himself to the idea that Stiles would never remember that they’d been in love, that Sam loved him more than anything in the world. Tears mingle with blood on their faces and he gingerly gathers the teen’s broken body in his arms.] I love you too.
[He tries to speak again, but it’s nearly impossible around the lump in his throat. A low, desperate sob breaks free and he kisses his forehead. He’s never felt so helpless or alone in his life.] Your timing really stinks, you know that?
[Crossroads. There’s a crossroads just outside of Beacon Hills.]
I know... [Stiles lets out a shaky laugh, which keens off into a sound of pain, ragged cough dragging through his chest. He can taste blood, which never bodes well.] M'sorry... [Sam kisses him, and Stiles' hand tightens weakly. Finally. Finally.]
Sam...hurts... [Stiles mumbles, pain wracking through his body as Sam draws him into even the lightest embrace. He doesn't shrink away, though - if he's going to be in pain, he might as well be wrapped up in the man he loves instead of cold and alone.] Everything...hurts...
[Stiles has read about demons. He can't let Sam do that for him; he'd never forgive himself. Sam won't be able to make a deal anyway - he's a werewolf. Demons tended to stick to humans since most supernatural creatures souls were damned.]
Shh...don't cry...it's okay... [Stiles' thumb twitches against Sam's hand, trying to comfort him.] ...'tis only a flesh wound...
[He hisses an apology at his sounds of pain. But he has to hold him, has to gather him close, surround himself in his scent. Stiles remembers and he’s going to lose him.] I know. I’m sorry I’m sorry. [He has to hold him. He’s missed having him in his arms. Sam can’t stop crying as he gingerly wraps him close.] Oh god I’ve missed you. Please.. please hang on. Don’t go. Don’t leave me.
[He’ll make a deal. He’ll find some way. Demons might not want a monster, but they might want to get their hands on a Winchester. Whatever it takes to get Stiles back. He’s so tired of losing people he loves. Family, loved ones, they’re all dead and he’s so sick of being left behind.
[Another broken sob.] I don’t want to be alone again. Please Stiles. I need you. [Tears falling on his face and neck. Agonized sounds tearing from his chest.] I love you. I love you.
[Sam's tears are hot and wet on his cheeks, mingling with the blood. Stiles is cold, so very cold, as the warmth of his blood slowly seeps out of his body, taking his life with it as well.] Shh, shh...m'not leaving...
[Except that he is and they both know it. Stiles' eyes slip closed, even though he knows they shouldn't - they might not open again.]
You're not alone, Sam...m'always...here... [Stiles slowly lifts his quivering hand to Sam's chest, above his heart. It may have seemed a little cheesy, but it was what Stiles' mother had said to him, on her deathbed.] Don't...forget me...I love you...
[Sam is sobbing now, great heaving sobs that shake his entire frame as he cups Stiles’ hand, cradling it over his heart. But he is going to be alone. Again. Stiles remembers him only long enough to die in his harms.] I won’t. Never forget. [He can barely speak through his tears, brushing his cheek against Stiles’s as he cradles his broken body near.]
I love you. I love you. [He bites back his pleas, his instinct to beg Stiles to stay with him, to not go away. No. He wants the last thing he hears to be how much Sam loves him. Not that the loss is going to destroy him. Not that he’ll keen and howl and sob over his body until someone hauls him away.]
INCOHERENT NOISESalotofadderallOctober 4 2012, 22:09:32 UTC
Sam... [Stiles can feel it slowly sinking into his bones, the feeling that can only be described as Death. Sam's cheek is rubbing against his, and Stiles wants to protest, tell him he's getting blood everywhere - but then he doesn't wanting to feel Sam close to him, like they haven't been for a long time, and now, never again.] ...I'm scared...
Do you - ah - [His breath hitches, a wheeze of pain, and he coughs violently, spluttering blood. His lips are dark red now, chest heaving as it struggled to keep moving.] Do you think I'll...see my mom...
[Sam makes a choked sound that is very nearly a cry of agony. Heaven. Stiles is going to Heaven to his mother. He's a werewolf and bound for Purgatory. His eyes close and he kisses his forehead as he cries out and coughs.]
Don't be afraid. I've been there. It's nice, you'll see her there.
[Oh god. He can't do this. He's never going to see him again. He's going to lose Stiles ask over again. Sam buries his face in his neck, sobbing. He's going to be alone again. Lost.] I love you. I love you.
..ohgod please don't leave me.[It's a ragged, tearful plea.]
Shh... [Stiles chokes on his own blood, briefly, gasping for air. His hand twitches in Sam's, trying to lift and comfort him, but he's too weak to manage even that.]
I-I...m'sorry... [Stiles breathes, wheezing slightly. The branch is pulling painfully with each breath, feeling like it was ripping him a little wider every passing second...which it was, not that Stiles could see the wound from his position.] I love you...
[Stiles really can't hold on much longer. His vision is starting to go dark, no matter how much he tries to fight it, and he's starting to not want to fight it - black, cool nothingness or red, agonizing reality. But Sam was what made him hold on, clinging to the pain.] S-Sa-Sam...
.. we're so mean. Horrible. Terrible. Mean.wolfy_samOctober 5 2012, 02:08:58 UTC
[Sam strokes his hair, knowing full well that losing Stiles is going to be the final thing that breaks him. Not Hell, not Lucifer, but this loss. It's going to destroy him if it doesn't wind up claiming his life. He kisses his lips, heedless of the blood there, or that his skin is getting cool to the touch.] Shh. It's okay. You.. [his voice hitches in a pained sob.]
You just rest, okay? [He buries his face in his hair and just cries.] You just rest.
I'm crying again jfc <3 I believe sadistic and evil should be added to that list xDalotofadderallOctober 5 2012, 02:16:02 UTC
No...I-I don't w-want to...go... [Stiles protests, grip slackening. He can't stop it as his eyes slip closed again, breathing slowing, turning shallow.]
I love y-you... [And those are the last words Stiles gets to say, two more breaths before his lungs finally give with a slight gurgle, blood filling them. He's got two final, precious seconds, and then he's gone. Lifeless and cold, blood already beginning to congeal.
Distantly, a wolf howls. The pack is looking for them.]
<3 We're just so good at being evil and horriblewolfy_samOctober 5 2012, 02:42:01 UTC
I love you. I love you. [He can hear his pulse fluttering, growing shallow and faint and panic spikes through him as he gathers Stiles close in protest. Brokenly Sam sobs into his hair as he cradles him in his arms. He was gone. Stiles was gone and he was alone.
[Sam throws his head back, howling out his grief and rage into the night sky. He was alone. Lost and broken.
[That howl gives Derek all the indication he needs to where Stiles and Sam are. The alpha shifts directions and charges in their direction. If they bring Stiles to the pack, they can call his soul back, anchor it into his body long enough to find medical attention.
[It takes a few moments for Derek's words to penetrate his grief-fogged brain. Sam doesn't even spring into action until Derek moves to pick up Stiles and he very nearly strikes out at his alpha. No one touches Stiles. No one.
[And he's just desperate enough to cling to some faint hope that his boyfriend really isn't gone.]
[Sam, Derek's growling at the wolf dangerously, eyes flashing red. Scott and the rest of the pack are standing at the top of the ravine, looking absolutely horrified. Erica has to turn away into Boyd's chest, and Isaac rests a hand on Scott's shoulder. Let me save him. Now.]
I'll carry him. [Because he can't let go. Can't let go of the limp weight in his arms, the blood soaking their clothes, already drying tacky and thick on his skin.
[Sam follows Derek and the rest of the pack. He sees the heartbreak mirrored on the pack's faces, in their eyes and their stances and he knows he's not alone, a low, grieving howl slipping from his throat as he nimbly climbs up the ravine again.
[Derek moves the pack where they need to be, giving the orders. I can draw on the power of the pack, the voice of the pack as a whole and call our member home. Erica, Boyd, we'll need to get him to a hospital. Fast.]
Tell me what to do. Please. Anything. [He'd do anything to bring Stiles back. Surrender anything if he could just have him back.]
[Start administering CPR. Make sure he can breathe and beat his heart for him. He'd only die again, if they could get him back in the first place. It was a tricky business, pulling a pack member back. You weren't normally supposed to use it on humans - werewolves bodies would knit themselves back together, but Stiles wouldn't be able to.
Won't he be in a lot of pain? Scott asks quietly. Derek doesn't answer him, gesturing for Sam to lay Stiles down and start. He kneels, inhaling deeply as he tries to gather the power necessary. Get over here, all of you. And then he's giving the other betas instructions, knowing that there was a time limit on this type of thing.]
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I 'member... [Stiles inhales sharply, pain lancing through his chest.] L-love you...
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[He tries to speak again, but it’s nearly impossible around the lump in his throat. A low, desperate sob breaks free and he kisses his forehead. He’s never felt so helpless or alone in his life.] Your timing really stinks, you know that?
[Crossroads. There’s a crossroads just outside of Beacon Hills.]
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Sam...hurts... [Stiles mumbles, pain wracking through his body as Sam draws him into even the lightest embrace. He doesn't shrink away, though - if he's going to be in pain, he might as well be wrapped up in the man he loves instead of cold and alone.] Everything...hurts...
[Stiles has read about demons. He can't let Sam do that for him; he'd never forgive himself. Sam won't be able to make a deal anyway - he's a werewolf. Demons tended to stick to humans since most supernatural creatures souls were damned.]
Shh...don't cry...it's okay... [Stiles' thumb twitches against Sam's hand, trying to comfort him.] ...'tis only a flesh wound...
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[He’ll make a deal. He’ll find some way. Demons might not want a monster, but they might want to get their hands on a Winchester. Whatever it takes to get Stiles back. He’s so tired of losing people he loves. Family, loved ones, they’re all dead and he’s so sick of being left behind.
[Another broken sob.] I don’t want to be alone again. Please Stiles. I need you. [Tears falling on his face and neck. Agonized sounds tearing from his chest.] I love you. I love you.
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[Except that he is and they both know it. Stiles' eyes slip closed, even though he knows they shouldn't - they might not open again.]
You're not alone, Sam...m'always...here... [Stiles slowly lifts his quivering hand to Sam's chest, above his heart. It may have seemed a little cheesy, but it was what Stiles' mother had said to him, on her deathbed.] Don't...forget me...I love you...
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I love you. I love you. [He bites back his pleas, his instinct to beg Stiles to stay with him, to not go away. No. He wants the last thing he hears to be how much Sam loves him. Not that the loss is going to destroy him. Not that he’ll keen and howl and sob over his body until someone hauls him away.]
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Do you - ah - [His breath hitches, a wheeze of pain, and he coughs violently, spluttering blood. His lips are dark red now, chest heaving as it struggled to keep moving.] Do you think I'll...see my mom...
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Don't be afraid. I've been there. It's nice, you'll see her there.
[Oh god. He can't do this. He's never going to see him again. He's going to lose Stiles ask over again. Sam buries his face in his neck, sobbing. He's going to be alone again. Lost.] I love you. I love you.
..ohgod please don't leave me.[It's a ragged, tearful plea.]
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I-I...m'sorry... [Stiles breathes, wheezing slightly. The branch is pulling painfully with each breath, feeling like it was ripping him a little wider every passing second...which it was, not that Stiles could see the wound from his position.] I love you...
[Stiles really can't hold on much longer. His vision is starting to go dark, no matter how much he tries to fight it, and he's starting to not want to fight it - black, cool nothingness or red, agonizing reality. But Sam was what made him hold on, clinging to the pain.] S-Sa-Sam...
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You just rest, okay? [He buries his face in his hair and just cries.] You just rest.
I love you. I love you so much.
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I love y-you... [And those are the last words Stiles gets to say, two more breaths before his lungs finally give with a slight gurgle, blood filling them. He's got two final, precious seconds, and then he's gone. Lifeless and cold, blood already beginning to congeal.
Distantly, a wolf howls. The pack is looking for them.]
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[Sam throws his head back, howling out his grief and rage into the night sky. He was alone. Lost and broken.
[That howl gives Derek all the indication he needs to where Stiles and Sam are. The alpha shifts directions and charges in their direction. If they bring Stiles to the pack, they can call his soul back, anchor it into his body long enough to find medical attention.
[It takes a few moments for Derek's words to penetrate his grief-fogged brain. Sam doesn't even spring into action until Derek moves to pick up Stiles and he very nearly strikes out at his alpha. No one touches Stiles. No one.
[And he's just desperate enough to cling to some faint hope that his boyfriend really isn't gone.]
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[Sam follows Derek and the rest of the pack. He sees the heartbreak mirrored on the pack's faces, in their eyes and their stances and he knows he's not alone, a low, grieving howl slipping from his throat as he nimbly climbs up the ravine again.
[Derek moves the pack where they need to be, giving the orders. I can draw on the power of the pack, the voice of the pack as a whole and call our member home. Erica, Boyd, we'll need to get him to a hospital. Fast.]
Tell me what to do. Please. Anything. [He'd do anything to bring Stiles back. Surrender anything if he could just have him back.]
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Won't he be in a lot of pain? Scott asks quietly. Derek doesn't answer him, gesturing for Sam to lay Stiles down and start. He kneels, inhaling deeply as he tries to gather the power necessary. Get over here, all of you. And then he's giving the other betas instructions, knowing that there was a time limit on this type of thing.]
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