Title: Their First Kiss Was Cold
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Sterek, some Scott and Stiles BROTP
Summary: Getting the Nogitsune out of Stiles has just quickly become the hardest thing they've ever had to do.

Setting: Written after I saw Riddled. Slight AU in the sense that Sterek isn't established yet but everyone knows they like each other, Derek's just in denial.

-x-

When the confrontation finally happens they're back in the hospital. The power's out (again) and the backup lights are flickering a sickly greenish glow. It's standing at the end of the hallway just outside the elevator and Derek holds his position on the other side of it.

"Are you threatening us?" It says in his voice.

Derek meets its gaze. There is no sign of Stiles in this thing that's in front of him now. The jittery fingers are motionless and hanging loosely by its sides. The hazel eyes are cold and it meets his gaze with a hard focus unlike the softer stare he was accustomed to. It holds his body wrong. The way it holds it so stationary and quiet rubs Derek's hackles all the wrong way.

"You're not Stiles," he says again. Keeps the tremble out of his words because, damn, rage does crazy things with your voice.

It flutters his long eyelashes with amusement as it flashes a small smile onto his face.

"Clever wolf," It drawls. Derek resists the urge to shudder. His voice is all wrong. Too deep, words too slow – not running all together, a mile a minute. No chatty with a touch of whine.

"Let him go." Derek demands, eyes never leaving his face.

"Or what? You'll kill me?" It says in a teasing, singsong voice.

He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest as he feels his wolf lash out and snarl to be let free. His fingers lengthen into claws and Derek cracks his neck as he feels his teeth try to grow into fangs.

"Temper, temper, Sourwolf."

Derek snarls at the way it says that stupid, stupid nickname. It saunters forward with a slow languid grace that is just wrong and strokes its fingers gently against the wall as it draws closer to Derek.

It catches his eyes one more time before it murmurs darkly, "He's still in here, you know."

Derek grits his teeth and tries not to bite his own tongue off with his lengthening fangs. It takes only a second for him to surge forward, grab it by the neck and slam it hard against the wall.

"I know." He snarls right into its face. With his other hand he quickly reaches behind him into the small satchel tied to his belt, grabs a fist full of Deaton's combination of Agrimony and Boneset dust and blows the mixture right into its face. The dust explodes between them. Derek keeps his grip steady on its throat as it squeezes its eyes shut and sucks in a stuttered breath before choking out several hacking coughs.

It sucks in another heaving breath and the next time it opens its eyes Derek isn't prepared because the gaze is wide and warm. Their eyes meet for a second and Stiles' face is covered in magic dust and his body slackens against Derek's grip on his throat, hand coming up to flutter at his wrist and he gasps out a desperate "Der—!".

Derek's eyes widen in shock because, Jesus Christ, it actually worked. And he's so stunned that he almost forgets the plan but gets right back on track when Scott and Isaac reach around him, grab Stiles by the shoulders and haul him to the ground.

The pre-drawn devil's trap lined with mountain ash and hyssop flares to life as Stiles' body slams into it. Scott and Isaac take their positions, each of them gripping one of Stiles' outstretched arms his forearms just outside the devil's trap's lines. Stiles' panicked breaths are loud to Derek's supernatural ears and he freezes for a second because he never in a million years thought he'd ever see Stiles bathed in so much pain and fear. He watches as Stiles turns a desperate look at Scott to his right and listens as the young Alpha starts murmuring to his best friend.

I'm here, I'm right here, buddy. Don't be scared we're getting it out, you're gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay!

"Derek!" He snaps out of his daze as Scott screams his name. Stiles' legs are flailing like he's trying to get away and his eyes are alternately flashing between black and hazel. Derek lunges forward and drops to his knees. Grabs Stiles' ankles at their next desperate kick and grips them hard.

Stiles' back bows against the floor and he/it lets out an enraged shriek that fades into Stiles' own voice.

"Stop, stop, it hurts!" It's his voice that says it. And when Derek looks up, it's Stiles' tortured face he sees.

He doesn't know how it knows what to say, but the next thing that comes out of its mouth in his voice makes Derek's blood run cold.

"D-Der," he whines painfully. "Der, please. It hurts. Please, let me go. Why are you hurting me? Please!"

His eyes are wide and fucking hazel, for fuck's sake. His voice isn't low and steady. His breaths are laboured and his heartbeat is racing and panicked. Derek's resolve almost snaps with the need to just pick Stiles up and hold him.

But then he grits his teeth hard and takes a deep steadying breath. He readjusts the grip he has on its legs and looks past Scott and Isaac to the end of the hallway.

"Lydia!"

The strawberry blonde races around the corner at the end of the hallway, ancient tome of a book gripped in both hands with Allison keeping pace beside her, crossbow secure in her grasp.

It sees them approach and lets out an enraged scream. Derek, Scott and Isaac grips its limbs tight.

Derek watches Lydia react as she approaches. Watches her eyes widen and her lips part on a silent gasp.

He doesn't give her any more time to be shocked. "Do it!" He barks, "Do it now!"

It lets out another blood curdling scream, makes Stiles' body arch in an unnatural way. Makes the most tortured and pained noises come out of his throat. Hurts Stiles' friends in every way it can by showing them all the pain their friend can't endure. Lydia shakes the tears out of her eyes and begins to read.

Exorcizamus te.

It screams in Stiles' voice. Starts crying out for Scott. Why are you doing this to me?! Please, it hurts! It struggles hard against their grasp. Flails against Derek's hold and kicks out at him, but he holds tight.

Omnis immundus spiritus.

It lets out a pained groan and Derek watches its chest heave violently.

Omnis satanica potestas.

It lets out another tortured groan, head shaking back and forth and body shivering. Derek has long since slipped his hands under Stiles' jeans to grip his ankles and he realises suddenly that the younger man's body has turned cold to the touch.

Omnis incursio.

Suddenly, the struggles fade and Stiles' body stills. Derek can hear him wheezing out shallow, reedy breaths; notices the blue hue tingeing his lips.

Infernalis adversarii.

Slowly, it raises its head up just high enough to meet Derek's hard gaze. Derek can feel fine tremors travelling through his body. Hears the first few warning bells sound off in the back of his mind as he watches cold eyes turn warm.

"D-Der…I h-have to t-tell you s-something – I h-have to—"


Omnis legio.

Derek catalogues everything in seconds. His eyes are hazel and warm. His fingers twitch weakly, but he doesn't fight Scott and Isaac's grasps. There's a stutter in his heartbeat that can't be faked even by the strongest trickster.

And his scent is all musk and cinnamon.

Omnis congregatio.

"Stiles?"

Derek can tell he's using almost all his strength just to keep their gazes locked. The colour has long since faded from his face and his lips have gone from blue to a bruised purple.

"I…" Stiles gasps, trembling. "I love you, okay?" There's a fear and an urgency in his tone that Derek doesn't want to hear.

"I-I do." Stiles gasps brokenly, "I r-really –I do."


Et secta diabolica.

The glow of the devil's trap disappears as quickly as it had appeared. The heaviness in the air fades so fast it's like someone took away all the walls surrounding them.

Derek watches all the light fade out of Stiles' eyes as they roll back into his head. His head hits the ground with a slight thud and his body goes limp in their grasp.

I love you, okay? I-I do. I r-really –I do.

He doesn't think. Can't process, can't even begin to—

Derek lunges forward; crouches directly over Stiles' prone form and grab at his shoulder. Later everyone will process what had just happened, but for now, his sudden movement urges everyone into action. Isaac fumbles at Stiles' wrist trying to feel for a pulse. Lydia has dropped to her knees and is gripping Stiles' head in her hands. He's cold. He's cold! He's not breathing. Derek, he's not—! Allison drops her crossbow and says something about running to find Melissa.

And before he can move to do it himself, Scott scrambles over to them and begins compressions. As he struggles to get his best friend's heart to beat, Scott looks up and meets Derek's gaze with tears filling his eyes but not yet overflowing.

"He's my best friend okay?" Scott gasps between compressions. Looks at Derek with imploring eyes. "Please. He's my brother."

Save him.

Derek sends him an almost imperceptible nod. They will sort everything else out when Stiles wakes up.

And then Derek leans over Stiles' prone form, angles his mouth over ice-cold lips and breathes.

-x-

Author's Note: I hope the way Derek switches between "it" and "he" when referring to Stiles wasn't too confusing? I'd love any feedback on this fic especially since I started writing it at 12:30AM and therefore didn't end up sleeping until past 3AM since it wouldn't get out of my head, lol.

Also, you guys might recognise some element from Supernatural (ie, Devil's Trap and the exorcism ritual) which I borrowed.

And lastly, I don't have any experience whatsoever with using herbs as magical purposes so how they are used here are completely fiction, but if anyone's interested, here's what they're meant for.
Agrimony – Protection, to banish negativity and evil spirits
Boneset – Wards off evil spirits
Hyssop – Purification. Sprinkled on persons to cleanse them.

Please let me know what you guys think and thank you for reading!

xx