Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1440574.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Stiles_Stilinski/Original_Male_Character(s),
      Pre_Derek/Stiles_-_Relationship
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall_(Teen_Wolf), Derek_Hale, Aiden_(Teen
      Wolf), Ethan_(Teen_Wolf), Lydia_Martin, Allison_Argent, Sheriff
      Stilinski, Rafael_McCall, Melissa_McCall, Isaac_Lahey, Peter_Hale,
      Deucalion_(Teen_Wolf), Chris_Argent
  Additional Tags:
      Mpreg, Body_Horror, Supernatural_Elements, Horror, Angst, Violence,
      Drama, Dubious_Consent, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Squick, Faeries_-
      Freeform, Elves, Supernatural_Creatures
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-04-09 Updated: 2014-08-18 Chapters: 2/? Words: 7262
****** Found You in the Darkness ******
by aspacepickle
Summary
     When Stiles awakens the darkness in his heart, it wakes up something
     from the very darkness itself. (No season threeB)
Notes
     Why hello! First time author, long time reader. I hope you enjoy the
     intro to my story and if you do let me know. :) A few things first.
     This is NOT beta read so please excuse my errors. If you would like
     to be my beta reader please let me know.
     Secondly, if you enjoy the OCs or the plot or anything about the
     story feel free to use them in your own stories. All I ask is that
     you do not copy and paste because that's just lazy, and you let me
     know about it so I can read it to.
     Thirdly, READ THE WARNINGS!!! This is not a fluffy story! In fact,
     it's pretty dark and explicit if I do say so myself. So if you're
     reading the story and go OMG and decide to write a comment about how
     disturbing/gross/terrible this is that would be silly of you
     considering you clicked on the story in the first place. :/
     Enjoy!
***** Intro *****
***~`~`***
Summer had come and gone. The once vibrant chemical-green grass of the
neighbor’s lawn had withered; brown and crisp. It had cooled considerably, and
the ocean had brought a salty tang with the wind as it soared its way into the
small Californian town. Beacon Hills had always been of moderate climate,
rarely reaching over eighty and very often it rained. Stiles liked the rain. It
was clean, fresh and undoubtedly the opposite of what one would think about the
young man, who had normally such a sunny, if not excited disposition. Stiles
loved the sun, but the rain-the rain, was so much more…inviting. It beckoned
him to feel it on his face, to watch it through the panes of his bedroom
window, and on occasion traipse through the puddles like he was five again.
Now, it was even more welcoming.
It was now senior year and it had left the ragtag group of friends and enemies
in a strange place. They were a pack and they were not a pack. Ethan and Aiden
would never let themselves be led by Scott, but they held enough respect for
him to not cause any more trouble. Well, werewolf trouble. The theory that
Lydia and Danny had ‘kept the brothers in line’ was the unspoken agreement
between the other members of the pack.
Lydia and Stiles relationship remained perfectly friendly, and Stiles was okay
with that. The truth was, after the whole ice bath of death episode, Stiles
hadn’t been feeling quite the same. His once romantic attraction to Lydia had
turned into friendship. He loved her, but wasn't in love with her. She had
notice the change in him and seemed far more comfortable with him than she’d
even been, and she didn't have to keep scolding Aiden for his possessive wolf
behavior. The werewolf, begrudgingly, was good for her, or at least until she
changed her mind.
It was the whole Scott, Allison, and Isaac thing that threw him for a loop.
Scott was still in love with Allison, and Allison was still very much in love
with Scott. And Isaac…was in love with them both. The serious sexual tension
rolled off the three in waves and made Stiles’ nose twitch unconsciously.
Lunchtime had become fourth wheel time for Stiles. Actually, any Scott and
Stiles bro time had become fourth wheel time. So Stiles spent most of his own
time at home with his father who purposed a ridiculous nine-o-clock curfew for
weekends, and a six-o-clock curfew for weekdays. The Sheriff’s schedule,
luckily, included many late night shifts so sneaking out wasn't hard but if
Stiles didn't text back or pick up the phone within ten minutes, there would be
a local cop knocking on his door. Stiles thought it was extreme, his father
told him to put up with it. And with the added dark circles that had taken up
residence under his dad’s eyes, Stiles had a hard time arguing with him. Stiles
also thought it had something to do with Scott’s dad being back in town.
To say Sheriff Stillinski and Agent McCall didn't get along was an
understatement. Agent McCall was trying though, and Scott decided to make and
honest effort to get along with his father after Scott told him he’d break his
legs if he hurt his mother. Agent McCall brightened at his sons words,
accepting and proud that Scott had found some serious self confidence since
he’d left. Stile and Scott still thought he was a jackass.
Stiles took up wandering the Hale estate and the surrounding forest after
class, and on weekends with his cell phone in case his father called, and two
sandwich bags of wolfs bane and mountain ash in his hoodie pocket. His dad
always assumed he was with Scott, so what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, and
as long as he was home by curfew no one would be the wiser.
It was Saturday afternoon and it had been raining lightly for the last couple
of hours. The sky clouded, but light enough to see even in the most wooded
parts of the Hale land. Stiles had left his jeep parked in the back of the old
burnt down Hale house. There was a slim chance anyone would ever come there,
but you could never be too sure. He had also checked out the Hale house in
depth, and apparently either Derek or someone else had taken anything of
importance, because all that was left was the charred skeleton of the house and
Derek’s old ratty mattress on the floor. Stiles was almost grateful there was
nothing of interest in that house, it gave him goose bumps to stand on the
front porch.
So, he stuck to wandering almost aimlessly around the property. The woods were
full of life and it seemed that the animals had finally gotten over committing
suicide, which Stiles was rather grateful for. He didn't want a buck running
him through with his antlers, it was a little too Hannibal Lecter for his
tastes. Instead, he found the animals to be quite…comforting. He would sit
under the ancient oak trees and close his eyes and nap to the songs of the
birds or listen as the many forest critters would move through the underbrush.
It was the most relaxed he’d ever been since his best friend had gotten bitten
by a werewolf.
The rain lightly pattered down from the sky, wetting his red hoodie and
bringing forth a bit of chill, which was ignored in favor of his continued
journey through the estate. Stiles checked his phone; 7:05pm. It was late, but
he still had a solid half an hour before it got too dark to explore and he
would have to go back. He also hadn’t explored this part of the forest yet and
Stiles couldn't force himself to turn back.
The shrubbery had become dense and hard to manage. He pulled and pushed his way
through, pants getting caught on twisted and sharp branches. It hadn’t been the
first time he’d broken through this kind of obstacle only to find himself in a
clearing or even at the main road, but this stuff was relentless. Stiles could
see the silhouettes of the high-as-sky pines through the twisted mess of forest
so he trudged onwards only to have the bottom of his pants catch on dead root.
It forced him to sprawl awkwardly on his hands and knees, the palms of his
hands scrapped and splintered.
“Damn it!” Stiles cursed and rolled to a sitting position, brushed his hands
free of twigs and picked a rather large splinter from the soft flesh of his
right thumb. There wasn't much blood from the scraps so he wiped both hands
against the sides of his jeans to clean them. He scooted forward to see where
his pant leg was caught on the old root. From what he could see it was dead,
the root dry and splintered. The bottom of his jeans twisted from when he had
turned around and a large piece of the root had lodged itself through his the
bottom pant near the hem, missing his ankle by very little. Stiles sighed and
wiped rainwater and sweat from his face, thanking whatever gods might’ve been
looking after him in that split second. He took a few moments to breathe before
he set to untangle his jeans from the root. A moment later he stood up, brushed
off his rump and took a look around. The foliage was still too thick to see
very far and the creeping darkness was beginning to box him in. Stiles was
starting to think he should’ve turned back a half an hour ago. For the first
time since he had started exploring these woods, he was uncomfortable, and for
the first time, it was silent. The rain must have let up for the time being so
the soft pitter-patter against the leaves was gone. He held his breathe and
listened for the birds, or the crunching of paws or hooves on the leaves. Or
the wind… In its stead there was only eerie silence, all encompassing.
Something was wrong. His gut told him to get the hell out of there, to run as
far away as possible. Fear gripped him tightly, his heart pounding in his ears
and his body ramrod straight. He needed to go back, and he needed to go back
now! Stiles prepared to run back the way he came, to push through the dense
shrubbery of the forest but as he lifted his foot to make his way over the dead
root he stopped. A thunder loud snap broke out and forced Stiles to look up in
the direction it came from. Straight ahead! The teen wasted no time after the
second snap was heard, turning around swiftly and pushing through the branches
and vines with a fearful fluidity. Thin branches snapped back at him, ripping
across his face and body. His pursuer was relentless, and the loud snaps turned
into thundering crashes. Stiles pushed his way deeper into the undergrowth,
body screaming and mind numb from fear. Darkness was all around him, but he
pushed forward, hands outstretched and reaching blindly for something to pull
him out.
All too rapidly his hand caught only air and he fell forward and then down. His
hands landed first with a sickening crunch. Then, in attempt to save his neck
from breaking, Stiles rolled hard and sharp onto his back. It felt like and
eternity before he stopped none too softly on his stomach, gasping in pain and
groaning when he attempted to roll over.
Large burnt sienna eyes opened wide into near darkness. Stiles stilled and
listened for his inevitable doom to come, but was met once again with only
silence. A haunting silence that shook him from the deepest parts of his body.
In that instant he remembered his phone and reached painfully into his hoodie
pocket only to find nothing. It must have fallen out when he rolled down the
hill! Cursing, the teen took a shaky deep breath and thought about what to do.
He couldn't move his left hand and the sharp unrelenting pain he got when he
tried made him believe that it was definitely broken. The rest of him was sore
and bruised but he managed to stand on shaky legs.
Instinctively, he knew he was still in danger. The thing that had pursued him
was still out there, but why it hadn’t come barreling down the hill after him
was confusing. From what Stiles could tell he was in a mass of great pines. The
tall columns of their trunks loomed around him, as if watching his every move.
Past the furry tops of the pines were clouds, dark and grey, moonlight
highlighting the once silver lining into a dark stone grey. His eyes widened at
the moonlight. Of course! He dug quickly into his jean pocket, and gave a small
hurrah when he found the bag of mountain ash he kept on him.
Stiles might not have been an extraordinary spark but he was a spark, dammit!
So with his good hand and a lot to believe in he formed the mountain ash into a
circle around him. Stiles might not have known what was in pursuit of him, but
whatever it was had to be supernatural in nature, and mountain ash worked on
more than just werewolves. Or, at least, he hoped.
Seconds, turned into minutes, turned into what seemed like hours with silence
and trepidation his only company. Maybe if I can make it until morning. Or
maybe my dads already looking for me…
The prospect of his dad searching for him sent a sharp pain through him.
Whatever was out here whether it was wolf or not, was dangerous. He wished he
could somehow contact Scott but howling would do no good as he wasn't a
werewolf, and Stiles wished more then anything he allowed Peter to bite him
that one time.
When the pain became too great, Stiles forced himself to the ground, his good
arm thrown around his knees and his broken wrist cradled to his chest. He was
exhausted, hurt, and the night air chilled him to the bone. His jeans and
hoodie were wet from the rain and the tumble down the hill. There was fresh
blood on his face from where the branches broke his skin trying to make his way
out of the undergrowth; he wiped what he could off his face and onto his muddy
red hoodie.
Gently, he placed his bad arm in his front pocket and wrapped his good arm
tighter around his body. Waiting was agonizing, and the silence drove his
paranoia to the brink. Why wouldn't the thing attack him? Why wouldn't it show
itself? What was it waiting for? Stiles racked his brain for answers, but
nothing made sense.
'Unless, it’s playing with me.'
Predators had a knack for playing with their food before consuming them, but
whatever it was didn't make its self know until Stiles had tried to go back…
'Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!'
It wanted him here! It was herding him! Whatever it was, it was just nipping at
his heels, forcing him to run this way. It could have caught him at anytime,
running through that dense of forest was like swimming in molasses. There was
no way a predator couldn't have caught him. Werewolf or not.
Suddenly, the prospect of being eaten didn't sound so bad. Now he had no idea
what it wanted…and all he could do was wait.
Huddled in a ball in the middle of a circle of mountain ash, was Stiles
Stilinski. As far as he knew no one knew where he was, and as far as he knew,
he was going to die out here. Horribly.
***** Lost and Found *****
Chapter Notes
     Don't forget to read the tags in the event that you read something
     you do not like.
Stiles had no idea when he had passed out, but it couldn't have been long as it
was still dark and his body wanted to deny any kind of consciousness. He was
bone deep cold, and as the chill started to set in, so did the shivering.
Pulling himself into a tighter ball, Stiles peered upwards toward the night sky
and noticed that the clouds had disappeared, leaving only pale moonlight. The
surrounding forest of pines felt like a cage, their tall stature looming
constantly over him.
The silence lingered. It stretched over his shivering form and gripped him
tightly, what he wouldn't give to hear Scott talk on and on about Allison now.
Even Dereks’ noisy silence would have been better than this. On a barely
comforting note, the mountain ash seemed to be working. Nothing had come to
steal him away in his sleep, so maybe if he could make it until morning he
could find a way out of here.
Sitting up hurt something fierce but Stiles managed, still cradling his broken
wrist close to himself and pulling his knees up and almost too snug against his
chest. Tired eyes took in the scene around him; nothing but darkness past the
caging pines. He took a deep sigh and laid his head on his knees and stared
blankly into the darkness. Stiles was reminded of Nietzsche, ‘when you stare
into the abyss, the abyss stares back into you.’
Stiles wasn't stupid, he knew there was something watching him. Knew deep
within himself that he should be very afraid of what lay in that abyss. He only
wished it would show itself only to save him the anticipation of what would
inevitably happen…and that wolfs bane hopefully had a deadly effect on it.
The teen noticed something odd coming from the darkness of the pines and braced
himself, sitting upright and alert. It was moving, twisting and inching slowly
like a pit of snakes; sluggishly writhing and rolling towards him. Black turned
into dark grey that turned into a translucent white. Fog. Stiles let out a
breath he didn't know he’d been holding and willed his heart to steady. The
twisting white mass of fog crept towards him, breaking off unnaturally at the
line of mountain ash and slithering its way around the rest of the circle. The
teen turned a shade paler. Something was out there and it was coming soon, if
the obviously unnatural fog had anything to say about it.
Stiles looked all around him and then upwards, noticing that the fog seemed to
be climbing the area outside of his circle, desperately searching for a way in.
Shaking legs moved as far to the middle of the circle as they could, to try in
vain to keep away from the sides and mentally willed the supernatural fog away.
It only got thicker and thicker, and eventually Stiles could only make out the
tops of the pines and small glimpses into the darkness beyond them. The silence
continued as the fog made its unrelenting assault on him for what seemed like
hours. With luck, the circle held and Stiles was forced to return to sitting
due to pain and exhaustion. He huddled back into himself in the middle of the
circle and closed his eyes. Stray tears leaked softly down his cheeks, landing
and forming a wet patch on his hoodie sleeve. He wasn't going to give up, he
couldn't give up! But he was so tired…and it was so cold. The urge to vomit
settled itself into his gut, and Stiles had to fight back the nausea. Sitting
in a small area with his puke sounded unappealing, so he forced the feeling
down and opened his eyes to concentrate on the texture of his red hoodie. When
the feeling finally faded, Stiles laid gently down onto his side, careful not
to jar his broken wrist and bruises.
‘I just need to close my eyes for a moment. So tired…’
In the end, weariness won out and the little spark succumbed to darkness.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Stiles knew he was dreaming, for there was no pain. He was warm and enveloped
in a soft blanket. Or, what he thought was a blanket. When he opened his eyes
to the dream world he could see only darkness, and when he reached out to touch
something he touched the dark. It was soft, and warm. It enveloped him in an
embrace like his mother used to when he was young. He was also naked. Pale
skinned and supporting a healthy belly. Long fingers traced over his stomach
carefully. This was important, this was precious, this was life. Instinctively,
he knew, and it neither concerned nor scared him.
But something was coming for them. Stiles felt the danger and lifted his body
up and further into the darkness. He pushed and pulled his way through and away
from the danger. Whatever was behind him made a terrible racket, screaming and
tearing its way towards him. There was no escape! Darkness was unending and
soon he wouldn't be able to carry on further, he would fall prey to whatever
monstrous thing was hot on his trail.
The life inside him cried out, and Stiles wrapped his arms around his body to
try and comfort his precious bundle. A fierce pain shot through him as he was
swept off his feet and bodily dragged backwards into a firm embrace. Stiles
kicked and screamed, trying to dislodge his attacker, but to no avail. Whatever
had him held him tightly and wouldn't budge. A rumbling laugher filled his
ears, dark and grotesque.
You can fight it.
I enjoy the chase.
Fight me for eternity.
I will always catch you…
Stiles awoke gasping for breath and staring up into a bright moon, he was back
in his circle of mountain ash. It was only a nightmare, but he couldn't
remember falling asleep. A low groan made its way out of his mouth once the
pain set in. His broken wrist was still cradled inside his hoodie pocket and
thankfully didn't seem any worse for wear. Painstakingly, he rolled up onto his
feet. Unsteady but sure as he surveyed his surroundings, the fog had mostly
disappeared, now it only lingered in wisps. It was still dark and Stiles
noticed the moon hadn’t moved from the position it was in before he’d fallen
asleep. Stiles was beginning to think that the morning would never come, and
maybe he needed to rethink his strategy.
It was the wailing that broke him from his thoughts. A high painful screech
echoed in his ears. It surprised him so much so that he almost walked backwards
out of his circle. Unexpectedly, there was a strange cackling behind him and
Stiles turned as if shocked. It was close! Cackling soon turned into a sick
high-pitched laughter that bounced all around him, but he could see nothing.
There was a rustling in the trees as if things were jumping to and from the
pines, laughing and pointing down at the human behind the mountain ash.
Abruptly, the cackles stopped. Silence consumed the area once again, and Stiles
stood staring in terror at the darkness.
‘Its here! Oh god its here! What do I do? Whatdoidowhatdoidowhatdoido!’
Then, as if willed by some force, Stiles fell to his knees, good hand catching
him from more pain. The silence continued on and all around him he could only
see darkness beyond the pines and the moon high in the sky. Before he passed
out again, he could only think, ‘huh, waxing crescent…’
***
Stiles awoke once more to silence. He was getting tired of falling asleep and
waking back up to the same thing. He could still see the moon from his
uncomfortable position on his back, only this time it seemed…closer. The light
it gave off was the same, but it looked bigger than it had before. He huffed
out in frustration. Stiles knew now that he wasn’t in Kansas anymore. There was
something seriously wrong with this place and he was certain it was only going
to get worse. He had fallen asleep twice and the moon hadn’t moved, nor had the
animals that would normally stalked the forest at night make any sound. If he
were stuck in some strange alternate dimension, no one was going to find him.
Stiles ached all over. He was cold and his wrist hurt something fierce, and he
knew he couldn’t last here forever. It seemed that the mountain ash was holding
off something, but could it hold off everything? He didn’t want to find out.
The trees were as still and all encompasing as ever, and the night just as
stagnant. Maybe, he could make a run for it. If he could run back the way he
came maybe he could pass back out of this nightmare. It was a longshot but
Stiles was afraid of what would happen if waited much longer. He was exposed
and crippled, his best chance was to run. There was still half a bag of
mountain ash and the wolfsbane in his pocket so he had a failsafe if he didn’t
make it far enough. And only if he had the time to do it.
Stiles stood up sorely, balancing himself and waiting for a small bout of
dizziness to pass. There should be enough light from the moon to see where he
had fallen downhill, but all he could see passed the silloutes of the towering
pines was darkness. Still, there must be something different. The teen
continued to rotate 360 degrees and oh so slowly until he noticed something. A
break in the trees! It wasn’t huge, but he would have definetly noticed ramming
into a tree on his way down the hill if there wasn’t one, and it was the only
area big enough to make a difference. The rest of the trees were all uniform,
as if it were a real cage. So he had a plan, and a path. If only Stiles could
find the courage to do it. If only he could be so sure it wasn’t a trap.
‘Of course it’s a trap! It was a trap in the first place. Come on feet, don’t
get cold on me now.’ Stiles laughed under his breath a bit; he was cold all
over. So it was either die of exposure or starve. ‘I think I’d rather go out
fighting.’ Stiles grinned a little glumly. ‘But first, maybe I should play it
safe.’
A couple of slow steps was all it took to make it to the line of mountain ash
and Stiles raised his hands, ‘now or never,’ he thought. The line parted
smoothly, albeit there was a bead of sweat running down his forehead. He
stopped. Listened and waited. His pulse began to race and he could hear his
heartbeat in his ears. He breathed shakily, in and out, in and out. The tension
in his chest dropped to his stomach and he turned, his head and neck twisting
lightning fast to peer behind him. Nothing. And he was off, pushing his legs as
hard as he could, harder than he would in Coach Finstocks suicide runs for La
Crosse. His injured arm tucked against his belly and his uninjured one pumping
long and hard with his strides. As he got closer to the opening in the trees he
could see where the hill began to slope upwards and he gave a mental woot as he
prepared for the haul up the hill. His blood was now on fire and the recent
cold forgotton. Legs buned with effort and stomach tightend intensly as he
drove to make it quickly up the hill, taking care not to slip on the leaf and
twig laden ground. The earth under his shoes was fairly soft, so when he made
it halfway up he was able to grip into the groud and finish without slipping.
With what little light he had he noticed the hill taper off and the beginnings
of dark and thick forest loom in front of him. Stiles knew that he hadnt taken
any turns in his haste to get away from whatever had chased him so he barrled
right through the dense foliage, one hand attempting to take away the brunt of
snapping brances from his face. If he could see more, he didn’t look. Getting
as far away as possible and as quick as possible was his only concern. The
sound of him rustling heavily through the forest must have been loud, but there
were no signs of anything following him. No screams, no laughs and no
thunderous sound of something giving chase.
Stiles had tears in his eyes and for a brief moment he thought everything was
going to be okay. When his right hand pushed against something soild and
strangly smooth, he panicked. The young man was surround by stinging branches
and cold darkness, but he could not move forward. He moved left and right, but
the solid mass blocking his path would not budge. In a fit of frustration he
slammed his right fist against it and the strange mass echoed back with a dull
thud. Maybe he had gone the wrong way? Perhaps this was a house or some other
structure; there was only one way to find out. Stiles could only go one way, so
he went right to keep the strange thing on his left shoulder and to use his
right arm to feel his way through the darkness.
There was no end. Stiles felt as though he’d walked a mile, but he was
resonably sure that no structure in Beacon Hills was this long. Not to mention
the fact that there were no chips, dents, or texture of any kind. Just a
seemingly endless wall of what apperead to be cold smooth glass. The teen could
not help the frustrated tears that fell down his cheeks. He was hopelessly
trapped in a place that he wasn’t sure even exsisted. Maybe he had died out on
the Hale property, and was now forced to live out his afterlife in purgatory,
or hell, but he knew that wasn’t the case; he could still feel pain. He also
wasn’t dead yet, so he wiped his eyes on his dirty sleeve hoodie and trudged
onward. Weary burnt sienna eyes had adjusted to the light and he could make out
even more of the deep forest foliage. He had made it out of the heavier
underbrush, and was now standing fully upright in a copse of heavy trees.
Stiles couldn’t say what type they were, but when he touched them they were
rough and cool. The other side of the strange glass was starting to become
easier to see as well. It was no different from where he was, he just couldn’t
get there. The same trees that stood on his side seemed to mock him from the
other and he clenched his fist in frustration.
At least whatever had chased him had not yet shown itself. Not that it
wouldn’t...
Stiles could make out an opening in the trees. Where the forest ended a large
valley opened up to highlight brutally sharp mountains and a rather cold but
beautiful night sky. This places moon stood chillingly above him in a sea of
stars, larger and brighter than any moon he’d ever seen; it was haunting but no
less lovely. For a split moment, Stiles thought that dying in a place like this
wouldn’t be so bad, but when he looked to his left he could see those trees on
the other side still mocking him. He was officially trapped. There were no
spells or potions he could use to get out of this mess; just a small handful of
mountain ash and some wolfsbane.
The valley was filled with thigh high grasses, soft as silk and earthy
smelling. It was still dead quiet when he entered the grass, only the sound of
his crunching footsteps could be heard. Every so often he would stop, listen
and look to make sure he wasn’t being followed. So far he wasn’t.
Not too far ahead of him, Stiles noticed a mound. It was a soft grassy mound
that stood not much taller than himself, and when he climbed to the top he
noticed that it had a nice view of the surrounding area. Stiles was torn
between using the last of his mountain ash and saving it for more dire
circumstances. He had a nice viewpoint, and he knew he could hear something
coming through the tass grass easily, so it seemed a waste to use it now.
Seating himself upon the soft ground, Stiles despairingly thought of his dad
and friends. He wondered if his dad was looking for him, and if Scott would
notice at all.
‘Probably making out with Allison and Isaac...’ His thoughts trailed off into
an exhausted slumber.
*~*~*~*~*
 
Stiles was warm, almost cozy as he slowly opened his eyes. ‘Did I fall asleep
again?’ As he uncurled his body from a fetal position he noticed something odd,
it was light out. He looked behind and noticed that it was dawn! The sun had
finally risen and he could see the golden green of the tall grass, the dark
green and earthy brown of the forest, and the brilliant cyan and plum of the
sky. It was the most beautiful he’d ever seen the world. Except maybe when his
dad had managed to buy him an xbox 360 for Christmas that one year. No, no this
was definetly better. When he pushed off the ground to stand up he noticed that
him wrist didn’t hurt anymore. He twisted it and stretched his fingers, it was
as if nothing had happed at all. Maybe he had been dreaming all along?
“Then where the hell am I?” His voice was whisper soft and although it looked
like California, the very Northern part, he knew that the mountains werent that
pointed and sharp, and he shouldn’t let his defenses down to soon. But he was
grateful that he wasn’t freezing and he didn’t feel as though he’d gotten run
over by a truck. The teen had endured silence for a while now that he didn’t
notice the rustling of the breeze first, or the sound of animals moving around
him, so much so that he didn’t notice the strange small creature that was
gazing up curiously at him until it spoke.
“Hello,” it said. Stiles was so startled that he gave a very undignified yelp
and fell hard onto his backside. The thing gave a look of concern and rushed up
to him, its short and stubby legs carried it confidently. “Forgive me, I did
not mean to startle you. I am Olk.” The little creature Olk, held out both
hands in an attempt to show Stiles that he was no threat. So with a bit of
reserve, and a bit of nervousness, Stiles held out his right hand for Olk to
grasp and shake in a warm and friendly manner. As Olk shook his hand, Stiles
took the time to study the friendly creature. It was short, maybe two in a half
to three feet tall with warm pink skin, human like toes and hands, (although a
little chubby) and a very elven face with long pointed ears and earthy green
eyes. Stiles assumed Olk was male from his flat chest and his narrow hips to
broad shoulders, but couldn’t confirm it indefinetly from the leather like sash
that was tied around his waist.
“H-hi. I’m Stiles. Nice to meet you.” He replied as evenly as possible.
“Stiles, huh? I’ve no idea what that is, but it’s nice to meet you just as
well. Us folk don’t meet a lot of humans, in fact I don’t think we’ve ever met
one. Yep, you’re the first, but what could you possibly be doing here in the
first place I wonder? Curious.” Olk talked fast and with a bit of worry in his
tone.
“Look, Oak-,”
“Olk,” the small elven creature cut him off.
“Olk. Sorry,”
“None taken human creature,” a wide smile and Stiles couldn’t help but grin
with him.
“Olk, could you tell me where I am and how to get back to the human world? You
see, I didn’t mean to come here. I was wondering around the woods when
something big chased me to an open area filled with scary pine trees and then I
heard screams and laughing but not before I had this really messed up dream-,”
Stiles was getting frantic and he kept talking at a pace where Olk could no
longer follow him. So the strange creature held up pink chubby hand in an
attempt to get the human to calm down.
“Sorry, sorry, god I am sorry. It’s just been crazy you know? I just want to
get back home...” The teen trailed off in misery and Olk couldn’t help but feel
sorry for the wayward human.
“It’s okay child,” Olk smiled. “Why don’t you come meet the missus and we can
try and sort out your dilemma, okay?” Stiles looked unsure.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” The creature nodded his head in reassurance.
“Of course. We have much time before the darkness settles, and by then we will
have a safe place to stay.” Stiles was still a little wary, but he felt as
though he could trust Olk, so he and his new companion set off together in the
tall grass. Stiles noticed that they were traveling toward the mountains and
away from the forest. It was comforting to get away from the woods he thought
he was going to die in, but this unknown territory unsettled him as well. Olk
didn’t seem to mind as he confidently walked toward their destination.
“What is this place Olk?” Stiles asked.
“Well it’s my home firstly, but I suppose you humans might call it an alternate
world. A magical one perhaps. And I don’t want to pop your buttons but I have
no idea how to get into your human world.” The crestfallen look on the boys
face made Olk wince in a bit of sympathy.
“Look, just because I don’t know how doesn’t mean there isnt someone who does.
It’s just frowned upon you see; the less we know, the safer we are.” Stiles
couldn’t argue with that, protecting your home was important.
“Do you have any idea what chased me last night?” The small face looked
contemplative.
“Many terrible things there are in the darkness. I’ve had three of my children
eaten by vergs this season already!” He shook his head sadly and Stiles
frowned, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
Wise eyes looked up at him, “Do not worry yourself over it human. The vergs are
swift burrowing creatures, not much taller than myself. Crafty lie tellers I
say. Do you think that was what chased you?”
“No, this was bigger, much bigger.” Olk looked ahead in contemplation for a few
moments.
“I am sorry human Stiles, it could have been any number of things really; we
will just have to ask the missus.” Stiles’ new companion shrugged it off and
the two continued to trek towards the mountains in companionable silence.
As they walked, Stiles had time to think. It was obvious that he had walked
into a different world altogether, and it was very much connected to his. But
how do you simply walk into another world? Olk had said that he had never seen
a human before in his world, so how was it that Stiles Stilinski of all people
manage to get stuck in it. How did Olk know Stiles was a human if he’d never
seen one? Not to mention the thing that chased him. If it had chased him inside
this world, when did he cross over? Or maybe it didn’t. Perhaps the creature
could move and out of worlds. Or perhaps-
“Human Stiles!” The tinny voice of Olk broke through Stiles’ musings. The
taller companion gave a sheepish look before aknowledging the smaller man.
“Sorry Olk. Lost in thought.”
“Of course Human Stiles, I understand. We are nearly there.” Olk smiled and
pointed a chubby hand toward a bright emerald mound of grass. Small, but vivid
flowers bloomed from the top in a rainbow of colors. The mound couldn’t have
been more than a few feet in diameter and was not entirely out of place amongst
the tall golden grasses. A bit eccentric perhaps, but in this vibrant
otherworld it seemed reasonable.
“Wait here for a moment. I am going to speak with the missus.” Stiles nodded in
understanding and watched as Olk lifted the mound with ease and slid inside.
A warm breeze ruffled through Stiles dark chocolate locks and he closed his
eyes and breathed in the scent of earthy grass and something a bit sweeter,
flowers perhaps. It was strange however, the darkness had frozen him, terrified
him to the core, but there was something about it he missed. A strange feeling
of nostalgia that he couldn’t help but think wasn’t all that out of place.
Moonlight and shadows flashed themselves across his eyelids, giving him a an
almost reasurring sense of peace. He opened his eyes. The sun had not moved
from its original position; still rising or setting behind the treeline. There
were no clouds in the sky, only a lovely gradient of effervescent color,
blending seemlessly into the deep blue of the sky. A rustling brought Stiles’
eyes back to the grass mound where Olk poked head out and beckoned him to come
closer.
“The missus would like to meet you.” Olk smiled. “Why dont you come down and
make yourself at home? It’ll be a bit tight, but you should have enough room.”
A skeptical look plastered itself on Stiles face.
“Are you sure?” He asked.
“Of course! Of course! Us burrow folk like our home spacious and open. You’ll
be just fine.” Stiles felt like he nothing to lose so he bent down and followed
Olk into his home.
The drop to the hard earthy floor was easy and painless, and where Stiles
thought there to be darkness, was soft ambient light. Olk must have noticed
Stiles staring.
“Ah, those are glowstones. Easy enough to find and quite long lasting. The
missus is quite skilled in magicks, and my cousin Velve says her stones are the
brightest and last the longest!” Olk said with no little pride in his voice.
The tunnel was warm but not overly so, and Olk stood easily in the passage with
a few inches of room still left above his head. Stiles moved along as swiftly
as he could on his hands and knees, and it was apparent that his companion was
giving him time to catch up. Glowstones to his right and left seeemed to hum a
bit with energy when he passed. It was a steady hum, not sharp, but low and
easy like the soft sound of ocean waves. Stiles was a bit entranced by it and
once again Olk took notice of it.
“You can hear it cant you? The magick in this world gives off a certain kind of
energy, I am not surprised you can sense it.”
“And why is that?” Stiles asked. Olk only turned to gaze at him curiously.
“You made it here did you not?” It was the contemplative look Stiles made on
his face that had Olk tilt his head in curiosity. “Are you not a wizard human
Stiles?”
“No. Well, not really. I can form a circle of mountain ash and break it but
that’s about it. In fact, I’m pretty lame compared to most people with magical
abilities,” Stiles immediately thought of Deaton and Ms. Morrel.
“I think you think too little of yourself human Stiles. Even I, a non magick
user can feel that you have something special deep inside you. The missus knows
it as well.” Olk whispered the last sentence, as though it were a secret, and
it caused Stiles’ face to warm.
“Come along now! Can’t keep my lady waiting.”
After a few more minutes of traveling, the tunnel opened up into a large
chamber. Stiles could stand but he had to duck his head a bit. There were
several openings to the left and to the right, but the one Olk pointed to was
the one straight ahead.
“Down this way is the home of my mate and children. The furthest tunnel to your
right leads to another exit and the rest are to the homes of our neighbors, all
of which are pleasant enough.” Olk scratched his chin and looked thoughtful.
“Why is it I’ve only seen you Olk? Are there many of you?”
“Ah! That is because most of our kind don’t care for the early rise; I however
do. And besides, that’s the best time to be picking lundwill mushrooms. Well,
before the rest can get to them anyway. It’s what I was doing when I found you
upon that large mound you see.”
“Gotcha,” Stiles relplied before his stomach gave a very noticable rumble. The
pink that appeared on his cheeks made Olk chuckle a bit. “Sorry,” the human
said sheepishly.
“Do not worry Human Stiles, the thought of delicious lundwill mushrooms would
make anyones tummy rumble. And you do look a bit peckish, perhaps the missus
could make up a nice pot of stew?” Stiles could only nod in agreement and
follow the little creature into his home.
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