Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/853977.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Cora_Hale, Scott_McCall, Allison_Argent,
      Chris_Argent, Isaac_Lahey, Vernon_Boyd, Sheriff_Stilinski, Lydia_Martin,
      Danny_Mahealani
  Additional Tags:
      Romance, Happy_Ending, Kid_Fic
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-09 Chapters: 1/? Words: 2232
****** Spellbound ******
by Jokr88
Summary
     During a witch’s final moment on earth, she casts a spell on Derek
     and Stiles, transforming them into children. Now, the pack must
     scramble to break the curse—preferably, before the Sheriff finds out.
     Derek and Stiles were never close before the curse, but now they find
     themselves steadily drawn together and developing feelings.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Witches.
Witches have invaded beacon hills, leaving a trail of havoc in their wake, with
a mass of corpses being the result. The pack was at a loss, the deaths having
no clear connections or factors binding them together except for the clear
ritualistic themes. The pack had no leads to go on until a particularly brutal
murder required the pack to call on Deaton for help in analyzing the crime
scene. An event that coincided with what the police assumed was an ordinary
break in at the mysterious vet’s home.
"Are we really sure this is something we should be looking into? I mean it's
not like these attacks are even linked to the pack? Heck, we're hardly even
sure these attacks are linked to each other." Scott asked, clearly becoming fed
up with the lack of results.
"It's good you found this as quickly as you did. Without being able to
investigate the crime scenes in person it has been difficult to get a clear
picture of what it is you're dealing with."
"I still don't get why you couldn't just come back after the police left. It's
not like everything suddenly vanishes after my dad’s gone." Stiles asked
"I've told you before mister Stilinski, to tell the difference between a true
Wiccan and a practitioner requires looking very closely. An advanced ritual can
require as much preparation and research as any advanced mathematical equation
and both the specific positions of the relics and the auras in the area at the
time are key. All of which become disturbed immediately after the scene has
been disturbed. Which is why I told you not to come near the scene when you all
found it. If you'll excuse me" Deaton said as he went to answer his phone.
"We can't let this keep happening Isaac." Derek said "Did you have any luck
tracking their scents?"
"No, I was able to follow it for a while but, real Wiccan's or not they knew
enough about werewolves to cover their scent in the river."
"Isaac, take Boyd and Cora to where you lost the scent and see if..."
"I'm afraid that's no longer necessary." Deaton said, hanging up the phone. "I
can say with some certainty that they are very much real Magic users and that
they are far away from here I'm afraid."
"I don't get it," Scott replied having taken it upon himself to listen in on
the vet’s phone call "what does a break in have to do with the witches?"
"It has to do with the fact that they broke into my house, and from what I was
able to gather from Sheriff Stilinski, I can venture a guess as to what they
were after."
It turns out that after spending many years searching for powerful spell books,
manuscripts and journals the advisor of sorts had collected over the years. All
in an effort to keep them out of the wrong hands, sadly he wasn't the only one
interested on spell craft.
The sun was already setting and having had no more luck tracking down the
witches, decided to call in the Agents, hoping their tracking experience could
make the difference. Thankfully, this finally began to turn events in the
groups favor, the Argents being experts on eluding werewolves recognized signs
the pack had missed.
Chris and Allison were strapped with an assortment of weapons, the wolves were
their obviously own weapon. Stiles, on the other hand… Allison met Stiles gaze
with a kind smile, and retrieved a hunter’s blade. Upon offering it up to him
though, Stiles bulked. He wasn’t Rambo. How was he going to use the knife
without coming into close contact with the witches? Or ending up with the thing
lodged into his own thigh for that sake.
Regardless of these thoughts, Stiles took the offered weapon and made an effort
to catch up to Scott and Derek, who all but sprinted, with the entire pack
trailing behind them.
The moment they reached Three witches stood around the circle, hands raised
above them and towards the darkened sky, chanting in a foreign language.
All at once the witches stilled their chanting and directed their attention on
the group. The wind softened its breeze, the flames dwindled and the howls of
nature’s creatures fell away.
“Well, this is a surprise.” A blond witch noted, rather amused.
“Give us back the spell book.” Derek demanded with authority, scowl creasing
his features, legs parted and arms tense, ready for a fight. The alpha shifted
partially, bearing fangs, eyes gleaming madder with contempt all whilst he
released a foreboding snarl.
“You don’t really believe that will work?” The ginger haired witch chuckled.
“Do you even know the kind of power contained in this tome, once we unlock the
old man’s seals we will be unstoppable.” Her sister added
Slowly the witches moved in together, until they stood side by side and took
hold of each other’s hand. Chanting followed, so in sync they became one solid
voice. Their eyes lit and flashed gold. The group watched in amazement when the
witches’ linked hands merged and their bodies followed suit. Much like the
alpha twins, these witches could join their form and unite their power.
Their dissimilar features shifted to form one as their hair lengthened and
blossomed into a deep maroon.
“So, you know we’re screwed right.” Stiles joked, hoping to make light of the
situation, an attempt all but ignored by everyone around him.
Derek roared as his shifted, launching himself at the witches’. He never even
got close enough to attempt a strike before he was being thrown in the air with
a relentless gust of wind and slammed back on hard earth.
Scott followed immediately after Derek, managing to take advantage of their
distraction and get a slash into the witches’ abdomen, drawing blood.
The united witches let out a cry, one hand clutching at the wound, their other
flicking at air and with it drawing another gust of wind to send Scott soaring
and landing harshly on the ground.
Allison released arrows, striking the witches in the leg and again in their
collar, as Cora, Isaac and Boyd circled the witches; hoping to keep them
distracted. The witches began to stumble back, stunned by each strike and Chris
followed suit, firing his gun. This time, the witches responded swiftly,
stopping the bullets in place and forcing them back where they came. Chris
managed to dodge them and retrieved daggers from under his coat, throwing them
at the witches just as Derek and Scott charged them. Taking advantage of the
chaos.
The conjoined witches struggled to fight off both werewolves and the oncoming
attacks from Allison and Chris. Until it all seemed to become too much for the
witches to handle.
Allison struck an arrow into the witches’ chest and the scream that broke
through seemed to shatter the air itself. The witches’ form shifted, struggling
to remain whole. Body rippling with energy, the blond witch dispelled herself
from her remaining sisters that remained joined and fell to the ground dead.
Allison’s arrow sticking out from her chest.
Amber eyes, burning gold and glazed with tears the conjoined witches’ shrieked,
sending a blast of wind, powerful enough to knock the whole group of them off
their feet.
The witches were so caught up in sending another blast of wind to the group
that they didn’t take notice of the betas slowly making their way towards them.
Boyd and Isaac sprang forward and grasped a hold of the staggered witches’
arms. The witches struggled to free themselves from the betas hold, but not in
time to protect themselves from Cora who landed a fatal blow and slit their
throat with razor-sharp claws.
Again the witches trembled, struggling to remain tied together, but failed as
the red-haired witch crumpled to the floor, head awkwardly tilted and revealing
a lacerated neck.
The lone dark haired witch stood before them, glaring with vengeance and
bellowing out an outcry that sent a wave of energy through her and knocked
everyone to the ground. As the witch screamed, her vocals sharpened to a
piercing ring, inhumanly strong and powerful enough to strike a painful blow to
the werewolves.
Allison, Chris and Stiles stood, remaining immune to the octave of the witches
cry, no longer able to hear her screams. They watched in horror as the
werewolves shouted their agony, clutching desperately to their ears, blood
seeping past their hands.
Stiles revolved the hunter knife in his hand and seized the blades jagged edge,
concentrating on his aim. Licking his lips, he hurled the knife and watched
with fascination when it struck the witch’s torso. "Damn, I really didn't
expect that to work.
The witch gasped audibly, hunching over and ceasing her deadly shriek.
Derek and Scott were the first to stand, shakily attempting to remain upright.
While Cora, Boyd and Isaac remained grounded, all whimpering softly and
clutching their ringing ears, still floored by the pain
Stiles stilled when the witch rigidly raised her head and met Stiles’ gaze head
on. The intensity of her gaze disturbed Stiles.
"So be it." She cursed, and once more began to chant in the same strange
language. Amber eyes shifting once more to natural honey before flaring gold.
Derek snarled at the witch, treading the distance between them in long strides
and without hesitation, plunged his claws deep into her abdomen.
Vibrant amber met glowing scarlet and releasing out a curse of a chat, she spat
at the wolf’s face before releasing an unstable exhale of breath and sagged
over the alpha’s arm, dead. Derek snarled, retracted his claws and shoved the
dead witch’s body off of him.
Silence followed. The betas rising to their feet, their eardrums having healed
and stared down at the three dead bodies. Chris approached his daughter and
brushed a strand of hair from her face, obviously relieved she hadn’t been
harmed. Scott made to stand at the hunter’s side and took hold of Allison’s
arm, silently affirming for himself his ex-girlfriend, was okay.
Stiles contemplated all the amusing and witty comments he could make about what
they’d just been through, when he felt an odd sensation claim him. A liquid
coolness, like water coursed through, sliding over his skin as his mind became
a fog of jumbled thoughts. He winced when a flaring tightness constricted his
skin, tender to the touch.
Stiles wanted to call out to his friends. He wanted to cry for the soreness
that consumed him, but his mind was a mess of thoughts, some comprehendible
while others were less so.
“Scott, are you okay?” Allison worriedly asked, raising a hand to barely caress
one of the wolf's bloody ears.
“It’s healing.” Scott bashfully brushed away Allison’s touch and struggled to
come up with something to say, unable to do so, he turned his sights to Stiles.
“That was some throw, man.”
Scott stilled, dumbfounded by the boy who stood before him in place of Stiles.
The child frowned down at himself. An oversized gray sweater slid and exposed
scrawny shoulders. The boy stumbled in bulky Vans and immediately kicked them
off and hopped out of the pants and boxers that pooled under his ankles.
"Woohoo!" The boy laughed with triumph and stumbled several steps away from the
pile of undesirable clothing, long loose white socks flopping as the
hyperactive child ran towards the body of the dead blonde.
Scott gaped at the youngster before him; the child crouched down on his
haunches and poked at the motionless witch’s face. The boy was the spitting
image of Stiles when he was five.
“She looks super real.” The child spoke awestruck as the whole group stared at
the boy with wonder.
“Stiles.” Scott voiced shakily, his stomach churned, unsettlingly when the
child took notice of the other bodies. This Stiles, ran to each body in turn
and felt at their faces, raised frail arms up and chuckled as they plopped
heavily back to the ground when he released them.
“Who are all of you?” Came a grumble of frustration. The group shifted their
sights to another child. A child with onyx hair and piercing hazel eyes that
seemed to evaluate the people around him with a cautious stare.
Scott gawked at the boy who could only be Derek. The child could be no older
than five and wore the same black t-shirt Derek was wearing moments earlier. A
hand gripped to loose-fitting black boxer-briefs, keeping them from slipping
off. The child’s undergarment peeked out from under his shirt as he stepped out
of large jeans and shoes. Much like Stiles, this child’s socks flopped loosely
as he made his way towards them.
“Derek.” Cora squawked, eyes wide with disbelief.
Mini Derek met the beta’s gaze with a raised brow of fascination. “How do you
know my name?”
A shrill cry rang through the woods as mini Stiles scuttled away from the dead
bodies, tears springing forth, hands trailing behind, floundering hysterically
as he ran in circles, screaming shrilly.
Wild-eyed Stiles sobbed, “They’re real! They’re real! Daddy! Help, Daddy!
DAAAAAAHHHHHHDDY!”
The crowd marveled at the children standing before them—well, one stood while
the other flailed about, sprinting off into the woods. They couldn’t help but
feel a sense of dread fill them by the trouble yet to come.
End Notes
     Disclaimer: I neither own characters, storyline, nor anything else.
     Characters and concept is copyrighted to Jeff Davis and MTV.
     Everything is used for entertainment purposes, not to discredit,
     profit by, or otherwise infringe in bad faith.
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