Note: This is the 11th part of the “Home Is Where the Spark Is” series. To understand better what’s going on, we recommend reading the previous entries. Enjoy!

Fandoms: Teen Wolf, Sterek

Characters/relationships: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale, Alan Deaton, Marin Morrell

Rating/category: R (explicit), supernatural, post-Teen Wolf, canon and non-canon elements, slash, M/M, Sterek, hurt/comfort, dark, angst, aged up characters, Spark Stiles, Magic Stiles, Emissary Stiles, Emissary in training Stiles, detective Stiles, matured Stiles, Alpha Derek, switch Derek, switch Stiles, drama, epic romance, love, magic, soulmates, Mate bond, Emissary bond, werewolves, PTSD, trauma, insanity, depression, blood, gore, triggers, temporary disability, temporary blindness

Summary: The battle for Derek’s sanity is a hard one and it comes with a heavy price as well as more sacrifices on the mates’ part. Luckily, they aren’t alone in this battle.

Disclaimer: This is a product of our imagination and was written only for entertainment and fun. We don’t profit from this fanfiction and we mean no harm or disrespect against any real person, culture or custom that might appear in the story. All original pictures and fictional characters used in the story belong to their respective owners and credit goes to them.

Juliette GD edit

Home Is Where the Spark Is
By Just Jim & Useless-girl

11: Can’t Go Back – Part 1

Waking up without knowing what had happened, it was too familiar. It was too normal to even give it much thought. It would probably be easier to count the times he had fallen asleep normal instead of all the times he had been knocked out in some way. First thing he did was scent the air before he even opened his eyes. Old blood and bleach trickling at his sensitive nose. A warm body was curled up against him, which made him peek because that made him unsure. Stiles? The human was in fetus position, face pale, dried tear streaks staining with pink because of forgotten blood streaks and bandage wrapped around his arm. The sight of that made it all come rushing back in startling clarity he hadn’t been prepared for. Derek remembered Stiles looking at him with shock and pain before darkness had claimed him.

The bandage… that was something he had done. The wolf glanced to his hand, the nails dark with dried blood from where his claws had torn into somebody who had been trying to help. Because he thought he had been Lucifer. The realization crushed him, it was bad enough he had harmed Stiles in rut but this was much worse: he could have killed him, would have maybe if he had been more broken. More broken? Who was he kidding? He was completely and utterly in pieces.

‘It would be kinder to put him down.’

Marin had said that, he had heard it but he hadn’t understood it, not until now. These moments of clarity weren’t going to come very often. He was but a figurine of glass, dropped too often with pieces missing and cracks all over. One little gust of wind and he’d be shattered to nothing. It wasn’t a question of if, it was a matter of when. Stiles was going to find a way, he knew that, but he was suffering so much already. With a shaking hand, Derek reached out to push some of the unruly hair away from the mole-dotted face, leaning in to scent him. He smelled like tears and sorrow and pain, because Stiles had given so much already and gained so very little in return.

“I love you,” Derek breathed, placing a kiss on his cheek. “I’m going to protect you too.” Quietly as only a werewolf could, he extracted himself from the corner, keeping his eyes closed because he couldn’t see the hallucinations right now and he needed to do this while he was still able to. Making his way outside to the balcony, he opened his eyes to look over the town, the morning light casting a misty glow over everything. It was a beautiful sight to look at, or should have been before it all turned and twisted into something it wasn’t with blackened trees and destroyed buildings. Derek had picked this as his last sight, not Stiles because he didn’t want to see him as a corpse or as Lucifer. The world twisted around him, time was running out. Taking a deep breath, he let his claws grow on both hands and with his shuddering exhale, he plunged them into his own eyes.

The pain was... it made him scream as warm blood streamed along his cheeks. Alpha claws meant the healing was going to be slow but he had raked them along the mountain ash lined neatly on the stone of the balcony. He couldn’t touch it nor break it and it hurt to scoop it up as he had done and there was no healing the eyes now with all the grains of ash in the ruined tissue. They’d heal without sight, but he still would have his alpha eyes to see.

The hallucinations stopped.

Stiles' sleep was restless, but he only dreamed a few times and thankfully he didn't remember too many details. Just the feelings and colors stayed. Pain. Fear. Worry. Being chased. Trying to protect. Red. Black. Love. Sorrow.

The next time he stirred was when something was messing with the mountain ash. The magic he had put in the lines protecting the loft and the building warned him and he saw the Nemeton's trunk flash in front of him. But what literally tore himself out of his dream was a scream and the stabbing pain in his eyeballs.

He sat up with a start, hands going to his eyes as he was roaring with pain too. He wanted to claw them out, to make it stop, not understanding what was happening. He forced his hands away and looked at them but instead of blood they were wet only from his tears. He could barely feel the protesting throbbing in his bandaged up arm and he looked around half-blind from the pain and tears.

"Derek?!" his breathing hitched when he didn't see his mate next to him. The burning eyes were searching the loft frantically while he stumbled onto his feet. His head got dizzy from the pain and blood loss and began pounding as if someone was drilling in there. "Derek!" he shouted with panic, trying to focus on their bond to track him down.

The chilly morning breeze coming from the balcony was a big enough clue so he instinctively headed that way, trying not to fall flat on his face. It was a close call a few times, but somehow he managed to get outside. The sight made him choke on a scream of his own.

"DEREK!" he hurried over, grabbing a shoulder for balance. "What have you done?!" he squeaked on a pathetically high tone, tears welling up in his throbbing eyes once more. Now he understood the source of the pain in them... On the wolf's face... there was blood and that substance...

Stiles' empty stomach twisted and he dropped onto his knees devastated. To make things worse, the ugly sobs made a return too as panic started making air too thin, his chest too tight, his field of vision narrowing down.

Derek had blinded himself. Just like Morrell warned. He shouldn't have sent her away. He should've been more in control over his emotions and magic. They should've acted immediately. And now... now Derek was blind.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, Stiles, it's okay." Blindly Derek reached for the sobbing human, not realizing his hands were stained with his own blood but they were a mess already anyways. Grappling with thin air, he reached and searched until he could pull the trembling body against his own, needing to have his anchor close, to have that heartbeat close, the one thing that calmed him even now through the throbbing pain. He hadn't even realized he was trembling as well until he had his mate close.

Pressing his face against the human's neck, he inhaled his scent. "I had to stop the hallucinations, they were making it so hard to have moments like these. I bought us some time." It wasn't going to last forever, he was still broken and the many memories of everything he had gone through were going to get the better of him. But now he could focus on being here, on not seeing what wasn't real but deal with what was going on a little longer.

"Don't cry. I can still see with my alpha eyes. And it's not forever, Jennifer healed Deucalion's eyes, you will heal mine someday too." Blood and tears were still pulsing out of the gauged sockets, the mountain ash burning away everything and yet he didn't even regret it once. That really hadn't been the best idea to make it permanent, because he had never dared to put mountain ash inside of him, especially after what had happened to Gerard. That had been warning enough.

"I had to do this, for you. I hurt you because I couldn't see what was real. I don't care about my eyes if it keeps you safe. I had to for you." He was a little too frantic, a sign that this wasn't going to keep him sane but it was going to help them help him heal.

"Oh god..." Stiles whined, the middle of his chest throbbing with pain which pulsed in time with their bonds. Derek did this for him... It made his stomach churn again. "You shouldn't have... my silly wolf," Stiles reached up with one awfully trembling hand to caress the back of Derek's head, not caring that with the wolf's face against his neck he messed up the white T-shirt with the blood and tears and...

The young mage focused on his breathing and to keep his magic from lashing out around them as it was reacting to his agitation and pain. After Morrell, his injury and now this – not to mention the panic and his exhaustion – it was getting difficult to control it because it was too off-balance by then.

The only thing that managed to stop the panic attack to grow into a full-blown one was when Derek reminded Stiles that he was going to be able to use his alpha vision. Like Deucalion had. And of course the possibility of Stiles being able to heal his eyes one day. He thought he could do it right now too and his free hand itched to reach up and do it, but one, he was scared of messing it up in his current state, and two, then the hallucinations would be back. And Stiles didn't want Derek to suffer more from those. His rational mind tried to take lead over his messed up emotions and he let it. Derek deserved the relief of not seeing things constantly. He just wondered if that was going to stay once he uses his alpha eyes. Maybe they had the ability to see what was real. He wasn't in the right mindset to ask about that right now so he let Derek have this.

"What will we say to Beth?" he whispered on a hoarse, barely there voice, his mind thinking ahead. With his dad and Melissa it was easy. They'd tell them the truth, but the little girl has been through enough, she didn't need more Hell-related trauma in her life. Once Derek will feel good enough (because Stiles had to firmly believe that the day will come!), they'll go back to the house and she'll have questions and probably cling to Derek for a long while.

"And..." Stiles paused, his bandaged arm's hold around Derek tightened a bit. He ignored the dull pain throbbing up in his wounds from that. "I'm sorry... I know it's already a lot... but... I think we'll need to balance the magic while your mind is clear and you're with me. I don't want to trigger you," he swallowed hard.

Weak. You are weak, Stiles, he heard on Void's raspy voice which sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn't real, he reminded himself. He had the anti-possession tattoo on his chest. He was protected. Morrell was probably right and the insanity was somewhat bleeding through the bonds to him. They had to act fast to save Derek from it.

"We'll have to weaken you with potions and magic so Marin's medicine can work on you. You won't be able to take my magic then and the longer I can hold the magic, the longer you have to heal. But... to be able to give as much time as possible, first we have to set back the already off-balance magic... I'm sorry. I'd skip this if it wasn't so important," he mumbled.

"It's fine, if it needs to be done, we'll do it." He'd like to wash out the ruined eyes to remove the mountain ash, bandage them so they could heal since he didn't even have eyelids anymore. If there had to be potions used to weaken him, then they would take even longer to heal but it was fine, the pain was going to be worth it as long as the hallucinations wouldn't return. Honestly, after everything he had already went through, being blind wasn't something he cared about, he had enough other senses to rely on. His worry was with the fact he was going to go insane rapidly and all they were doing was buying them time.

Not for the first time, he was reminded of his own mortality, that no matter how much he trained himself to be built like a warrior, there was a fragility to him still. One big push and he'd snap, they both knew it, which was why there was a certain urgency with it all. There was no answer to what to tell Beth, it was a worry for later if they managed to beat Lucifer's game of breaking him. If they lost, it wasn't a problem they had to worry about. He could only hope that one day she'd know he had done it for her. That he hadn't meant to abandon her like her mother had done.

This ritual… was it really fine? Was it going to be okay to feel the warmth of the magic wash over him? It scared Derek that he didn't know how he was going to react, he wasn't even sure if he could hold off the triggers without reacting violently. But Stiles was barely holding on, he needed this and it was the least Derek could give him. He would suggest moving inside, but he wasn't sure if they were even able to move at this point. Still, it was easier for Stiles should there be a bad reaction.

"Inside. Too cold out here for you." The wolf's body was shivering too but it wasn't the cold, it was the pain, the emotions of holding himself together.

"Okay... But first we tend to your wounds," Stiles sniffed and pulled back, wiping off the remaining tears then took Derek's hand. The silence in itself was an answer to his question regarding Beth, so he didn't push it. Maybe Derek thought that he wouldn't make it so he didn't bother with answering it.

As he helped Derek up from their kneeling position, he couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering. Memories of his mother came back. How difficult it was for her in the end. How difficult it was for Stiles to stomach that she barely recognized him. He wondered if she had seen things too as her brain deteriorated. Probably. Just like how Stiles had seen and done things while being possessed and thought he had the same disease. These memories were painful and made him even sadder, because Derek's condition was reminding him so much of his beloved late mother’s. But Stiles didn't say anything about it just carefully led Derek through the loft and into the bathroom.

The first aid kit was still on the counter, reminding him that he should check his own wounds too, but that could wait. First Derek. (Like always.) He helped him to the tap, making some lukewarm water run from it.

"Try to wash it out as much as possible. I know you used mountain ash too. I felt you messing with the line," he sighed as he began putting the necessary objects onto the counter. "I'll treat the wounds and help heal them with a potion. I think they will further heal during the balancing. My magic is always keen on helping to heal you," he murmured, waiting for Derek to finish washing his wounds and face.

Next part

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