Synopsis: Stiles drinks a vial of poison to keep a group of hunters from using it on Derek or the pack. When he dies and is revived all seems normal until he rather quickly begins to see visions of the past and future. The pack struggles to find answers as a possible new threat makes itself known.
A/N - I had this idea and I couldn't let it go. I hope I did it justice. Please review if you have a few moments and let me know what you think. This fic is a little dialogue-heavy in places but I think it works so I kept it in. Exciting stuff to come.
FYI, when Stiles is having a vision, you'll see the text in italics and the "scene" segmented from the rest of the story by three dots (•••).
The first thing that Stiles noticed when he came to was that his entire body ached. The second thing was that Derek's blue eyes were glaring into him with a mixture of anger and concern. He started to open his mouth to speak but his throat burned which shut him up quickly. The sounds of fighting had stopped around him and though he felt like an elephant had collapsed on top of him, he knew it could have been much worse.
"How is he?," he heard Scott ask, though he couldn't see him.
"The poison seems to be out of his system. I think he'll be fine."
Stiles had never given much thought to Derek's voice before. Usually it was a means of barking orders or telling him to shut up, which Stiles figured was an important quality for an Alpha. He or she would need a commanding voice. Now his voice was soft and it had an almost soothing quality to it.
"What should we do about the mess?"
"Burn it," Derek said. Stiles felt someone's arms cradle him and he was lifted up suddenly. "I'll get you home," he promised. Stiles nodded and closed his eyes, feeling the pull on his consciousness.
A girl in her mid-twenties was brushing her hair. Derek stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. "I don't understand why you have to go back. Especially after all this time."
"Peter is our family. We need to look after him and it's been ages since I've been by to see him. It shouldn't take more than a couple of days." Derek's face held no emotion as he watched her. "Just be careful."
"Always," she smiled. She put her hairbrush down and stood, putting on a coat and scarf that matched the green in her eyes. She picked up a dufflebag in one hand and reached for Derek's shoulder with her other. "I'll be back before you know it, little brother."
Stiles' eyes flew open and he sat up quickly, inhaling deeply and loudly. Scott looked up from the pallet on the floor and he was next to Stiles in a second. "Dude, you're fine."
"I had the strangest dream. Wait, what are you doing here?"
"You freaked all of us out and I told Derek that I would stay with you tonight. You died on us at the warehouse. Do you remember?" Stiles did.
He had felt the pain start in his throat as he swallowed the vial of poison. It quickly moved to his heart and he felt his mind slow down just as the pack had arrived at the warehouse. Considering the alternative of the hunters using it to slaughter all of his friends, Stiles thought his own death was a necessary price, especially since the poison could be activated just by touching the skin of a werewolf. "Yeah, I remember."
"Derek gave you CPR while we took out the hunters. He saved your life." His hand flew up and smacked Stiles on the head which resulted in a loud pop filling the room momentarily.
"What the hell?!"
"Don't ever die on me again! You aren't the stupid guy that drinks from the colored vial. What the hell were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that I couldn't let any of you die. I didn't think it would work on me. I thought it was a werewolf-only kind of thing." Stiles watched Scott's face carefully and he felt the tension in his shoulders relax when Scott nodded. If Scott had detected his lie or decided to act on it if he had, he wasn't going to confront Scott about it.
"Do you need anything? Water?"
"No, I'm okay. Just tired."
"Then go to sleep. We don't have school for another six hours."
Stiles nodded and rolled onto his back as Scott returned to his pallet. He stared at the ceiling even after Scott's breathing synchronized and it was obvious that he was sleeping. His thoughts drifted everywhere, from the hunters who were likely all dead, to the pack that seemed to be alive and well. Then he remembered the dream and the realness and how it felt more like a memory. He had never seen Laura Hale when she was alive, at least not that he could remember. Sleep soon lulled him back and when he closed his eyes he didn't dream at all.