How to Survive a Hurricane
How to Survive a Hurricane teenwolf stories

absinthefae I'm Scavengersdaughter2 on Ao3!
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An excerpt from How to Survive a Hurricane (read on Ao3; by Scavengersdaughter2).

Stiles cradles Derek's lifeless body, who died protecting him. This can't possibly be how it ends, right? Derek can't be gone.

How to Survive a Hurricane

"Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds that darkness has always arrived first, and is waiting for it." Terry Pratchett

You're in love with a boy who is a prayer on your lips with no god to go to.

He's bleeding sunlight and you're trying to patch up the holes in his heart with trembling fingers but the blood keeps spilling.

You're in love with him. Here's the best part: he loves you more than his own life.

He's golden as they come but he's bleeding out.

So here's the worst part: he loves you so much more than his own life.

Stiles held Derek's face, his arms, his chest- hands scrambling over anything he could hold onto, fingers slippery with blood, eyes blurry with tears.

He choked out clumsy, miserable words, hoping Derek would somehow hear him and just wake up. "Please wait a little longer. I will save you."

Stiles touched Derek's bloody wounds, hands passing over his body. But Stiles couldn't help him. He couldn't make it better- like all the times Derek made better for him.

Derek loved Stiles more than he loved his own life.

The wind ripped at his clothes, tears freezing on his cheeks, then wiped away by the frigid rain. The air shifted from hot and humid to icy rapidly.

Stiles' limbs were freezing, his fingers numb with the cold. But the air was warm.

He smelled rain and ozone. The sky lit up as the hair on his arms stood on end.

What was he supposed to do tomorrow, after he'd been screwed out of today?

He blinked up into the rain fall. His face was warming.

He knew that he was dying. Something in him said, go ahead, die. Sleep. Become as him, accept it. Then something else in him said, no, save the tiniest bit.

It doesn't have to be much, just a spark. A spark can set a whole forest on fire.

Another world gazed through the smoke.

Something echoed in the distance. Like music. Like the earth itself singing.

His mother's voice.

There was too much going on. Stiles couldn't properly hear. He needed to hear it.

The grass and flowers started deteriorating in the air, burned away by Stiles' raw power.

Darkness was falling. The fireflies were burning. Everything was burning in slow motion.

Is this it? Is this the darkness falling? Is the world lost?

It was raining then suddenly it wasn't- drops fell and stayed suspended in the air. The water didn't touch the ground- didn't touch Stiles.

He didn't have much time. Stiles knew, in some distant reach of his fractured mind, that his body wasn't meant to carry that much power.

Probably had to do with no healing factor and Deaton's magical orchestration of his birth. He'd be eaten from the inside out before too long. Then the nymph could have him, broken mind and body.

It didn't really matter, not anymore.

Who cared anymore? There was no way home, there was nothing to fight for, there was no more-

Hush, came a voice that quieted his inner turmoil.

A light appeared in all that darkness. She was tall and thin, white gown blowing in the absence of a breeze. The air was still.

Stiles stared at her, his throat tight. "Mom?"

She glowed, long hair moving like she was underwater.

"It's not fair. I just wanted to save him." He grabbed Derek's hand, already growing cold and then looked back to her. "Save you. Save dad.

What's the point of all this power if I can't even save anyone I love?"

Her eyes were sad but kind as she spoke: "I know the world is filled with trouble and injustice. But reality is as beautiful as it is horrible.

Never forget what it is like to see the world as a child, Stiles: where every autumn leaf is a work of art; every rolling cloud a moving picture; every day a new story.

We, too, emerge from this magic, like a wave from the ocean, only to return back to the sea. Do not mourn the waves, the leaves, and the clouds.

Because even in darkness, the wonder and beauty of the world never leaves us. It's always there, just waiting to be seen again." She leaned over him, grabbing his face.

He couldn't feel her fingers. Couldn't feel her breath on his skin as she said: "You are stronger than you believe. You have greater power than you know. Tragedies is that they only befall the pure of heart. You are allowed to scream.

You are allowed to cry. But do not give up."

She picked up a flower that was half burned and in her hand, it healed and was made whole once more. "You are my child.

When everything is lost and you feel yourself falling into darkness, remember this. You are my child. And I will watch over you always."

She extended her arm and gave him the flower. He tried to touch her, just one more time, but she was too far away. He couldn't reach her.

The nymph whispered in his ear, Yo u ar e no t stron g enoug h t o withstan d th e stor m.

Stiles blinked back tears, turning to face his darkness. "I am the storm," he said, glancing back at empty air.

His mother was gone when he turned back.

He wiped at his eyes. The law of the universe said that the man he loved was lost to him.

Stiles said: Watch me save him. He saved me first. I defy the stars; I defy heaven and hell.

He pushed away a world that conspired so much suffering. There was nothing to go back to and worse to look forward to.

Stiles didn't want to be there anymore. He wanted to be with her.

With Derek.

Stiles pushed himself up with bloodstained hands. He wanted to wash himself in the earth, in rocks and grass. What was he supposed to do with all this loss?

More than that, he wanted everything to stop.

Time had begun marching on once again. The rain, the whirring of the wind pulling at his hair and clothes, the pain-

He wanted it all to stop.

And it did.

The fire burning around him, the stubborn flames the rain wasn't touching, stopped their dance.

The rain stopped falling midair, the droplets pausing in their descent again like a thousand sparkling diamonds, glinting in the flame of frozen fire and lightning strikes.

The clouds stopped their swirling rivers in the sky.

There was no clap of thunder or Stiles' heartbeat in his own ears. No wind. No sound.

And the frozen world around him became suffocating. He didn't just want the world to stop, he wanted everything to stop.

So it did. And with it, the panic ceased.

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