The Spark of Change (Teen Wolf)

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Peter Hale was a mess, or at least, his aura was. I'm only able to hold it off for a total of 15 seconds before I'm swept away. PAINANGERGRIEFHATECONFUSIONLOVEDETERMINATIONGREEDLONGINGHATEHATEHATE- Snowcapped trees burn endlessly, destruction and devestation everywhere. A cave? surounded by flames and filling with smoke. Screams and howls? and children crying. Desperation and pain and uselessness and revenge and soul tearing sorrow and endless wrath are all consuming. Sheer madness and chaos reign and scorched- Its Derek shoving me into Stiles and pushing us behind him that first breaks through. Then, it's Stiles's soft, pleading voice in my ear that gives me something to latch onto.

I can barely breathe under the strain of the force of Peter Hale's insanity, and he is most definitely, terrifyingly insane. It's like the impression of him is being constantly overwritten. The very essence of who he is being asaulted, fuck, it hurts- I yank hard on my packbonds, wrapping them around myself to hold me together, to keep me from sinking away again into my empathy, but it's barely enough. Needing more, I reach for the bond I have never dared touch. The one I didn't want. Suhel, please, please. I reach even further, into the place where my magic seems to reside, the core of who I am, deeper even than all my bonds. I feel the Nemeton's magic flood into my system from bond, entwining with my own, and I can finally breathe again.

With the burst of magic comes my awareness, and it seems I've gone full force glow stick. I'm limp against Stiles, who's holding me protectively and snarling at Peter something I can't quite hear yet. Deeek is bracing himself against the wall, something, blood?, smearing from his hands. Pain radiates off of him, despite him managing to keep it from the bonds, mostly. Looks like the fight already started.

Stiles doesn't turn to me as I use him to stand properly. Just grips me tighter. "Layla?"

"Mmhere." I mumble, nuzzling his cheek, and sending reassurance in response to Derek's anxious bond tugging.

"My, look at you. A Gaurdian made of my own bite. All that power ready to be used, gorgeous." Awe, greed, determination, pride, posession. Well, looks like I just became the shiny new toy. No, the new tool for revenge. "I left you alone when I realized you hadn't turned into a wolf, a temporary dismissal. A mistake on my part."

Derek roars, charging, desperation and fear fueling his anger. His worry hangs heavy. I get my first glimpse of the fight, and…it's not even really a fight. It's too one sided for that. Peter is smacking Derek around like he's an inconvenience more than anything, and it's terrifying. It's my first real meeting with the alpha, the reality check I wasnt expecting when comparing Peter's abilities to the betas. It's one thing to know alphas are the strongest and another thing entirely to comprehend it. I can barely even see the fight, but it's obvious even to me the gap in ability is immense, especially terrifying considering how hard Derek usually kicks Scott's ass in training.

Peter's monologue about his life post-fire makes me physically sick. It's not just the mess of agony and insanity that is his aura, it's the truth he speaks about being trapped in his own body and not meaning to kill Laura. I should hate him, despise him for throwing me into this world of violence and unreality, but all I feel is horror and grief for another person who was lost in that fire. This- this thing isn't Peter Hale. Not anymore. He died with his family. This is just a shade, a husk.

"I was going to wait for dramatic flair," Peter says, casually stalking Derek into a room as he tries to crawl away, and Stiles and I are shaking in fear for our packmate. I hear something that sounds like spinning and then feel Peter's Alpha spark pulse. "When you look at this good, why wait?"

"He healed his scars," Stiles whispers tightly in my ear, and I almost want to laugh at how seriously Stiles takes his job as my eyes.

Peter then goes on to tell Derek how sorry he is. How unstable the fire made hime. How Laura was an accident. How they're family. He continues unaffected as I drag Stiles through the door to kneel next to our pack mate who's bleeding on the ground now that Peter seems done flexing. Derek is silent as I rest a shaky palm, on shoulder, leaning into him to help prop him up. Peter reached out his palm, and my heart drops as he whispers, "Derek, join me."

Derek slowly turns to lock me, green to silver, and at this distance of mere inches, I can see his face, bloody and bruised. He asks me a silent question that could change everything.

"Derek. Derek," I swallow roughly, fear burning bright in my chest. Not of injury or death, but of loosing someone precious. "Please. He's telling the truth, yes, but he isn't- he isn't okay. Everything good has burned away, and left only revenge and blood lust. We can't, we can't leave him like this. If there was I way, I swear- Derek, please-" Derek's face goes stony, and he begins to stand, firmly pulling my hands free from where they clutch at his jacket, and I sob, dropping my head down to rest on Stiles leg, hopeless and unable to keep myself up any longer. How can you ask someone to trust you over family, to condemn someone they love, when they barely know you? How could I expect anything else? We're gonna lose him. He's leaving us.

Stiles pulls me in tight, his own pleas spilling out to a silent Derek. Derek turns away and I can't even bear to watch, so I bury my face into my best friend's shoulder, trying not to scream at Derek to don't leave. You said it- you said we are pack. You agreed we would do this together.

"I learned something's since-since the fire. Learned the cost of ignoring my senses, ignoring my packbonds, of trusting to easy." Derek says rather abruptly, and my head snaps up, confused my nagging of my intuition and the seemingly random tangent Derek decide to fly on. "When Layla looked at you all I could trell was how bad she felt, how much empathy she could feel, even towards a monster that attacked her in the night. I can't smell anything but anger from you. Right now my bonds-" he chokes a little, shaking a bit, " my bonds to this pack tell me that they are agonized at the thought of loosing me. That they …care. Uncle Peter," Derek's voice cracks, but he straightens his shoulders, head lifting, and fists clenched. "Why don't you open our bond back up?"

There is heavy, tense silence in the room that is damning. "You can't, can you? Cuz my Uncle Peter is gone, and all that's left is his rage."

Like the headlights of a car passing by a window, I see a flash of what is to come. Just a split second, but it's enough as the alarms in my head are suddenly back, and Peter's rage suddenly spikes. He roars, lunging at Derek, and I know his strike might just killl him.

I'm screaming, throwing my hands forward before I even know it, before the Alpha can take more then 2 steps towards my precious packmate, the packmate that choose us. The magic that's been humming in my blood and under my skin, bursts forward like a lightning strike, erupting from my palms and striking Peter, putting him through the fucking wall.

I slump into my best friend, one part shocked, one part incredulous, ten parts suddenly exhausted. Shit, magical exhaustion. My bond with Suhel, on the other hand, is fucking thriving. Damn tree is practically screaming its glee. I sigh, once again deciding to just fucking roll with it, too mentally drained to bother emoting.

"Holy shit, Layla, you just fucking magic bitch slapped him. The alpha. Layla!" Stiles is shaking me a bit hysterically. I grunt.

"Yeah, I was bloody there, now stop it! God, I'm gonna vomit on you!"

Stiles immediately freezes, letting me collapse on him. I turn to Derek, where he stands, silent and struck dumb. And before I can stop myself, I blurt out, "Are you leaving us?"

"After you saved me again?" He gives a terrible bitter little chuckle, "No, I- I just need a moment. He's gone. Go home."

"Derek." He glances back over his shoulder. "You-you chose us. You…"

"We're a pack."

And with that, Derek disappears without another word, packbond still locked, and without a glance behind him. Stiles gently cradles me, helping me to my feet and into his Jeep after we sneak past hospital staff rushing to the scene of the commotion we caused. Stiles holds my hand, as he shoots off texts to the pack, updating them and one to Danny telling him to cover our asses, pretty please. He doesn't say anything about the tears dripping off my cheeks that I can't quite manage to stop.

XXXXXXXXXX

Stiles pulls me down into his side in the blanket nest that occupies, near permanently, the side of the den. He hums softly, tucking me under his chin and runs his fingers through my hair, waiting for me to speak. I'm almost entirely numb. Too overwhelmed by the events of the day, too wrung out, mentally and magically, too saddened over things we couldn't help,

"Peter." I manage to say.

"You're sad because you know we have to pout him down." Stiles murmurs softly into my hair, immediately on the same page. "Your upset we have to kill a victim."

I whimper, my face to his colorbone, curling my feet in his. "It's what my magic says."

"Layla. It's fuvked up, but you said it yourself. He isn't alright. This…might be the only mercy we can give him." I shudder, thinking of his pain, his insanity, and I can't disagree.

"Derek." I say.

"He needs time. He isn't used to having people who want to give him comfort or care. He didn't leave us." It's true, but it doesn't help when Stiles's own hurt drips through. It's greedy, but we want him to come to us when he's hurt. We want his trust and reliance. We want him to say we're pack again, cuz for a second...

"We almost lost him." I tell Sriles, quietly.

"But we didn't." He tells me shakily.

"He chose us." I say, my lips twitching, a tiny bit of warmth crawling back into my heart.

"He did." I glance up to see the ghost of the goofy grin I love. If we spend the next hours crying out that fun bit of additional trauma, well… neither of us are snitches like that.

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I gain awareness to the feeling of an anxious Derek sitting near my head where Stiles and I are curled in the nest. At some point the rest of the pack has come in, and Sunny is splayed out on top of our hips and sides like a belt, but the others are more spread about. Gently, detangling myself from the clingy, octopus masquerading as my best friend, and nudging over a sloth sibling, I turn over, blinking sleep from crusty eyes. More hesitant than I've ever been with him, I reach for Derek, and his face crumples as he takes my hand in both of his, bowing his head away.

He starts in that blunt abrupt way that I've realized is characteristic of him. "I wanted to sort myself out. My fucked up head and heart. Didn't want to have to rely on you guys for even that. But I couldn't even manage that much. Fucking pathetic." He laughs, a bitter awful sound and I hate it.

I sit up reaching for him, pulling him tightly against my shoulder, and feeling him slump bomrelessly, his breaths ragged.

"Stupidwolf. Did you forget? We're pack." It comes out weak, and watery, but Derek, after a few minutes of me carding my fingers into his hair, finally returns my hug, face tilting into my neck for a solid wolfy sniff session. With some gentle coaxing, and the nudging of a Sunny pup, I maneuver Derek into the space between Stiles and I, and he ends up with his face basically buried in my upper chest, something I would have fucking drop kicked any non pack membrr for doing.

Stiles takes the opportunity to rollover and wrap both me and Derek up with a soft snore, making me grin. Sunya, still probably asleep, sits up in that creepy puppet way kids have, and faceplants back across our collective sides, making me wince. Derek seems to relax farther, tucking his nose more firmly to my collarbone, and drifting off. I follow him, relieved and elated to have my pack whole and around me, once more.

XXXXXXXXXX

"We are visiting Suhel this morning." I tell the teens and younger sibling in my kitchen. The parents had already left for work, so I was feeding the rest of the pack with Stiles and Sunny's help.

"Suhrel?" Scott says, confused.

"My magic tree." I explain to the blank faces. Apparently, only Stiles remembered the reason I litterally shine. Idiots, I think fondly. "Yesterday really fu-fudged me up. My whole body still aches." I tell therm, smacking Sunya upside the head for giggling at my nearslip. Yeah, she's heard it all before, but she's too young to normalize cursing just yet. Brat.

"Are you gonna go into another coma?" Derek says, suddenly alert.

"I might if I don't see him soon," I shrug.

"Stiles, Layla, and I will go. Scott, stay with Sunya." Derek raises his hand to stop the protests, and terrifying puppy dog eyes from our cutest packmates. "The…Alpha is still around, and who knows what else that's in the perserve. Besides Stiles and I need to meet the tree anyway, considering our future positions in the territory."

He isn't wrong, although I'm not sure Suhel will take visitors. On a side note, ok future alpha, I see you. I smirk, sending some pride at him, and he seems to suddenly find those pancakes real interesting. After a good cuddle session, and time to process, I feel better. In the end there isn't anything I can do for Peter, and he has to be taken down. On the bright side, we know who the Alpha is, and our pack is stronger than ever. Just keep swimming.

"Jackson is suspicious of us." Shit, can't catch a break, Goddamnit.

"It will hold, he isn't that suspicious yet. He thinks your doing drugs, right?" I ask, scanning vibes, something I've been learning to do by interacting with the magic in my body. I'm not great at it, but intuition is usually triggered by inquiries, my own or those around me, so I don't have to try terribly hard. Like dipping a hand into water, it gets wet, even if you can't fold your fingers to get a proper scoop. Scott nods, "Yeah, it will be okay for now. Worst comes to worst, I'll take care of it and then set Danny on him." Might have to take his oaths early since I keep putting him to work, shit that makes me feel a bit guilty.

"Wait, what? Danny?" Scott asks. Ah, we forgot.

"Heh, um yeah, about that…"

XXXXXXXXXX

"This is it." I announce as we break through the trees into the clearing. "Suhel, I brought guests!"

"What even is our lives anymore?" Stiles rambles nervously under his breath as Derek, carefully guided me over giant roots, closer to the stump. "I'm having an interview with a magic tree for my position as a magic protector for a werewolf pack. Fuck everything-"

I snort, giving both boys an arm squeeze before I step forward and climb the stump to sit on it as I did in my dream. My eyes widen at the little tree growing in the center of the stump, about 8 inches tall. My, my, someone's been doing better.

"It's all thanks to you."

I glance up to see Suhel start to shimmer into view, glowing in the morning light peeking through the canopy above, a wide smile crinkling his eyes as he drops to sit in front of me, reaching his hands out to me.

I reach back automatically, and my magic sparks to life. I notice my hair pooling with Suhel's, quickly turning the same silver until I can't tell where his ends and mine begins. A wry smile splits my lips. "I don't remember gardening, dude."

He laughs brightly, delightedly, squeezing my hands warmly. "Your magic. Your bond brings me new magic, untainted, strong magic that allowed me to start healing myself. It will take time, but it will be the start to bringing back balance."

I huff, the glee pouring out his bond infectious. "I wanted to thank you. You helped me protect my pack. You gave me the strength I needed, even when I neglected to visit when I said I would." I tell him sincerely. "I… was scared. But, I promise, I'll be a better partner from now on."

He gently tugs me by my hands until our foreheads bump. "As it is, you have already adapted remarkably well considering the circumstances. I can find no fault in you there. And I gave you nothing you didn't already have. Besides, you are my person." I snort at thae matter of fact tone, but don't disagree with the tree.

"Uh, Layla, I'm assuming you're talking to the nemeton, but we can't see or hear him. You honestly look like your talking to the air." Stiles is giving me the same vibes as when I won't share my food with him, on the rare occasions I manage not to be a doormat for my precious people. I glance back at Suhel, and yeah, he is in fact a bit transparent. Huh. Spooky.

Suhel, able to feel my confusion, sways like wheat in a field. "They won't see me until they take their official vows to the territory, or until I'm stronger, and can spend magic on it." I relay this to my pack.

"Then, for now, Great One, please accept our gratitude and our sincerity in our desire to protect this territory, and the balance. We'll… we'll do our best." Derek finishes quietly.

"Yes. That." Stiles adds nodding rapidly like a bobble head.

Suhel smiles. "You'll do well. I have full faith that this territory will see peace again." I translate quickly. "Now, you came here for other things as well." He states casually, running a finger across my palm and making me bleed on the little sprout. I let him, already having expected it.

"Yes, two things," I agree, watching the baby tree start growing like it's on fast forward, fascinated by the feeling of magic spilling forth around me, a happy hum vibrating in my chest. Holy shit, the whole place feels different then the last time I was here. Must be Suhel's doing. "You implied that you could help regain my energy before I put myself into another coma."

He nods, "Just as yesterday, when you asked for my help, it is not difficult to share power through the bond because it isn't power that I lack. My power is infinite. The problem lies in the fact that it has become blocked and tainted. The leylines stagnate. Your magic, your blood especially, allows me to grow stronger, and access a bit more of my power, which reduces the blockage. The purity of your magic, especially the power given in kindness, helps remove the taint, combat the stagnation. By using your blood, I'm able to regain my strength without draining yours, and our proximity will automatically help restore you. I'll push some more magic into you to further ease your exhaustion, magic that I can now use because of the blood you gave me."

I squint, tilting my head a bit, honestly kinda confused. It makes some sense, I guess. I give him blood, he uses it to clean and access his own power, and then he can give more back, but this also still kinda seems like bullshit. Whatever. I shrug and give him my hand again. I felt electricity spark against my skin, before the bond between us pulls taught, and I feel energy spilling into me. It's fucking weird, like an earthquake in my soul, like an adrenal rush, like a warm hug and cookies, and like ice down my back, and a hundred other things that don't make sense. I shudder, pulling away, my skin feeling tight, but like I had way to much fucking coffee.

"Thanks." I slur, swaying, a little lightheaded. Suhel just smiles, eyes glowing merrily, and a hand brushing my head like low hanging branches. I forcibly pull my mind from the buzzing under and in my skin. "The other thing. When we met the… Alpha, I was… overwhelmed. My empathy ability made me completely vulnerable, and without Derek and Stiles, he-he could have killed me at any moment, and I would have been helpless."

Fuck, I hated admitting that. Ugh, acknowledging that shit is awful. Suhel seems to droop, wilting along with me at the thought, but then he straightens, growing tall again. "You will still need time to learn how to control your abilities. You will be far from vulnerable as time goes on, as you saw yesterday. The best way, you've already discovered."

"By grounding myself to my bonds."

He smiles, "Yes, an anchor." Oh, shit, it's like the wolves. "I have something for you." He reaches up and pulls the lovely crown of silvery flowers of his head and sets it on my palms. I feel the surprise from my packmates ripple through the bonds, and I hear Stiles makes a loud squawk. Guess they can see it. "This is made from my form, and it has my essence in it. Use it to help yourself anchor. You can use it to hear me, and it will even have some of my power if you run too low."

"I appreciate it, but these are very obviously magic flowers. I'm pretty sure no flower is naturally this color, or this perfect." I say, touching the delicate petals skeptically.

Suhel laughed. "Silly, Little One. You are magic. What is and what can be. What are those things when faced with your will?" I look down at the impossibility in my palms, and I reached for my magic as I close my eyes. I thought of a crown made of big beautiful sprigs of entwined lavender. I tug, and I open my eyes as flowers brush my palms and fingertips. In my hand, a lavender crown sits. Huh. Magic. I should probably feel surprised, but I've more or less accepted that magic is bullshit, and stopped being surprised by it. I huff, turning to watch Stiles cheer excitedly.

"Go on, then, Guardian mine. You have things to do." Suhel tells me, soft as grass on skin. I grin, leaning forward to hug a tree. He leans into me, happiness racing in the bond. He fades away under my fingertips, but the feeling doesn't go away.

I place the crown on my head, and crawl to the edge of the stump, and Derek appears to scoop me off and carry me to more even ground. I give him a flat look, rolling my eyes as he set me down. "I could have got down on my own, ya know."

"The roots are difficult to navigate. You look dizzy." Shit, he's not wrong. I pout.

"Alright, let's head home." I say with a grin.

"Wait," Stiles yelps, nearly bowling me over in his rush. "What happened? You stopped talking to us! Where did the crown come from? So, we can still meet the Nem- Suhel later? What about-"

I huff, and drag my friends along, Suhel's laughter ringing in my ears after us.

XXXXXISAACXXXXX

I stare at the ground between my feet, watching blood drip between ragged sneakers, as i sit on Layla's porch steps. I'm numb, but the voice in my head is almost never quiet. Useless, worthless, can't do anything right, pansy, stupid, should have died instead- I flinch when I see boots step into sight in front of my own.

I look up and find the warm eyes of my gaurdian angel. Layla. Dark brown eyes searches my face in that intense way that's uniquely her. Like she's getting ready to set the world on fire. I watch as it takes a few moments for her eyes to focus and register the damage. Her eyes are hidden by fluttering, thick lashes, and she takes a deep breath, almost managing to hide the shake.

She carefully raises her hands, long, slim fingers but strong, and always so gentle. I've long since stopped flinching from her. I let out a breath, far less composed then she, and lean into the warm palms having learned in the last several weeks that her's is a touch that won't bring pain. She steps between my knees, pulling my head to rest against her belly. She always smells like mint and chocolate, and something indescribable. I grit my teeth, doing my best to force back the stinging in my eyes.

I don't really know when my Dad disappeared, when he went from smiles and laughs to screams and vitriol, from head pats to punches, a morning coffee to a constant whiskey flask. Maybe he died with Mom, and maybe my brother shielded me from it. Maybe he died with Camden. Maybe this was who he was all along. But one day I looked around, and there was no more light left, and home became hell.

Then I first met Layla, and it was like the world was ending, and she was the storm that was going to finally finish me off, drown me in my despair, as she looked at me and layed bare all my secrets. Now I look back and see my own personal hero and savior. I'm not sure I would have survived another day had she not swept in, pouring light into the dark I'd been living in for so long, giving me hope that I'd long since lost. The feeling starts to return to my body as I breathe against my first friend in a very, very long time. The one who saved me, and continues to do so with everyday that passes. I stopped believing in Gods, but she proved to me that guardian angels are real enough.

"You said I could come. That the door was open," I blurt out, tucking my head further into her side, embarrassed, but unable to control myself. She'll get annoyed, her generosity will run out, she'll get tired of dealing with my desperation, she'll realize I'm not worth it, I need to know when she'll leave-

"It is. Whenever you need it. I'm sorry I wasn't here quicker." I shake my head, finding the energy to finally hug her back, irrationally relieved for the assurance. "Come on, let's get some food in you. I'm starving."

She pulls away, and it's difficult, but I detach myself, the burning in my fingertips finally registering. Layla reaches for my hand, stops, glances down, and her face goes carefully blank before she gently reaches out and holds my hands, leading me inside where Stiles, (Since when was he here?), is holding the door open. Derek materializes and follows inside, and I wonder if they saw how pathetic I am.

The world goes a bit hazy, and the next thing I remember is a bowl of pasta being placed in front of me and Layla settling on the stool next to me. My personal angel calling me back to reality. "Hey, Isaac?" Her voice as soft as ever. I glance at her, and it's only the slightly misaimed eyes that remind me how blind she is and that I have to verbalize.

"Yeah?" I clear my voice, but the screaming and crying I did in the freezer has thoroughly fucked it into sounding like a 60 year old heavy smoker.

"You wanna take the pictures for the portrait today?" She asks, tilting her head as mercury spills into her skin, her hair turning into moonlight, and I notice the crown of lavender in her hair for the first time. Ah, an angel. My eyes widen, excitement shooting through my veins.

"Can we?" I lean forward, ignoring the pain in twitching, bruised and bloody fingers from clawing at the freezer door for hours, itching to get started on the new piece. Art is the only thing I love and managed to hold onto in the middle of the hell that was home. My only escape and I know damn well Layla's trying to help me do that now. I grin, feeling my lip split a bit more.

"Sure, nothing much else planned today." She shrugs, her dimples appearing and her eyes slitting from the force of her smile. "Go shower, I'll bring you a change of clothes, and then Derek and Stiles will bandage you up." She gives me a look I know means that I better let them take care of every wound down to to the papercuts, "Then meet me in my room when your done. Mmkay, see you soon." With a flourish, her dish is in the sink and shes's vanishing up the stairs. I stare, a bit dazed by her characteristic bulldozing.

"Better hurry up." Derek states quietly, beckoning me as he strides down the hall. I tear off after him. Hell forgotten in the home of an angel.

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