Chapter Text
Samuel had shown up right after his mom died. He remembered standing at her grave side, feeling so completely lost and alone. His dad was slowly fading away, leaving Stiles to fend for himself, not that he could ever bring himself to be angry later on. But at that moment, staring down into the dark hole, the dirt sifting through his fingers, he allowed himself to be angry. It seeped through the barriers he had created, filling up his tiny body in a way he didn’t know was possible. He was shaking with it, being consumed by it, and at the moment he thought he could take it no longer, he heard the voice. His name was soft and sweet, lyrical on the tongue of some unseen creature, twisting and churning in his mind.
It’s okay Stiles, I can take it from here.
To this day, he still doesn’t remember much from the year after his mom died. Just glimpses of his dad crying silently in his chair, of a surge of protectiveness that was not his own every time his dad came home reeking of liquor. Mostly he just remembers a comforting darkness, wrapping him up and keeping him safe in the back of his mind, and a soft lyrical voice telling him stories of an ancient world long forgotten. And then one day, almost exactly a year to the date, he was back in his own body. His hair had grown out a bit, and his room was littered with things he never remembered having, books way past his age, and mysterious drawings of symbols around the door. It didn’t take long for him to figure it out, a few quick internet searches with the stories pulsing through his veins.
“You’re a demon.” the room reverberated with silence, but he waited.
Very good.
“You’re name is Samuel…and you possessed me. For how long?” he knew he should have been afraid, but he just couldn’t bring himself to feel more then curiosity.
I protected you for over a year. Do you fear me for it, Stiles Stilinski?
He looked around the room with new insight. He studied the protection ruins at his door, carved beneath his window, and into his headboard, for he knew now that was what they were. He glanced over the texts on alcoholism, depression, grief. There was something so fundamentally wrong feeling about the thought of being angry at Samuel, it was like being angry at himself.
“Thank you.”
You and I are in this together now Stiles, this is my penance, and I accept it as such.
It was Samuel that had shown Stiles the articles about the fire that had killed Derek’s family, refusing to tell him why, just commenting it was important, something to remember. He had yet to learn the true implication of that phrase from his companion, but he did it anyway, filing it away to keep for an unknown date.
Stiles sometimes wondered what it was like to be alone, how strange and unsettling it must be to be the only one in your head. He chose to ignore the bark of amused laughter that always reverberated in his mind each time the thought struck him.
You are an odd one Stiles, but I suppose that is why I like you so much.
Stiles just laughed, toweling his hair as he wandered back into his room to get ready for school.
Are you still planning on going out to the woods tonight with Scott?
Stiles grinned, dismissing the worried overtone of Samuel’s words, “Of course Sammy, I thought you were listening. There is a dead body to find! Okay, well half a dead body, but still!” Okay, maybe he was a little warped from having a demon in his mind for half his life, but come on.
Half a dead body just lying around in the woods? That was interesting stuff my friend!
Sometimes I wonder if this is my corruption, or if you would have turned out this way anyway.
“We’ll never know Sammy boy!” he flashed a quick grin in the mirror, knowing Sam would roll his metaphorical eyes and do his best not to scold him like the parental figure he was apparently becoming.
His dad was asleep on the couch after his graveyard shift, only shifting slightly as Stiles bounded down the stairs and out the door to his jeep.
Death trap.
“It’s my baby, and you love it.” There was no comment at that, just a wave of begrudging amusement as they pulled out of the driveway and over to the McCall residence to pick up Scott.
About halfway over Stiles turned on the radio, the sounds of Call Me Maybe blasting out the windows as it crackled to life.
Stiles, don’t you dare!
“I threw a wish in the well, don’t ask me I’ll never tell…” he cackled gleefully at the grown of irritation at the back of his mind.
“Hey I just met you, and this is crazy, but here’s my number, so call me maybe!” he was practically screaming the lyrics as he parked at the curb outside of Scott’s, his grin almost manic as his friend climbed into the front seat.
At his point in their lifelong bromance, Scott was pretty much used to anything Stiles could throw at him, “Having a good morning?”
“Um, the best morning because we, that being you and I, are going out to the woods after school to look for half a dead body.” Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best reason to be excited, but even this long after Samuel showed up, he still felt saying ‘I’m in a good mood because I’m teasing the voice inside my head’ was probably not the done thing.
“Dude, what? No. Why?” Scott was giving him puppy dog eyes, his lip stuck out as far as it could go, which lucky for Stiles was more ridiculous looking then adorable or convincing.
“Come on man, it’ll be fun.” Also lucky for Stiles, he was brilliant at the puppy dog pout.
“Fine, fine, I’ll come with you.” The grin Scott was sporting definitely took the sting out of his sigh, and even helped to distract from the spike of worry Samuel scent down his spine.
When they pulled into the school parking lot, Stiles sent Scott on ahead with some excuse about explosive diarrhea, which most certainly sent him running in horror.
“Okay dude, what is up with you today? You’re making me break out in a cold sweat from all this mother henning you’re doing.” He was conscious to keep his lips from moving too much, putting up the pretense of finding something in his backpack at the front of his jeep.
I just have a bad feeling about tonight and don’t think we should go.
He actually smiled at that, remembering how forced the kindness had been at the beginning of their relationship, “Samuel you worry wart, I didn’t know you cared. Come on, we’ll be fine. At the first hint of danger I give you permission to take over my body and run us to safety. Is that good?”
The wave of reluctant acceptance washed through their bond, the impression of Samuel’s smile pushing to the forefront of his thoughts.
“That’s what I thought. So can I please go to class without having a near panic attack?” he zipped his backpack up with a flourish, shrugging his shoulders as if finding his pen or whatever was a hopeless cause.
Fine, but do not eat the bean burritos at lunch today. I refuse to sit up all night while you puke just because you have no restraint.
“Sir, yes sir!” he did a jaunty salute as he entered his class, ignoring the look of pure bewilderment on most of his classmates’ faces.
The rest of the day went fairly normal, Scott continued to make that adorable furrowed brow expression in every class, and for the record Stiles did not eat the bean burrito for lunch. He had the bean salad which is completely different, even if it mysteriously is still made with the same exact beans.
“Ready to go dead body hunting?!” he bounded cheerily towards his jeep, ignoring the grimace on Scott’s face as he made his was way more sedately for the door.
Do not put on Call Me Maybe again, or I will possess your body and punch us in the face. Try me and see if I don’t.
Stiles faked a cough, giving what he thought was a very legitimate detour of his hand from the radio knob to his mouth.
Good choice.
“So Stiles, where exactly in the woods are we going to look?” Scott was fidgeting with the peeling fabric on the side of the door, his eyes earnest and puppy dog like yet again.
“My dad’s files said the body was found about a mile away from the old Hale property, so there we shall go.” He minutely nodded his head, accepting the memories of the newspaper clippings that Samuel pushed forward.
He still wasn’t sure exactly why Samuel had found them so important all those years ago, but he was thankful for the knowledge all the same. When his old jeep finally sputtered to a stop roughly a ten minute walk from the spot he wanted, a soft mist was starting to roll in.
Oh mist, a horror movie classic really, good touch universe.
Stiles unconvincingly tried to pass his snort off as a cough, but luckily Scott wasn’t paying much attention as he shifted nervously in place.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Seriously, did he take a class on those eyes? At least the pouty lip thing still threw it further into ridiculous territory then endearing.
“Yes Scott, I’m sure, now let’s go!” much to Scott’s amusement Stiles set off humming a rather off key version of ‘We’re Off to See the Wizard’ as he skipped between the trees.
They had been walking for a good 15 minutes, Stiles ever dreadful sense of direction sending them further and further into the woods when he felt a chilling pull.
“What was that?” Scott whirled around, a tree branch snapping unnaturally loud beneath his feet.
“Stiles?” Scott yelped, jumping nearly a foot in the air as he scrambled away from his friend.
“When I say run, run.” He said, or at least it sounded like him, except it wasn’t, because he definitely wouldn’t have said that.
He didn’t need a mirror, or the reflection in Scott’s huge frightened eyes, to know his own were glazed completely black.
Samuel, what the fuck?!
“Did you hear me Scott? You run when I tell you to if you want to stay alive.” Scott was just staring at him, his breathing coming fast and irregular as an asthma attack took over.
It was like slow motion as Scott took out his inhaler, one puff, two.
“Run!” Stiles’ legs were moving without his consent, his body going at a speed he could never have achieved on his own as Samuel’s powers took over.
Samuel, we have to go back for Scott! Why are we even running?
“He’s on his on now Stiles, you are my top priority.” he was startled, even as Samuel his voice never sounded so cold and hard with determination, so devoid of emotion.
Samuel!
But there was no stopping it as his legs carried him back to his jeep, spanning the distance in nearly a quarter of the time.
“We’ll wait for him.” Stiles tried to take back over his body, but knew it was futile.
They waited until the sky was on fire, the sun dipping closer to the horizon and setting the trees ablaze. Samuel finally moved from his perch on top of the jeep, stretching Stiles’ arms above his head with a satisfying pop. As he lowered his arms back to his side, so did his eyes fade back to chestnut brown.
“I can’t believe you did that.” The mental shrug he received was evident even without his words.
I love Scott because you love Scott, but you are and always shall be to the end of your days, my number one priority. If I have to leave anyone behind, including Scott, to ensure your safety, I will do what is necessary.
“You are a manipulative bastard, and I hate you for it.” The engine rumbled to life, jerking forward as he put the jeep in drive.
You’re welcome Stiles.
“Why did we run anyway?” there was no answer, just a gentle hum that Stiles had learned meant he was thinking.
“Samuel?” he checked his mirror absently as he shifted lanes to turn into his neighborhood.
There was something there. Something dark.
“Dark like oh say…a demon?” he grinned at the rush of fond irritation through his mind.
No, not as dark as a demon, but definitely different. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a demon. If I had to make a guess, I would say a shape shifter, and not a very mentally stable one at that.
“A shape shifter?!”He choked on his spit, sputtering and gasping to catch his breath.
Yes, a shape shifter, a werewolf would be even more likely if you wanted to be specific.
“A werewolf…in Beacon hills? That’s ridiculous. Werewolves don’t exist!” he hoped out of the car, his shock making him careless as he jogged up to his front door, seemingly shouting to himself.
Says the boy who’s had a demon sharing his body since practically elementary school.
“Touché Samuel, touché. So tell me more about these werewolves.” He flopped on his couch with a bag of chips and a soda, completely missing the blinking message light on his cellphone.