He jerked awake and everything was bathed in amber light. For a moment all he could think about was all the places that hurt, and then he looked up to see the source of the light and realized the moon was in the Earth's shadow and the memories slammed into him.
Stiles stumbled and flailed his way out of the Jeep without so much as a second spent looking or even thinking about the damage. He did however jerk back to it for a moment to snatch up the aluminium bat that had been jarred loose by the crash where it had been forgotten only God knows when.
Armed he stumbled towards the Nemeton, towards his father and Scott's mother and even Chris Argent. They needed help and while he could hope that the others had saved the day, the inexplicable flow of clouds around the moon and the howling winds made him fairly certain that the Darach bitch was still in power.
The location of the Nemeton practically glowed in his mind. It had been the location of his greatest failure as Scott's friend. It had been there for Derek's tragedy. It would not get any more death or despair to feed it's power, not tonight, or ever, if he could help it.
If... if it had to be fed blood tonight? Well he had sacrificed himself once today and he was already bleeding, what were a few more drops for the ones he loved?
Finally he saw it, and the ground heaved around it, shifting and collapsing. His heart felt like it stopped and then he stopped, took a breath, and looked. He saw his opening and gripped the bat tightly before moving. He leaped from one seemingly solid patch of dirt to another before diving into one of the now many gaping holes in the ground. This one, he was almost sure, used to be the door.
He looked around and then moved towards his father. His mind desperately believing in the strength of the bat in his hand and a fierce determination in his heart; darkness be damned.