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Self-Sacrifice (Part 1 of the Sacrifice Arc)

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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Jeff Davis et al. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: could be read as character death

They were all going to die. Everything had felt plain weird since Lydia had pulled him back from the other side of death. As soon as Scott had told him the plan he had known, just known it wouldn't work. Only no one had believed him.

Now, here they were, dying.

The eclipse had robbed all of the werewolves of their powers, but one teeny tiny fact that no one had thought to mention was that one of the jobs of an Emissary was to protect the pack during an eclipse. It had made Ms Blake stronger and she was kicking their arses.

She had his dad, Scott's mom and Mr Argent all standing up holding daggers to their own hearts like automatons. She'd thrown him across the room when he'd tried to get to his dad, Scott was in a corner having an asthma attack, Alison looked like she was out cold and none of the wolves were doing any better. Currently Ms Blake or Julia or whatever the hell her name was, was ranting about how having the guardians kill themselves would give her so much power not even the alphas would be able to stop her.

Stiles was not going to let that happen. Deaton and Ms Morell were doing nothing to help, but he was not playing their game. He had a spark, he could be an Emissary and he was a virgin and he was a philosopher and he tried to be a warrior occasionally, he'd had to be a guardian to his dad after his mom died because they'd kept each other together and he'd been known to patch up Scott and Derek. If self-sacrifice was what it would take then he was going to save his dad and his friends. His pack needed power, so he was going to give it to them.

Not that he knew how he was sure of any of this shit, but Ms Blake was not going to win.

As he dragged himself toward the nemeton he was pretty sure he'd broken things that couldn't be fixed anyway. There was wetness on his back and he couldn't feel things he was supposed to be able to feel. He'd done the sacrifice thing once, he could do it again.

When his hand came back dark red as he touched his side, he knew he was right and with the last of his strength he reached up and smeared his blood all over the knot symbol at the centre of the shrine.

'This is me,' he screamed with his mind, 'this is my spark. Take it, take all of it and give it to them.'

It hurt. In fact it hurt a lot, but he heard wolves howl even though the moon was still in eclipse. Dimly he was aware of a woman screaming and a voice calling out 'Enough'; Scott's voice, and then he was falling into darkness.

It was strangely peaceful and warm, like going to sleep in a comfortable bed.

The End (For now)