#dash grabs him by the injured arm he reacts in pain BOOM Dash looks like a jerk who breaks arms

[minty-bunni]

Danny could totally blame some of his ghost fight injuries on Dash if he times things right. He avoids questions about how he managed to break his arm AND gets the added bonus of making Dash look bad.

He could use this to get out of gym for awhile as well.

[yeet-man]

One's Rebirth (Chapter 7)

A/N: After 5 long ass months it's finally done. Hope y'all enjoy chapter 7 and till next time!

"It was a spar that was taken too far, I didn't mean-"

"Bullshit! You knew exactly what the hell you were doing!" J'me screamed with rage in his voice. His best friend dead and the person who killed him was giving a stupid reason. Adrenaline started flowing throughout his body and he was ready to attack at any given second.

Ryan kept silent and got ready to run at Charles. There was no reason for him to say any words, this was mostly between J'me and Charles.

"I know what it's like to lose someone trust me J'me, but listen to me when I say it was an accident." Charles tried his best to reason and stay calm in this situation.

J'me's rage grew rapidly as Charles continued opening that worthless excuse a mouth. He grabbed one of his kunai, gripped it tightly, ran forward a couple steps and threw it in front of him. Before Charles could react J'me was already in front of him and going for a punch to the jaw.

Even if his enemy had the ability to teleport, this didn't stun Charles at all. He grabbed J'me's punch, quickly grabbing his arm, turning around, tossing him over his shoulder and slamming J’me into the ground.

J’me’s body ached with pain after being slammed into the ground. He slowly got up onto his feet, kunai in hand as he winced. Every movement the boy took caused his body to throb. He ignored it for the time being, taking a couple steps forward, slashing at Charles’s face.

Expecting for J’me to be down and out after being slammed, Charles leaned back though not fully avoiding the kunai. A small trickle of blood fell from the tiny wound. The boy took a couple steps back and wiped the blood off his face. "Huh, you're really out to hurt me...I see." Charles smirked a little, when was the last time his life had been put in danger like this? He ran forward going for a wild right hook once he closed the distance between.

"You deserve death for your actions, but I was told to take you in so that's what I'll do by any means necessary." J'me put his kunai away, feeling regret as soon as it was out of sight. That didn't matter though for the time being. As Charles ran forward, J'me glanced over at Ryan and nodded slightly. J'me then teleported his friend to where he was while jumping upwards getting ready for a combo attack.

Ryan had just been standing there, thinking about how he was going to attack. "Yeah…" His voice was lower than normal as he agreed with what J'me had said. When J'me nodded at him, he simply nodded back with a slight smirk. "Let's do this J'me." For some reason he actually sounded a bit excited for once as purple flames snaked down his arm, swirling into the shape of a simple scythe. Without hesitation he dashed towards Charles, sending a wide horizontal slash at him, using the length of his scythe to his advantage.

As he saw Ryan form his flame scythe, J'me smirked knowing exactly what to do. Extending his arm down towards Charles, his palm showing while he muttered something under his breath. "Gale Palm!" A huge powerful blast of wind went from J'me's palm straight towards the enemy. Once the wind touched the fire from the scythe, the area in front of them was engulfed in a mini firestorm.

Charles chuckled to himself, his body making a passive barrier to protect him for the attack. The barrier cleared as he showed up in front of his opponent, his wild hook turning into an uppercut. His left hand knocking the flame scythe upwards, giving him a slight burn.

J'me's eyes widened with fear, they thought they had him for good that time. By the time the barrier had activated, he landed on the ground next to his friend. Pushing Ryan out the way and switching places with Mari before Charles could take his attack.

He didn't want Mari to take the attack, but this was the quickest thing he could think and do.

Ryan couldn't help but watch as Mari took the hit. "Fuck…" was the only word he could mutter.

The immortal girl took the hit head on without warning. She had been hit worse though, so it didn't hurt as much as it was supposed to be. Mari shoved Charles backwards before moving off to the side.

Charles smirked at the girl's action, being able to tank a hit like that huh? Well, a nice quirk that can be stolen. He ran forward stretching his arm out to grab her only to be stopped by Ryan.

J'me took this moment to gain the advantage, grabbing his kunai, throwing it behind Charles and teleporting to where the kunai was. He got into a low stance bringing his hand back, his hand starting to take a transformation of some sort. "I've never done this before, but it's worth a try." He looked at Ryan and just nodded, this was the finishing move hopefully. He began adding chakra to his arm, followed by wind, fire, lightning, water, earth. All five elements from the Naruto universe on his arm.

His arm started shaking, he knew he couldn't control it for much longer. It was time to finish this battle once and for all. "Ryan, Mari… get back. It's over Charles!" With a single movement, J'me launched his fist forward, all the elements unleashing at once with little to no chance stopping it.

Ryan held onto Charles as long as he could, making sure his opponent didn't touch. As soon as J'me told them to get back, he grabbed Mari and ran as fast as he could with the reaper. He stopped around the 100 meter mark so they could still watch.

Mari was confused with what was going on, but she didn't say anything but watch for the time being.

Charles was confused why Ryan ran off, turning around to see J'me say 'It's over Charles.' He looked at his opponents hand, "oh fuck…" BOOM! He was blown back from the punch, scratches on his body from the wind, burns that were caused by the lightning and fire. He felt heavy from the water and there was dirt all over him. He slid into the ground, laying there for a little while after he stopped.

J'me winced from the pain and held his wrist, it was most likely broken from all the pressure on it and his hand. He collapsed to his knees, letting out puffs of air trying to catch his breath. He wasted too much energy and started to suffer because of it.

Ryan picked up Mari and brought the both of them back to J'me. Once Mari was standing on her own, Ryan kneeled down and looked at his friend's wrist. "Dude, I'm pretty sure it's broken. But the move you did was pretty awesome."

"Yeah, I didn't know you could do something like that J'me. It truly was amazing." Mari smiled a little, brushing some hair behind her ear.

J'me let out a small chuckle as he slowly got back to his feet. "I didn't know… I had that in me." He kept trying to catch his breath even while standing. "But thanks. I wouldn't have… been able to do that… if it wasn't for y'all."

Charles couldn't help but let out a laugh loud of everyone to hear. He sat up, getting to his feet with ease despite his injuries. "You really thought that was enough to beat me? The only time you'll ever be able to beat me is in your dreams." He smirked, walking forward as everyone else watched in fear. Once he was in front of J'me, he grabbed the kunai that was on the ground and held out his free hand. "What was the one move you used? Oh yeah, Gale Palm bitch."

WOOSH

Another powerful blast of wind came from Charles's hand, pushing J'me backwards and into a boulder.

The only thing J'me could do was scream out in agony. Everything hurt. He didn't feel like moving at this point, just wanting to accept his defeat. He would, but a promise was made that he wasn't intending on breaking.

Slipping in and out of consciousness as he tried getting up. "Shit… is this really where everything comes to an end…"

Charles slowly started approaching J'me with the kunai in hand. If everyone wanted to believe he was a villain then so be it. He would show these people that he was one.

Ryan's body moved on it's own, jumping in front of his friend on the ground while Mari went to check on him. "If you come closer then you'll have to face me." The boy was serious, he wasn't going to sit around and watch his friend be injured.

Charles stopped where he was at, giving off a smirk towards the person in front of him. "Is that so? If we fight you'll end up just like J'me, completely fucked."

“Even if that’s the case as long as I take you down with me i’ll be fine.” Ryan raised his hands up, getting into a defensive stance.

“You truly think you’ll be able to take me down? If J’me wasn’t able to finish me off, what makes you think you can do it?" Charles questioned, gripping the stolen kunai tighter.

"No one...said I...was done with you...Charles." J'me was on his feet with the help of Mari. He slowly made his way to Ryan, leaning on his friends shoulder once next to him. "I'll be the way to take you down...and that's on my soul."

Ryan looked at his injured friend, shaking his head. "You can't go on like this, you'll kill yourself if you try to fight again. Let me take this over, I'm the only one who can do this."

"No, I'm the one doing this. I'll be fine-" His sentence was interrupted by him coughing up a little bit of blood. He stared at the red liquid for a couple seconds before speaking again. "Trust me on this Ryan."

Ryan was about to respond when he heard an all too familiar voice.

"J'ME!" Mei came running from behind the boulder she was watching at. She couldn't stand someone she cared about putting themselves through so many injuries like he did. "Please stop doing this to yourself J'me. Just let Ryan and one of my-" She stopped talking for some reason, seeming to be cut off.

J'me looked at Mei only to see a crimson liquid splash onto him. The color drained from the boys' face as he watched his girlfriend starting to fall to the floor. He immediately pushed off Ryan, somehow barely managing to catch Mei before she hit the ground. The boy slowly settled Mei on to the ground, applying pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding.

As Mei fell to the floor, Charles walked a bit closer to the group. The stolen Kunai he had, stained in red. "What's the problem? Is your mechanic bitch dying?" He smirked, knowing that she was. But, J'me should consider himself lucky since he struck at the stomach instead of the kidney.

Before J'me could speak again, Mei had some words to say herself. "J'me listen to me, I'll be okay." She smiled before slowly digging into her pockets and pulling out a bracelet. "Besides, I just came here to give you this. I thought it would be of use to you in battle. If you press this button it makes a gauntlet around the arm it's on. And if you press it again it turns into a shield." Mei placed the bracelet inside his hand, "Now, go win J'me. I believe in you."

J'me slowly got to his feet, putting on the bracelet Mei gave him. He kept looking at her as he spoke out loud, "Some people in this world truly disgust me."

It was quiet for a couple seconds before J'me spoke up again. "Ryan, take Mei to the hospital. While you're doing that I'll take down Charles."

Ryan did as his friend said, he knew better than to question him while J'me was pissed like this. He picked up Mei with care, making sure the stab wound didn't get worse before applying pressure to it and dashing off at incredible speeds to the nearest hospital.

J'me pulled out his extra kunai and handed it to Mari, "I refuse to use a weapon that was used to hurt someone I care about. That's yours for the time being, take care of it." With that he turned back around, not caring about the pain he was in.

Charles just smirked, it wasn't like J'me could actually do some damage to him with the condition he was in. "Without that weapon you're screwed, just give up." It was fun messing around with J'me and for once, Charles liked the idea of being a villain.

J'me stayed quiet as he let out a breath of air. Every movement, every step he took made him wince in pain. But there were reasons he kept moving, enduring every hit. "You're forgetting one thing jackass."

"Oh? And what's that? Is it that you can't win? Because I already know that." Charles held the

kunai up ready to strike as soon as J'me moved.

"No-" What seemed to be a blinding blue bolt of lightning flashed where J'me once was, followed by the thunderous crack and boom it was infamous for. In the instant the bolt came down the boy disappeared, reappearing in front of his enemy. "You forgot I can teleport dipshit!" Not wasting any time, J'me kicked Charles across the face with everything he could.

If Charles had to give J'me props for one thing, it would be the element of surprise. He did not expect for J'me to pull something like that. After all this time why was he still fighting? It made no sense to him at all. All these thoughts flew through his head as he staggered back from the kick. He held the part that was hit and just stared for a second, "I guess I underestimated you. That won't happen again."

"Shut up. You don't get to speak anymore bitch." J'me was surprisingly calm, he held out his uninjured hand and muttered a single word, "Chidori." A ball of uncontrollable lightning formed on his hand, the sound of a thousand birds coming from it. This jutsu alone had enough power to tear through someone with ease, but there was one problem. With how it was made, the lightning spiking all around him, it made everything a blur.

J'me didn't want to keep wasting time, running what seemed to be forward, the boy launched to the blurry Charles. 'Let this hit please!'

Charles chuckled as he watched J'me run forward, side stepping out the way and grabbing his opponents' wrist. "Come on? Is this really all you have? Pathetic." Kneeing the boy in the stomach, Charles had no remorse for J'me anymore.

J'me slowly fell down to the floor, holding his abdomen as he winced in pain. Was this it? Ryan had taken Mei to the hospital and Mari's quirk was made for defense only. The word 'pathetic' raced through his mind as he laid against the ground.

Charles rolled J'me over with his foot and kicked him in the side over and over. "Really? You're a so-called hero? That's pathetic, you're weak and should die just like Kairo."

J'me lowered his arms, letting himself get kicked after hearing his late friends' name. Maybe he was pathetic, after all he did let his friend die.

Ryan finally showed back up after dropping Mei off at the hospital. The first thing he saw was Mari holding one of J'me's kunai, her hands close to her chest as she had a horrified experission on her face. He slowly turned to face the action and he saw something he would never forget. Charles stomping on J'me. Ryan ran forward, knocking Charles off J'me and on to the ground.

He got on top of the enemy and opened a can of whoop ass on Charles with no sign of stopping.

Mari snapped out of her horrified state and ran over towards Ryan, pulling him off of Charles. "We were told to bring him in, not kill him Ryan. It's not worth going to jail for this, just go get the quirk cancelling cuffs and put them on him."

Ryan would be dragged off of Charles, slightly breathing heavy. All he did was nod and did what Mari said. He grabbed the cuffs from J'me's bag and put them on Charles, "It's over. You won't ever hurt anyone again." Ryan and Mari went over to check on J'me, leaving their enemy unattended.

J'me slowly tried his best to sit up, holding his ribs and wincing from the pain. "Don't worry about me, focus on Charles. I'll be fine, I just need a minute."

The sound of metal screeching interrupted them from checking on their friend. J'me was the first one to see what happened, his face went white from what he saw.

"Did you really think these cuffs would stop me?" There stood Charles with broken cuffs. He then shattered them off his wrists. "I'm on a completely different level than you thought Ryan. I am a god in this world, you will never beat me."

Ryan's face went blank as he turned around, the killing intent in his eyes now showing. “How would you feel if I burned you alive then?”

Mari knew it was pointless to stop Ryan again. She kneeled down beside J'me, making him lay back down and placing her hands over his chest. From there a green glow was emitted from the immortals hands, the glow seemed to act as if it was healing the boy.

"If I learned anything from my brother before he died, it's that real heroes never die!" A few seconds passed before the glow seemingly faded away. "I gave you my immortality for only a small bit of time, I believe you and Ryan can do this. Take down that monster before it's too late!"

J’me simply nodded at Mari, getting up on his feet and walking over towards his friend. “A god? Just because we were going easy on you does not make you a god. We were told to bring you in, but now I feel like killing you. Ryan, let’s end this.”

“I am a god, I’ve been going easy on the two of y’all as well.” Charles smirked before snapping his fingers, that same green glow now appearing on him as well. “You see, my quirk is basically One for All but better. I’m able to steal quirks without touching the user, I just have to see it in action. I can also upgrade them, but the only problem is the quirk I take remains in the user's body.”

Ryan’s murderous intent only seemed to grow stronger as heat began to flow around his body. “What the hell kind of ‘god’ kills others for fun?” Ryan’s tone shifted into a deeper one as bones sprouted all around his body, deep purple flames began to flick up off of him, eventually exploding out in one big puff. However, as the flames calmed a little, Ryan could be seen within them and his reaper form was in full affect. “J’me, whenever you’re ready…” Ryan’s voice was raspy and aged, yet the sound of pure annoyance was gently laced in his tone. After all, his quirk made him just like a God of Death, so Charles claiming to be one seemed to really set him off after everything he’s done.

J’me just chuckled as vicious winds surrounded him, making the boy levitate in the air. He took on a divine stance as he floated in the air because of the wind. “To think we once trusted you. Burn in the depths of hell bitch, someone like you deserves a death sentence and luckily for you we’re gonna grant you that.” His voice was filled with anger and why shouldn’t be? The person in front of him killed his best friend and injured someone he loved, not to mention claiming to be a god. “It’s time we end this Ryan.” He held up his hand and the vicious winds shot forward at the enemy.

At the same time Ryan held his hand and the purple flames shot forward, combining with the wind and creating a huge firestorm. “Blazing Inferno…” The two said in unison.

The firestorm engulfed Charles and he just stood there, letting it happen with a smirk on his face. There was a reason he let himself get injured.

J’me turned around and started walking away, “Are you coming or not Ryan?” He waved to Mari to grab his bag.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here before anyone sees us.” Ryan turned around and walked with J’me, the flames shining a bright purple as it ‘burned’ Charles.

Once Mari grabbed J’me’s bag, he teleported the three of them back to U.A.

After a couple minutes the firestorm calmed down and Charles walked out grinning and with no injuries. “They should have believed me when I said I could take quirks after seeing them in action. It is a shame they couldn’t stay for long though.” With that Charles left the scene before heroes showed up.

After being teleported J’me, Ryan, and Mari popped in the workshop that was inside of U.A.

J’me grabbed his bag from Mari, “Don’t ask me why I have a seal in there. That story can be told another day. For now though, let’s go to USJ and hope we aren’t late. Oh, and let me remove those seals since we’re done.” He placed his hands on Ryan and Mari’s shoulder, closing his eyes for a couple of seconds. When he opened his eyes the seals were gone and he dropped his hands back to his side.

“Okay, if we’re done can you answer my questions from earlier? What did you mean that I’m only here because of the two of you? And who is Charles?” Mari wanted to get to the bottom of some things for her sake.

Ryan looked away since he didn’t feel like explaining and J’me let out a small sigh and scratched the back of his neck.

“So, as you know me and Ryan aren’t from this universe. We were transferred here for some reason we don’t know yet. Anyway, in our world this universe is a show called ‘My Hero Academia’. And in that show you aren’t in it, that was till we got here. Once we got here so did you and I don’t know why. As for your second question. Charles was our friend, I guess he was transferred here with us. I hope that cleared some things up.” J’me started walking towards the door since they had to get to USJ fast.

Ryan followed behind J’me, leaving Mari alone to her thoughts. “Hey, what are we doing after the USJ incident? We better hope Charles isn’t dead or else we’ll be kicked out of here.”

“I know, I’m not dumb dude. Besides, it’s safe to say he probably made it out alive somehow. We can worry about him another time. As long as we give Aizawa information about Charles, shit should be okay.” The two of them left and started heading to USJ.

Meanwhile Mari stayed back for a couple minutes questioning some stuff. If Charles was their friend, why did he kill Kairo? What universe was she in before they got here? Some things were cleared up while new questions started to form because of it. She let out a sigh and ran to catch up to J’me and Ryan.

[bellarke-angel]

“Don’t hurt her!”

Requested By Anonymous | So I was on Pinterest and found this photo with a prompt and was wondering if you could write a fic to go with it? The quote was"Don’t hurt her! Don’t you dare hurt her!“ After everything we’ve been through this was the first time I could actually see he cared about me. He didn’t just care about me. He loved me. The photo is of a guy strapped to a table type thing, neck craned to the side. He looks like he may cry… feel free to change anything you want to of course.

Clarke could hear her heartbeat thumping in her chest, she hadn’t planned on being here, strapped to this filthy, torn, centuries old hospital bed. Though she couldn’t say she wasn’t surprised, the grounders had been fighting back a lot recently, snatching people here and there, dragging hers and Bellamy’s people and locking them away, torturing them for all Clarke knew. Clarke wondered if that was what was about to happen to her and Bellamy. From all around her she could hear clanks and footsteps, sometimes coming towards her other times they were far off. She had no idea where Bellamy was, last time she saw him he’d reached for his gun, one half of him protecting her the other half ready to fight but it wasn’t enough against five grounders, they stood no chance. Before they could stop it, they’d been knocked out and Clarke had woken up in an old abandoned hospital that must’ve somehow survived the catalyst.

A yell broke out down the hall, the voice angry and familiar. Bellamy, Clarke thought, half in relief half in disappointment, she was hoping he’d got away. 

“Get off of me! Where is she? I’ll kill you, all of you!” Clarke was sure his voice boomed throughout the entire building, it was filled with so much anger that Clarke hadn’t even been sure he had held within him. He’d always been so sweet and gentle with her that his other moods, never really came to her mind. But when they ragged him through the double doors, Clarke knew this used to be an operating room, she used to have to observe in one when she was an apprentice. Bellamy’s voice faded when his eyes found her, he had three grounders all heavily dressed, struggling to keep him under control. “Clarke.”

They took advantage of the distraction and threw Bellamy’s body onto another hospital bed, but he was too late to fight back and Clarke had to watch as he thrashed against the restraints trying to break out but she knew it was impossible, the restraints were made to hold people down. They were trapped.

“What the hell is this, huh? Human dissection? Are you trying to prove a point? Let us go, now!” Bellamy continued to yell, Clarke made a silent prayer that someone, or something would pull them safely out of this situation, they couldn’t die. Not now. Who would take care of their people?

“Quiet!” One of the rough looking grounders yelled, his voice raised sounding louder than Bellamy but Bellamy seem unfazed, Clarke watched his struggle, she knew he wouldn’t give up not until they were dead. The grounder seemed to sense that too and before Clarke could even react she could feel a steel object pressed onto the skin of her neck. She stopped breathing for a second, a little shocked by the sudden movement from the grounder. The action stopped Bellamy too, Clarke couldn’t see but she could tell in the way he was talking that he was scared for her.

“W-what are you doing? Get away from her.” His voice wavered and it was quiet this time, no aggression, it sounded less like a demand and more like a plea. Clarke kept her breathing slow when she felt the sharp edge of whatever it was puncture her slightly. She winced as she felt the pain, she was starting to get used to a weapon being aimed at her, but it was rare that she had actually been injured by it.

The grounder obliged, stepping away from Clarke not caring about the trickle of blood that left her neck. Clarke tilted her head to look at Bellamy, his eyebrows furrowed in anger once more when he saw the blood seeping out of her neck but he held back his anger in dear she’d get hurt again.

“I’ll get us out of here, we’ll get you patched up and you’ll be good as new.” Bellamy tried to assure her but she had her doubts, these weren’t exactly people you could negotiate with. They saw Bellamy and Clarke as a threat and they’d easily take them out so that the threat was no more.

Clarke opened her mouth to respond but the grounder re-approached her, needle in hand and a surgery knife in the other, one she was guessing had been pressed against her neck. She gulped, her fear creeping up on her again, she had no idea what they were doing. Clarke glanced desperately at Bellamy and this time she saw something else not just anger, something else was driving him. The moment the needle pricked her skin, Bellamy’s restraint ripped, the sound jumping the couple of grounders in the room, the one about to operate on her among that. The needle was still inside her skin and the jump from the grounder had jostled it, making her let out a small whine of pain. Bellamy had returned to yelling.

“Don’t hurt her! Don’t you dare hurt her!” Clarke watched him as the two grounders rushed to his side, trying their best to hold him down but his focus was on Clarke and it powered him on, the restraint rubbing his arm but he carried on. Clarke watched him with watery eyes. It was then she noticed when else was drinking him on, it was love. They’d been through years of pain and upset together that it had been hard to notice the affection he had for her, how much he truly cared. But the love was there, right before her. Bellamy Blake loved her and right now he was fighting for not just himself but for her, to stop the pain she was feeling and that only made her want to fight too. Her legs hadn’t been restrained so she used that and moved her foot swiftly to kick the man in the groin, he groaned, the needle falling out of her arm, she cringed at the sharp pain but her action had caught the attention of the other grounders, one remained holding Bellamy down and the other coming towards her.

Bellamy knew he could take the one that had stayed and within seconds, he’d broken his second restraint slamming the grounder in the face, hitting him so hard he fell to the floor out cold. Bellamy moved quick, grabbing the other grounder that Clarke had injured and taking hold of his head and banging it against the floor, the hard hit either killing him or knocking him, Bellamy didn’t really care. He took the needle that had fallen on the floor and stuck it into the grounders neck, the grounder dropped to the floor seconds later and Bellamy’s heart clenched thinking that that could’ve been Clarke. Clarke watched as Bellamy stepped over to her, chest rising and falling fast from the amount of energy and effort he’d used to get them out of there. He groaned at the restraints around Clarke’s hand and glanced around for something sharp.

“We have to be quick,” He breathed, still trying to catch his breath. Clarke nodded quickly watching as Bellamy picked up the metal instrument and cutting through the restraints. Hauling Clarke gently to her feet, before he could even ask her if she was alright Clarke was on her tiptoes and she’d pressed a quick but longing kiss to his lips. He returned it gladly, but he knew why she cut it short, they had to leave before the other grounders come back.

“I love you too.” Clarke told him as he clasped her hand and they dashed around the corners, eyes scanning everywhere and every time they heard a grounder approach they’d duck into a hiding spot until it was clear. Bellamy paused to look down at her, his breath gradually returning to his lungs.

“I didn’t even say it.”

“You didn’t need too.” Clarke said softly, eyes full of love and could see his were too. He gave her hand a quick squeeze before they braced themselves and headed back out.

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

Revolution - Chapter One

“Derek,” Danny continued. “A lot of people are in the dark about what happened. Could you set the stage for us and walk us through what really happened in those precious few moments?”

“Well, first off, you have to understand that when you’re in the Games you only get one wish and it’s very costly,” Derek said calmly, his husky voice rolling through Stiles.

“It can cost your life?” Danny asked.

“It can cost more than your life,” Derek corrected.

“What do you mean?” Danny inquired, his brow furrowed with confusion. “What’s more than your life?”

“Well to murder innocent people it can cost everything that you are,” Derek explained. “So you hold onto that one wish and, that night, my one wish was to save Stiles. I should have just run off with him earlier, kept him away from everything and kept him safe.”

“But you didn’t. Why?”

You can also read it on AO3, here.

Stiles exhaled heavily as he rolled onto his side. He blinked his heavy eyes open, smiling as he met Derek’s loving gaze.

The older smiled softly, his gorgeous aventurine eyes sparkling in the warm glow of the morning light.

“Hi,” Stiles whispered.

“Hey,” Derek replied, a genuine smile lighting up his face.

The older boy reached forward and gently brushed the back of his fingers against Stiles’ mole-speckled cheek.

“You know this isn’t real, right?” Derek asked solemnly.

Stiles let out a sad sigh and nodded.

“I don’t want to wake up,” Stiles rasped.

“You have to,” Derek encouraged. “The others need you.”

“But I need you.”

Derek smiled and leant forward. He brought their lips together in a tender kiss.

Stiles sighed, melting into the familiar warmth of their kiss. He cupped Derek’s cheek, holding onto every last second of that kiss.

Derek slowly pulled away and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

From somewhere in the distance he could hear someone calling his name.

“I don’t want to wake up,” Stiles whimpered, tears welling in his eyes.

“Stiles, it’s okay.”

“No,” Stiles panicked. He pressed his forehead to Derek’s, trying to remember everything about that moment. He tried to memorise every detail of Derek: his hand face, his eyes, his hands, his touch, everything. “I don’t want to wake up.”

Derek gently caressed his cheek, bringing their lips together in a chaste kiss that lingered on Stiles’ lips.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Derek promised. “I love you.”

 Stiles drew in a deep breath and opened his eyes.

He looked around at the somewhat familiar surroundings of the carrier.

“Hey,” a soft voice whispered, looking down at the boy with loving brown eyes.

Stiles blinked heavily, trying to clear the haze that blurred her face.

“Melissa?” he rasped.

“Hey, sweetie,” she cooed. “How do you feel?”

“Scott sedated me,” Stiles growled.

“I’m sure he did it for a good reason,” Melissa replied.

“I attacked Peter,” the boy explained, taking a moment to stop his head from spinning.

“Did you get a hit in?” Melissa asked.

Stiles shook his head.

She seemed disappointed by his answer, muttering, “I would have let you hit him at least once.”

“That’s why I like you better,” Stiles said with a smirk.

Melissa smiled back at him. “Think you can stand?”

Stiles nodded, taking the hand she offered him and rising his feet. It took him a moment to steady himself, his head aching from the glaring lights and the world spinning around him.

He looked around himself, finally taking in the surroundings.

They had landed, the engines were quiet and the ground was steady. They were in some kind of hangar, enclosed by thick metal walls that were adorned by television screens.

People bustled about the hangar, rushing to carry away a seriously injured young man, while medical staff hesitantly approaching the Mute to check his wounds.

Stiles slowly stepped out of the air craft and turned to look at Melissa.

“We’re really in Thirteen, aren’t we?” Stiles said, amazed.

Melissa didn’t get a chance to reply, Stiles’ attention was drawn towards a familiar figure that approached them. The man had a familiar face: a strong jaw, dark eyes and short but thick brown hair, dashing good looks that his son had inherited.

“Stiles,” the man greeted with an obnoxious grin. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Stiles froze.

His blood boiled in his veins, his jaw tightening as he took a few steps forward.

Rafael’s grin widened as he said, “Welcome to District Thirteen.”

Stiles’ rage boiled over. He clenched his fist and slammed it into Rafe’s jaw, knocking him to the ground.

“Stiles!” Melissa squealed, but the boy didn’t react.

He pounced on Rafe and pinned the man to the ground, punching him over and over again. He heaved in rugged breaths as his rigid knuckles hit the man’s jaw hard enough that Rafe spewed blood across the hangar floor. He could feel his hands burn with pain, bruises were sure to appear later, but he didn’t care.

He let out a broken cry as strong arms pulled him back. He kicked and flailed about like a child throwing a tantrum, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Among the sound of his wailing, his incoherent obscenities and his violent sobs, he heard Melissa instruct Scott to carry Stiles downstairs.

Scott nodded and dragged Stiles into the elevator. He waited until the doors were closed before setting Stiles down on his feet.

Stiles sank to his knees and let out a heart-breaking scream. Hot tears streaked his cheeks as he thumped his fist against the floor of the elevator.

After a minute the boy began to settle.

“I’m sorry,” Scott whispered.

Stiles didn’t say anything. He drew in deep breaths and tried to compose himself as he dragged his hands down his face to clear away the tears.

“I tried to get them to go back for Derek, but he was the first one the Capitol pulled out of the arena,” Scott told him. “I’m sorry… I let you down.”

“You didn’t,” Stiles rasped, slowly rising to his feet. He looked at his friend, noticing how the dark depths of Scott’s eyes swirled with pain. Stiles stepped forward and rested a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You have never let me down.”

Scott tried to smile, but it failed him. He stepped forward and pulled Stiles into his arms.

Stiles buried is face in the curve of his friend’s neck. His tears soaked into the fabric of Scott’s grey jumpsuit.

“And sorry I sedated you,” Scott muttered.

Stiles couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You couldn’t even let me hit Peter once?” Stiles asked.

Scott smothered his laugh. “No, sorry.”

“How are you doing?” Stiles asked.

“What do you mean?” Scott inquired, frowning slightly with confusion.

“Your dad just came back from the dead,” Stiles pointed out.

Scott smiled weakly. “He stop being my dad a long time ago.”

Scott was quiet for a moment.

“He left,” Scott explained. “The mine collapsed and he climbed down the tunnels until he could dig his way out and then he left. He made us think he was dead all this time.”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispered.

“It doesn’t matter. Mum, you, your dad, Chris and Isaac, you are my family. And we’re better off without him,” Scott replied.

The elevator hummed as it slowed to a halt.

The door rattled loudly as they stepped out onto the level.

A young woman met them at the elevator, her face full of worry.

“It’s Isaac,” she started.

“Again?” Scott said in disbelief.

She nodded.

Scott sighed and led the way towards the entrance hatch to a ventilation shaft.

“What’s going on?” Stiles asked.

“Isaac hasn’t had the best time adjusting to the change,” Scott explained. “He keeps hiding in the vents.”

Scott stopped before the vent entrance and called to the younger boy, “Isaac?”

“Go away!” Isaac cried.

“Isaac, come out of there, buddy,” Scott encouraged.

“No!” the boy shrieked. “Go away.”

“Isaac, you know it’s dangerous in there. Come on.”

“No!”

“For crying out loud,” Stiles muttered. He stepped forward and hoisted himself into the vent. He crawled down through the confined space until he found the young boy huddled in the darkness.

“Hey, buddy,” Stiles whispered.

“Stiles?” Isaac muttered.

“What are you doing in here?” Stiles asked.

“It’s quiet,” Isaac whispered. “I like it when it’s quiet.”

“So do I,” Stiles agreed. “But it’s dangerous in here and the last thing I want is for you to get hurt. So why don’t we go back to our room and sit there?”

“Okay,” Isaac agreed.

Stiles led the way out of the vent, the thick aluminium plating letting out an echoing boom as it buckled beneath their weight. Stiles climbed out onto the solid concrete platform of that level and reached back for Isaac. He helped the boy climb out of the vent and held him close as Scott led them back to their room.

Stiles hadn’t been cleared from the medical bay yet, but his priority was Isaac.

He guided the boy into the dull quarters.

The thick metal plating of the walls were a stark white, the confined space was smaller than their old bedroom in District Twelve. In the room sat two bunk beds with thick metal frames, military grade and regulated. Thin mattresses, rough sheets and blankets that looked starchy and brown, like hessian bags, were fitted into the frames. Beside the door was a wardrobe fitted into the small alcove, holding only a few dull grey jumpsuits and matching black boots. Scott had managed to grab his jacket and Isaac’s and kept them hidden in the back of the wardrobe.

Stiles glanced over his shoulder at Scott, his face twisted into an expression of distaste.

Scott nodded.

Isaac sat down on the lower bunk and looked up at Stiles.

“This is my bunk,” Isaac explained, patting at his mattress and waiting for Stiles to sit next to him before continuing, “Scott sleeps up there unless I have a nightmare, then he sleeps with me. And there’s a bunk free for you to move in with us.”

“Mum has to clear him from the hospital first,” Scott said softly, sitting down across from them.

“Speaking of which, who else made it out?” Stiles asked. “I was in the carrier with the Mute but I didn’t see anyone else.”

“We got Corey out,” Scott told him. “He was paralysed and was rushed straight to the infirmary in a critical condition.”

“Marin?” Stiles asked, his voice full of hope and fear.

Scott looked down at his feet and shook his head. “She didn’t make it.”

There was a thundering crash outside, followed by pained cries and the stampede of heavy leather boots.

“Isaac, stay here,” Stiles instructed as he rose from the bed, listening to the chaos of noise as he crept towards the door.

Scott followed him, stepping out into the hallway and looking up at the platforms above them.

“That’s coming from the medical bay,” Scott announced.

“Come on,” Stiles encouraged, patting Scott’s shoulder as he sprinted towards the flight of stairs. They pounced up the steps and ran towards the infirmary.

A crowd was gathered in the room, watching on like it was some kind of amusing spectacle.

“Get back!” a familiar voice howled.

“Corey,” Stiles called. He pushed forward, elbowing his way through the crowd.

When he reached the front he caught sight of the boy. His dark chocolate eyes were wide with fear as they darted back and forth across the faces in the crowd. His hands were trembling violently while he brandished the gleaming silver scalpel like a dagger.

“Corey,” Melissa called, her voice soft and calming as she stepped forward slightly so that he could see her. “Put down the knife, sweetie. We’re here to help you.”

“I don’t know you,” Corey argued, pointing the knife at her.

“But you do know me,” Stiles said, stepping forward.

Corey spun around, glaring at Stiles as he pointed the blade at the boy.

“Stiles, stay back,” Melissa instructed.

“It’s okay,” Stiles assured her.

Corey’s hands shook but his grip didn’t weaken on the blade.

“I don’t want to fight you, Corey,” Stiles said calmly. “But I will if I have to.”

“Where are we?” Corey asked.

“District Thirteen,” Stiles answered, stepping aside slightly as he reached for an IV stand. He carefully pulled it free of its base and slid the hooks off of the top, leaving only the pole. He stepped back into the centre of the room.

Corey looked confused. “How did we get here?”

“Corey,” Melissa whispered, stepping forward. “We can explain everything, but you need to stay calm.”

Corey kept the scalpel focused on Stiles whilst his glare darted between the boy and Melissa. His shoulders heaved up and down with heavy breaths.

Melissa took another step forward, her hands raised in surrender.

“Why don’t you put the scalpel down and we’ll have a proper talk, okay?” she bargained.

“How do I know I can trust you?” Corey asked.

“Because I do,” Stiles answered for her. “She’s family.”

Melissa took another step forward.

Corey lunged forward.

Melissa gasped as the blade of the scalpel tore through the palm of her hand

Stiles leapt into action. He slammed the pole against Corey’s wrist, making the boy cry out in pain and drop the blade.

Stiles span his spear around, smacking the side of the boy’s face with the side of his pole, stunning him just long enough for Stiles to spin the pole around again and knock Corey’s feet out from beneath him.

Corey fell to the ground, his frail limbs flailing about as he scrambled to his feet.

Stiles dropped the pole and sprinted forward. He hooked his arm beneath Corey’s and jerked it back. He grabbed the front of Corey’s shirt and hurled him across the room.

Corey hit the wall with a solid thud, falling to the ground with a pained whimper.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking across the room to where Stiles stood, glaring down at him.

“Melissa?” Stiles called, glancing over his shoulder for a second.

Scott was by her side, wrapping a bandage around the palm of her hand.

“I’m okay,” she said softly. “It’s just a small cut.”

Stiles looked back down at Corey.

“Show’s over,” he shouted at the gathering crowd. “Get back to work.”

One by one the people began to leave, the crowd dissipating as Stiles stepped over to Corey’s side.

“If I help you up, you have to promise to stay calm and let us explain everything. Deal?” Stiles asked.

Corey nodded.

Stiles stretched his arm out, offering his hand to the boy. Corey reached up and let Stiles help him to his feet. He walked the boy over to his bed and sat down with him, offering him a glass of water.

Corey glanced up at Melissa.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped.

“It’s okay,” Melissa assured him. “Can I look at your arm?”

Corey frowned in confusion. He opened his mouth to ask her what she meant, but when he glanced down at his arm his words failed him. His thoughts were washed away as his eyes caught sight of the thick bandage wrapped around his forearm. Swirls of brown and red seeped through the cotton dressing. The smell of iron and copper burnt at his nostrils as he panicked.

He was still confused and panicked but willingly surrendered his arm to Melissa.

“I’s okay,” Stiles assured him.

“The lightning fried your tracking device,” Scott explained, standing by Melissa and ready to act if Corey snapped again. “I didn’t want to risk the chip causing any damage so I had to cut it out once we got you out of the arena.”

“Marin did the same to me, only with less precision and more pain,” Stiles told him.

Corey still looked panicked.

“This is Scott,” Stiles introduced. “My best friend and our saviour. He’s one of the four people that got us out of that arena. And you have nothing to worry about,” he assured the younger boy. “Scott knows what he’s doing. Melissa taught him everything.”

Corey nodded, still stunned.

“So, we’re really in Thirteen?” Corey croaked.

Stiles nodded.

“Long story short: the surface was bombed but the bunkers beneath were safe. Everyone moved below ground and that’s how they survived,” Scott explained.

“But aren’t you from Twelve?” Corey asked.

“Yeah, we are,” Scott confirmed. “But Twelve was bombed. We had to run and ended up here.”

Corey bowed his head and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Scott offered him a kind smile.

Corey looked at Stiles. “Who else made it out?”

“You, me and the Mute,” Stiles answered.

“What about Mason?” Corey asked, panicked. “What about Derek?”

“They’re alive,” Stiles assured him. He felt his gut churn as he decided to relay the whole truth. “They’re in the Capitol.”

“We tried to get them out,” Scott muttered. “But the Capitol got to them before we could.”

“We have to get them back,” Corey whimpered.

“Corey, look at me,” Stiles instructed.

The boy turned his head, his dark eyes full of fear and worry as he met Stiles’ gaze. He quickly looked away again, bowing his head.

“I wanted to go back for Derek,” Corey mumbled, fidgeting nervously as he sat on the edge of the hospital bed. “He chased after the Desert Wolf and tried to keep her away from you… I wanted to go after him, but then the lightning hit and I couldn’t move.”

“Corey,” Stiles whispered. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” the boy argued quietly, painful tears welling in his eyes. “Because now they have Derek. And they have Mason too. They’re… they’re in the Capitol… they both are. I wish he was dead. I wish they were both dead and we were too.”

Stiles opened his mouth to argue, hot tears of rage brewing in his eyes, but he couldn’t.

Corey had a point: if they were dead, they’d be safe.

“That doesn’t matter now. They’re alive,” Stiles repeated. “The Capitol can’t kill them; they won’t risk them becoming martyrs and encouraging the rebellion.”

Stiles glanced down at his hand, his eyes focused on the gleaming silver band that was coiled around his finger. It shone brilliantly as it caught the light.

His voice was quiet but firm as he whispered, “We’re going to get them back.”