1268. The Forced Separation/Reunion Meme
Your characters have been forced apart -- be it by destiny, circumstance, or death. The only thing that's certain? It wasn't voluntary. Now, thanks to chance, luck, or fate, you meet again.
1. Tag with your character. Include name/series/preferences in subject line.
2. Roll RNG to determine the duration/cause of the separation.
3. Play out the ( Read more... )
Now he was somewhere in the Outlands and Sam couldn’t find him. Every day he’d work himself to exhaustion, capturing agents of the chimera Azazel and questioning them. After the second month, Sam started savaging the agents. They had Stiles. They had his mate. Azazel’s attempt to break Sam had very nearly succeeded.
He was an Alpha and he would not be denied.
The attack came swiftly, a swarm of wolves rising up out of the shadows with no warning until they were on the camp. Then it was shouting, snarling, and above it all, the howls of wolves calling for blood. A mate was taken, and tonight a mate would be restored or they would all die trying. Dean, Castiel, Derek, even Scott had joined the raiding party once they learned where Stiles was kept. In a rare show of deference, the Alphas let Sam lead the raid. It was his mate that had been stolen, he’d been the one to suffer while they all searched.
He would be the one to get him back and tear Azazel apart with his bare hands.]
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Stiles covers his ears and curls into the corner. He's going crazy now too, that's it. They'd finally broken him mentally...]
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It probably meant they were also walking into a trap, but he had two other Alphas at his side, a score of Betas and more experience in the field than a ragtag group of Chimera that lived to harass convoys and do little else. They weren’t as skilled in battle and most of them either fled or fell beneath claws and knives.
Normally an Alpha forced their wolf under control in battle, careful not to fall into a bloodlust and kill everything in sight. Sam was hovering dangerously on that edge. Azazel had done nothing but try and break him since he was a child. He hadn’t succeeded, but he’d also never told Sam why. Why he wanted him broken. Sheer malice? To see if he could do it? He doesn’t even flinch when a fuel tank goes up in a fireball.
Stiles.
Azazel.
He had no other goal than to find one, and rip apart the other. The massive Alpha tore through the ranks until he was confronted by a very familiar pair of yellow eyes.]
Heya Sammy. Miss me?
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But then something explodes on the other side of camp. None of the structures at the camp were particularly sound, and half of the roof came tumbling down, suddenly. Stiles coughs violently, wincing as wood rained down on his head, knocked him to the floor. But he wasn't dead, at least, just more blood and bruises to add to the collection.
He slowly picks himself up, Lilith nowhere to be seen, buried under the debris. Stiles stands there for a minute...and then he runs.
Well, he says run.
It's more of an awkward, painful gallop, full of stumbling and tripping. He even falls flat on his face a few times but he just...he just...he doesn't even know what he's running towards, but anything has to be better than this.]
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Familiar ones.
The fight had been a hard one and Sam had the nearly fatal wounds to prove it. Slashes along his face, arms and legs were slowly healing, his body focusing on the more critical wounds to his torso and stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. He groans as something hits his legs full tilt and tips over him. All he can smell is blood and fire and the remnants of Azazel’s skin beneath his claws.
Azazel had fled. Fled before Sam could kill him, or even die trying. No. He wanted to continue his little game, promising the semiconscious werewolf that he’d pay special attention to his mate after this. Take care of Stiles for him. Sam couldn’t even throw himself against the chimera in his anger. He was weak enough he could barely move.
It takes all of his strength, all of his resolve to start to pull his legs up under him. Stiles. He’s here to find his mate. He’ll find him or he’ll die trying. His wounds are slowly knitting and if he’s careful, he might be able to move without tearing them open again and spilling his blood all over again.]
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He doesn't even recognize Sam in the dark, with the Alpha covered in so much blood and so many wounds. Sam starts to move, to stand up, and Stiles lets out a desperate, distressed cry, voice hoarse with disuse.]
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Three months. He'd been without him for three months. Sam clutches him to his chest, his voice thick with relief.]
Finally. I finally found you.
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S-Sam? [His name is a broken whisper. Stiles is afraid to actually believe he's saved, for fear it might be Azazel in disguise...he's done that. Trying to break Stiles down time and again, destroy him to destroy Sam even more.]
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I'm here. I've got you. [He chokes off a relieved sob.] I found you.
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You're also the most important person in my life.
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Stiles felt the blood seeping from Sam's wounds and made a quiet noise of worry, but couldn't bring himself to move, just loosened his hold a bit.] S-Sam...you-you're - I - I didn't th-think y-you...
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[He's wounded and bloody, but he'll carry Stiles back to the wolves. Swaying, Sam gets to his feet.] Can you walk? I have to.. get you.. nnh.. out of here. Have to keep you safe.
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[Stiles coughs amd tucks himself into Sam's side, trying to be mindful of the wolf's injuries though he wants nothing more than to be as close as possible to him, for the first time.] Please...heal...
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I never.. never gave up hope. Knew I'd find you..
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I-I... [Stiles mumbles, feeling a little guilty now.] ...I was starting to th-think you w-weren't coming...
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