#7656 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amatchinwater · 1 year

Text

Pairing: Steo

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Noah Stilinski, Brett Talbot, Tracy Stewart, Mason Hewitt, Josh Diaz, Hayden Romero, Corey Bryant

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of blood, mind games, hurt/comfort, feral behavior, implied sexual content

Words: 7656

Ao3 link Masterlist

The Soulmate Train

---

In the town of Beacon Hills, everyone knows the story of The Soulmate Train. A magical train that will take you to your soulmate in the middle of the night. Not every single person in the world gets to board and there doesn't seem to be any type of pattern to those that are chosen either. It's just known that the morning of your nineteenth birthday, you either get a ticket or you don't.

Simple as that.

For a vast majority of the people who board the train, they're never heard from again. At first glance, knowing this information would scare most people into not using their ticket. Kind of ominous to get on a mythical train and then disappear for good. There was once a rumor that it was taking people just to feed some supernatural creature. A theory quickly disproved when Lydia Martin hopped on the train only to arrive back in Beacon Hills at Jackson Whittemore's house. So clearly they're not being served for dinner, their soulmate just lives somewhere else.

On the days leading up to his birthday, Stiles wasn't sure how to feel. On one hand, he didn't want to leave his father all alone. But on the other hand, after everything he's gone through- Scott getting bit, the Nogitsune, the Deadpool, and all of the shit with the Dread Doctors and the confusion of Theo- maybe leaving wouldn't be such a bad thing after all. Maybe he'd even be lucky like Lydia and come right back here.

That's if Stiles gets a ticket in the first place.

Until the morning of his birthday that is and he's woken up by Scott bursting into his room shouting about something his asleep brain couldn't comprehend. He glares at the wolf from under his covers.

"Scott," his father sighs, clutching his mug of coffee, "I thought we talked about running through a cop's house screaming. How it's a good way to have a gun get pulled on you?"

"Sorry," the Alpha says offhandedly. "Stiles, you need to get up," Scott yanks the blankets off.

Stiles dramatically groans, sitting up in bed. That's as good as his best friend is going to get right now. If he had it his way, he’d be going right back to sleep. "Good morning to you too, Scotty," he grumbles.

"Happy birthday, kiddo," his father commiserates with a soft smile.

"Thanks, dad. But a good point. Why am I not allowed to sleep in on my birthday?" Stiles asks, stretching life back into his limbs.

"Because," the Alpha holds up an envelope, "you got a ticket for The Soulmate Train!"

Scott is much more excited about the development than he is. To be fair, if Stiles had a chance to wake up first, he'd probably be more enthusiastic.

"Let me see that," his father takes it from the wolf, "it could just be a birthday card."

"That's true, my Nona always sends me a card."

Scott deadpans, "and the mailman left it on your doorstep instead of your mailbox. Two hours before the truck even comes around. Yeah, sure."

"Good to see you're getting better at sarcasm, Scotty," Stiles scratches his head, waiting for his father's verdict.

"Holy shit," his dad gasps, pulling a silver ticket out of the envelope.

In a flash, Stiles is at the edge of his bed, snatching the item from his father along with the small note card. In bold letters on the shiny ticket reads: ADMIT ONE, Mieczysław "Stiles" Stilinski.

"Holy shit," he mimics his dad. "I got a ticket," Stiles mutters in disbelief. It's not that he didn't think he was worthy of a soulmate or anything like that. More so than cool, good things like this typically don't happen to him.

It's just surprising is all.

Scott shakes him out of his staring at the silver paper, asking, "what does the card say?"

"Right. Uh," Stiles' eyes flicker over the extra paper, reading its contents aloud.

One-way ticket ONLY!

NO REFUNDS, REDOS, OR RESCHEDULES!

You may refuse to board, should you wish, but you will not receive another ticket.

On the next moonless night, The Soulmate Express will pick you up outside your residence at 4:45 a.m. sharp.

DO NOT be late!

You are allowed one bag of essentials only.

Have your ticket ready for the conductor or you will be denied boarding.

We look forward to seeing you.

"The next moonless night?" Stiles repeats. "When the hell is that?"

"Tonight," Scott answers without missing a beat.

What the-

"Werewolf thing?" His father asks.

Fairly asked too. Stiles loves his best friend, but he was failing every class not that long ago. If he wasn’t so worried about Liam for a time, Stiles wouldn’t even know when the full moon is.

"I always know the phases of the moon ever since I became one," Scott agrees. "There was the smallest sliver last night, so tonight will be the closest to empty it can get."

He'd be lying if Stiles said that didn't make him incredibly anxious. He thought he'd have more than sixteen hours before the train arrived. Lydia had a whole week! Now Stiles is torn between going to sleep or not. Because if he's being picked up before five in the morning, Stiles is up far too early for that. But there's also the fact that it's coming for him tonight. These are the last sixteen hours he has to see his father and best friend.

Stiles doesn't want to lose that precious time sleeping.

"Well," his father cuts through his mental spiral, "looks like you get to meet your soulmate soon. That's exciting, right?"

He scoffs lightly, "not like you can prepare me for what's about to happen. You refused your ticket because you were madly in love with mom," Stiles reminds his dad.

"A decision I still stand by," Noah counters. "But you're not emotionally tied to anybody, son. And don't say us, we're only a phone call away and you know it. Besides," his father waves a dismissive hand, "you've got Melissa on my case about eating right too. I'll be fine."

"Your dad's right," Scott adds. The wolf gives him the best puppy dog grin, "you deserve to be happy after- well, it's a long list, but you know which I mean."

Yeah, Stiles knows what he means and he doesn’t want to think about it right now.

His dad joins them on the bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "you can always say no. We'll stand by whatever choice you make."

"We'll even see you off if you go," the Alpha smiles.

Stiles leans into their embrace, "Thanks guys."

"I love you, son," his dad kisses the side of his head before getting up. "Now, who wants French toast?"

Stiles and Scott can't clamber out of bed fast enough.

"Are you all packed?" His dad leans on the doorframe after they had pie.

He's never been a fan of cakes. So every year for his birthday, Stiles requests a pie instead. Melissa made it this year, raspberry peach. It was fucking amazing. He's going to have to remember that for a future time. A small token to remind Stiles where he came from. The people who cared about him before he had a soulmate.

Stiles puts the last hoodie- that has a small framed photo of him and his parents wrapped inside- in the one bag he's allowed to bring with him. "Yeah, I'm all set," he says, going through his mental list. "I think."

"Phone? Charger?" His father asks and Stiles nods. "Toothbrush and other toiletries?" Stiles nods again. "I see you're wearing your favorite hoodie already-" It's actually his dad's from the police academy, "-you have clothes in there too?"

The laugh that bubbles out of his chest is unavoidable. Just a naturally good feeling of his father taking care of him and making sure Stiles didn't panic pack a bunch of socks.

Again.

"Yes," he chuckles, "and yes, I have underwear too. I'll be okay."

"I'm proud of you, Stiles," his father's eyes fill with tears, growing bloodshot. "You made a decision for yourself for once without thinking about anyone else. Just been a long time since I've seen you do that."

Stiles snorts, "I literally worried about you and Scott the second I looked at the ticket."

His father drags him into a hug, "but you stopped and that's the point. You finally thought of yourself." His dad sniffles and Stiles squeezes tighter, his own emotions making themselves known. "Your mom would be proud of you too. Overjoyed that you have someone out there that's made for you. Let me look at you," he pulls back with a soft smile, "I don't care where you end up, you'll always have me."

"Just a phone call away, right?" Stiles' voice cracks.

"You're goddamn right." His dad ruffles his hair, "think you're going to be able to get some sleep at all?"

"No," Stiles scoffs lightly, "probably not."

His father nods in understanding, patting his shoulder before leaving.

"Come on, kiddo," his father gently shakes him awake. "It's four-thirty, you gotta go."

Despite the gentle nature and soft voice his dad used to get him up, Stiles jolts awake. He doesn't even remember falling asleep. Last he knew, he was playing a video game with Scott- who's now also passed out in bed beside him. They were talking and laughing. Having one last night together. It was nice.

Stiles is going to miss it.

"Okay," he grunts, sleep still thick in his vocal chords. "I'm up," Stiles blinks purposefully, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes so that can focus on what's right in front of him. He yawns, "thanks."

"There's a cup of coffee downstairs with your name on it," Noah smiles. "I'll grab your bag and get Scott moving."

Not as awake as he's like to be, Stiles simply nods in response. Sitting up and throwing his legs over the side of his bed to put on his shoes, Stiles' legs feel like lead. Thick, heavy things attached to his body that drag him out of his room and down the stairs. The scent of coffee hits Stiles' nostrils and he groans, finding Melissa in the kitchen with a mug of her own.

"Morning," she smiles brightly, filling an empty mug and passing it to him. He mutters his thanks, pointedly ignoring how scalding the liquid is, and nearly chugging it. Melissa asks, "are you excited?"

Honestly, Stiles thinks he might throw up. He doesn't have the slightest idea of what to expect. As soon as Lydia arrived back in Beacon Hills, her and Jackson left to go back to London. He'd only come back to celebrate her birthday just to find out they're soulmates. He didn't want to ruin their honeymoon phase. So as much as Stiles misses the banshee, he thought it best not to badger her with a million and one questions about her experience.

With that said, it wouldn't exactly be truthful to say that he isn't excited. Knowing that there's someone out there specially made for him. Someone who is built to love and tolerate him. That's what most people want in life.

"I think so," Stiles answers honestly, pouring another cup as his dad and Scott come down the steps.

He's never seen the Alpha be much of a morning person. Especially before the sun has even risen type of morning. Yet here Scott is, smiling brightly like they didn't sleep for only three hours at the most. "Dude," the wolf's eyes bulge looking at the stove, "you gotta go!"

"Shit." Stiles hastily puts his mug in the sink. His best friend is right, he's got three minutes. "Where's my ticket?" He asks, patting his pockets.

"Here," Melissa pulls the silver paper from her scrubs. "We figured you'd lose it, so I kept it safe for you."

"Thank you," Stiles breathes a sigh of relief, taking the ticket and pulling his pseudo-mother into a tight hug. Never once has Melissa tried to replace his mom. But the woman is the closest thing Stiles has had to one since his own passed away. He loves Melissa dearly.

"I'm happy for you, sweetheart," she pulls back with watery eyes. "Call us, please? Let us know you're safe."

Scott starts dragging him away before he can answer. "Come on," the wolf says, "you're going to miss it! We can say goodbye outside."

Ticket in hand and his belongings with his father, Stiles allows the wolf to pull him. When they get outside of his house, there's softly glowing blue train tracks in the street.

"Whoa," Stiles stares, jaw dropped. "That's crazy." Scott yanks him into a hug, nearly crushing him. The human doesn't even care about the supernatural strength being used. This could be the last time he ever sees the wolf. "I'm gonna miss you too, buddy," Stiles claps the Alpha’s back and a loud whistle blows.

"Alright, Scott," his father has to pry them apart, "let me say goodbye to my son."

The train gets louder the closer it approaches. It's engine rumbling the ground when he takes his bag.

"I want you to understand something," his father grips both of his shoulders, parental tone in full swing. "I don't care where you go or who your soulmate may be. If you don't feel safe, you call me. I'm still a sheriff, but I can make it look like an accident. You hear me?"

Stiles' eyes well up with tears, but he refuses to cry. "I love you too, dad," he says, knowing that's exactly what that speech meant.

The train squeals to a stop, a voice yelling, "all aboard the Soulmate Express! Have your ticket ready!"

The deep breath he takes does nothing to calm his nerves, but it's now or never. Stiles turns to face the massive, black train with glowing blue accents that match the track. Beautiful gold letters spell the name Soulmate Train on the side. Smoke billows from the front car and into the night sky, disappearing like it never disrupted the air in the first place.

Ticket in hand, Stiles approaches the small set of steps below the conductor. He's younger than expected. Around his age with light brown curls spilling from his hat. Taller than him too.

"Ticket, please?"

Adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, Stiles hands the man his ticket. The conductor punches three holes close together, making a triangle in the silver paper.

"My name is Isaac," he says, handing the ticket back. "I'm the conductor of this locomotive, here to ensure your journey is safe and easy. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

Isaac gives him a small bow, extending his arm for Stiles to climb aboard, "after you, Mr. Stilinski."

"Please, just Stiles," he says, climbing the three stairs up onto the train. He enters through the car's open door and when Isaac joins him, it closes on its own. Stiles can't decide if that's normal or foreboding; he's never been on a train before.

Either way, no turning back now.

"Your seat is right here," Isaac says when they're halfway through. "You may have the blinds open to wave goodbye, but once we get moving I must ask that you close them and that they remain closed."

"O-okay," Stiles says, sitting in the plush, red booth and placing his bag beside him. He looks out the window at his family, noticing the faint glow surrounding the glass. "Why can't I have the blinds open?"

"Do you mind?" Isaac points to the empty booth on the other side of his table. Stiles shakes his head no, gesturing for the conductor to join him. "We have but two rules on the Soulmate Express; that being one of them. Once we depart, I will explain the other to you." He checks his gold pocket watch, "just another minute. I'd say goodbye, Stiles."

He looks out the window again, waving goodbye just as the whistle blows for their departure. Melissa offers a blown kiss, holding onto Scott whose face is a bittersweet mixture of joy and sadness while waving. His father gives him an earnest smile, waving goodbye when the train begins to move. Not wanting to get in trouble or kicked off, Stiles adheres to the instructions and pulls the blinds down.

"Thank you," Isaac smiles, "I don't wish to scare you, but it is for your safety that the blinds remain closed for the duration of the trip. Of the few rules we have, it's the most important one."

"But why?" Stiles doesn't understand the importance of not looking out a window. It's his favorite part of taking an airplane.

The conductor clasps his hands on the tabletop, "what do you know about the train?"

"Just that it takes a select few to their soulmate."

"Correct, that is our base function," Isaac says and the train really starts moving. "I assume you know about the supernatural, yes?" Stiles nods. "Great. We run on most supernatural laws. Time moves differently when you're here though. A ride that feels like hours could only be a handful of human minutes. Traveling through worlds, time, space, and even different dimensions or universes over the course of a single trip."

Stiles’ jaw drops, “holy shit. That’s more of the supernatural than I’ve encountered,” he admits.

“It is for most people who board from earth,” the conductor explains. “Being best friends with a werewolf, you yourself have seen more than most would in their lifetime.”

“Okay, but why the blinds?”

“As I mentioned, we move incredibly fast but seemingly slow to those we pass,” Isaac states. His mouth purses, searching for something, “not everything we pass is kind. Or safe,” he tacks on. “If you open the blinds and make your presence known, I cannot stop whatever is out there from claiming you- or your soul- for themselves.”

“My soul?” He parrots back. This is not what he signed up for.

At all.

The conductor’s smile dims, “I’m sure you understand that you’re not the first person we’ve picked up. Just like I’m sure you’re also more than aware of the fact that not every supernatural creature is friendly either.”

Stiles scoffs, “yeah, I’m aware.” He’s seen more than a fair share of bad supernaturals. Hell, he used to be one. Or possessed by it at the very least.

“The rule is in place because most of the- let's call them dens for lack of a better term that we pass on the way is home to plenty of monsters that would love nothing more than to eat an unmated soul. Much like yourself,” Isaac informs him. “Others have become beasts because they didn’t abide by the no looking rule or were kicked off for upsetting my crew.”

This is a lot to swallow.

“Remind me not to get on their bad side.”

Isaac smiles again, “just be polite and don’t bring up the fact that you’re going to find the love of your life and you’ll be just fine.”

“But,” Stiles crosses his arms, cocking his head to the side, “isn’t that the whole reason I’m here?”

“Yes,” the conductor agrees, “but so were they once upon a time.”

“They didn’t-”

Isaac shakes his head, “we rejected our soulmates and now we’re destined to be on this train forever.”

“That’s kind of depressing,” Stiles comments. “I don’t mean to be rude, but that has to be incredibly lonely.” What could have possibly happened that someone refused their soulmate? Other than circumstances like his father. But his dad never boarded in the first place.

“We’re lonely, yes. But I quite enjoy watching others find the other half of themselves.” Isaac grins, “it’s why I can hear it all the time without going into a…state.”

He’s not so sure he wants an elaboration on that.

In fact, he doesn’t.

“So how do I avoid upsetting them?”

“I’ve found it’s best to talk about them,” the conductor says. “If you want, ask them about their life, their interests. Things like that.” Isaac regards him with an expression he can’t quite place, “I honestly think they just enjoy someone who’s willing to know them. Not everyone we pick up is kind. Or smart,” he winks.

Stiles hums. Part in acknowledgement and part in contemplation. He wants to know more, but this is already a lot more than he was prepared for. Monsters attracted to the light and what’s essentially a cursed crew. This isn’t just a simple ride; supernatural or not.

“Ask your questions, Stiles,” Isaac chuckles, “I can see them swimming in your eyes.”

“Are those the only rules?” Stiles figures that’s a good place to start. “Keep the blinds closed and don’t upset the crew?” Isaac nods in agreement. “Okay,” he says dumbly to fill the space while his gears turn. “Simple enough, I suppose. So, you’ve been on the train as a passenger, am I allowed to ask you what to expect from the trip? Other than vengeful creatures and monsters that would like to eat me and my soul?”

“I can tell you anything you want to know. Perhaps over a cup of tea or coffee?” Isaac offers.

“Coffee would be great. Tea would just put me to sleep and I’d like to reach my destination,” Stiles says. He’s also still fairly tired from what little sleep he got. Caffeine would be wonderful right now.

“I’ll go let them know,” the conductor gets up from his seat. He pauses with his fingers still on the table, “you should know. We’re about to pass through the Fog of Whispers. It’s unfortunately an unavoidable part of the journey.” Isaac warns him, “no matter what you hear, do not open the blinds under any circumstances. The voices you hear are meant to lure you, to scare you. Do your best to ignore them as they only last for a few minutes. Try to think of it like a book being read out loud to you. Not something you’re meant to look at, only hear. And please-”

“Leave the blinds closed,” Stiles finishes.

“I was going to say be stronger than your mind,” Isaac says. “But I’m glad you’re catching on so quickly. I’ll be right back.” He pauses, rapping his knuckles on the table, “I believe in you, Stiles.”

He watches the conductor head for the door. Except this time, it doesn’t open automatically. Isaac simply walks through it as though it’s not even there. Stiles’ eyes threaten to pop out of his skull. He sat in the booth. He took Stiles’ ticket! Is Isaac technically a ghost?

For lack of natural light, the ornate sconces provide enough that he’s not sitting in the dark. The candles inside them give the train car a warm and comforting glow despite him being the only person here. And everything he’s been told. He should have brought a book. With Isaac gone, he’s bored as hell.

“Stiles,” a gritty voice calls his name from far away. A voice that sends a violent chill down his spine. Churning bile in his stomach and raising the hair on the back of his neck. “I know you hear me, Stiles,” it says again. A gravelly tone Stiles never thought he’d hear again. “Look at me!”

The Nogitsune.

Its command is almost enough to make Stiles open the blinds on instinct. His hand reaches halfway and he pauses. No. He can’t do this. One, he wants to live. Two, Stiles would actually like to meet his soulmate. And three, as great company as Isaac is, he wants off this train eventually.

“You? Have a soulmate? Ha!” The Nogitsune growls, “you’re too broken to have a soulmate. I made sure of that. No one is going to want the used up vessel of mine. Don’t you know that? I ruined you,” it cackles cruelly.

“You’re not real,” Stiles repeats to himself. He balls his fists so tightly that the knuckles turn white, nails branding crescent moons into his palms.

“Not real? Not real?!” The Nogitsune sneers, voice twisting. Warping into another’s. “What about me, Sweetheart?” He growls the name. “Am I real?” No. No, no, no, no. “Or did I cease to exist after I got sent to hell because you couldn’t be a big boy and admit your feelings for me?”

“No,” Stiles chokes on the word, putting his forehead on the table and covering his ears. “You’re not there, Theo. This isn’t real. You’re gone,” he cries.

But it doesn’t make a difference.

The Whispers are in his head.

“Just like your feelings weren’t?” Theo barks a laugh, “or were you just too scared to admit that you fell for the bad guy?”

“I didn’t- I never-” Stiles rocks in his seat, powering through the urge to open the window and prove that the chimera isn’t really there. “Of course I fell for you,” his voice shakes, “it was inevitable.”

“Bullshit,” Theo spits, “you never loved me. You just let them kill me and did nothing! I bet you were happy when I died.”

Stiles sobs, “no. That’s not true, Theo. I told Scott it was a bad idea.”

“Liar!”

In truth, the minute Theo stepped out of the rain that first night, Stiles was gone. He never stood a chance. But then there was the inescapable feeling that something just wasn’t right. That Theo wasn’t actually Theo and it had nothing to do with him being a supernatural creature. That this wasn’t the same boy that shared his peanut butter cups after punching Jackson in the face for bullying him. But that also didn’t stop Stiles’ heart from screaming for Theo whenever he was around. That night on the hospital roof, his control slipped for the smallest of moments.

Stiles let Theo kiss him.

Again too when they watched over Josh’s body.

Then just when Stiles was ready to say fuck it and admit to- submit to what his heart truly wanted, the other shoe dropped. So much happened the night of the supermoon and it made Stiles clam up. To chastise himself for falling for the bad guy. But when Theo got his promised Alpha powers from the Dread Doctors and a pack of his own, Theo still went after Stiles. The sexy smirks and flirtatious remarks didn’t go away.

It got to a point where Stiles nearly forgot that they were supposed to be enemies. When he and Scott talked in the library, Stiles was able to convince Scott to leave without him under the guise of interrogating the chimera. Theo slammed Stiles against the nearest bookshelf once the True Alpha was out of ear shot. He didn’t even hesitate letting Theo kiss him breathless.

Everything would turn sour the moment Theo would ask him to join his pack. It slammed Stiles’ brain with so much logic that it hurt. Everything would come back into sharp focus once more. Stiles couldn’t get himself to utter that three letter word like his heart so badly wanted him to. The word poisoned his tongue more and more each time it wasn’t used.

Until Stiles found out that the chimera had attempted to get Deucalion in alliance with him. He’s seen firsthand the things he could do blind. It didn’t feel right to him that Theo was putting himself in danger without even knowing it. By the time Stiles made it to the tunnels to confess his feelings and beg to leave the Demon Wolf out of this, Theo was already in the hole.

No one even told him it was happening that night. Stiles thought he had one more chance to convince Scott not to let Kira do that. But when prompted with why they shouldn’t, Stiles didn’t have a good enough excuse. Because reminding the True Alpha that they don’t kill people didn’t work. And if anyone was going to hear it first about how much he felt about Theo, it was going to be the chimera himself.

Ironic in and of itself because when Stiles finally admitted it to Scott two months later, his best friend shocked him. Said that if he’d known, the wolf wouldn’t have done that. That given everything with Allison, they would’ve figured out how to work with Theo.

The one time things blew up because Stiles didn’t open his mouth.

He could’ve been happy.

“Stiles!”

Stiles jolts, realizing Isaac had been shaking him and calling his name. The Whispers are gone. No more Nogitsune. No more Theo. “Sorry,” he gasps a breath, hoping to trick his lungs into breathing properly. It half works and he hastily wipes the remaining tears away. “You weren’t kidding,” he gestures towards the window, “they really want you to open that.” His laugh doesn’t quite sound familiar, almost fake. Still a little too shaken up that humor isn’t ready to work just yet.

“But you didn’t,” Isaac notes, sitting back down. “If there’s a most likely portion of the trip that gets people to break, it’s the Fog of Whispers.”

“Oh, really? I wonder why,” Stiles scoffs sarcastically, looking away to blink away a few forming tears. “What the fuck what that, Isaac?”

“It’s a fog,” the conductor explains. “We can’t get it to filter out no matter how much we try. It comes in through the air vents and gets into your mind for a bit.”

The door on the opposite end of the car opens, a tall blonde man pushes a white cloth covered cart. Coffee and a small plate of snacks rest on top. He looks dull, almost lifeless in his features.

“Perfect timing, Brett,” Isaac waves him over.

Again, they’re the only ones here.

“Cream and sugar?” Brett asks, setting the plate and a small, delicate cup of coffee in front of him.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you,” he says politely.

The waiter’s brows rise, “you just drink it as is?”

Stiles raises a shoulder, “my dad’s a sheriff. I kind of grew accustomed to the taste since it’s all he drinks. How do you take it?” He asks, remembering they like when people care enough to talk about them. And he’s actually kind of curious.

Brett’s features visibly brighten. Quite literally as color spreads over his face, “I used to be one of those people who had a specific drink at Starbucks.”

“What was it?” Stiles asks. “Maybe if there’s a Starbucks near me, I can try it out.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Stiles takes his phone out, opening up a note. Handing his phone over, he says, “write it down for me.”

Brett does as told and hands the device over, “I know you can’t tell me what you think of it, but I hope you enjoy it.” He smiles, “it was very nice meeting you, Stiles,” he says before walking away.

“You’re good at this,” Isaac says, crossing his arms and grinning.

“Not to be pushy, but have any idea how much longer this is going to take?” He needs more than just cheese, crackers, and grapes.

“We should be-” the train jerks and creaks, “-yup, there it is,” Isaac quips.

“Did we just go off the tracks?” Stiles panics, reaching for the blinds only to stop himself. “Right,” he looks back at the conductor, “why do you not seem worried about that?”

“Perfectly normal.”

Stiles sighs, “of course it is. Why is it? This seems like an awful lot just to reach your soulmate?”

“I don’t make the interdimensional pathways, Stiles,” Isaac raises his hands, “I just navigate them. Besides, isn’t there supposed to be nothing that can get in the way of true love?”

“Fair point.” Stiles can’t really argue that. He may not love the person yet, but he’s meant to. “So what was that about?”

“Sea of Blood.”

“The Blood Sea,” Stiles corrects with a snort.

Isaac shakes his head, “Sea of Blood.” Well, that’s just fantastic, isn’t it? “Pretty soon you’ll hear what sounds like whales.”

“It’s not whales, is it?” Stiles asks, knowing it’s not.

The conductor shakes his head again, “sirens. The sea ran red with the blood of their victims centuries ago. I don’t think it’s even water anymore.”

“Yikes,” Stiles shivers the thought away. Who needs to look out the window when his imagination paints a vivid enough picture? He has this feeling that they’re not your average sirens. The ones that look like devilish mermaids.

Then the call begins. A hauntingly beautiful sound full of enough melancholy to appear alluring. A plea for someone to come help them. To save them from an eternity of loneliness.

If only it didn’t lead to his death.

“It’s sort of beautiful,” Stiles remarks in wonder. It’s almost like the sound you’d expect to hear on a noise machine to help you sleep. “I see why people confuse them with whales. It’s rather relaxing.”

“Until they rip your spine out,” Isaac retorts. “I’ve seen what they’re capable of. Trust me when I say the only thing beautiful about them is their singing voice. When a siren attacks, it’s the loudest screech you’ll ever hear. High enough to make one’s ears bleed.”

“Peachy, aren’t they?” Stiles takes another sip of his coffee before putting the cup down. “I know you said you don’t make the pathways, but if they’re so dangerous, why not take another route?” Surely there’s less bloodshed elsewhere.

Isaac sips his tea, “would you believe me if I told you that not only is this the fastest route, it’s also the safest?” He eyes the conductor warily. “The Sea of Blood is the best way to get to the dimensional hop. Once there, we’re practically spat out at your destination. But no one can just start here. There’s certain paths. The one we used to take in my early days,” Isaac grimaces, “consider yourself lucky that the beginning was only monsters attracted to light.”

“That bad?” Stiles asks, finishing his drink.

“There used to be creatures that relied only on sound. You breathe too loud in their realm and they’d rip the window clean off,” Isaac explains. “Before getting to the Sea of Blood, we’d have to go under raging waters infested with Krakens and anglerfish the size of planes. It was chaos to deal with all of that on top of the monsters and Whispers.”

“So what changed?”

The conductor fiddles with the rim of his teacup, “one day I noticed an opening and it took the train straight to the Whispers and then here.” Isaac nods his head to the side, “it cut the trip and kept more people alive. I still lose people, but significantly less than I used to. Now it’s mostly from their lack of listening rather than taking too deep of a breath.”

Stiles nods, it makes sense. A crazy concept nonetheless.

The train jerks around again, wheels squealing in their efforts.

“Are you ready?” Isaac beams, “we’re almost at the jump. Have you been on a plane before?”

“Quite a few times.”

“Good,” the conductor nods, “so you’re familiar with the feeling of takeoff and gaining altitude. How your ears will pop from the pressure?” Stiles nods his agreement. “That’s exactly what the dimensional jump feels like. After that, we’ll be right outside your soulmate’s house.”

Anxiety pools in his stomach along with anticipation. Stiles gives another nod as the train speeds up, “that’s great.”

“It’s perfectly normal to be nervous,” Isaac assures him, patting Stiles’ clenched fist. “You can always change your mind when we get there. Soulmates aren’t always what you expect.” The cabin pressure rises and Stiles feels the air bubble forming. “You’ll be a part of my crew should you refuse after the journey, but at least we like each other. It’s your choice, don’t forget that.”

The pressure in his skull reaches a breaking point and Stiles’ ears pop violently. For a startlingly long moment, he worries he might throw up. Nausea crashing into him in endless waves of sour sickness. Leaving him disoriented. Almost like Stiles isn’t in his own body, though he can feel all it.

Without warning, the train screeches to halt.

“We’re here,” Isaac announces, positively giddy, getting up from his side of the booth.

Shaking the jitters from his limbs, Stiles grabs his bag, joining the conductor by the exit. “Let’s do this,” he breathes out, wishing he wasn’t so goddamn anxious.

Just like when he boarded, Isaac bows, “after you,” gesturing towards the cabin’s now open door.

It takes all of three seconds after getting on the top step to realize where he is. He’s back home. Well, not his home, but Beacon Hills. The house itself is also painstakingly familiar, it’s on the tip of his tongue. He turns to face the conductor, “who-”

“Stiles,” Isaac smiles, stepping off the train to help him down. “Welcome to the Raeken residence.”

Raeken.

That’s impossible.

“But Theo’s-”

Isaac interrupts him again, “yes, we’re back in Beacon Hills, that’s true. But not your Beacon Hills. Rather one from a timeline where you didn’t survive Donovan and Theo never went to hell.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“Stiles,” Isaac grins, “I know all of my passengers' destinations. I’m just not allowed to tell you until you arrive. You almost got me though when you cried to his Whisper,” the conductor says. “Was he an Alpha in your universe?”

“Yeah,” Stiles’ eyes narrow, “is he not here?”

“No, he is,” Isaac confirms. “This is where you can choose to refuse. When this universe’s Stiles died, it nearly broke this Theo. He’s been feral ever since,” the conductor warns, “he snaps at anyone that isn’t his pack. Killed the Dread Doctors for creating Donovan in the first place and then Donovan too. He was made aware that his soulmate was coming, just not who. I don’t believe he’ll attack you, definitely not once he smells you, but…”

Theo went feral over losing him? That’s a lot to take in considering now nearly as much happened with the other version of him. Donovan attacking him was fairly early in the Dread Doctor bullshit. Unless this universe’s Stiles trusted Theo from the beginning. That the other him wasn’t afraid to take what he wanted, consequences be damned.

“But?” Stiles pushes.

“He’s still feral,” Isaac says.

To be quite frank, Stiles couldn’t care less. This is viable proof that no matter the situation or fucking universe, Theo always wants him. His Theo can never be brought back. Just like this Theo’s Stiles is gone forever too. They can both get the impossible and heal together. They can have happiness.

“I can handle a feral Alpha,” Stiles scoffs, adjusting the strap on his shoulder. A loud roar splits the quiet night air and the front door is flung open. Theo, shifted and red eyed, stalks towards them, freezing when he catches sight of Stiles. “Theo,” he whispers, eyes growing cloudy.

“Theo!” Josh runs out the front door, “you can’t just- is that?” The raiju’s eyes grow comically wide, “guys, get out here!”

The Alpha snarls, running towards them.

“Are you accepting your soulmate?” Isaac asks.

He looks at the conductor with blurry vision, choking on the word, “absolutely.”

“Then this is where I leave you, Stiles,” Isaac holds out his hand, “it was a pleasure to meet you and bring you to your soulmate.”

Stiles shakes his hand, “you too, Isaac, thank you. Tell Brett goodbye and that I’ll be able to try his coffee.”

When Isaac gets back on the train, he tips his hat with a smile. As the locomotive begins to move, it takes on the same glowing blue nature of the tracks, disappearing all together. It leaves no sign that it was ever there. No smoke. No lingering scent of coal. No indents where the tracks once were.

He has barely a second to turn around before Theo slams into him with a snarl. Stiles hits the ground with a hard thud, the chimera’s fangs mere inches from his face as he roars. Theo has his claws fisted on either side of the human’s head, huffing out growled breaths. Stiles’ heart is pounding.

“Theo stop!” Josh catches up, skidding to a halt. “It is you,” the raiju says in something akin to wonder with misty eyes. “Theo, get off of-”

“Stop,” Stiles raises his hand before the Alpha can lunge. “He needs to recognize me himself or there’s no hope of getting him back.” Like Cora and Boyd the night of their first full moon after being deprived for months. “Theo needs to do whatever he needs to do,” the human cautiously raises his wrist for the chimera to scent. “It’s okay, Kochaine,” he soothes, the name rolling off his tongue with ease. Noticing the way that with every word he says, the Alpha’s breaths slow down.

Corey, Tracy, Mason, and Hayden join them, the former speaking, “is this real?”

Theo snarls at the additional voice, ready to attack his own pack he’s that far gone.

“Back off,” Stiles warns from underneath the Alpha. “I don’t know how long your Stiles has been gone for. Theo,” he cups the chimera’s face, “look at me,” coaxing his attention back. Theo whines when they make eye contact, “my Theo died too,” Stiles’ own eyes water. Tracy and Corey gasp at the admission. “The Soulmate Train can travel between universes and timelines,” he explains to the pack. “They gave us back what we lost,” his voice shakes, stroking the hairy face he never thought he’d see much less feel again.

“I’ll call your dad,” Hayden whispers so as not to startle the Alpha.

“No,” his fingers glide along the point of Theo’s ears, “let me bring him back to himself first. We’re lucky he’s not stuck in his full shift. Call him in the morning.” Stiles sniffles, “I missed you.”

Theo leans down, sniffing the human’s pulse before a softer rumble vibrates his chest. “Stiles,” his voice is thick, rough with who knows how long without use. The Alpha collapses on him, arms wrapping around his sides, nose scenting his neck. “Stiles,” the chimera grumbles again. Seemingly the only word he’s capable of saying right now.

“I’m right here,” Stiles assures his soulmate. Carding his fingers through Theo’s longer hair. “Exactly how long have I been gone for?” The Alpha’s hair wasn’t but an inch long the last he’d seen him.

There’s a pregnant pause before Mason answers, “six months.”

Theo looks up at him with red eyes. He’s in there, somewhere, Stiles is sure of it. The excess hair has gone away and the chimera’s ears are back to normal, but his fangs remain. The Alpha has had to live without him for twice the amount Stiles had. His heart bleeds for him.

“Can you hear me in there?” He returns his attention back to the task at hand. Theo grunts in response, bumping his nose against the human’s chin purposefully. Stiles will take that as much of a yes as the chimera can offer right now. “Okay,” he tilts his head back, exposing his throat for the Alpha’s needs.

Whatever it takes to bring him back.

But then Theo’s tongue joins the scenting and Stiles shivers from the act. It slams him back into the present. Reminding Stiles that they’re very much in public. The middle of the night, yes. But in the Alpha’s front yard with his pack right next to them just the same. Not the place to be licking someone’s neck…or grinding against them.

“Hey, Theo,” Stiles gently pats the chimera’s shoulders. He gets an annoyed grunt followed by a nip below his ear. “Kochaine,” he muses, “I was just going to ask if we could maybe go inside.”

The Alpha goes rigid above him, curious rubies searching Stiles’ face. Theo seems to find whatever he was looking for, because without further ado, the chimera climbs off of him. The moment Theo is standing, he pulls the human to his feet and promptly into a bridal carry, heading towards the door without another word. Just more growls and grabby hands.

Stiles doesn’t object, seeing Tracy grab his fallen bag over the Alpha’s shoulder. He simply wraps his arms around his soulmate’s neck, enjoying being able to feel Theo’s warmth again. Hear his strong breaths of life coursing through the chimera. Stiles never once dreamed he’d get to be around Theo ever again.

This couldn’t be more of a fantasy come to life.

When they reach Theo’s room upstairs, he’s unceremoniously dropped on the bed. Stiles has barely a chance to recover before Theo is on top of him again. For the first time tonight, the Alpha says something other than his name.

“I need you,” Theo murmurs into his neck, suggestive hands squeeze his waist. Fingers pleading just as much as the Alpha’s words, “please, Stiles. Need you.”

“I’m right here,” he assures his soulmate, lifting his head to make Theo look at him. “Take what you need,” Stiles says, pulling the Alpha into a kiss. Not caring in the slightest over the way his fangs make it sloppy and uncoordinated.

He finally has Theo and not a damn thing is going to dampen that.

They have all the time in the world for proper kissing.

Because when it boils down to it, Stiles needs this just as much as the chimera does. When the Alpha thrusts inside of him, there isn’t a single thing that could make it better. Watching Theo come apart with his name moaned from the chimera’s lips is perfect. Because when they stop, Theo still inside of him, blue eyes blink lovingly back at him. Theo, finally back to himself once more, is smiling and brushing his fingers along Stiles’ face.

Stiles couldn’t be more happy to have gotten a ticket.

#teen wolf #steo #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #theo x stiles #stiles x theo #ao3 fic #Match Writes

36 notes · View notes