laniew1: (SHIELD - Avengers)
[personal profile] laniew1
Summary: Stiles is back home, everything and nothing is the same.

TITLE: SS:AOS: The Rise of A’kresh
SERIES: Stiles Stilinski: Agent of SHIELD
RATING: PG-13 (for now)
PAIRING: Stiles/Clint
AUTHOR: Melanie
Summary: Stiles is back home, everything and nothing is the same.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing Marvel, MTV, etc own everything but the idea to mesh them..

SS:AOS: The Rise of A’kresh 5/?

He’s just stepping off the jet heading on foot towards the tower when he feels the wards that Stiles had placed around Beacon Hills go up, it’s like a vise wrapping around the wrist with the mark and a spark of static electricity running the length of his body.

He runs a shaking hand over his head because he feels like his hair should be standing on end even though he knows that’s not how this works.

The phone in his pocket has Stiles’ number programmed into it; he knows that if he tries to call it right now it won’t work.

It won’t work until the wards come down, Stiles has essentially cut off Beacon Hills from the rest of the world.

He needs to get to Clint and the others, needs to figure out if SHIELD was compromised and if so how badly. The Avengers are good, they’ll all be good, he doesn’t know how he knows this, but he knows this in his bones like he knows that besides himself and Darla, Clint was the only one that Stiles had actually marked.


She’s coming out of her Political Science class, shoving a notebook into her bag and trying to decide if she has enough time to grab a latté before her next class. She’s already made the decision that there is always time for caffeine and is capping her pen when the wards go up.

She drops the pen with a gasp, hand wrapping around her wrist and he never mentioned how much it would hurt. She might have said no if he’d told her about the pain.

“Darla, are you okay?” one of her classmates is kneeling in front of her, eyes worried and focused on her when she opens her own.

She takes a breath, then another.

“I’m okay,” she says. “I’m okay.”


Clint flexes the fingers of his hands; he’s been counting from 100 down in Russian in his head. His wrist still hurts, little pin pricks of pain that spark periodically, he rotates his wrist and breathes.

The biggest spike of pain, what had felt like hand wrapping around his wrist wrapping it in fire had happened before Fury had called this meeting.

It’s just him, Steve, Tony and Bruce in the room with him, Natasha is noticeably absent, her chair sitting empty and Clint tries not to look at it.

He should probably be focusing on the meeting but he’s really not. He’s thinking about Crawford’s list and the fact that he hasn't seen or heard anything about Stiles in almost two months.

Fury clicks something and a map populates the screen, pictures going up around it. He draws a breath and opens his mouth but the door opens before he can say anything.

“Crawford,” Fury’s voice is harsh, he doesn't like being interrupted. “This is a private meeting how did you get in here?”

“Um,” Crawford’s gone pale, he looks like he’s going to drop the books in his arms and Steve being Captain America pushes out of his chair and takes them from him, setting them on the edge of the table.

“Can we help you son?” Steve asks kindly, Fury just shakes his head and looks at the ceiling.

Crawford just kind of stands there, he has a backpack slung over one shoulder, not a SHIELD issue because it’s brown with red stripes instead of the standard black and blue.

Crawford looks at him, eyes kind of imploring him to step up and save him. Crawford isn’t Stiles, he can’t just walk into a room full of people in the upper ranks of SHIELD and just start talking.

Except Stiles kind of didn’t like doing that either, he rubs at his wrist and Crawford’s eyes narrow in on that.

He straightens his shoulders and clears his throat. His voice is still soft when he speaks though, like even though he’s steeled himself he really doesn’t want to be there.

“The wards have gone up around Beacon Hills.”


There are pictures, trees with strange symbols carved into them and smudged with something dark that Fury says is blood.

Stiles’ blood, he doesn’t know if the others can see it, but those trees marked with that symbol are forming a circle.

“We can’t get in,” Crawford is saying, Steve ignores the fact that his hand is shaking, ignores the fact that he’s lying. Stiles would have found a way for them to get in.

If they weren’t compromised.

“How do we help them then?” Tony asks, he’s tapping at his phone but from a glance at earlier Steve knows he’s playing games on it. He’s acting like he’s bored, but he’s paying attention which means this matters.

“We don’t,” Crawford says, Clint makes a noise that sounds like protest. “We don’t need to, they’re not the ones in trouble; Beacon Hills is effectively the safest place on Earth right now.”

“Except for the werewolves,” Bruce murmurs, Crawford just shrugs his shoulders a little.

“The werewolves in Beacon Hills are on our side, mostly.”

“If you have something to share…” Fury begins.

Crawford slides a book further into the middle of the table, it’s already flipped open and the symbol on the page is one that he’s seen before.

He know he has.

He just can’t remember…

“A’Kresh is a demon,” Crawford says. “But demons don’t work alone, and they’re not like on TV or whatever, they’re not black smoke…”

“Supernatural,” Steve says, because Tony forced him to sit through an episode once and mocked the entire hour including commercials for its inaccuracies.

“Yeah, not like that. Demons are called, they inhabit the body of someone, yes, but there’s a whole ceremony to make sure the right demon is called forward and the human host is marked with a symbol and that’s where they stay.”

“So point us at the demon and we’ll take care of it, no muss, no fuss,” Tony says, he stretches slightly.

Crawford winces. “It’s not actually that easy, it’ll be protected by, like, supernatural stuff and we might have another problem besides,” he looks down at the table. Taps a finger and takes a breath.

“Stiles thinks it was raised somewhere else,” Clint says slowly, “using the bridge tech stuff that Stark has been trying to figure out. Does he have a theory on who it’s working for?”

There’s a couple of organizations that are thorns in SHIELD’s side; he can think of at least four right off the top of his head.

“Hydra,” Crawford winces at the explosion of noise. Fury is swearing and Tony is muttering and Bruce is doing some deep breathing exercise from the look of it.

Funny, that hadn’t been one of them, and from the look on Steve’s face he hadn’t been expecting that response either.

“Alrighty then.”


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September 2016


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