He could totally do this.
If Deaton could do it he fucking could.
Easy shit. Okay. Okay. You got this Stilinski.
Fuck...he couldn't do this.
It had been three hours now that Stiles had been hyping himself up in the forest. He had done some push ups, chugged two Monsters, popped an extra adderall and had a marathon masturbation session before leaving his house to get his adrenalin pumping and clear his mind of any distractions. When he went into the preserve for the sixth day in the row he was ready. Full focus.
All he had to do was find the nemeton and juice it up while practicing to use his spark. Easy. Mostly. Finding the nemeton wasn't a problem, it never was. He could walk into the forest with his eyes closed and walk in any direction for five minutes and be at the tree stump when he opened his eyes. Seriously, he tried it once.
The spark shit is what he was struggling with. He was getting good at small things like making fireballs the size of golf balls or electrocution himself, but he hadn't been able to touch that part of himself that connected him to the tree. He had to do that to truly control his spark and heal the tree. No pressure. Deaton told him his usual cryptic shit of "believe in yourself" and "look within" and "you'll do it when you're ready". Had the guy never heard of an instruction manual? Last time he looked within he came out with a centuries old trickster who tried to steal his identity. He still wasn't sure if the body he had now was even his.
"Get it together, dude. You can't let the pack down."
Thats what it was always about, wasn't it? Not letting his friends down. His family. He couldn't do it again. Not after killing Allison. Not after being completely useless when the Alpha pack tore his friends apart. God, but the pressure was so much. Too much.
His mind wandered to the people he lost and to the blonde beta he had grown up with. His heart hurt if he thought too much about her, not that it stopped him. He had always regretted how he treated her in school by not treating her like anything. He knew what it was like to need friends, but he had been so far up Scott's ass he never noticed or cared. Then she got the bite and he couldn't think of anyone more deserving. The life that it sparked into her was transformative and he never expressed it out loud, but he loved seeing the hellcat she turned into. Even if she was a bitch who, on more than one occasion, beat his face in. He kinda liked it anyway.
Damn, she'd probably think he was pretty pathetic right now if she saw him next to the tree flailing his arms around like it would actually do something. Why couldn't he just---
"Do something dammit!" He growled, electricity zapping out of his hands as he yelled, effectively knocking him back onto his ass.