Even though it was in the middle of the night, Stiles picked up the buzzing phone within seconds. "What's wrong?" he asked – the standard greeting phrase.

"Derek," Scott answered.

"What about him? Wait, don't tell me – he got in a car crash the minute he left Beacon Hills. Honestly, that guy–"

"No. He's here."

"Wait, what? Derek's at your house?" Stiles sat up straight. "But he's supposed to be away on some mystery mission with Dora the explorer, isn't he?" He could have sworn he heard a familiar grunt in the background. Derek's sense of humor obviously hadn't improved since they last met.

"Well, he isn't. And you know what that means."

"Yeah – trouble. I'll be there in a few minutes."

… … …

"So, Derek, explain to us why you're here," Stiles demanded. "It's been so nice with you gone – no casualties, no life-threatening plans, no evil monsters trying to kill us."

"Extremely nice," Isaac added, as Stiles walked pass him, collapsing on the sofa. Isaac was in his PJ:s, which made Stiles wish he hadn't bothered with changing into jeans before coming there – it could have been like a slumber party, if you ignored the fact that someone, or something, probably wanted them dead. Again.

Derek glared at them both. Stiles supposed it was meant to scare them, but compared to everything else they'd been through, Derek was about as scary as Grumpy Cat.

"Yeah, what's going on?" Scott wanted to know. "I mean, you never explained why you left in the first place, but we figured it was important."

Derek frowned, which usually meant that he was trying to think of something to say.

"It's Deucalion, isn't it?" Stiles said. "God, I knew you never should have let him go – still can't believe you did, actually. No one who voluntarily calls themselves 'demon wolf' should be allowed in society."

"No," Derek finally said, clearing his throat. "It's not him."

Stiles made a sweeping gesture with his palms. "Feel free to elaborate."

Derek cleared his throat again. "Peter."

"What about him?" Scott asked. "Last time we saw him he was on our side."

"As much as a murderous psychopath can be," Isaac pointed out.

"Yeah. This pack really needs to stop forgiving insane criminals," Stiles said. "So, what's your dear uncle up to this time?"

Derek cleared his throat for a third time, staring at some spot on the wall.

"I think he wants to kill Scott."

… … …

A few minutes later, Derek had explained Peter's hidden agenda of killing Scott to gain alpha powers again.

"But don't worry, I've got a plan," Derek finished, his jaws clenched.

"That's exactly what makes us worried," Stiles said.

"What?" Derek said, looking annoyed. Stiles had a feeling the look was stuck on his face permanently.

"Well, your plans are usually what put us in even more trouble than to begin with."

"Because your ingenious ideas are always fool-proof," Derek retorted.

"Better than yours, at least."

"Hey!" Scott interjected. "Can we get back to the part where Peter is wanting to kill me? Derek, the plan?"

… … …

"Uh, say what?" Stiles lifted his brows, and turned to see if the others had heard what he'd heard, or if he was hallucinating due to sleep deprivation. Both Scott and Isaac's usually smooth foreheads were furrowed, so unfortunately, Stiles was still conscious.

"… you want Scott … inside you?" Isaac said, discretely adjusting himself in the sofa so that he got as far away from Derek as possible.

Stiles shook his head. "And here I always thought the two of us had something special."

"Look, Derek …" Scott said. "I don't want to die … but I don't want to do that either."

"What?" Derek looked at them in confusion. "No. God, no!" He shook his head. "No. Didn't you listen? I want Scott and me to be able to conjoin our powers – like the alpha twins."

"… you want Scott inside you," Stiles repeated. "Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum may have the strength of the Hulk, but if that isn't twincest at its finest, then I don't know what."

Derek clenched his jaw, mumbling something about Boyd and Erica dying, but 'that one had to survive'.

"You know you'd be devastated if I died," Stiles said, unaffected. "Also, isn't there a small problem with that plan? It's even in the name: Alpha. Twin. Of which you are neither."

"I spoke to Deucalion before he left," Derek answered. "Apparently it's easier for both alphas and twins to conjoin, but any werewolf can do it with enough practice and help. What's really necessary is a connection during the transformation."

"And how do you reach this 'connection'?" Scott swallowed nervously. "Also, why's it even necessary? We've defeated Peter before, without any weird body merging."

"Look," Derek said. "With me only being a beta again, and your alpha beta identity crisis, combining our strengths is the best option."

"I dunno," Isaac said. "Sure, you'd get semi-alpha powers again, but what's in it for Scott, other than the grow spurt and a chronically bad mood?"

Derek narrowed his eyes. "How about my expertise and knowledge?"

"Ha," Stiles interjected.

Derek's eyes narrowed even more, turning into two small splinters. "I've been an alpha before, and I've known Peter all my life. But if you kids want to take him on all on your own, then be my guests. Let me just tell you that he's had his fair share of time planning this, and he'll be prepared for anything coming at him."

Stiles tilted his head. "Except the mutant ninja werewolf named Scerec."

Isaac looked at him. "Scare elk?"

"No – Scerec. Like Brangelina, you know, only with Scott and Derek. Scerec. Not as catching as Sterek or Scisaac, though, but it'll do," he said, only to realize that all of this had made them look very uncomfortable. "Not that I've ever in my life have thought about this before. Because that would be weird." For some reason they didn't seem to buy it. "Ehum … so, you were saying?"

… … …

"Um, is the handholding really necessary?" Isaac asked, situated between Stiles and Derek. "I mean, me and Stiles are not even a part of this."

"Trust me, if it wasn't necessary, we wouldn't be doing it," Derek answered, looking straight ahead, ignoring the fact that he was holding Isaac's and Scott's hands in a tight grip. "Since we're neither alphas or twins, we need the extra power from you. Although, technically, that means werewolf powers, so I'm not sure why Stiles is–"

"Because you dragged my ass here at three in the morning, that's why," Stiles finished. "And considering the fact that your powers are the equivalent of an omega after your little rescue mission, I think you should be grateful for any extra help at all."

"Fine, whatever," Derek said. "Don't blame me if your tiny little human body is too frail and you end up dead."

"If I do, I promise I'll come back and haunt you personally."

"Guys, mom will be back from her night shift soon, and I'd really like for this to be over with by then," Scott said. "So please, just shut up." The others mumbled, but did as they'd been told. "You ready?" he asked, and they all nodded, except for Stiles.

"If the connection is so important, shouldn't we do everything we can to make it stronger? Like, I dunno, mixing your blood, or whatever."

"Trust me," Derek said. "Holding hands while extracting claws is a sure way of spilling blood."

"Oh," Stiles said, looking down at his hands being embraced by Scott's and Isaac's.

"Sure you still want to be a part of this?" Derek smirked.

"Yes," he answered solemnly, and squeezed his friends' hands harder – which obviously didn't look as badass as Stiles had intended it, but it's the thought that counts.

… … …

Oh, god. Oh, my fucking god. Sweet lord in heaven, have mercy on my body and soul. Fuuuuuck.

Stiles felt hung-over. No, that was putting it too mildly. He felt as if the entirety of his inner organs – lungs, heart, spleen, liver, intestines – wanted to abandon his body via whatever opening that was closest. The rest of his body felt as if it had been beaten and torn into pieces by a pack of werewolves – every inch of his body hurt, even the eyeballs.

"Derek!" he tried to yell, wanting to blame him for letting Stiles take part of this obviously not-suited-for-humans ritual, but it only came out as a growl.

"Good god, I think they're waking up," someone said in a familiar voice. There was a pang in Stiles' stomach that he mostly associated with seeing Lydia, but the voice didn't belong to her.

"Stiles? D-derek? Can you hear me?"

Another pang, this time at the mentioning of Derek's name (but the emotion was still somewhat connected to the voice). Stiles felt like laughing menacingly, because it seemed as if he wasn't the only one affected – Derek was here too. Served him right.

"Scott, come here!" it called, threatening to burst Stiles' eardrums. Still, some part of his body didn't mind this voice being close – rather the opposite.

Footsteps came closer, and a familiar scent placed the new person before he'd said anything – it was Scott.

… but how the fuck could Stiles know it was Scott just based on his smell? Sure, after lacrosse practice, maybe, but this was a clean, subtle smell.

Why wouldn't you know a person based on their smell? a rather grumpy voice inside Stiles' head said, and Stiles didn't feel like arguing himself. He tried to open his eyes, but they refused to cooperate.

"What is it, mom? Any change?" Scott asked, which made Stiles realize …

Jesus fucking Christ.

The first voice had belonged to Mrs. McCall. Which meant that Stiles for a second or two had found her attractive. The woman he basically considered his second mother. Attractive. The nausea increased.

She's NOTHING like my mother, a grumpy voice insisted.

Except that she is. I've spent as much time in her house as my own.

No, I haven't. What am I even talking about?

Scott's mom interrupted Stiles' confused thoughts. "It, or he … or, I suppose, they made a sound. They still don't seem to be awake, though."

Stiles was sort of annoyed that Mrs. McCall seemed as concerned about Derek's well-being as his own, but then again, she was a nurse and it was her job. And to be honest, Derek actually deserved someone being nice to him for once in a while. Even if that someone sure as hell wouldn't be Stiles.

There was a twinge inside Stiles' stomach, this time an unhappy one. He should be nicer to Derek, because Derek didn't deserve being bullied by a kid half his age.

Except that he did, because Derek was a sour wolf who needed to lighten up.

Sour wolf? What the fuck? How hard did I hit my head to use that word?

Stiles was confused. Sour wolf was his invention, so why wouldn't he use it? Unless … unless that grumpy voice wasn't his grumpy voice.

Oh, no. Oh, NO. No, no, no, no, no.

Stiles? the grumpy voice asked.

… Derek? Stiles answered questioningly, and for a few seconds their minds sent the same signals.

Derek and Stiles' merged body sat up screaming.

… … …

Scott stood in front of them. "Stiles? Derek? Calm down! Everything's gonna be okay! There's just been a few … complications."

"Yeah, you could say that," Isaac laughed. "You should see yourselves."

"Isaac!" Mrs. McCall said. "They're in shock, and you're not helping."

No, it can't be, Derek thought to himself – and to Stiles. He's not even a werewolf.

Stiles raised his voice, which was a very hard thing to do inside your own head. I'M not even a werewolf, he corrected. And since you can hear me, that small detail obviously didn't matter.

There was a sharp pain along their shared spine, as if they were being torn into two different directions by monster trucks.

Oh my gooood, Stiles cried. Can't you just change back? Make it stooooop.

What do you think I'm trying to do? That's where the pain's coming from, Derek grunted. But it's not working.

"Are you guys okay?" Scott asked.

What the fuck do you think? Derek tried to say. Stiles was leaning more towards yes, apart from the small fact that Derek and me are in the same body. It came out as neither.

"Fuck apart Derek body," Sterek said.

Scott smiled nervously. "… obviously not. – Mom, do something."

"What, Scott? I don't understand normal werewolves, let alone this!" she said and held up a clawed hand. Stiles' and Derek's hand. With claws. Stiles felt faint.

And there it was again, the pang of emotions in the abdominal area, as Mrs. McCall touched them. It certainly didn't come from Stiles' end.

OH MY GOD, you think Scott's mom's hot?

"GOD'S HOT!" Sterek called out, scaring Mrs. McCall half to death.

No! Derek roared, but it was pretty hard to lie to someone when you're sharing the same mind.

You totally fucking do! Oh, god, wait 'til Scott finds out.

If you tell him, I'll kill you.

Honestly, coming from you, I'm not very scared by that threat, as everything you plan turns out the exact opposite. You'll probably end up making me immortal or something.

I hate you.

"It must've mashed their brains," Isaac guessed. "God, I'm glad we weren't affected."

I'll mash your fucking brain in, Derek wanted to say, but once again it didn't turn out exactly as planned.

"Brain," Sterek said.

"Jesus, is that thing even human anymore?" Isaac asked, backing away a bit.

"Maybe we should let Deaton take a look at them," Scott suggested. Isaac and Mrs. McCall nodded in agreement.

Great, they think we've turned into some sort of zombie, Stiles sighed. They'll probably cut our head off and torch the remains.

Shut up, Derek thought. Shut up, and I'll fix this.

Yeah, because it's not like this is your fault to begin with.

I told you this wasn't meant for humans.

You didn't tell me I was risking spending the rest of my life trapped with you. Stiles tried to fold his arms, which resulted in Sterek's hands flapping about a bit before falling down again.

Do you think I'd ever risk that if I'd known that? Now, just shut up and I'll do the talking.

What happened? Derek wanted to know. How long have we been out?

"What. Long. Out."

Isaac leaned closer. He smelled like wet dog, but weirdly enough Stiles didn't find it disgusting. He guessed that was Derek's fault, too.

"I think it's trying to communicate," Isaac said. "Though I have no idea what it's supposed to mean."

Great job, Derek. Brilliant, really. Stiles had an impulse to clap his hands, but it only led to Sterek's hands flailing around again.

You know what? Fuck you.

Pfft. Fuck YOU.

Sterek opened his mouth. "Fuck. You."

The excitement of the progress made Stiles want to jump up and down, which led to their shared body having some sort of spasm.

"Brain dead but still rude," Isaac said. "You know what, if they don't get better, maybe we can just keep it as a guard dog. At least it looks scary."

Once again Stiles and Derek seemed to agree on what to say.

"Fuck you, Isaac."

… … …

"We're gonna take you guys to Deaton, okay? You remember the vet slash witch, right?" Scott explained in a baby-sort-of-voice as he helped them to stand up.

"Stupid captain," Sterek said, and fell on his face.

(What they had been going for was We're merged, not stupid, in Derek's case, while Stiles tried to say thank you, captain obvious. Apparently multi-tasking wasn't their thing.)

They staggered their way outside, trying to put one leg in front of the other without tripping themselves other. It took them another three falls before they finally made it out to the car.

And then there was the reflection of them in the car windows. A bit more hair than Stiles was used to, a hint of sideburns, fangs – and a massive red scar splitting down the center of their face. But it honestly didn't look as grotesque as a lot of other werewolves (maybe because Stiles in fact wasn't one).

Isaac was totally overreacting, Stiles said. I think we look hot. And look! I'm tall! Fucking finally!

Derek moaned internally.

… … …

So you're saying we have to agree on everything we're gonna say or do? Derek asked when they'd finally managed to get all their uncooperative limbs inside the car.

You were here, weren't you? Stiles answered. Well, you obviously were, but you know what I mean.

Okay.

Good. So we ask what happened, and why they weren't affected, and if they have any idea how to get us separated, and how long it might take, and–

Slow down, Stilinski. You're giving me a headache.

And your grumpiness is giving me one as well, so I guess we're even. Okay, first question then – what happened? On three.

Okay.

They took a deep, mutual breath, and then tried to talk at the same time, saying the same thing.

"What. Happened," Sterek said from the backseat. The voice was rough, and sounded nothing like either of them.

"Stiles? Derek? God, this is so weird," Scott said, turning around to look at them from the passenger seat. "Um, what happened? Well, I dunno, really. Me and Derek started transforming, and drained energy from Isaac and you, but then Isaac and me were sort of cast out … and you guys weren't. It was scary as fuck."

"You remember seeing the twins do it? Yeah, that was nothing in comparison," Isaac said. "It sorta looked like Derek's body swallowed yours, Stiles."

"Anyway, we figured you'd separate again, but then you guys passed out, and you were still in the same body."

"You were unconscious the entire night and morning. We had to drag your ass to the sofa, and let me tell you, you guys weigh a fucking ton."

"So … Derek," Scott said. "You got any idea how to fix this?"

No, Derek thought. "Nnnnn," Sterek mumbled.

You DON'T? Stiles burst out. "Oon't!?" Sterek yelled, his voice so loud Isaac yanked away from him in surprise.

"I take that as a no," Isaac said, leaning towards the car door.

… … …

When they reached the vet, Mrs. McCall left the engine running, and stayed in the car as the others reached for the doors.

"You're not coming?" Scott asked his mom.

She shook her head. "Somebody needs to tell the sheriff about this, and I'm not doing it over the phone."

"Nnnn," Sterek said.

"Stiles, you can't honestly think that I'm going to keep this from your dad." Apparently Mrs. McCall knew Stiles well enough to know it was he who was protesting.

"It'll be okay, Stiles," Scott said. "Your dad knows now, so what's the big deal?"

Dad's barely accepted there are werewolves, and that was just a few weeks ago, Stiles argued. We can't throw this in his face! Derek, tell them!

Derek grunted, but did as he'd been asked.

"He knows. About werewolves," Sterek said with a lot of effort. "But this. Is. Too much."

"Oh my god, its first full sentence," Isaac commented. Combining forces, Sterek slapped him, which made his head smash into the window. Stiles hoped it was the glass that'd cracked and not Isaac's skull.

"Aooo," it came from Isaac.

"Isaac, are you okay?" Mrs. McCall turned around worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he mumbled.

"Jesus Christ, Derek, control yourself," Scott said.

Stiles laughed at Derek getting the blame. Oops, he thought. I guess we're a bit stronger than I'm used to. Derek, say sorry.

No.

Say it, or I'll start humming on the tune to "My Little Pony".

"Sorry," Sterek grunted (though it sounded nothing like they meant it).

"Maybe you should stay after all, mom," Scott suggested. "I don't think this is the best time to anger any of them."

… … …

"What's happened?" Deaton wanted to know as he let them in. "Who's hurt?"

"Well, no one … technically," Scott answered. "But um, well …" He made a gesture towards Stiles and Derek.

"Oh," Deaton commented. "You better come inside." He opened the door up wider. "Derek. And Stiles. Based on that scar, I take it you've been trying to imitate the twins' act. May I ask whose brilliant idea this was?"

"Derek's," Isaac and Scott echoed, while Sterek let out a "Drrrrk".

"Ah."

You KNOW this was your fault, Stiles, Derek protested. I warned you.

You said I might die. This is definitely worse.

"And have you tried turning back, Derek?" Deaton wanted to know, whilst examining the scar on their face.

"Yes. It didn't. Work," Sterek said. "… obvi." (Stiles had been going for 'obviously' but hadn't gotten Derek onboard for that.)

"It's probably because of Stiles' humanness – it's resisting the de-transformation because it comes unnatural," Deaton said. "Just as it should have resisted the union to begin with. I can only image there's some sort of bond between them that the ritual must've picked up on."

See? Derek commented. It IS your fault.

Stiles started to hum on the latest Lady Gaga song trying to tune out the images that had come with Deaton's suggestion of Stiles actually wanting to stay inside Derek.

OH MY FUCKING GOD, STILES.

Okay, so that hadn't worked – instead, Do what you want with my body acted as a soundtrack to a very detailed X-rated vision, which only lead to ever more graphic thoughts.

Stiles, GODAMNIT, make it stop.

I can't, I'm trying. But it's like saying 'don't think of a pink elephant' …

A pink elephant joined the scene, turning it into a threesome.

That's IT, Derek thought. A sudden agonizing pain stopped the images and made everything black. The Sterek body screamed out loud, but by this point, no one seemed very surprised, and kept on talking as nothing was going on.

WHAT – WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Stiles screamed, barely able to put together a sentence because of the pain.

I'm stopping this, right now, Derek said, surprisingly put together. (But then again, being a werewolf, probably meant being used to pain.) I'm not spending another second stuck with you. The unbearable pain increased.

GAAAAAAAAHD, STOP! STOP-STOP-STOP-STOP-STOP! Stiles begged. Their body seemed to have a fit of sorts, turning from side to side and making noises, but other than that, Stiles had no idea what was going on on the outside.

Deaton's right, you're resisting! Derek said. Stop holding on and it'll be over within seconds.

Unggggggh, Stiles answered. Then it turned extremely quiet.

Derek stopped. … Stiles? Stiles, are you okay? There was no answer – Derek felt strangely alone in his head. This should have been a good thing, but since they were still stuck in the Sterek body (Derek couldn't believe that horrible nickname had stuck), he was a bit worried. Just a teensy tinsy bit – after all, all of this kind of was his fault. Not that he'd admit that to anyone, but still.

"Sti," he made Sterek grunt. "Sti!" But without Stiles it was impossible to say anything comprehensible, and the others didn't seem to notice anything different.

It took about thirty seconds (during which Derek was sure he'd killed Stiles, and was ready to add that guilt onto the rest), but then Stiles slowly came back to consciousness.

Uuugh, what happened? he wanted to know.

Stiles! Thank god you're alive! I thought you'd died.

Told you so.

Huh?

That you'd care if I died.

Wellmaybealittle, Derek thought extremely fast, but since fast talking/thinking was Stiles' forte, he had no problems understanding him.

Aw, you're just a big softy deep down inside, aren't you?

Deep, deep, deep down, he answered. But I swear to god, if you tell anyone, I WILL kill you.

Sure you will, sugar pie.

… … …

"Well, if normal transformation isn't working, I think I have a solution," Deaton said.

"Wayeah!" Sterek bursted out. (Derek: what? Stiles: yes!)

"Not a second too soon," Isaac said, rubbing his sore head.

"Well, what is it?" Scott asked.

"Electric shocks."

Stiles passed out again.

… … …

You know what? Stiles thought to Derek. I quite like it in here, with you. Quite comfy. And since we've almost figured out how to control little Sterek, it would be a shame to kill him, wouldn't it? That's right, we'll KILL Sterek if we go through with this. Can you live with that, Derek? Can you? CAN YOU?

We're getting electrocuted, Stiles. End of discussion. It'll be over before you know it.

Oh yes, because electrocution is just a picnic in the park. I'm a delicate flower, Derek – you should know, considering the number of times you've physically violated me.

I'm going to ignore ever hearing that. Actually, I'm going to ignore this thing ever happening.

I bet you'll miss me, though. Having some happy thoughts inside your head must be nice for a change.

I'd rather be depressed.

Liar.

Deaton came towards them with a scary looking stun gun in his hand (that was used to put out horses, they were told), interrupting their conversation. "Now, this might hurt. A lot."

… … …

When Stiles woke up, he felt lonely, even though Scott and Mrs. McCall were sitting next to him. He was quiet for a few seconds, trying to hear anyone else in his head. There was nothing.

"Did … did it work?" he asked. His voice told him he was back to his normal self again, before any of them had a chance to answer. "Where's Derek?"

"Right here," Derek said, getting a few steps closer so Stiles could see him.

For some reason, Stiles' hand went straight to his, clasping on tight. "Oops, sorry," he said, shaking it loose. "Must be some weird side effect." Derek smiled awkwardly.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess." Stiles' body was still aching, but it was more like the muscle fever you get after working out, rather than actual pain. "And you?"

"I've been through worse," Derek said with a crooked smile.

"Okay, something's wrong, guys," Isaac said.

"What'd you mean?" Scott asked, looking at the both of them. "You feel okay, don't you?"

Isaac shook his head. "No, Derek's too nice. Look, he's even smiling! Something's clearly wrong. I don't think I've ever seen his teeth in anything but a snarl."

The smile disappeared from Derek's face. "Ha, ha."

"Hey, be nice to him," Stiles said, slapping Isaac on his arm.

Scott's eyes widened. "Yeah, something's clearly off. Dude, you're nice to Derek."

"Probably another side effect that'll wear off soon enough," Deaton ensured them. "A bit of rest and you'll both soon be back to normal. Now, if you'd be so kind as to get out of here – I do actually run a facility helping animals here, believe it or not."

… … …

As Mrs. McCall unlocked the car and opened the door for him, Stiles shook his head.

"You know what? I think I'll walk home," he said.

"You sure?" she asked. "I'd be more than glad to give you a ride."

"Yeah, it'll be nice being able to use my body again without any malfunctions. But thanks."

"You want me to go with you?" Scott asked, ready to get out of the passenger seat.

"Nah, I'm good. I think I just want some peace and quiet."

Scott sat back down again. "Peace and quiet? Dude, something's definitely wrong with you."

Stiles laughed. "I'll probably be bored of being alone in a few hours. I'll call you then, okay?"

"Yeah, you do that. Meanwhile, I think Isaac and me should work on a plan B for Peter."

Derek cleared his throat. "I think I'll pass, too, Mrs. McCall. But thanks. For everything." He stiffly offered his hand, and she took it.

"You two feel anything weird, you call me, you hear?" she said to the both of them.

"Yes," they echoed (which felt familiar in a strangely good way).

As she, Scott and Isaac drove off, Stiles turned to Derek.

"Dude, you shook her hand, and now you're totally blushing? What are you, twelve?"

"We said we'd never talk about that again," Derek murmured between his teeth.

"No, you said. I never agreed to anything. Still, notice how I didn't mention your school girl act in front of them."

"How considerate."

Stiles started twisting his hands, trying to act casual. "So … you walking me home, or what? I mean, just in case the frail human suffers any more side effects, you know."

"Yeah, sure," Derek muttered. "For safety reasons."

They only walked a few yards before their hands searched each other out like highly charged magnets.

"Side effects," they both agreed.

They walked like that the entire way home.