"I don't think this is such a good idea," Isaac whined as Derek picked his way through briars and underbrush.

"Then I probably should've chose Scott," Derek mumbled to himself.

The dirt path was overgrown now, but he would still know the way even if he was blind and deaf. In a few more feet, there would be a large willow tree, and under it his uncle would be waiting for him, hopefully with good news.

As they emerged from the forest, Derek stopped, causing Isaac, who'd been looking down the whole time, to bump into him. "Ow, warn a guy before you do that!" Isaac grumbled.

Derek glanced at the small glen where the willow tree stood; uncle Peter wasn't under it, instead there was someone else, someone covered in blood, from the scent Derek was getting as the wind blew in his direction, he couldn't recognize the figure, but it looked like a girl, and he only really talked to two girls, Lydia and Allison.

Isaac rushed towards the body, he gently placed his hands on the girl's arms, and turned her over cautiously, and gasped in surprise.

Derek felt a knot form in his stomach, it was Lydia Martin.

She wore what had once been a designer dress, but it was now ripped to shreds, her shoes were missing, and her hair was covered with leaves and dirt. The blood was coming from three deep claw marks across her chest and right shoulder.

"Lydia?" Isaac softly shook her, and she mumbled something incoherent.

"Lydia, wake up, please…" Isaac requested, glancing at Derek.

"L-Legion…" Lydia muttered, her eyes flickering open.

"What?" Derek went wide eyed.

"He said Legion…he, he marked me…" Lydia huffed, and tried to sit up, Isaac held her down, and she looked unstable and could barely keep her eyes open as she spoke.

"Lay down, I'll call Scott, Derek; you get her to the hospital…" Isaac said, whipping out his phone and dialing one.

"Stay with me Lydia," Derek pleaded. He scooped Lydia into his arms carefully and began to jog, leaving Isaac under the willow tree.

"Legion? What does that mean?" Allison rubbed her arms as she stared into Lydia's room through the Plexiglas window.

"I've only heard of it once before, I think I has something to do with demons…" Scott stated, gripping Isaac's hand firmly.

"Who attacked her though? You don't think…" Allison broke off, watching for Derek's reaction.

As expected, Derek rounded on her and his eyes glowed an icy blue, "NO, it's not Stiles!"

Stiles had died a few months before in an effort to save Derek's life, everyone said that he would come back to haunt them, but Derek knew that he wouldn't be demonic, Stiles wasn't like that.

"Hell can change you," Peter said from his leaning position against the far wall.

"You should know," Derek muttered.

"It's nothing like Earth," Peter explained, "It's gloomy, and rather depressing, and your thoughts can scramble up the walls all they want but you'll eventually go insane from incarceration, there's no escaping, you can't even escape yourself."

"So, you think Stiles attacked Lydia so that he could escape hell?" Scott trembled slightly at the thought.

"I'm not saying its Stiles, but usually if a phantom has a connection with a person, they can leave scars, and I'd say that this phantom has some deep, personal connections with Miss Martin."

"What about Jackson? Nobody's heard from him in months," Isaac interrupted.

"He's in London; of course we wouldn't be hearing from him, he wants nothing to do with us." Allison replied exasperatedly.

"But he was Lydia's first love, there's a chance he could be dead right? S-so maybe it's him and not S-Stiles." Isaac said, stuttering slightly as he wasn't used to speaking his mind around the group.

"It's definitely a possibility," Scott gave Isaac a reassuring smile.

Derek remained quiet, arms crossed and his usual pondering expression masking his face.

"First Werewolves, then Druids, then Banshee's and now Demons…? Why not just invite the whole supernatural world to Beacon Hills?" he demanded.

"Oh that may happen sooner than you think…" Peter smirked.

Derek? Stiles couldn't sleep again, nightmares plagued him as he tossed and turned in the sheets; Derek ran a comforting hand down his arm, he noticed the goose bumps and inched closer, murmuring words into his ear.

Stiles please try and sleep. Derek whispered.

I can't. Stiles replied, turning over and curling into Derek.

I know.

"D-Derek?" Lydia yawned.

Derek roused from his uncomfortable position against the wall, and glanced at Lydia. The strawberry-blonde looked at him with wide doe eyes; they held fear, something he wasn't used to seeing.

"It was Stiles…Derek, Stiles, I saw him." Lydia felt the need to make sure this point was made clear.

"What happened Lydia?" Derek wondered.

"Allison and I…we were playing with the Ouija board, and we were trying to summon spirits," Lines appeared in Lydia's forehead as she scrunched up her face, trying to remember. "H-He came through, but he wasn't himself…he was dark, Derek, he'd t-turned. Derek, I think Stiles is a Demon."

Derek nodded. "I know."