Deaton was reluctant to let Derek in.

"We did this once before and you ignored my orders. Thankfully, Isaac was not harmed, but he is a werewolf, Stiles is human. What if you get carried away and it kills him?" Deaton lectured, standing his ground.

"I won't," Derek spoke through gritted teeth.

"Might I remind you that you said the exact same thing before?" Deaton just would not budge. Derek knew it was hopeless. He needed Scott here.

"Can I leave Stiles here while I go outside and make a call? He doesn't look too good," Derek had his arm around Stiles to support him. He made sure Deaton wasn't looking as he pinched Stiles' arm.

Stiles yelped and glared at Derek, but didn't say anything.

"All right, I suppose," Deaton said reluctantly, pointing at the chairs in the waiting room.

Derek looked pleased as he led Stiles to the nearest chair. "Play along," he hissed, pretending to check Stiles' temperature.

Stiles nodded slightly to indicate he understood.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Derek told Deaton,

Once outside, Derek took out Stiles' phone and called Scott.

"Hello?" Scott answered after the third ring.

"Scott, can you come to Deaton's office?" Derek asked.

"Why?" Scott sounded confused.

"I need your help," Derek admitted.

Scott sighed. "I'll be there in a few minutes. This better be important."

Derek hung up without a second thought. "If only you knew how important this truly is," he thought.

"Okay, remember that I will almost be killing Stiles, so we have to be really careful. No one talks except me. You two are in charge of holding him down. Only holding him down," Deaton looked at Derek as he said the last part, making sure Derek understood.

Derek rolled his eyes and nodded to indicate he understood. He just wanted to get this over with.

"Stiles, are you ready?" Deaton asked Stiles; making sure the boy knew what he was getting himself into.

"I guess so," Stiles replied, looking at Scott hesitantly. "You guys won't let me die, right? "

Scott and Derek both replied in unison. "Of course not."

Stiles took a deep breath as he stepped into the tub full of ice with the help of Scott. "Here goes nothing."

"Stiles, do you remember last night?" Deaton asked softly.

"Yeah. My dad was drunk." Stiles wasn't moving at all. It was strange seeing him stay still for so long. He was usually always doing something or mouthing someone off.

"Okay. What about later that night? Did you go to sleep early or late?"

"I didn't," Stiles responded.

"You didn't sleep at all?"

"No."

"What did you do then?" Deaton was sure they were about to learn something none of them wanted to hear.

"I… was talking to my mom," Stiles' voice shook.

"Your mom is dead, Stiles," Deaton whispered.

"She was there," Stiles insisted. "She was mad at me, mad because… because I killed her."

His voice got louder and he was speaking quickly. "I killed her, I killed her. She told me it was her turn to kill me. She gave me a bottle of pills…. Said that would do the trick. She wouldn't leave, wouldn't stop blaming me until I swallowed every single one. She made me wash them down with my dad's wine."

Everyone heard the desperation in his voice. "I killed her and she came back to kill me. She said my dad would be better off without me. I didn't want to do it but I couldn't make her go away. I couldn't get the accusations out of my head. 'You killed me, Stiles, you killed me. I loved you with all my heart and you repaid me by killing me!' Louder and louder until I felt like my head would explode."

Stiles stopped speaking suddenly. The whole room was silent. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath.

"I didn't want to kill her. I tried to get her to understand, but she wouldn't listen to me. No one ever listens to me until it's too late!" Stiles finally stopped.

Deaton asked one last question. "Stiles, think hard. Was it really your mother last night?"

"It was her! It was her!" Stiles chanted over and over until his voice gave out.

"There's something not right about this whole thing," Derek felt frustrated.

Scott didn't say anything. He was still too shocked to speak.

"Scott, help me figure this out. Stiles' life may be in danger!" Derek snapped, feeling like he was suffocating.

"I can't believe he never told me any of this. He never talked about his mom after she died. I didn't know he felt this way," Scott sighed, running his hands through his hair.

"Scott, focus. There's a time and place for everything, and right now it's time to work together so we can save Stiles!" Derek was close to punching a wall.

"Something similar happened when we stayed at the motel a few weeks ago. It was the wolfsbane in Coach's whistle making us all hallucinate and want to commit suicide. There was also that one time when Lydia gave us all punch spiked with wolfsbane and we all hallucinated. You think it could be something like that?" Scott looked over at Stiles. He was sitting on an operating table, sipping ginger ale to calm his stomach. He didn't seem to remember anything, and if he did, he was choosing to ignore it.

"Okay, let's just say the pills had wolfsbane, or maybe his dad's wine. He took those AFTER the hallucinations, not before. It must have been something else."

Scott nodded. "I know Lydia would recognize it, so why don't I give her a call and tell her to go check Stiles' house for any sign of it?"

"Yeah, do that. Meanwhile, we have to keep our eye on Stiles," Derek informed.

"Should we take him to the hospital?"

"He's already puked up most, if not all of those pills, and he seems to be doing better. Let's just keep an eye on him, and if he gets worse, we take him to the hospital," Derek suggested.

Scott agreed. It was as good of an idea as any. He just hoped they would be able to handle this on their own and no one would get hurt.