The world imploded around them.

"Like hell you are! Get off my property McCall. You aren't taking my son anywhere. He didn't do anything!"

"What the hell do you think you're doing, dad?" Scott used a little of his supernatural strength to shove the man he called father away from his friend.

Rafael stumbled backward and grabbed the banister at the last minute to steady himself. But Stilinski was charging at him and followed up with another harsh push that had the FBI Agent falling hard onto the walkway. "God dammit, Stilinski, what's the matter with you?!" He bellowed while picking himself back up and brushing off the dirt.

Scoffing with all the anger and derision he could muster, the Sheriff countered, "What's the matter with me? You really have to ask? You're trying to arrest my son!"

"We're only taking him in for questioning. He's not under arrest."

"Bullshit! Don't play games with me, I know where questioning tends to lead."

"Only if they're guilty. Does that mean you think Stiles is guilty since you are refusing to cooperate?"

"The only thing he's guilty of is caring too much about his friends and family."

"Then he has nothing to worry about. He just needs to answer a few questions then he can go home."

"Can you guarantee that?" At the man's stoic expression and the resounding silence that filled the tense space between them, Stilinski knew the answer. "That's what I thought. He stays with me."

"Don't make me write you up on Obstruction charges. The cell block at the station would look great with a matching set of Stilinskis in them."

"Don't you threaten me, McCall. You…you…"

"Can stop right there. Don't want to add any more charges to the list, Sheriff, or it might just be former Sheriff after all."

There was a moment hesitation when everything stilled. Hard glares, muscles tense. Even the air was charged with electric anger. And then suddenly lightning struck. The two men collided in a heap, with arms flailing and legs kicking. Grunts and shouts erupted as flesh met flesh.

The two teens watched in awestruck horror for a long breath before moving into action themselves. Scott with his supernatural abilities was able to leverage himself into the scuffle without a problem. Unfortunately, after the Nogitsune, Stiles had yet to fully recover and ended up fairing far worse than he probably should have.

Next thing Stiles' knew he was falling backward and colliding with the trash can.

The trio continued to fight. Two lawmen determined to take the other down. And one werewolf desperate to break it up. If the situation hadn't been so serious it would have been quite comical to Stiles. From the ground, he called out fruitlessly, "Come on guys, stop it!" But they couldn't hear past the angry pounding of the hearts.

Stiles moved to get up and right the trashcan that he upset during his fall when something caught his eye. From under the bag, he noticed the paper with today's date. Curious, he retrieved it and read the headline and immediately wished he hadn't. His heart sank into his gut. A smiling twelve year old girl stared up at him. Slowly, her expression morphed in an accusing glare. "You killed me!" She screamed at him.

His vision blurred. Eyes stung. A sob rattled his chest. The words that poured from his lips would never be enough. "I'm sorry. I'ms'ry, I'ms'ry,I'ms'ry! I didn't mean to. I'M SORRY!"

The heart-wrenching cry froze the others in their tracks. For a horrifying moment, they watched Stiles fling the paper away like it burned him and grab his head. He began rocking back and forth mumbling the apology over and over. The Sheriff forgot all about McCall, his focus solely on his son.

Rushing to the distraught teen's side, Stilinski fell to his knees and wrapped the boy in his arms. "Stiles, it wasn't you. It's not your fault. Please, son, please." He didn't know exactly what he was begging for, he just knew he wanted what the Nogitsune did to just go away and leave his son alone. Hadn't Stiles suffered enough? Dammit! "It wasn't you," his voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "It wasn't you."

Scott was torn. He didn't know what to do as he hovered over the crying pair. He wanted to take the pain away. Make everything alright again. But it wasn't. It never would be. Besides, his abilities didn't work on emotional pain. There was nothing he could do but watch his friend crumble.

Agent McCall gathered himself up and took in the grim scene before him. He had never really liked the spastic kid his son hung out with, but that didn't mean he wanted to see Stiles like this. He could see something was very wrong with the boy. The agent in him was certain that Stiles had a hand in the recent chaos but the father in him easily read the pain and guilt written over every inch of the teen. This was no criminal master mind. This was something else he had never seen before. Even he had doubts.

But what could he do? He was honor bound to the system. He didn't have the luxury of opinions - choice. Only facts, witnesses and evidence. Taking the next logical step and reaching conclusions. Go through the motions to uncover the truth. And based on what he had so far, the truth led him here. No, no choice. Clearing his throat, he steeled himself for the task at hand. "I have to take him in for questioning."

The Sheriff practically snarled. "Stiles is in no condition to answer your questions, McCall. He stays."

"You know I can't leave without him."

"And I won't let you leave with him. Looks like we're at an impasse."

Sighing, the government man ran a hand through his hair. They really weren't getting anywhere. And he really didn't want to have to call in back up. Not like he would receive much support. He still had to rely on the Sheriff's men on this case and most of them were not pleased when he said he was bringing Stiles in for questioning. They all respected their chief and most knew his son very well. Needless to say, they were not going to be much help.

During the brief reprieve, the sobs echoing through his chest slowly stilled. Stiles slowly detached himself from the world and the emotions that came with it. His gaze settled on the front page and those smiling eyes looked back at him. He personally may not have been the one to end her life. But he was still accountable. When Deaton first suggested the replacement sacrifice, they had willingly accepted the consequences to save their parents.

They had opened the door. He had invited that foul creature in. And he must face the repercussions. No more would he allow others to suffer. Making a decision, he carefully pulled out of his father's embrace. His body shuddered from the chill of dawn that replaced the love and warmth. He didn't deserve such kindness. Adamantly ignoring the concerned look on his father's face, Stiles turned his attention to the FBI Agent as he stood. "I'll go with you."

"What?!" "No!" Stilinski and Scott shouted at the same time.

"I'll go. It's just a few questions, right?"

Glad that someone finally saw reason, Rafael nodded. "Then you can go home."

Glancing at his house, caramel eyes traveled down to Scott and then his father. Deep down he had the feeling he would not be back for a while. And somehow he was alright with that. He held his hands out to the agent waiting for cold metal to circle his wrists.

Jumping up, the Sheriff wouldn't accept what was happening. "No, Stiles, no! I won't let you. You didn't do anything wrong!" Stilinski was barely holding it together. It was like that night he was dropping Stiles off at Eichen house. It was wrong. All wrong! Not his boy. Not Claudia's son!

"It's ok, dad. It's ok." Stiles tried to reassure the man.

It didn't work. "This is not ok. This is far from ok." The Sheriff reached out for the teen, who took a step back. His heart couldn't take it. Breaking, he begged, "Please, Stiles, please don't go."

Unable to bear the pain present in those bright blue eyes, Stiles looked away. His best friend stood with the same tear filled expression. "Scott," he addressed his brother. "Take care of my dad. Promise you'll take care of him no matter what happens to me."

Choked up, Scott managed to get out, "I promise, Stiles. But you're coming back. You're coming back!"

Stiles offered them a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He couldn't speak. His throat refused to work now. It was probably a good thing too because he didn't want to give them false hope.

Rafael took Stiles' arm and started to pull him toward the black SUV. This was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life and he wanted it to be over as quickly as possible.

The stupor that rooted Stilinski in place suddenly broke. "Nonononono!" One instant he was standing in the walkway, the next he had scooped his child back into his arms. "Please, no, I can't lose you, I can't," he pleaded.

"I'm not dying dad. I'm still here."

"It's not fair. It's not."

"Heyheyhey, listen to me. Dad, we knew this could happen. They're just going to ask some questions. Nothing might come of it. I could be back in a few hours or … We have to let it run its course no matter what."

Drawing back, the older man grasped his son's face in his hands. Accepting for now the inevitable, he instructed, "You say nothing. You hear me? Nothing without me there. I'm gonna follow you to the station and we will get through this together."

"No dad, no. You can't be a part of this. This can't come back on you. Your job…"

"I don't give a shit about my job, Stiles! You are my son and I will stand with you no matter what. You say nothing. You are underage; a parent, guardian or advocate must be present. You wait for me. You understand?"

Deflating under those pain filled cerulean eyes, Stiles nodded. "I'll wait."

"Good boy. I'll be right behind you."

"Okay."

Raf opened the back door to the vehicle and waited as patiently as possible for them to finish. Sensing that it was over, he spoke, "Alright Stiles, let's go for a ride. You'll see your dad soon."

"Stiles!" Scott called to his brother only to stumble over his tongue. He was at a loss for words. The world had crashed in around them. They had lost Aiden. They had lost Allison. And now they were going to lose Stiles.

"Take care of my dad, Scott. He's going to need you." Stiles filled the gap. The door closed and Rafael took the driver's seat. Within moments the vehicle was pulling away.

A chill ran up the werewolf's spine. And he knew that even though they had defeated the Nogitsune, it had not finished with them. No, the chaos, pain and strife it had longed for clung to Beacon Hills like afoul stench. The trickster had set up the best trick of them all and it would have the last laugh.

- TW – TW – TW – TW –

Wow, my muse totally lied to me! Here I thought I would get a head start for next Friday's post and boom! She banged out this emotion packed chapter! I hope you liked it.

Uh, not going to say too much because there is a wicked lightning storm right on top of us. Barely saw the last flash before thunder roared.

Anyway, thank you all for the reviews, follows and faves! You rock!

Thanks for reading!

~Ari :D