For the thousandth time in the last thirty hours, Scott's phone buzzed in his pants. This time, the werewolf didn't bother fishing it out of his pocket, he was perfectly aware of who was calling. The stringing melody echoed between the car's wall for a couple of seconds before dying out. Just like it had the times before.

"You could at least make up a lie" Derek commented to his left.

Even though Scott knew Derek's hadn't parted his eyes from the freeway before them, Scott turned his gaze from the green fields to his grumpy companion.

"And tell them what, exactly?" Scott asked "That we are shopping in Sacramento? The sheriff would immediately know what we're up to."

Derek's eyes briefly brushed Scott "What did you tell your mom?"

Feeling guilt fall on his chest, Scott turned to look again at the window "That you were going to teach me werewolf-stuff"

"Werewolf-stuff?"

Scott decided to ignore the incredulity and mocking in that sentence.

"She knows something's wrong" Scott explained, remembering their conversation a day ago "She thinks this will make me feel better"

Derek took in a deep breath "Let's hope it will"

When he had been ten, Scott had fallen off a tree. Stiles had dared him to climb as high as he could, and naïve Scott had accepted. He had been a bit more than two meters above the ground when a branch had snapped beneath his grip. Not being able to react quickly enough, he hadn't had time to wrap his arms around the bark. Instead, he had accelerated full speed towards the ground, crashing on the dirt on his left side. Pain had exploded all over his body and he had cried and jelled and screamed.

Stiles had rushed to his side to help him, his mom had come, he had been taken to the hospital. The entirety of his left side had been plagued by bruises, making a simple effort like raising his hand, agony seize his body. His leg had also broken, condemning him to four weeks of boring torture.

Never, even when he had become a werewolf and gotten his butt served far too many times, had he felt as bad as during those weeks. Maybe the memory was worse than it had really been, but Scott had hated every agonizingly slow second of that month.

The pain he was feeling now was far worse.

It wasn't physical pain. His body was in fact in a perfect state. Aside from the raising heat in his vision, his throbbing heart and the blood pumping rapidly in his ears, Scott felt like any other day.

But damn did it hurt.

His hands clenched into fists, as he stared at the closed glass door. There was nothing behind it, just an empty, void white room with a chair and table here and there.

There was no counter, no sofas, no shelves, no books. Not a single soul.

The sign that should've been above their heads had also disappeared. There was not a single hint of a bookshop ever being here. Before him was an abandoned floor.

The only lead they had on finding the truth behind Stiles' disappearance had been relinquished.

Alpha and Beta stood paralyzed for minutes, or it could've been hours really. Time didn't seem to mean anything. In fact, nothing seemed to mean anything at all.

Finally, Scott found the strength to return to reality.

"What now?" he whispered, still staring at the empty room enclosed by white walls.

Derek shook his head. He was probably feeling as helpless and disappointed as Scott was. Not talking about the crushing weight over their chests.

However, Scott soon noticed the werewolf wasn't willing to give up that easily. Without giving a single explanation to Scott, he stormed away. It took Scott a moment to realize he was walking towards the small grocery store across the street.

Soon, Scott reached Derek's side and together they entered the store. It was humble and small, only having the necessary for a quick emergency shopping. A few shelves were lined up, leading to the cashier behind a counter.

She was older than Derek, about thirty years old. Apparently, not much happened around here for her eyes brightened when she spotted the two customers walking towards her.

Scott quickly realized what Derek's plan was. Contrasting the Beta, Scott wasn't a grumpy, highly emotional being without a brain. Running up to her and demanding answers wouldn't get them very far.

Acting quickly, Scott grabbed the thing closest to him from a shelf, which happened to be two bottles of water. About a meter before Derek reached the cashier, Scott quickened his pace and (luckily) arrived at the counter first.

He placed the two bottles in front of him and smiled at the cashier. His eyes travelled down at her name-tag. Leslie.

Leslie seemed confused for a second and her gaze shifted from Scott to Derek. However, in a matter of seconds, she shrugged and took one bottle to start typing into her machine.

It was now or never.

"Can I ask you something?" Scott asked casually and leaned on the counter "My friend and I are not from around here and I think we got pretty lost"

Leslie looked up from the small display in front of her. She clicked on a key of the keyboard in front of her before looking at Scott and smiled warmly.

"Of course." she answered.

"We were looking for a bookshop" Scott tried to sound normal in spite of his heart racing "I think it was called Laureen's magical books. Do you know where that is?"

Behind him, Derek shifted slightly. Scott thanked God Derek had understood what he was doing and had decided not to intervene.

Something similar to disgust flashed across Leslie's eyes for a second.

"You're not lost" she answered, quickly returning to her cheerful smile "The shop was just across the street. It closed a while ago, though"

Derek leaned closer behind Scott "Do you know what happened?"

Leslie looked at him for a second, then she shook her head. "Not really, Laureen just didn't come in one day. About two years ago, maybe even less"

Scott's back tensed.

Could it be a coincidence?

Leslie shrugged, not noticing their reaction and ducked for a second to get a red plastic bag from under the counter.

As she started packing the bottles, Derek decided to speak up again.

"What about the people that went there?" he asked, "Did they tell you anything?"

As she handed Scott the red bag, Leslie eyed Derek with distrust.

"It's not like those people were the most social ones" she commented.

Scott frowned "What do you mean?"

"They were weird in the best case" she answered. For a moment she seemed lost in her thoughts, then she shook her head "I always wondered what kind of books she sold. The people that always came, they were… well, they weren't normal"

Scott's hands closed around the bag. A darkness above him threatened to swallow his heart with a new wave of disappointment. Pushing it back, he decided that leaving was the best thing he could do.

Just when he was about to say his goodbye and leave the shop with Derek, a voice in the back of his mind made him stop.

"Would you happen to know where to find any of them?" he asked "Anyone that knows anything about that shop?"

The ceiling crushed Scott underneath its weight when the girl shook her head.

"Wait" her eyes suddenly gained a new colour "There's this bar, not far away from here. I've seen one of what used to be her frequent customers take a beer there. If you're lucky, he's there right now"

When Scott and Derek walked into the bar, they had doubted the vague description Leslie had given them would be enough to find their man. About forty, blonde military cut and hollow brown eyes. She remembered him always wearing thick sweatpants and a dirty white hoodie. When she had described him, Leslie had seemed everything but fond of that man.

Although she had done her best, Scott had still doubted they would be able to find the man. It was already seven o'clock in the evening and there was a high chance that the bar would be filled like a bottle.

However, all his worries were subdued a second after he had entered the bar.

Judging by the way Derek's body froze next to him, Scott guessed that the werewolf had found the same thing he had.

"One more time!" a man in a white, almost grey, sweatshirt yelled in the crowd "Ain't gonna lose today. Wanta see m'luck up close?"

Scott grimaced in disgust at the man he was seeing. In the furthest corner from the entrance was a round table surrounded by chairs. Half sitting and half laying on those chairs were about seven men and some women wearing surprisingly small clothes standing and sitting around them.

Cards fell on the table, as did coins and bills. The man in the white sweatshirt extended his arms and enclosed a heap of coins. Clearly enjoying the moment, he pulled them closer, adding quite an amount to the already considerably big mount of coins in front of him.

A woman in a gleaming blue dress was sitting on his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck and her eyes locked on his lips.

"Ain't nothing but a cheater, Bart!" another man on the table said "Gimme my money back!"

The blue dressed woman looked at the man like he was an ant beneath her boot "The baby can't handle losing?"

Evil laughter exploded from every corner of the table. The man was brought to silence. Glasses were filled again, and another round began.

Derek's hand fell on Scott's shoulder "Come on"

Scott really hoped this wasn't the man they were looking for. However, his very own eyes proved that this had to be the customer Leslie had talked about.

As they walked closer, Scott observed him carefully. When the cards were being shuffled, Bart gazed at the deck with utter concentration and wrinkles between his eyes. Then, when the cards started to fly in front of them, he waved his hand however slightly. No one noticed it moving beneath the table. But Scott could've sworn he saw the deck of cards shift. It got thicker and shallower several times in the blink of an eye.

Finally, when all the players were looking at their cards and Bart grinned mischievously, that was when Scott knew it was him.

Quickening their pace, the werewolves made their way to the table. No one even bothered to look at them, the game was attracting everyone's attention. By the time Derek reached Bart's side, he had uncovered his game.

Full house.

As Bart laughed pleased and the woman leaned down to connect her lips with his, Derek tapped his shoulder. Scott was glad Derek had decided to be the one to speak up. His strong built body and muscles would get him the respect he needed, whereas Scott doubted he would've been taken seriously. He would've most probably gotten beaten up for interrupting the game. Not that they would come out of it unharmed, but Scott knew he didn't look as old as he sometimes would like to.

"We need to talk" Derek stated coldly, not caring that the man hadn't turned around.

Not bothering to look up from his game, Bart scoffed "Piss off"

One second, Scott doubted if Derek would really walk away. No one was even acknowledging his existence, there was no chance he was going to get any of the players, much less the best one, to talk to him. The heap of money kept growing, making Scott doubt if that man ever got anything but the things he wanted. Meanwhile, the blue-dressed woman eyed Derek slowly with a derogatory frown, urging him to walk away.

Responding to this, there was anger in Derek's eyes. With utter confidence, he leaned forward and whispered something into the man's ear so quietly that even Scott couldn't understand.

Whatever it was, it had an immediate effect on him. Bart's eyes widened, and his spine straightened. With fright and bewilderment in his eyes, he finally leaned back to look at Derek who only raised his eyebrows intriguingly. Somehow, the game and the woman didn't seem to be on Bart's mind anymore.

"What the hell did you tell him?" Scott asked Derek in a whisper as he took a seat next to said werewolf.

In front of them, Bart was holding a glass full of liquor and looking at them with something between respect and hate. It didn't seem like he was eager to talk. Most probably, he wouldn't get a chance to return to his easy victories since another man had taken his place and his blue-dressed companion.

Derek chose to ignore Bart's situation.

"I asked him what his friends would think if they found out about his spark" he answered Scott, not caring about the man glaring at him.

Scott raised his eyebrows, somehow glad he had taken Derek with him. He hadn't been aware of Derek's manipulation skills. It had been something as obvious as the sun rising that Bart had used some sort of… thing to win. Since this man had some connection to Laureen, it had to be a spark. Using this knowledge to their advantage was one of the smartest things they could do.

The bar wasn't very full here. Most of the action was happening on the other corner of the bar, where the blue-dressed woman was whispering something into another man's ear. Glasses were being filled and cards shuffled. Whatever the case, things were different here. The round metallic tables were used by quieter clients who only wanted a drink and have a good time with their friends.

Eyeing the table he longed for, Bart spoke without really paying attention "Whatcha want?"

"What do you know about Laureen's book shop?" Scott got straight to the point. He wondered why his heart throbbed in his chest every time he asked about that damn shop.

Apparently, his body wasn't the only one that reacted that strongly to the woman's shop. Bart's head snapped at Scott, every drop of alcohol had evaporated out of his body. His eyes were crystal-clear when they dug into Scott's. There was something in them, something Scott couldn't place exactly.

He stared at Scott for a second, maybe with anger or surprise or bafflement. Whatever the case, the man seemed to be waiting for something. If Scott didn't think of him as a total idiot only interested in money, he might have thought he was thinking.

When the silence was starting to get thick, Bart's eyes jumped to Derek and then back to Scott. What he did next was the last thing Scott expected.

He laughed.

It wasn't uncontrolled or sincere, it wasn't honest. It was smeared with superiority and mocking. Shaking his head, Bart brought his glass back to his lips and drank its entire content on one gulp.

"You ain't got an idea what you're messing with, right boy?" he asked when his glass was back on the table.

It bothered Scott to know that the man was right. He had no idea what he was talking about. That was why he was asking.

Scott clenched his fists under the table.

"What happened to it?" his voice was hard as a stone.

The man leaned forward over the table "Ever heard of The Dollmaker?"

Scott immediately turned to look at Derek next to him, wanting to see if that name meant anything to him. Because to Scott, the name was as foreign as Bart had been to him a couple of minutes ago.

However, there was nothing in Derek's eyes. No recognition, no enlightenment, only confusion hidden behind a face of stone.

Their exchange of glances was answer enough to the man, he leaned back on his chair. Scoffing and yet laughing at the same time.

"Listen, kid" his voice suddenly turned dead serious "That's someone you don't mess with, get it? You don't know about him, celebrate your luck. Don't dig any further, he'll find out"

If those words did one thing, it was inciting Scott into asking. His curiosity was threatening to explode out of him.

The same thing happened to Derek.

"Who is he?" he asked the man.

Bart didn't say anything for a second, then he shook his head decisively "Not telling" he finally answered "You can tell them I cheated, I don't give a shit. I'd rather lose everything I got, and not have him behind my back"

Derek and Scott exchanged another glance. It dawned on them at the same time that this might be more serious than what they had initially thought. Whatever the case, Stiles' face was enough for Scott to not care about how powerful that Dollmaker was. He wanted answers.

"What about Laureen?" he asked Bart "What happened to her?"

Something new glimpsed for a second in the man's eyes. Something like respect.

"You've got guts, I'll give you that" he replied, then he leaned forward "She had this shop, helped people like us. It's a rumour but… She met one of his minions… The Dollmakers'. She tried to oppose to him, defending someone he was trying to catch" he shrugged "She lost, like everyone does against him. She knew staying there wasn't safe, nothing is when it comes to him. It was a few weeks, then she was gone"

Scott looked at the man for a second "And you?" he found himself asking, not knowing why "Why aren't you running like her?"

Bart drew a grimace "I'm not stupid" he answered "You do what he says, nothing happens. He doesn't want anything from me, so I get to be safe as long as I don't mess with him"

It was a couple of minutes later that Derek and Scott walked out of the club. None of them wanted to talk about what they had just discovered. It seemed like a curse upon their heads. Every time they had hoped to get something, just something that reassembled an answer, they had only gotten more questions.

The Dollmaker? Who was he? Was there any chance that he had something to do with Stiles' disappearance? How did the circus fit into all of this? What had Stiles gotten into? Had he really lost his memories?

Question over question plagued his mind. So, what could be said right now? Should they talk about how many things they didn't know? List all of their questions just to find out they knew even less than what they thought?

Scott wouldn't do that to himself. Why was it so hard to find Stiles? No, to find out anything about him? They knew where he was, only a few hundred kilometres away but yet, he seemed to be inside an entirely different world.

For a second, Scott really doubted if it was all worth it. If the hope was worth it. When he had been a child, he had always been taught hope was good, hope was light. But that was only half the truth. Hope was a weapon that could cut deeper into flesh and make you bleed unlike anything else. Because there was nothing that tore his heart in as many pieces as realising it had all been for nothing. Having to see everything shatter to pieces in front of him. Losing Stiles again.

Maybe he should just let things be.

For both their sakes.

However, that same voice that had made him ask if Leslie knew if there was any customer they could talk to, that voice rose again. It reminded him of Stiles' eyes, his face, him. Stiles was alive. His best friend was alive.

That was enough to keep him going.

At least for now.

Scott was so submerged in his thoughts that he didn't realized a shadow had been following his footsteps.

It was when they had already entered the parking lot, that Scott and Derek noticed something was wrong. And it wasn't because of their heightened senses, or their own doing, in fact.

They noticed because suddenly, two silhouettes appeared in front of them. After that, it didn't take long for them to realize they weren't there accidentally. Derek's car wasn't far, but they wouldn't be able to get there without crossing paths with the two silhouettes.

Then, Scott glanced over his shoulder. Not because he expected someone to be there, but because it was his first instinct to do so. Which made the surprise rise in his chest when he noticed that another figure hidden in shadows was also approaching from behind.

He immediately halted and closed his hand in a tight grip around Derek's bicep. The other werewolf halted in the beat of a second, glancing at Scott with worry and yet determination. It only took a slight nodding of Scott in the direction from which the third figure was approaching, and Derek realized what was happening.

It took one quick scanning to confirm what Scott had already feared. The parking lot was almost empty. There were only a few cars abandoned for the night. Even the stars and moon were invisible because of the thick grey layer of clouds covering them.

The second Scott used to scan his surrounding was the second the three figures needed to get to their side. All of them were dressed similarly. Ripped jeans and a hoodie, only the colour changed.

Scott turned around to look at the shadow behind him wearing a black hoodie. He didn't know why, but he felt like this was the leader of the group. He was the one he would have to talk to get out of this.

In a few seconds he would know how he knew.

Following his example, Derek turned around to look at the same figure. He couldn't have been older than thirty.

"Is there a problem?" Derek asked and crossed his arms, looking at the figure.

Scott didn't say anything, but his straight spine, his defiantly raised chin and his tensed muscles spoke volumes for him.

"Actually, there is" the figure answered and pulled down his hood.

It wasn't a special face, not something Scott would remember. Hollowed cheeks, sharp cheekbones, lips drained of any colour. But the eyes…

They flashed yellow for a second.

Knowing what he was facing, Scott didn't bother hesitating anymore. As a response, his eyes also flashed. But his were red.

"You were saying?"

However, aside from a flicker in his eyes, the beta in front of him didn't seem intimidated by Scott's authority. If he was, he didn't show.

"We heard you are looking for The Dollmaker" he answered, crossing his arms "We want you to stop"

Derek raised his eyebrows, incredulous "Excuse me?"

The werewolf eyed him for a second "Who are you? You don't belong to any pack from around here"

For a second, Scott really doubted if it was smart to reveal their identities. They knew nothing about them and this pack was threatening them. However, Scott knew how much weight the words Hale and True Alpha carried. Maybe then, the werewolves in front of him would leave them alone.

"I'm Scott McCall, he's Derek Hale" Scott found himself saying before he knew it.

The werewolf did, in fact, seem surprised for a second. He had recognized the names. Then, he shook his head and the ice returned to his eyes.

"Doesn't matter who you are" he said but his voice was softer, with more respect "You can't go and mess around with things like that, not on our watch"

"Why?" Derek asked.

They had both realized this wasn't a menace to them. The three werewolves weren't here to attack them, but to talk to them. Maybe not in the friendliest way, but they were here to talk.

To talk them out of what they were doing.

Why did it seem like the entire universe was against them?

The werewolf raised his eyebrows "I'm Luke, from the local pack" he answered "We've known about this entire business for quite a while but have decided not to intervene. If that man ever found out about us…"

He didn't finish the sentence, but Scott wanted him to. What would he do? What? Why was everyone so afraid of him?

Before he could voice any of the questions broiling in his head, Luke spoke up again. "We don't want to start any sort of quarrel" he admitted, raising his palms in a peaceful gesture "Much less with a True Alpha and a Hale"

"Then what is your problem?" Derek snapped.

Luke shook his head "We can't let you ruin us" he admitted "Take this as a friendly warning. Don't get near the Dollmaker, because he won't be the only one to turn against you. If he finds out about us, you'll be the one we'll blame for what is to come"

There was not a word Scott understood about what the man was saying. He wanted to demand answers, to know what was going on. But he was trapped inside his mind. Trapped inside his questions and insecurities and confusion.

There was no need for more words to be spoken. Luke waved at his companions behind him. Quickly, the other two werewolves walked over to his side. With one last glance, Luke turned around and walked away, leaving Derek and Scott alone.

Yet, Scott had never felt so overwhelmed.

What...? How…? Why…?

Would the questions ever come to an end?

Twenty minutes later, Scott realized Derek was as sick of the raising number of questions as he was. When they approached the highway entrance there were to roads they could take. North or South

North towards Beacon Hills, home, their normal life. Scott didn't even bother thinking about the entrance, he knew which one Derek would take. He was probably as exhausted as Scott, they needed rest. Besides, they hadn't discussed any plans to go anywhere else.

But Derek chose South.

For a second Scott thought he hadn't paid enough attention or that he was hallucinating. He straightened up in his seat, looking over his shoulder at the way he thought they would take.

"What are you doing?" Scott didn't bother hiding his frustration.

Derek's eyes didn't leave the road for a second.

"I sick of this" he answered "I'm done talking to judging cashiers, drunken gamblers and a wannabe criminals. I'm going to get real answers"

When Scott looked up in that second, he understood.

The sign above his head told him enough.

San Francisco.

It was a two-hour drive, but it didn't bother Scott in the least. Suddenly, he was as awake as he hadn't been during the last two years.

It was almost ten o'clock when they arrived at the circus in the outskirts of San Francisco. As it had been in Sacramento, every source of light was dimmed by the clouds, leaving a blanket of darkness over the long path. Trees reached out with their arms as they drove past them, almost as if they were begging them to turn around and leave.

Derek and Scott didn't care about the abandoned parking lot, about the dead entrance and the deserted stands. The circus had closed for quite a while and was emptied of any sort of life. The children that had laughed, the colourful lights that had hung above their head and the sweet scent of candies weren't there.

The werewolves had decided to park as far back as they could and hide the car behind the shadow of trees. No one was supposed to know they were here. Only one person.

When they had jumped silently over the fence and made their way through the menacing shadows of the stands, everything had been silent.

Too silent.

It wasn't like Scott was an expert on life in a circus, but he was pretty sure, even after it had closed, that some people would still hang out and joke around, relax after a day of work. He expected to spot groups sitting around a table eating and drinking. He expected to see all of the artists meeting in a circle and talking.

None of that was the case.

There was not a single soul across the circus. It didn't take long for Scott and Derek to find trailers further back and even further away a few fancier-looking tents.

Both were hiding behind a stand, peeking from its edge to see if there was any, really any sign of movement before crossing one of the passageways and enter the living area. The yellow and black stripped tent was far behind them.

There were more than ten trailers near them, none of them looking very big. With white walls and probably three meters diameter, Scott wondered who lived there. A few hundred meters behind were trailers made of metal, with carpets and chairs before them. And very far to the back were a couple of tents, big and illuminated and colourful.

Derek pointed with his chin at the closest trailer. On the same second, both of them ran out of their cover, ducking their heads and curving their backs. When they arrived at the other side, they halted behind a white trailer.

"How do we find him?" Scott asked Derek in nothing more than a whisper.

Derek nodded at the trailers "We walk around, see if we get his scent"

Without any hesitation, Scott nodded. That had also been his plan. As they made their way across the unusually quiet trailers, Scott felt his heart beating heavily in his chest again.

Suddenly, a delicate hand closed around Scott's shoulder, stopping him from taking a step in any direction. Scott's muscles tensed, his chest tightened. In a matter of second he spun around, quickly followed by Derek.

They were met with green eyes.

Green eyes and long blond hair and a face they recognized. The psychic.

She wasn't wearing a dress anymore, instead she had pants and a long-sleeved pullover on her. The spark in her eyes and the twinge in her smile were gone. Every feature of her face was marked with tension.

Her furrowed eyebrows, her clenched teeth, her strong cheekbones. She looked like a totally different person.

Whatever happiness she had displayed two days ago was gone. In front of them was a soldier with eyes as firm as stone.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" she asked furiously, but whispering "Do you have any idea of what you are doing?"

They were standing behind the trailer, trees belonging to a nearby forest behind them. Since the trailers were placed to face each other in two long lines, Scott was sure there was no way she could've seen them. The werewolf had in fact, no idea where she had come from and how she had come so close without getting their attention.

"You're standing behind my trailer, dumbass" she spoke, surprising Scott "I was laying inside when I heard you"

It dawned on Scott as hard as a rock.

She really could read his mind. She had read his mind.

Her eyes suddenly snapped at Derek "No, the trailers aren't empty" she answered what Scott supposed Derek had been thinking "They are all… well, almost all occupied. At least these ones, I don't know about the minions'"

Before Scott had enough time to process what she had said, Derek spoke up.

"Let's talk, I don't appreciate having people inside my mind" he told her, crossing his arms.

The girl shook her head "There is no talking going to happen" she stated "You are leaving this circus right now, before anyone notices"

"Why?" Scott demanded to know.

She looked at him firmly "Listen, this isn't a joke"

"I never said it was one" Scott interrupted, getting angrier every second himself.

For one second, the girl glared at him without saying anything. Scott's skin tingled as the knowledge of her being able to look into his head loomed over him.

After a second, her eyes softened. She glanced over her shoulder quickly, as if she were making sure no one could see them.

"I know you want know what happened to Stiles" she whispered and leaned forward "But he told you, it's best if you leave. Please, believe me you'll only hurt him if you stay"

"Where is he?" Derek asked, not letting her change his conviction.

"He's not here" she replied quickly "And that makes you really lucky because if you had found him, everyone would've noticed"

Scott shook his head "Where is he?"

The girl looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, almost as if she were thinking about what to say.

"He's doing a job" she finally answered.

That didn't answer any of Scott's questions. "What kind of job?"

"He's out, doing a job for him" she confessed with loathing "For the owner of the circus, The Dollmaker"

Scott's eyes widened like he had just seen the impossible. His heart was about to explode inside his chest and there was only one word inside his mind.

The Dollmaker.

The owner of the circus.

The man everyone in Sacramento seemed to fear, the man that made a woman pack her things and simply abandon her life, the man that made a man willing to lose every penny he had gambled for, the man that made a werewolf turn against a true alpha.

There was fog everywhere, fog and fire and confusion. Scott wanted to know what was going on. He wanted to know what that man had to do with Stiles' disappearance. Why Stiles was doing a job for him. Why he was so powerful.

Suddenly, the motor of a car bellowed not too far away. After a few seconds, it grew silent. Various doors of a car were opened and then a voice cut its way through the darkness.

"Get to your trailers, now!" an oddly familiar voice said "You and I are going to have a chat about your little stunt"

Scott knew that voice. He just needed a second to place it…

"What are you waiting for? Go!" the voice yelled and soon, the crashing of dirt was to be heard, steps running away from the source of the voice.

Immediately, the girls' eyes drowned in fear "You need to leave, now!" she almost begged "Please, just leave."

Her head snapped over her shoulder and then back at the two werewolves repeatedly. She was clearly torn and desperate. After a second, she shook her head. Her shoulders slumped.

"I can't risk to stay here, I have to go" then, as silently as she had approached, she left. The trailer's door on the other side opened and then closed again.

Scott stared at Derek. Derek stared at Scott. None of them had any idea of what was happening.

However, when they heard two pairs of shoes approaching, their muscles froze. Not because they would get caught if they made any sound. Not because running away would've been impossible without being seen.

They stayed because they knew one of those shoes belonged to Stiles.

It was moments like this that Stiles could only wonder how stupid he was. What had he been thinking? What had he done? He had been supposed to do as he was told, but he hadn't. Instead, he had followed a voice he thought had left him long ago. He had listened to its advice and tried to do the right thing.

Now, he was going to pay for it.

Stiles swallowed hard, he hoped he would be the one to pay for it and not anyone else.

The Dollmaker's writing had burned itself into Stiles' retinas. There was no way he would forget that man's writing. The way Scott and Derek's name had turned into something horrible.

He was forced to return his thoughts when the firm hand closed around his arm threw him forward. It was still a mystery to Stiles how Marcus could handle and move people to their will. Not only their minds, but their bodies.

It was like he knew every muscle, every nerve, every way to force a body to do what he wanted, whether the victim liked it or not.

Therefor, Stiles had no idea how it happened but soon, his back hit the wall of a trailer. The construction shook insecurely when his weight crashed against it. Stiles hoped Melissa hadn't been sleeping, but he was almost sure she had waited awake for him.

However, the eyes burning with rage in front of him quickly attracted his attention back.

Marcus, taller, stronger and older than him, had cornered him against the wall.

"What the hell was that, Stillinski?" he asked furiously, and Stiles felt the heat accumulate around his wrists "Do you realize what would've happened if I had decided to fire that gun?"

Stiles stayed silent. Not because he was scared of Marcus or because he didn't have anything to say. The real reason was because his tongue was too busy biting down on his lip, trying to distract him from the increasing pain he was feeling after each second.

After not getting an answer, Marcus got closer. Stiles tried to step back but his head only hit the hard trailer behind him.

"Do you?" Marcus almost growled. At the same time the words left his mouth, a new wave of heat exploded around his wrists. It took Stiles so much by surprise, that he couldn't hold back anymore. He groaned in pain, wanting to get those god forsaken metal bracelets off him.

Satisfied, Marcus answered his own question "You would've made me look like a liar" he spat "You could've made The Dollmaker look like a liar."

Stiles hadn't thought. He hadn't considered what would happen. He had just remembered what it felt like… For a moment he had remembered what it felt like to do the right thing.

"After what happened with your friends" he spat the word like it was trash "We were expecting you to do as you were told, to obey and show us that you weren't stupid enough to get any foolish ideas after seeing them"

Marcus shook his head "The Dollmaker warned you when your friends left" he continued, his face centimetres away from Stiles' "I'll tell him what you did, and tomorrow he'll decided what to do. Seeing them clearly affected your brain in a way we can't afford"

A finger dug into his chest "Whatever he decides to do, you can rest assured that it will be your fault" Marcus promised "Not anyone else's. But yours"

The twenty-eight-year old man left Stiles alone in the darkness, with his head resting on the white cold wall. He didn't even notice when Marcus left, how he walked away, his mind was loaded with memories and fears and words.

It would be his fault.

The Dollmaker was going to make him pay for what he had done. He had lied to Marcus, lied to everyone. One second, he had thought he would be able to save a life.

Now, one would be lost.

And it would be one of them.

One of the three persons that mattered most to him.

Every strength he had somehow managed to retain in his body, left him at that recognition. His legs folded beneath his weight and, without really noticing, his back slid down the metal behind him until he was sitting on the grass.

Stiles rested his head on his knees.

What had he done?

The door of the trailer opened behind him. He didn't bother looking up, he didn't need to. Her light feet and silence were way too familiar to him.

She sat down next to him. A warm hand fell on his shoulder, pressing it with affection.

"What happened?" Melissa asked, her voice as sweet as it was when she talked to him.

Stiles took a deep breath "You know" he simply answered and looked up "You read my mind the moment I returned, why would you ask?"

She shrugged "Because talking about it might help"

Suddenly, Stiles noticed his hands were shaking. Trying to swallow the knot in his throat and ignore the burning in his eyes, Stiles looked up at the sky. It was grey and sad and hopeless.

Like his situation.

"Marcus threatened to kill the senator's wife" he told her what she already knew "The man refused to agree to The Dollmaker's terms and… Marcus was losing his patience. I thought he was really going to pull that trigger"

Stiles shrugged "I… changed the gun"

It meant a lot to Stiles that Melissa didn't tell him how stupid he was.

"When did he notice?"

"When we were about to leave, after the senator had given in" Stiles recalled the dreadful moment "I think Marcus wanted to fire at the sky, as a symbol, a warning. Show his power. When nothing happened, he knew it had been me"

After that, none of them said a word. There was no use. There was no comfort. They both knew what happened, they both knew what the Dollmaker was capable of doing. What he always did when someone disobeyed. It wasn't like his minions didn't smear it on their faces every time someone else made a mistake.

Now, it was Stiles' turn.

They sat together, knowing tomorrow would be horrible. Stiles wouldn't be the first one to fall victim of The Dollmaker's power. Nor would he be the last.

That was simply how things worked.

There was no way he could've known that two of the person's he was so afraid of losing were less than three meters behind him, having heard everything that had been said.

Scott and Derek stared at each other, not knowing how the world worked anymore.

Thank you very much for reading!

I hope you liked the chapter and enjoyed the read. Sorry if it took a little long to update.

Just that you know, Scott is already 18 in this fic. That's why he was able to get into the club. Stiles dissapeared when both were about 16.

Thank you for the reviews, dear people that reviewed the last chapter (AkaDeca and tyess). :D It really means a lot to me to know what you think.

I wish you all a very nice day,

Melpomene :D