Derek vaguely remembered the many distant relatives who had suffocated him with attention during family get-togethers when he was a child as Stiles latched onto him like a koala bear. He gently pried Stiles off, looking the other way when he caught the look of disappointment on Stiles's face. Could this get any worse for him?

Drawing out his phone, Derek held up a finger to signal a quick call and fled out of the room. He sent out a group text to the Pack telling them to get to Deaton's now. He heard the steady click-clack of footsteps and turned to Deaton with an angry scowl. "His eyes. Why didn't you say anything." It wasn't more of question than it was an accusation.

Deaton shifted in his posture, eyebrows knitted together as if he was just as confused as Derek. Or maybe he's really good at not letting on what he truly knows.

"The appearance of his eyes was fine when I had checked. This is. . . disturbing, to put it in light terms. As I had feared, it seems that his condition is unlikely due to supernatural means. I can consult my records for any possible leads but, other than that, there's not much I can provide."

Derek grunted and stiffly pushed past Deaton to re-enter the backroom. Stiles was sat up on the operation table, carelessly swinging his legs as he stared at the jar of discarded medical needles across from him. He turned his head to the doorway when he heard someone walking in, grinning from ear to ear when he saw the broody werewolf.

"Come 'ere," he slurred with arms outstretched, making grabby hands to urge Derek closer. Derek felt his eye twitch and stood fixed in his spot at the doorway. He scanned the boy on the table, noticing that everything from his beaten converse to the moles splattered on his face screamed Stiles, but this, this wasn't the Stiles that he had come to tolerate over the last several years. The Stiles he knew definitely wouldn't want to hug Derek to kingdom come, regardless of whether he had been rescued in the middle of the woods.

"Derek," Stiles whined, looking dangerously like a baby about to throw a tantrum. "Come here, I miss yooouuuuu." Conflicted and somewhat terrified, Derek snapped to Deaton for help but the vet merely shrugged and motioned the wolf to fulfill Stiles's wish.

Right then, Erica and Isaac bursted through the clinic's door. "What's going on?" Erica asked as she made her way to Derek.

"Is there another body?" Isaac nervously added, fidgeting with his jeans, which was quite understandable. The Pack had been dealing with many gruesome discoveries in the past few weeks. First Belasko, then Tracy and the path of blood she had left in her wake, and the revelation that someone is conducting hybrid-supernatural experiments.

"It's Stiles," Derek informed. But then he saw the horrorstruck looks on his betas' faces and quickly corrected his choice of wording. "Oh-um, he's alive but there's a problem."

After Erica and Isaac had let out a breath of relief, Derek gave them the run down, leaving out the bits about Stiles's spontaneous need to touch him. The two teens were silent after that, letting it all soak in.

"How is he right now?" Erica whispered. They were gathered around the front counter, their forms hunched over in exhaustion. They had spent a great deal of time trying to make sense of the chimera situation and the fact that Stiles was attacked right after Donovan went missing, well, everything seems painfully daunting.

"He doesn't seem to be in pain and as far as we know, he doesn't have any broken bones. A few scratches but nothing big."

Isaac bit his nails in worry. "Shouldn't we be taking him to the hospital? We might have missed something." He shied away from any eye contact when he felt two pairs of glaring eyes boring into his head.

"We don't know what happened, whether it's connected to the chimeras, and we can't take the risk." Derek straightened up, stretching until he heard the distinctive pops in his back, and headed into the backroom once again. His two betas followed suit, all three of them staying by the doorway as Deaton asked Stiles some questions.

"—feel any physical discomfort, Stiles?" Deaton asked in that soothing voice of his.

"No, I feel fine. Just tired, I guess," Stiles blinked, unaware of the three's presence.

"Hmm, do you remember anything prior to waking up?"

Stiles scratched his head, a habit that Derek noticed he'd do whenever he was nervous or uncomfortable. "Yeah, I remember being buried in dirt." Derek tensed at that; there have been reports around town of multiple dirt pits appearing out of nowhere. "And I clawed my way to the surface. I was so tired after that, I couldn't move to get help," Stiles murmured. He turned away from Deaton's gaze and spotted the audience, his eyes instantly landing on Derek and brightening up.

Derek knew what Stiles was going to say next and braced himself next to his betas. Oh boy, here we go again, he thought, begrudgedly.

"Derek!" Stiles yelled joyously, stretching out the vowels in his name. It was like all the exhaustion had been drained out of Stiles's body, left with the exuberance of a bubbling, hyper child.

"Derek!" Stiles repeated, equally as loud, and Derek doesn't know if he had actually groaned out loud at that. "Come here, please?" Stiles smiled, showing teeth in faux innocence. Derek shifted on his feet, attempting to glare at Stiles into submission but the boy's bubbling excitement never faltered. He continued to glare at Stiles, head lowered a bit to amplify intimidation, until he felt a small push from behind.

Derek snapped his head, glowering at Erica's smirking face. "Go ahead, Derek. He said 'please', didn't he?" Erica taunted, a predatory glint in her eyes. He growled in warning, letting the red slowly bleed through his eyes. It had successfully shut her up but she still wore that infuriating smirk.

"Derek?" The question came from Stiles, confusion laced in his tone. Everyone's eyes were suddenly on Derek and that's when the universe decided to cut him some slack.

Scott and Kira bursted in, the former going straight to Stiles to make sure that his best friend was alright. Derek smelled blood on Kira and tensed. "What happened?"

"There was another chimera at Sinema. Th-they killed him before . . .we could bring him in," Kira shakily said, her eyes downcast and her heartbeat irregular, indicating to Derek that she was possibly hiding something.

He looked to Scott for confirmation and received a curt nod from the True Alpha. "His name was Lucas and he was only a year below us," Scott whispered forlornly, arms placed gently on Stiles's shoulders, his fussing momentarily ceased.

"What do we do?" Kira asked, a look of hopelessness overtaking her features. Derek locked eyes with Scott then subtly glanced at Stiles before focusing back on Scott, hoping that he'd get the message. Fortunately, Scott did. He let go of Stiles and cleared his throat. "Why don't you get some rest, buddy? You look like you could really use it," the Alpha soothed. Derek walked out before he could hear any more, mind already whirling with the steps they should take next.

"They've already killed two of their experiments, not to mention how many there actually are. And we don't even know what they want," Erica shouted, arms raised in exasperation.

Scott stepped forward, shoulders tense and stance unwavering. "We'll find out what happened to Stiles and also get to the bottom of these experiments. We can do it," he stated firmly.