"YOU CALLED MY DAD!" she hears herself shout. Malia's eyes are forced open and she's no longer standing in the blustery parking lot…she's in Stiles' room at Oldcastle.

Stiles drops a set of two-way radios into his duffle bag, and turns to look up at her.

"…I did." He admits. He had been moving around his room packing up surveillance equipment for work tonight, when Malia had come bursting into his room.

"YOU SCARED HIM OUT OF HIS MIND, STILES!"

Stiles purses his lips, "He should be scared."

"YOU DON'T JUST GET TO DO THAT!" Her eyes flash a feral blue at him, but Stiles is undeterred.

He shrugs and puts his hands on his hips. "Do what?"

Malia breathes through her nose and tries to steady her heart-rate. "You don't just get to decide what my dad knows about my life." she tells him in a low dangerous tone.

Stiles crosses his arms. "I told him that you need help and you won't listen to me, but maybe you'll listen to him—"

Malia rubs at her temples. "You can't just tell him things like that."

His jaw tenses. "—what I didn't tell him was that you almost died, when you drove your car off a 130-foot bridge!"

Malia looks up to glare at him "I healed."

Stiles shrugs. "…This time. But what about next time?" he asks, gruffly. "You're nightmares are getting worse—you're barely sleeping—you're working full time while trying to keep up your scholarship—you can't keep going like this."

"What do you want me to do?" she snaps, shrugging her shoulders and folding her arms. "I don't have the choices you have. I'm not smart like you are—" Stiles shakes his head.

"The hell you aren't!" he interrupts taking a step toward her.

"I need this job, Stiles! I need this scholarship!"

"AND I NEED YOU!" he yells, as all his anger finally crops up. Ever since the accident he had been so careful with her, he had never let her see how upset it had made him. He drops his eyes, his hands are shaking at his sides. The anger fades from Malia's eyes, and she takes a tentative step forward.

"Stiles…" she begins softly.

"Do you have any idea what it was like for me sitting there waiting for you to wake up?" he asks, his eyes cutting to hers. "Knowing that it was my fault you were lying there. Because I knew you were in trouble and I didn't do enough to stop it!" he says, jutting a finger toward his chest. Stiles folds his arms again and avoids her eyes.

His heart is beating too fast. And he smells like pain and fear. Because of her. Guilt twists uncomfortably in her stomach.

"Hey—hey look at me." She says, softly as she catches his face in her hands. Stiles turns his head and looks at her. Those big brown eyes of his are so unguarded that they completely undo her.

She brushes her thumb against his jaw, and Stiles ducks his head again. So Malia rises up on her toes and presses her forehead to his. "I'm sorry I scared you—I'm sorry." she whispers to him. Stiles sucks in a breath and leans his forehead against hers, his hands slipping up her arms to pull her closer. They hold each other for a moment as his heart-rate evens out. "I'll get it under control." She promises him.

Stiles pulls back to look down at her, his eyes gauging her carefully as he responds, "You're the strongest person I know…but you can't just will yourself through this. I think you should talk to Deaton. I think he could help you."

Her hands slide down off his face and she leans away from him. "No. This is something I have to do alone."

"Hey," Stiles hooks his knuckle under her chin and tilts her head up. "Whatever you're in I'm in. Remember?" he tells her with a warm smile.

Malia wraps her arms around herself and steps back from him. "Not with this, Stiles."

Stiles rakes a hand through his hair. "That's not how it works when you love somebody." Malia flinches at the word love and won't meet his eyes. After a moment Stiles reaches out to take her hand in his. He looks down at her hand and toys with her fingers, uncertainly, before trying to catch her eyes. "You-ah…you do love me, don't you?" he asks, softly.

Malia's whole body stiffens, except for her hand which trembles in his grasp. She takes a shaky breath, and pulls her hand away to push a lock of hair behind her ear. She still won't look at him.

Stiles clears his throat and nods "…Oh." he whispers.

Tears roll down Malia's face as she watches as the light that was in his eyes seconds ago, fades. This is the moment she hurt him the most—the moment she loses him.

"Stiles I can't…" she whispers brokenly, shaking her head she pushing him away and flees out the open door. She's blinded by tears as she leaps down the steps. She can hear him on the stairs following after her. But she dashes out the screen door and runs out into the rain.

"MALIA WAIT!" he calls after her. But she just kept running…

You couldn't tell him why you can't say it…but you can't hide it from me…I know why.

Malia snarls at the voice in her head, and thrashes with what little strength she has left. ENOUGH! IF YOU'RE GOING TO KILL ME…JUST DO IT ALREADY! She shouts.

... I KNOW WHY the voice taunts again and Malia's vision blurs. Every nerve ending aches and throbs as she finds herself in the backseat of a car. Malia's eyes widen. NO! NOT THIS! NOT THIS! She pleads helplessly.

She sees her nine year-old self. She's wearing a grass stained soccer uniform, and she has a split lip. She's been feeling irritable all day. She had never felt anything like this before. Her teeth are aching…her skin feels too tight. She groans and hugs her stomach. Her little sister Lindsay is beside her…Lindsay with her doll and her cute little braids. Malia digs her teeth into her split lip finding something satisfying about the pain.

"I don't know what's gotten into you." Her mom berates her from the front seat. "What did that girl ever do to you? She was on your own team!"

"She should have passed the ball…" Malia snarls, rubbing her head.

The car hits a pothole and Lindsay's doll flies from her arms and tumbles onto floor near Malia's feet.

"My dolly!" Lindsay whines pitifully straining to reach for it. Malia watches her younger self sneer and kick the doll under the passenger seat further out of her reach. Malia smacks at her nine year-old self, snarling "LEAVE HER ALONE!" But nobody can hear her—this is just a memory—she can't change anything.

"Malia! Give your sister back her doll." Her mom snaps. The younger Malia folds her arms and taunts Lindsay.

"Sorry. I can't reach it." she says, cruelly. Tears spring to Lindsay's eyes. And Malia can't stand it. She reaches out to touch her little sister, brushing her hand over her hair soothingly, even though she knows she can't actually feel it. "Ssh—ssh I'm so sorry, Linds." Malia whimpers "I'm so sorry."

"It's O.K. baby." Her mom coos from the front seat. Reaching her hand back she rubs Lindsay's knee gently, until the girl settles. "Just because you're sister is in a rotten mood doesn't mean we have to be." she says brightly. Malia looks up catching sight of her mom's eyes in the mirror. They are the gentlest…most beautiful eyes she had ever known.

Her mom reaches for the tape deck and fast-forwards to Lindsay's favourite song. Finding the right spot she cranks up the radio and Chuck Berry's Johnny B. Good rattles through the speakers. Lindsay makes a squeak of delight and sits up in her seat and her mom laughs. Her mom turns the steering wheel slightly making the car "dance" on the empty road. Malia watches her younger self jam her fingers in her ears and kick at the passenger seat.

Her mom catches her eyes in the rear-view mirror. "Keep it up." she warns. "You already have to tell your dad that you got kicked off your team for fighting…don't make it worse."

Nine year-old Malia's whole body is on fire. Her fingernails and toenails are throbbing. Sweat glistens on her forehead. Her ears are painfully sensitive and the rattle and hum of the speakers is excruciating.

She lets out a frustrated yowl. "AAHH! I WISH YOU WE'RE ALL DEAD!"

For a split second Malia's eyes lock with her mom's in the rear-view mirror and there's a flash of hurt in her mom's eyes.

Then she hears something whistle and crack against the windshield three times, then the car starts listing to one side. At first, Malia just thought her mom was playing around and making the car dance for Lindsay, again. Then she hears her mom's piercing scream. Malia's stomach drops as the car lurches into the air. Her bones and teeth rattling as the car pitches and tumbles down the steep embankment…slamming hard into the floor of the ravine.


Malia screams as hard as she can. It feels like water is being forced down her lungs and she thrashes and claws at the air fighting against the memory and the dark spector that forced her to relive it. She stiffens when…she hears a familiar voice.

"SHE'S OVER HERE!" it shouts.

Malia pries open her eyes and blinks blearily up at Cale Corban's dazzling blue eyes. It's then that she realizes she's standing in the exact same spot she was before she was attacked. Everything that had happened...It had all been in her head. She loses all the strength in her legs and starts to faint. Cale catches her in his arms and scoops her up. He touches her cheek softly, his face drawn with concern. "Hey, it's O.K. I've got you." He adjust his hold on her and starts carrying her out of the dark pathway.

Malia hears another voice from above her. "It can't have gotten far." One of them says. She forces her eyes open and sees a very serious looking, Hodge staring down at her. "Take her inside. Make sure she's O.K." He instructs Cale. "The rest of you are coming with me."


Something's wrong. He knows it in his gut. He's being irrational right now, but he just doesn't care. They should have found her by now. Stiles moves with purpose, his sharp eyes cutting through the crowd. Malia's a big girl. He reminds himself. And they had just got into a pretty heated fight. She probably went to go cool off somewhere. There has to be a perfectly logical reason for why Scott can't seem to pick up her trail. And there has to be a reason why she's ignoring all of Lydia's and Kira's text messages.

But Stiles can't help feeling on edge. You're just being paranoid. He chides himself. This is what Malia does when she's upset. She runs. But his suspicions are confirmed, when Scott begins to sense something out of place at the party. A dark foreboding presence, with a strong scent is lurking somewhere nearby. They decide to quietly regroup with the rest of the pack, and make sure they are alright. They find Lydia and Kira easily enough…but there is still no trace of Malia. So they split up to cover more ground.

He's circled the house a half dozen times by now, and he's no closer to finding her. Shouldering his way through the crowd, he makes his way to the foot of the stairs. Stiles grabs onto a baluster and hoists himself up, craning his neck, he scans the crowd with careful eyes. There's still no sign of her. Stiles drops back down on his feet and reaches for his phone.

Still nothing from the others. Stiles gnaws on his lip, as he scrolls through his contacts. He stops for a moment, his thumb hovering above her picture. Then he swallows down the last of his pride, as he taps her name, and punches out an awkward text.

Look, I know you're pissed at me.

But something's up.

I just need to know you're somewhere safe.

He knows it's a long shot. But he finds himself praying to see some ellipses. He watches the screen with baited breath until the backlight on his phone dims, and his nervousness ratchets up a few notches. Stiles blows out a breath and rubs at the back of his neck.

"STILES!" Kaley shouts, from behind him.

He spins toward her and sees her wrestling her way through the crowd to get to him. She grabs his arm and starts pulling him with her. "I just saw some guy carrying Malia through the back door. She looked really out of it, Stiles." Blood starts rushing in his ears. Oh No!

Kaley leads Stiles back through the house. "This is where they took her." she says, as she stops in front of the kitchen's swing door.

Stiles doesn't slow down, he plows straight ahead and collides with the door. With a grunt, his head snaps back and he falls back half a step. Splaying his hand on the door he shoves with more force. The door rattles in its frame but won't dislodge.

"Why would they lock the door?" he mutters, to himself.

Kaley pales. "Something felt off about the guys who brought her in – They wouldn't let me talk to her."

The skin at the back of his neck prickles. Why do I always have to be right? Stiles brings up his fist, and pounds against the door.

"HEY!" he shouts, over the music "OPEN UP!" There's no answer from the other side. Stiles passes his phone to Kaley. "Call, Scott." He instructs. As she dials, Stiles slams his fist harder against the door. "I KNOW YOU'VE GOT MY FRIEND IN THERE! MALIA?—MAL, CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

Suddenly the door cracks open a few inches, revealing a towering young man with earthy-green eyes and a scar on his chin. "Whoa. Take it easy, Man. She's O.K." The young giant tells him.

Stiles shifts on his feet straining to see into the room. "Where is she?" he demands. The guy behind the door, holds open the door a little wider. His eyes widen as he sees Malia stretched out on the kitchen table. She isn't moving.

"Malia?" he says, softly as he instinctively steps toward her. But the guy with the earthy-green eyes isn't moving. "What happened to her?" he asks, as his eyes stay glued to her prone form.

The guy behind the door plasters on a reassuring smile. "Look, my friend's a paramedic, he just went to get his kit, and he's gonna check her out. She probably just had too much to drink." He says, with a wave of his hand.

Stiles narrows his eyes. "Malia doesn't drink." The fake smile on the guy behind the door morphs into a look of annoyance. Stiles steps forward. "Now, get the hell out of my way." he growls.

The guy with the earthy-green eyes shoves Stiles out of the doorway with surprising force, and slams the door. Stiles regains his balance and launches himself against the door. The door rattles but holds. Stiles backs up and forces his shoulder against the door again.

"Scott isn't answering." Kaley says, her tone rising with urgency. Stiles curses and kicks the door. Breathing heavily, he skims his hands along the door searching for where there bolt would latch on the other side. Then he stills as something occurs to him.

"The baseball bat." Stiles thinks aloud.

"What?"

"There's a baseball bat in the hall closet upstairs." Stiles says, as he starts for the stairs. Kaley follows after him. They take the stairs two at a time knocking people out of their way as they go. Stiles skids around the corner on the third floor, rushing for the closet.

He sees something just out of the corner of his eye, right before he's struck from behind. Stiles hits the floor, his ears ringing. He blinks trying to clear his vision. Lifting his head he finds a familiar Delta Phi standing over him, a guy named Rhodes. The same one who had caught him climbing in through the window. Over the ringing in his ears, he can just make out Kaley's voice. Stiles grits his teeth and climbs to his feet. He sways slightly, as he finds his footing. Rhodes had sucker-punched him in the ear.

"You think we're just gonna let you walk in here and prank our house, Stilinski?" Rhodes growls.

Stiles presses a hand to the back of his head, and winces. "What are you talking about?" he rumbles, confused.

"Stiles, watch out!" Kaley tries to warn. But before he can move another Delta Phi has already come up behind him and hooked his arms behind his back.

Stiles struggles against their hold. "Hey! Get off of me!"

Rhodes punches him square in the jaw, and his head whips to the side. His ears are ringing again. Stiles shakes his head, to clear it. When his vision clears he sees Kaley jumping between him and Rhodes. He can tells she's yelling but he can't make out what she's saying at first.

"WHA…TH…HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!" she yells. Kaley presses her back to Stiles' chest shielding him from Rhodes.

Rhodes brushes Kaley out of his way, and grabs Stiles by his shirt. He's winding up to punch him in the gut when Kaley calls out.

"Go ahead—hit him." she dares "But I hope he's worth getting expelled for…" Stiles sluggishly lifts his head and looks to Kaley. She's holding her phone right up in Rhodes face, filming the whole thing. Rhodes goes for her and Stiles jerks forward to stop him, but the guy behind him holds him back. Rhodes knocks the cellphone out of Kaley's hand, and he shoves her. Kaley stumbles back and falls against the wall.

"RHODES!" Stiles wrestles his way forward a few feet. "Leave her alone." he snarls. Kaley hops to her feet and glares at Rhodes. Her fist curls up tight at her side, ready for a fight.

"Kaley, go find, Scott!" Stiles urges. "You gotta tell him Malia's in trouble."

"But what about—"

"Don't worry about me. Just go." He dismisses.

"—Stiles I'm not just gonna leave you."

"Kaley, go!" Stiles insists.

Kaley throws up her hands in exasperation. "Fine—fine I'm going." she grumbles. "But you," she says pointing at Stiles. "Try not to get killed, while I'm gone." Then she jabs her finger at Rhodes. "And you," she glowers. "O-Oh, I'm coming back for you." she promises, with a menacing tone. Kaley gives Stiles one final worried glance, before dashing back toward the stairs. Stiles feels a bit of relief knowing that Kaley will get to Scott. But the feeling lasts for all of ten seconds before Rhodes slams his fist into his gut.

Stiles doubles over, his eyes watering as the air is forced from his lungs. His lungs burn and his brain scrambles to remember some of the moves his boss, Joe Garrity had taught him. Right, I just got to get him to come a bit closer.

"Wha…What are the ch…chances we speed this up?" Stiles wheezes. "I've...I've gotta get back to my friend she's in trouble."

Rhodes rolls his shoulders. "Don't worry, Stilinski, at this rate you aren't gonna last very long."

Stiles snaps forward, dragging the Delta Phi at his back with him. "Oh, yeah?" he challenges, his eyes dark and menacing. "Get your trained monkey off my back and we'll see how long you stay standing."

Rhodes flashes a smile right before he drills his fist into his side. "Naw, I like you right where you are." Stiles drops his head hissing through his teeth. "I saw your girlfriend dancing tonight, Stilinski." Rhodes taunts. "She's a wild little thing, isn't she?"

Stiles stiffens, his head shooting up. "Leave her out of this." he says through his teeth.

"She's got that hot little body, and legs for miles. But her eyes, her eyes kill me they're so innocent. I bet she's real innocent until you get to know her, right?" Rhodes chuckles darkly, goading him on.

Stiles' jaw twitches as he glares coldly at Rhodes. "Don't talk about her like that." he warns.

"I saw her with one of the guys, and they looked pretty friendly." he says, with a grin. "So how does it feel, huh? Knowing that she could be out there right now giving it up to one of my buddies?" he asks as he inches into his space. Stiles smirks grimly seeing his chance. That's close enough, asshole.

"Something like this." Stiles quips, right before he slams his head into Rhodes' face. The big Delta Phi roars and staggers back, holding his nose. Stiles quickly, locks his leg around the other Delta Phi's ankle. He steps back, forcing the guy off balance and frees his arms. Then Stiles turns out and throws the guy to the ground.

Rhodes shakes his head and with a growl he launches himself at him. Stiles shifts his weight onto his back foot, clenches his fist and waits. He throws a perfectly timed punch and Rhodes barrels right into it. His head whips to the side and he hits the ground, hard.

Stiles sniffs and wipes the blood off his mouth with the back of his hand. He crosses to the closet and grabs the baseball bat. Holding it loosely in his grip, he turns around and looks between the two Delta Phis. Rhodes is still on his back groaning, and the other one is hissing and gripping his ankle.

Stiles crouches down above Rhodes, his hands folded on the knob of the bat. "You sucker-punched me - I knocked you on your ass. We're even. But if she gets hurt because you got in my way. Then you're gonna need more than him," he says jutting his chin toward the other Delta Phi, "To protect you."

Straightening, Stiles flips the bat catching it by the barrel, and strides for the stairs.