So by this point you should know that it's not going to end nicely...so keep that in mind.


The next thing that Stiles knew he was staring at his front door. No, a cold dread settled in again. Not his Dad. That was the only reason they could be here was to attack his dad after attacking everyone else. But why? His Dad hadn't done anything. Then again neither had Isaac. Peter seemed to just be pissed off and taking it out on everyone connected to him that he could find. Not that knowing that made it any easier to bear. Please don't go in there. He begged silently as he started moving forward. Peter didn't listen and opened the door.

No! No! The first thing he saw was his father running towards him and Lydia just behind him.

No. No. Not her too. Not the two of them after everyone else. His Dad was the only family he had left. Lydia, he still loved, even if the two of them had fallen more into a friendship lately than the romance he had spent his whole life striving for. But that didn't mean that they weren't the two people he cared about in the world that were still alive. He wanted to warn to run away, to not believe whatever lies he was sure were about to come out of his lips but he couldn't. Like with everyone else, he was forced to just watch whatever was about to happen.

His father stopped for a moment just a few feet away from him. His eyes gave him the impression that he was worried about him, when what he really should be doing was running away from him.

"Stiles...what happened? Are you okay? Do we need to go the hospital? What happened?" He was looking down at what must be his shirt. How much blood did he have on it now? If his Dad noticed then Peter probably hadn't changed it from before, which meant it still had Argent's blood and probably Scott's too if no one else.

"It's not mine," his voice said trembling, Peter using it to pretend that he cared. He watched both his Dad and Lydia frown at that. Lydia frown deepened as she probably thought about what that meant.

"Stiles, if it's not your's, whose blood is it?" she asked and to her credit, her voice barely trembled.

"The question isn't who's blood is it. It's who's blood isn't it," his voice said dropping the false trembling and any pretense of being him, showing his true color. They both looked at him in disbelief but they both just stood there as he put his hand behind his back bringing it out the same gun that had been used to kill many of the others.

"Stiles what's going on?" his Dad asked putting up his hands, Lydia followed suit. She looked at him trying to look into his eyes. Maybe trying to figure out what was making him act this way. Run! He wanted to tell them. Run! His body would probably follow but maybe they could get away. They could leave him, leave Beacon Hills and live out the rest of the lives in peace.

He could tell though with a single look, his Dad was never going to leave him. Especially now that he seemed to be looking at him with the look he knew that meant his Dad had figured out that there was something not quite right about this whole situation, but hadn't exactly figured what was really going on yet. Lydia seemed to be on the same track, though it might take a little longer for her to get there. Brilliant Lydia was, but she didn't have as much experience with him as his Dad did and as much experience solving things as he did.

He wanted them to leave, to leave in one piece but neither of them moved. Their eyes focused on him, or more specifically on the gun in his hands.

"Stiles tell me what's going on," his father demanded though he didn't put his hands down. He wished he could tell him but Peter wouldn't let him.

"We can deal with it. Whatever it is," He wished it were that simple. That they could just hug it out and everything would be fine. But even if his Dad was to somehow break him from Peter's grasp, he wasn't sure even his Dad would be able to break him out of this. This guilt.

"I'm pretty sure even with your connections as Sheriff you can't make this all go away." He gestured with the gun towards his chest. "After all, I killed Isaac, Allison, her father and Scott after I made him kill Derek and his Mother. I'm pretty sure the first four can be clearly linked to this gun though that I have in my hands." Both his Dad and Lydia blanched when he spoke casually about killing them.

"What the hell are you and what have you done to my son?" His father barked sharply putting his hands down and stepping towards him when he was still a few feet Stiles body released the safety.

"Congratulations, you're the first to figure it out without any kind of hints,"

"I know my son, he's not a killer," his dad said looking at him defiantly." Peter using his voice made some tsking sounds before continuing.

"That's not exactly true. After all, he was with the others when they killed me which makes him a killer."

"And who are you?" His gaze turned towards Lydia who had asked the question.

"I'm the one who took a nibble out of you,"

"Peter," Lydia breathed, now sounding the appropriate amount of terrified. Peter had bitten her and then had almost managed to get her to rescue him but they managed to stop that in time. Maybe it would have been better though for them if they had allowed it to happen. If he had his own form, then he wouldn't be able to possess him and take everyone by surprise. It might also have brought him back before he had lost every part of him that used to be human.

"You're alive, but you're not a wolf," he said.

"I'm immune," she said after swallowing a few times. Lydia was as tough as nails when the chips went down. But it was smart to be scared, especially after Peter admitted to killing the rest of their circle of friends.

"Nobody is immune," his voice said sounding more than a little amused. He started walking around the two of them mostly looking at Lydia, only sparing his Dad a glance every time he so much as twitched.

"You must be something else? How rare? But what else?" Peter sounded quite fascinated in finding out what Lydia was. Stiles was pretty sure he knew as well as Lydia did and she certainly didn't know what she was. Peter circled closer and closer to Lydia till he was right in front of her. He ran Stiles' fingers through her hair and Lydia shrunk away from him.

"He loves you, you know," Stiles at this point didn't care much about him letting out his not too hidden secret. "But you only had eyes for Jackson," His face was brought closer to Lydia so that he could see her wide surprised eyes even clearer. He heard himself sigh and then turn around and suddenly his Dad let out a cry as Stiles' body shot his forearm.

"I wasn't done yet, please wait your turn like a good boy." He could hear his Dad curse and hiss at the pain. But before he could even see how bad the wound was, he turned back to Lydia who looked even more terrified. But he could also see the anger in her eyes as her eyes darted between his and his Dad's.

"So what's the plan?" She asked more calmly and with a lot of strength than he thought he could in her shoes.

"Well, I'm going to destroy everyone that had anything to do with this, if only by association. Guess who that list includes?" He said bringing his lips down to hers and kissing her unresponsive lips. He broke the kiss soon after with a sigh. "You're not making this very fun."

"Sorry to disappoint," she said with a little more fire.

"Maybe if I told you that the person was Jackson and you could save him?" Her eyes widened slightly but he could see that Peter had her attention.

"So you do still care about him? Interesting. What would you do to save him? Everyone in this room is going to suffer. Some sooner than others," he said pointing to his Dad, who had torn part of his sheriff's uniform off and wrapped it around the wound on his arm that was bleeding through the strips. Still, it wasn't a fatal wound, just one that had to hurt like hell. "But Jackson is far away. I might be persuaded to ignore his small part in this. Sfter all, he didn't really know what he was doing." He grabbed her arms firmly and then started kissing her again.

"If you want to save Jackson I'd start kissing back," he said suggestively. As much as he didn't like Jackson, and as much as he hated the thought of Lydia kissing Peter even if he was wearing his body, he understood when her lips hesitantly started moving, even as she made a face as she obviously didn't like it. The kiss broke a few seconds later. He grabbed her arms tighter and Lydia let out a cry. Peter was hurting her.

"Sorry, not good enough. I think I'm still going to have to kill him," he said nonchalantly, then tossed her backward with inhuman strength. She flew into the nearest wall. His attention turned to his Dad who was now holding a gun on him , even as his arm was steadily bleeding through the strips.

"What are you going to do?" His body stepped forwards fearlessly still holding his own gun.

"You know that Stiles isn't in possession of this scrawny body at the moment. If you shoot, all you'll be doing is killing your son. As for me? I'll jump into the least damaged body around. That would be either you or Lydia," he glanced over at her and saw that she hadn't yet gotten up from the floor near the wall.

"Maybe you then," he said returning his attention back to him.

"How the hell?" His dad asked bewildered, as he didn't even know about werewolves. Yet seemed to be taking possession better than he had ever expected, especially for not knowing anything about the supernatural.

"Exactly Hell. After a few centuries, you can take a form that can take possession of others. The process is extremely painful and your son, my nephew and Argents all put me there. They're all dead, except for Jackson but that will soon be remedied."

"Why us?" he spoke. Stiles wanted to know that too. Of anyone, they did the least. They weren't there and they hadn't even really known about it.

"Because you matter to him, both of you do and even though Stiles was not the most central part of my death, he was the best vessel for it. I've decided now that his punishment will be far worse than the others. Maybe that will teach him about the nature of the world and what happens when you refuse a gift." Wait? This about him refusing the bite? What?

"But mostly this is about pain, and I figure he's the kind of person who will really get this lesson," He had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but it didn't make him feel any better. His body brought up the gun a little as had fallen slightly to the side so that it was level with his Dad's head.

"Stiles, if you're anywhere in there-" What he was about to say he'd never know because two things happened at that moment. One, Lydia stood up from the wall and let out an ear piercing scream that made his ears hurt. Apparently even Peter noticed because his hands flew up to cup his ears... but it was one second too late as he had also pulled the trigger on the gun. Peter after a moment veered back in his Dad's direction. Only for a split second, though, just long enough to see him on the floor before he turned back to Lydia.

"Well that solves that mystery," his voice sounded excited. "You're a banshee. The things you could learn to do. Unfortunately learning to do them, would require you to live and I'm sorry but I can't have that happen. Still, we could have had great times, if only you hadn't denied me," his voice said, even creepier than it had before.

Lydia's eyes widened as a second shot split the air. Even as she collapsed to the ground her eyes stayed open. Peter turned his body to look at his father who looked to be still alive but not for much longer. He was going to watch the two people he still cared about die now. If Lydia wasn't already dead. He was started to feel something odd, something he couldn't put into words.

"I shot the sheriff but I did not shoot the deputy." Stiles voice sung nonchalantly. He didn't know how to respond to that. His voice came out again as the sound of distant sirens echoed in the background. Someone had probably called the cops when they had heard the first gun shot. How long ago had that been five minutes? Ten? An hour? Time was all starting to blur together.

"Well this was fun, but I have at least one more to go and I would take way too long to take your along, so you finally get to be free of me," Stiles' mouth opened and a large black stream of smoke exited his mouth. He was finally able to move again. Only the first thing he did with his new found ability was to collaspe, too weak to do anything else. He took in a deep breath before he looked up. He had to see if either of them was still alive. If either of them would make it long enough for the ambulances that he hoped were coming to help.

He looked up at Lydia first, only to gasp harshly and cover his mouth as he saw the shot had hit Lydia in the head right where her hair started. Her eyes were still open and unseeing. He swallowed harshly wanting to break down right then and there but if he could help his father he had to try. He looked and saw that his Dad was actually shot in the chest, not the head maybe Lydia's scream had jerked the shot slightly down. Not that it helped much because his chest was pumping blood into his shirt that entirely saturated by the blood at this point. He was trembling though so he might be in shock but he wasn't dead- yet. He dashed to his dad's side. He put pressure on the wound. All he had to do was get his Dad to hold on long enough for the sirens to reach them and they couldn't be that far off now.

"Dad! I'm so sorry!" he whispered to his Dad who gazed unseeingly at the ceiling. "Dad! Dad! Please don't go." His Dad was all he had left. Allison was gone. Isaac and Derek too. Scott was gone and so was Lydia. His Dad, was his whole world. He was in front of him and he couldn't lose him too. He couldn't be left all alone. The sirens were getting closer, only his Dad pulse was getting worse, not better. He felt for his Dad's pulse again only for his Dad to stop breathing- at the exact moment the cops busted in.