Lydia groans as she slowly becomes aware of her surroundings. Her head is pounding and she holds a hand to it as she sits up from the concrete floor. She's in the school's basement, and she's not alone. Lydia can hear the muffled pacing of the Berserker that attacked her down the hallway.

It could have killed her, but it didn't. It wants her here. She stands up and looks around. Her purse is gone. And her phone. Lydia sighs and leans against the wall. She feels slightly dizzy, but the feeling is overpowered by the sinking weight in her chest. A terrible knowing that keeps her balanced.

All the pieces fall into place at once. Kate. Peter. Scott.

Lydia had been thinking about her conversation with Scott ever since he and Kira had been taken. What he'd said about Peter bothers her but doesn't surprise her. The older werewolf had planted the idea of memory manipulation in Scott's head. The banshee's sure of it. The True Alpha could never have thought to do it on his own. So even though it wasn't actually Peter who'd played with her mind this time, it was still pretty much his fault (go figure). She remembers the words her mind's version of Peter had sneered at her and Allison - "Is it still worth remembering knowing that you'll be helping me? I could already be planning the death of someone close to you. Then you would have helped kill three people".

How could knowing that it's Scott who'd hurt her help Peter? Then it occurs to her. Peter had little to no loyalty. What if he'd expected Lydia to renounce the pack after she found out what Scott did? Lydia knows that she can feel the death of the people she cares about much stronger than those she doesn't. Had Peter wanted her disconnect from Scott?

Her stomach drops.

Of course he had. And since she didn't pull away from the Alpha as much as Peter wanted, he'd sent a Berserker to keep her occupied. He wants her far away from whatever's happening in Mexico. It gets harder for her to breath. She'd been confused as to way she kept seeing a Berserker die. Now she understands.

It's not just a Berserker. It's Scott.

Peter used Kate, and now he's planning to use everyone else to help him kill the True Alpha.

The sound of the door opening catches her attention, and Lydia hides behind a corner. She listens to the Berserker's stomping and holds her breath. There's a thumping sound, like a body hitting the floor, and then the Berserker's footsteps recede down the hall. She pokes her head out and sees a kid lying on the ground. She knows she's seen him around Liam before. Mason.

She gently puts a hand to his forehead to check his wound and he gasps awake. The horror of the Berserker still shines in his eyes.

"There was a guy, huge, with a bone mask or something," he says as his eyes meet hers. Lydia nods.

"I know," she says. She watches as Mason pats his pockets.

"My phone is gone," he says.

"I think that's the point," she answers as she looks down the hall. They can't stay here. The voices whisper of a death in the hall. She can't tell whose it is though. She looks at the boy next to her. Poor kid. Berserkers are a rough way to meet the supernatural world hiding beneath Beacon Hills' suburban facade.

Lydia feels a shooting pain in her chest below her heart. She has to use the wall to steady herself against the paralyzing sensation.

Kira.

The banshee feels the kitsune's life force fluttering in the back of her mind. And Kira's not the only one. Derek's presence grows stronger in her mind as well. They're both dying. How cold they both already be dying? Lydia bites her lip until it almost bleeds.

Why?

Why couldn't she ever save her friends? Won't point was there in being a powerful banshee if she couldn't save the people she loved?

Lydia wipes at her eyes with a jerky hand. Crying won't change anything. No matter how many tears she lets out, she'll still be in the basement with a Berserker hell bent on not letting her leave. The only thing that can change anything now is action. Her action.

"We need to get past it," she says to Mason.

"But he's blocking the only exit," Mason says.

"I know," she says, "But we have to try to get past it."

"Why do you keep calling him an it?" Mason asks - his voice low in his fear.

"Because it's not human," she answers as she steps out from behind the corner to look down the hallway. She has to get to a phone. She has to tell Stiles about Scott. Suddenly, Lydia stops and takes a choked breath. She braces herself against the wall as all the air rushes out of her.

She just felt Derek die.

She leans her head back and closes her eyes. Be strong. There are still others she can save. She worries about Kira. She can't feel the kitsune anymore at all. She opens her eyes and pushes off of the wall. She has to keep trying.

"We're going to fight it," Lydia says as she looks over her shoulder at Mason. Then she turns back around to look over the objects in the basement. Her eyes skim over the hallway until they settle on a bin of baseball bats. She picks out the metal one. Stiles would be proud of her choice of weapon.

"With a baseball bat?" says Mason, "Lydia, are you serious?"

"Completely," she says a she admires the bat and tests its weight in her hands, "Look, I'm trying to save my friends from dying," She looks up at him with her words. "Liam, your best friend, is with them." She cracks her neck and starts walking down the hall towards the Berserker staring at them. "And yes, I'm going to use a baseball bat."

She takes pause when Mason runs past her with a loud cry. What a good friend. Liam is lucky to have him. She cringes as she watches the boy's body fly back from the Berserkers strike. At least Mason manages to connect a couple of times before he's tossed back. She's up next. Lydia swings the bat as hard as she can, but like Mason, she only gets two hits in before the beast throws her back. She can feel the energy in the hallway change when she hits the floor. They must have really pissed it off because the creature starts to stomp towards them. The death humming in the back of her mind gets louder.

What's about to happen?

She hears some one shout, "Excuse me, catch!" Lydia watches with wide eyes as Sheriff Stilinski tosses a land mine into the Berserker's hand. She and Mason barely have time to get behind the corner before the explosion goes off.

Well, that's definitely one way to take down a Berserker.

Lydia coughs as the dust and debris settles. She helps Mason up, and the two poke their heads around the corner. She watches as the Sheriff picks up the bone mask lying on the floor.

"Not so tough now," the Sheriff mumbles, "You kids okay?" God bless the Stilinski family.

"It was after me," Lydia says as she stares at the skull in the Sheriff's hands, "It wanted me to stay in Beacon Hills. I think this is all . . . some sort of distraction."

"Because you knew," says the Sheriff slowly, "They're trying to kill someone."

Mason looks back and forth between Lydia and the Sheriff. "Kill who?" he asks.

Lydia chews her lip. "Scott," she says softly. She keeps staring at the pile of dust and bones.

The Sheriff puts a hand on her and Mason's shoulder to gently guide them out of the basement. "Alright," he says, "Let's get out of here."

Mason looks over his shoulder one last time at the remainders of the Berserker as the three of them walk away.

"What was that thing?" he says.

Lydia raises her eyebrows and pulls her lips between her teeth before she shakes her head. "It's a long story," she says, "And one you should probably get from Liam."

She sees her purse lying on the stairs along with her phone. She picks them both up and opens her phone. Great, only about 20 missed calls from Stiles. She really wants to call him back. She needs to know what's happening. She'd felt Derek die, but now his presence is completely gone from her mind, just like Kira's earlier. She honestly can't tell what it means. The Sheriff waits until Mason steps to the side to call his mom, and then the police officer turns to Lydia.

"They were already in the temple when I talked to Stiles," he says, "I tried to call back but there was no answer." He stops talking and runs a hand down his face. "Lydia, I don't know how it works, but. . ." He pauses again to lick his lips and shifts from one foot to the other before he continues, "You can't feel Stiles, can you?"

She looks up at the Sheriff. His mouth is set in a taunt line, and his eyes seem to hold a deep searching terror.

"Stiles is alive," she says. The Sheriff lets out a deep sigh and bends over to put his hands on his knees as if he's catching his breath.

"Oh thank god," he says while still leaning on his knees, "I'm going to kill that kid when he gets home."

Lydia wants to smile at him, but when she starts to curl her mouth, the muscles of her face contort into a choking grimace. She brings a hand up to cover mouth, but the sob escapes her lips before she can stop it. The Sheriff looks up at her.

"I hate this," she says in a quiet voice from behind her hand. "I hate being a useless banshee. This time was supposed to be different." She drops her hand from her mouth and runs it though her hair as she bites her lip. "I wasn't going to let anyone die. And now I can't sense Derek or Kira, and I have no idea what it means." She ignores the tears trickling down her cheeks. She feels the Sheriff's sympathy blanket her as he pulls her into a strong hug. "What if Scott dies?" She can barely say the words.

"Hey now," he says softly, "Hey, it's okay."

"I can't," she says in a ragged voice, "I can't lose anyone else."

"You won't, Lydia," he says as he pulls back to look at her face. "Trust them. All we can do is trust them. They'll find a way."

She nods and hastily wipes at her eyes as Mason walks back over to them. She doesn't say anything back to the Sheriff. There's nothing to say.

All they can do now is wait and see.

Lydia sits on her bed and stares at her phone as she chews a fingernail. She needs it to ring. She can't stand not knowing. She should be there with them. Please ring. She flops backwards onto her pillow. What can she do? There must be something she can do. She closes her eyes and stretches her mind as far as it will go. Where are the voices? After the raging storm her mind's been the last two days, this oppressing quiet is unnerving. She keeps searching and searching for a hushed whisper. Any voice will do at this point. Just give her something. Anything. Lydia feels her eyes water again, and she sits up with an angry rush of breath. She doesn't want to cry anymore. She stands up and starts to pace her room. She looks back at her phone on the bed. Please ring.

She watches through blurry eyes as her phone screen lights up. Lydia nearly falls in her attempt to reach it. She doesn't even see who's calling before she answers.

"Is it over?" she says into the phone.

"It's over," says Stiles. He sounds exhausted. Lydia sinks into the bed and tries to steady her breathing.

"And everyone?" She can't bring herself to form the entire idea.

"We're all still here. Everyone is alive," he says. Lydia doesn't try to stop her tears this time. Her body starts to shake from the emotional release. She lets out a shaky breath into the phone. "Are you okay?" continues Stiles.

"I'm fine," she says in a choppy voice. Stiles is quiet as she regulates her breathing. "I'm fine," she repeats in a stronger voice.

"We're on the way home now," he says, "Probably about four hours away at most."

"Okay," she says as she wipes at her eyes, "I guess. . . drive safe."

"Yeah, don't worry," he says, "We didn't just fight our way out of an Aztec Temple to die in a car crash."

"Stiles," she says as she rolls her eyes. Did he have to use the d-word? "I'll just talk to you when you get back in town."

"Alright," he says, "Talk to you lat-" he stops and she can hear someone else saying something, but she can't make out who. "Hey, hold on," Stiles says, "Scott wants to talk you."

Lydia looks up her at ceiling then back at her lap. "Okay," she says after she takes a deep breath, "Put him on." She listens to the shuffling as the phone is passed to Scott.

"I just wanted to say thanks," the Alpha says.

"I didn't do anything," she says.

"Yeah, you did. Stiles told me," he says, "Deaton would be in a coma and we'd all be dead if it wasn't for you."

"Oh, that," she says as she lies back on her bed.

"Yeah, that," Scott says. She can practically hear him rolling his eyes. "Anyway, what are you doing later today?"

"I don't know," she says, "Probably convincing myself that we're all safe. For now at least. Never seems to last that long in Beacon Hills."

"Well, come over to Derek's when we get back and convince all of us."

"Scott, I'm glad you're alive, but I'm still mad at you," she says, "I'm not going."

"What?" he says, "I can't hear you. You're breaking up. I'll just see you at Derek's."

"No," she says as she sits up, "I'm not going."

"There's no reception out here. We'll see you at Derek's."

"Scott," she says but a dial tone is her only answer.

Lydia purses her lips and puts her phone down. Scott could totally hear her - the reception was fine. She puts her phone on her night stand and stands up from the bed. She doesn't want to go, but she doesn't have a choice. Everyone's expecting her now. Lydia sighs and rubs at her neck. The motion brings her nose close to her armpit, and she quickly drops her hand from her neck.

She definitely needs to shower before she sees anyone with super senses.

Lydia can already hear the chatter of the pack as she walks up to Derek's door. Sounds like everyone got here before her. Derek opens the door before she can knock. Her face moves into a natural smile at the sight of him.

"I've never been happier to be wrong," Lydia says as she steps inside the loft.

"Well, you were kinda right," he says as his lips curl up to mimic her grin, "I did die. I just didn't stay dead."

Stiles saunters up behind him and throws an arm around Derek's shoulders.

"Ole sour wolf here is back to his regular abnormal self," Stiles says as he slaps Derek on the back, "And furry than ever, I might add."

Derek turns and raises an eyebrow as he stares at the human's arm draped over his shoulder. Stiles quickly removes it.

"Yep, definitely the same old Derek," he says with a nod of his head.

Behind Stiles, Lydia can see Kira and Malia sitting on the couch. They're in the middle of a conversation, but the were-creatures take pause to wave at her. Lydia waves back. She feels tears building in the corner of her eyes. Knowing everyone's still alive and actually being able to see them all alive are two very different things. The banshee can't help that she's having an emotional reaction. She quickly swipes the tears away with a curled finger, and flips her hair over her shoulder. Derek is polite enough to not bring up the salty scent emitting from Lydia, but Stiles immediately takes notice of her wiping at her eyes.

"Whoa," he says, "Are you crying?"

Derek turns to Stiles and jabs him with an elbow while widening his eyes.

"I meant, whoa, you're not crying," Stiles says as he rubs the spot where Derek's elbow hit his arm. "Ow, dude," he says while looking back at the werewolf, "One day back as a werewolf, and you're already violent."

Derek lifts one corner of his mouth and shrugs before turning back to Lydia. "There's pizza in the kitchen if you haven't eaten," he says before he walks away.

God bless Derek. Pizza sounds amazing right now.

Lydia walks into the kitchen and sees Braeden and Scott standing next the open pizza box. The Alpha is piling slices onto a paper plate that Lydia's positive is about bend from the amount of grease and cheese. Her heels click against the concrete floors causing both of them turn around and see who's walking towards them. The mercenary smirks when she sees it's Lydia.

"Nice to see you in the daylight," she says as the banshee walks over to the counter.

Lydia shrugs as she reaches for a paper plate. "I felt like changing things up," she says while putting a large slice of pepperoni pizza on her plate. She can feel Scott watching her. She takes a bite of pizza and turns to face him as she chews. He looks pretty bad to be honest. The Alpha has dark circles under his eyes, and if she's not mistaken, there are flecks of dirt in his hair. He must not have showered yet. Good to know before he tries to initiate a hug.

"Wanna talk outside?" he says before taking a massive bite of cheese pizza.

Lydia sighs. "Can I finish this slice first?" she says.

Scott swallows and clears his throat. "Totally," he answers. The two stand in slightly awkward silence as they eat the reminder of the pizza in their hands. Braeden looks between them and shakes her head.

"Talk here," the mercenary says as she turns from two teenagers, "I'm going back in the main room anyway."

Lydia takes the last bite of her pizza and watches Braeden walk away. She wishes the mercenary wasn't so good at reading the atmosphere. Now it's even more awkward between her and Scott.

"So," he says as he stares at his plate.

"So," says Lydia while inspecting her nails. She hates that she let herself bite them earlier.

"Do you really have to tell everyone?" he says.

She looks up from her nails and stares hard at his face. "Are you serious?" she says, "Of course I have to tell them."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like hiding things. It's stupid when everyone around me can tell with one sniff that I'm lying."

"Stiles can't tell."

She puts her plate down. "Is that why you don't want me to say anything? Because of Stiles?"

Scott rubs his neck and sighs. "It's gonna upset him."

"It should upset him. What you did was awful," she says as she puts her hands on her hips. "Scott, this isn't going to go away. I told you I'd pretend it wasn't you until we stopped the dead-pool. Honestly, you should be thanking me for not telling everyone already."

Scott rolls his eyes. "Come on, Lydia," he says in a tight voice. "Just wait a little longer."

"Oh sure," she says in a mocking tone, "When would it be convenient for you to let them know that you physically invaded my mind twice?"

Scott opens his mouth, but suddenly closes it, and turns to look behind them with wide eyes. Lydia follows his line of sight. Stiles stands with a blank face in the kitchen door.

"Dude, how long have you been there?" asks the werewolf with a rush of air. Stiles doesn't answer him and stares at the Alpha with an increasingly darkening expression.

"Long enough," he says. Stiles seems to bite out the words. Lydia runs both hands through her hair. This isn't how she wanted him to find out.

"Dude, I can explain," Scott says as he drops his plate to the counter. A slice of cheese pizza tumbles off onto the countertop. Stiles narrows his eyes and moves his head forward as his mouth drops open.

"You seriously attacked her?" he says, "Are you fucking kidding me?" He walks over to stand next to Lydia and across from Scott.

"Dude, just let me explain," says the Alpha. His voice sounds panicked.

"You gave her a concussion," says Stiles slowly. His hands are clenched into fists at his side, and not a single body part on him is moving. Lydia's never seen Stiles so still. "I found her bleeding and unconscious. . ."

"I didn't mean too," Scott says, "I'd never hurt her on purpose, Stiles. I swear."

Lydia practically hears Stiles snap.

"You son of a bitch," he snarls as he lunges at Scott. His fist connects with the Alpha's nose, and a sickening crack echoes throughout the kitchen. Scott puts a hand to his face and pulls it back to look at the smear of blood across his palm. No one in the room moves for a solid three seconds, and then chaos breaks loose. The werewolf tackles Stiles and both boys hit the ground hard in a blur of swinging fists.

"Scott, stop!" Lydia yells as she watches the boys pummel one another. A human verses an Alpha is not a fair fight. Stiles stops trying to land a hit on Scott and starts covering his head with his arms to protect himself from the werewolf's fists.

Derek and Malia run into the kitchen. The older werewolf grabs Scott by his shirt collar and yanks him off of Stiles while Malia holds the human back as he resumes his attempts to land another blow on the Alpha.

"What the fuck is going on?" demands Derek. He struggles to keep hold of Scott. Stiles wipes at his face with back of his hand and stops fighting against Malia's arms. His eyes flick over to Lydia, and when she's sure no one else but Stiles is looking at her, she shakes her head quickly. Please no. Not like this.

She wants the truth to come out, but not like this.

No one says a word. The sound of Stiles's panting breath fills the room until he pats at Malia's arm around his shoulder to let her know it's safe to release him. Stiles dusts off his shirt once he's free, but stays seated on the floor.

"I don't know," he says as his top lip curls into a sneer, "Ask Scott." His words come out huffed and he stares at the Alpha still being held by Derek.

"He fucking punched me in the face," growls Scott as he resumes his struggle against Derek's arms.

"Your face pissed me off," says Stiles, "So I hit it. Big deal. It's not like I gave you a concussion." His words visible incite the Alpha, and Derek face's contorts from the effort it takes to hold Scott back.

"Scott. . ." says Kira from the kitchen door way. Braeden stands behind her watching the tense exchange. The Alpha stills when he hears his name from the kitsune. Kira walks forward and stands in front of him to block his view of Stiles.

"Can I let you go now?" says Derek. Scott nods as he stares at Kira. "Are you sure?" continues Derek.

"I'm fine," says Scott. His voice sounds calmer, but he still looks tense. He wipes a hand across his face when he's released. The blood's wet under his nose but Lydia can tell the broken cartilage has already healed itself. Stiles's black eye will not heal as quickly.

"I'm going home," says Lydia. Stiles jerks his head to face her.

"Lydia, wait," he says as he stands up. Malia stops him from walking towards the banshee by putting a hand on his shoulder. Lydia doesn't even want to think about what the were-coyote can sense coming from her, Scott, and Stiles.

Derek nods at her. "I'll walk you out," he says as he steps around Scott and Kira.

Lydia ignores the Alpha's eyes as they trail after her retreating form. Derek is quiet until they reach the parking lot.

"Are you going to tell me what happened in there?" he says.

"They fought," she says in a blank voice while searching through her purse for her car keys. The werewolf sighs.

"About what?"

Lydia bites her lip. She can't find her car keys. She puts her purse on the trunk of her car and opens it wide.

"Lydia," says Derek, "About what?"

"Nothing," she says as she starts pulling items from her purse. Her phone. Her wallet. Sunglasses. An old grocery list. Three tubes of lipstick.

"That was a hell of a fight about nothing," he says. Lydia leans her head back and closes her eyes. Where are her keys?

"It's personal, okay?"

"Not anymore," says Derek, "Not after an Alpha attacks one of his own like that."

Lydia opens her eyes and shakes her head before looking at Derek. "Then talk to Scott and Stiles," she says while turning back to her purse, "Right now, I just want to go home."

Derek watches her continue her search for the keys with his lips in firm line.

"Lydia," he says in a soft tone, "I wasn't talking about Scott attacking Stiles." She immediately stops the movement of her hands in her purse. She licks her lips and runs a hand though her loose hair before turning to face Derek.

"You were listening to us," she says. The werewolf nods. Lydia takes a deep breath and looks away from Derek. She can feel her eyes start to burn from how hard she's holding back her tears. "I was going to tell everyone," she says, "But not like this. I don't want it to come out like this."

"I won't tell anyone," says Derek in the same soft tone, "But you need to tell me everything."

Lydia puts the back of her hand to her mouth and nods.

"Okay, okay. But not now," she says, "Please Derek. I want to go home. Just let me go home." She hates how whiney her voice is right now. She sounds pathetic. Lydia wipes away a tear that managed to escape and shoves her hands back into her purse. Where the fuck are her keys? She hears Derek sigh.

"You haven't checked the front pocket yet," he says.

Lydia stops and purses her lips before opening the front pocket of her bag. She grabs the car keys from it and wipes at her eyes again. She needs to get home before she starts full on crying.

"I'll talk to you later," the banshee says as she gets into her car and slams the door.

Lydia grabs her phone when she stops at the first red light. It's been ringing non-stop since she got in the car. She doesn't need to check to see who it is - she knows it's Stiles from the ringtone.

"Stiles, stop calling me," she says when she picks up, "I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Tough shit," he says, "I'm on the way over."

Lydia wants to scream she's so frustrated. "No," she says, "Don't you dare."

"Too late," he says, "Look in your rearview mirror."

Lydia does one better and turns around to look behind her. Stiles's blue jeep is the only car behind hers at the stop light. She can see his hand tapping frantically on the steering wheel. She clenches her jaw and turns back to face the traffic light.

"God dammit, Stiles," she says as the light turns green.

"I'll see you at your house," he says before he hangs up.

Lydia throws her phone onto the passenger's seat. She could kill Stiles she's so fucking pissed. She parks her car in the driveway and gets out, slamming the door as hard as she can behind her. Stiles parks the jeep on the street and exits the car as angrily as Lydia had.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he says in a harsh voice. "Why'd you let me think it was Peter?"

"You're mad at me? Is this a joke?" she asks in an incredulous tone as she raises a hand to her chest. "I told you it was Scott when we were at Peter's. You didn't believe me." She points at him with her words then whirls around and stomps towards her front door.

"You never said it was Scott," says Stiles as he follows her inside. "Peter said it was Scott."

Lydia whips around to face him. "What's the difference, Stiles?" she says.

He opens his mouth wide and his eyes wider as he holds out his hands.

"Seriously?" he says, "The difference is I don't trust Peter. I trust you."

"No," says Lydia with a shake of her head, "You trust Scott. That's why you didn't believe it." She walks away and throws her purse and sweater onto the couch. She turns to look at him and she can't help the tears that trickle down her cheek. This is such bullshit. All she wants is to be alone. "It wouldn't have mattered if you heard it from me first," she says, "I know you, Stiles. You had to hear it from Scott's own mouth to believe it."

Stiles drops his hands to his side. He doesn't say anything. The truth in her words must have hit him hard. Lydia turns from him and walks into her kitchen. She gets a plastic sandwich bag out from a draw and fills it with ice. She walks back into the living room and holds it out to Stiles.

"Put this on your eye before it swells," she says.

He takes the offered bag slowly from her hand and presses it against his black eye. Lydia sits next to her thrown purse on the couch and leans her head back as she puts a hand over her eyes to block out the overhead light. She can feel her temples throbbing. The ringing of her phone startles her, and Lydia grabs the technology with her right hand to see who's calling. It's Scott. She turns her phone off and tosses it back into her purse.

"Who was that?" asks Stiles.

He sounds closer so it doesn't surprise her when she feels the couch cushion next to her sink down. Before she can answer, Stiles's phone starts to ring. Lydia lifts the hand covering her eyes from her face and watches him reach into his pocket to retrieve the cellphone. He just stares at the screen before shaking his head and putting it back in his pocket unanswered.

"Probably the same person who just called you," she says to his earlier question. Stiles adjust the bag of ice over his eye and sighs as he leans his head back like Lydia. "You shouldn't have punched him," she continues, "You know you can't win against him in a fight."

"Yeah, well," he mutters, "We can't all be Alpha werewolves."

"Thank god," says Lydia, "One's enough."

Stiles phones rings again and this time the teen silences it before putting it back in his pocket.

"Does he have brain damage from my punch or something?" says Stiles, "Why in the hell does he think I'll answer if he keeps calling?"

Lydia turns to look him with her eyebrows raised. "Really, Stiles?" she says, "You just called me non-stop until I answered."

The sound of an engine cutting off outside draws her attention. She stands up from the couch and walks over to the window.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she says as she peers through the glass.

"What?" says Stiles, but Lydia doesn't answer him. She's too busy running upstairs to her room to grab a purple pouch from her dresser. She almost falls she runs back down the stairs so fast. She reaches her front door and grabs a handful of gray dust from the pouch to spread across entry way. Stiles sits up as he watches her work and says, "Scott's outside, isn't he?" Lydia nods as she races to the other door in the kitchen and repeats the process. Stiles puts down the bag of ice and stands from the couch to walk to the front door.

"What are you doing?" says Lydia in a high-pitched voice.

"I'm going to tell him to fuck off," he says as he opens the door.

The Alpha stands with his back to them and his hands in his pockets. Scott turns around at the sound of the door and cringes when he sees Stiles.

"Oh my god, Stiles," says the werewolf, "Your eye. . . Dude, I'm so sorry."

"Well, I'm not sorry about your nose," says Stiles, "I wish it was still broken. What do you want?"

"Can we talk?" ask the Alpha.

"We're talking now," Stiles says, "What do you want?"

Scott takes a hand from his pocket and rubs his neck as he shifts from one foot to the other. "I want to talk to both of you," he says as he drops his hand from his neck and puts it back in his pocket.

Lydia walks up behind Stiles and peers over his shoulder at Scott. "Fine," she says, "We'll come outside." She pushes past Stiles with her words and walks onto the front porch. Scott watches her exit and his eyes linger on the mountain ash she steps over to reach him. He looks back at Lydia, and she can see his jaw clench. Stiles follows her outside and closes the door behind him. Scott sits down on the step leading to the little concrete porch and puts his head in his hands.

"I know you don't believe me," he says, "But I'm so sorry."

"For what?" says Stiles, "My black eye or leaving Lydia unconscious and bleeding on her front porch?"

"Stiles," says Lydia in a quiet voice. They shouldn't provoke the werewolf.

Scott lifts his head to look at the human. "Both," he says in a controlled voice despite his hands that are now clenched into fists. "I made a mistake," he says, "I'm really sorry."

Stiles's eyes go wide, and he lurches forward as he gives a humorless laugh. "A mistake?" he says with his arms stretched wide, "Scott, a mistake is forgetting to do your homework or leaving the car window down when it rains. No," he shakes his head as he talks drops his arms to his side, "You didn't make a mistake, buddy. You fucked up."

Lydia watches Scott's fist tighten. The Alpha stares at the ground a moment before he abruptly stands up and looks at Stiles. Lydia feels the need to intervene.

"Derek knows it was you too," she says quickly and Scott turns from Stiles to face her. "He overheard us talking about it," the banshee continues, "He won't tell anyone, but he wants an explanation, Scott. Soon."

Scott stares at her as his brow creases and his mouth curls on one side to release winded huff. His shoulders drop sharply as his chin lowers. He sits back down slowly on the step and takes a deep breath.

"Is there an explanation?" Stiles voice is sharp, "Or I'm hoping for too much here?"

"What do you want me to say, Stiles?" snaps Scott as he looks over his shoulder at the human, "That I was possessed?"

Stiles's face is unreadable as he stares back at the werewolf.

"Scott," says Lydia in low tone as she shakes her head from side to side, but the Alpha ignores her completely.

"We can't all blame an evil spirit when we fuck up." The words shoot from his mouth and Lydia watches as the bullets find their mark in the human boy. Stiles's face twists.

"So now we're gonna talk about it? After months of pretending like there wasn't problem?" says Stiles as he takes a step towards the sitting werewolf. "Are fucking kidding me, Scott? Do you know-" He stops to shake his head and smacks his right hand into the palm of his left repetitively as he starts to pace. "Eight," he says without looking at Scott, "I tried to talk to you eight fucking separate times about what happened."

Scott stands back up, and turns to face Stiles with narrowing eyes.

"You think I wanted to comfort you?" he says, "I could barely look at you."

"Stop it," says Lydia, "Both of you, stop it."

"No," says Stiles, "No, this is good, right, buddy?" He spits out the word. "I think now's a good time to stop pretending."