Hey everyone! I know it's been quite a minute since the last update, but there were further complications from the accident that ended up in me having to have a second surgery. It's been a long few weeks, guys. From now on, I'll be posting status updates on my profile letting you guys know if another chapter is going to be delayed and such, so you can keep up that way. It's something I should've done a long time ago, but, ya know, better late than never?

I am SO excited for this new season, and I fully expect it to inspire the plot bunny and give me more ideas and concepts for this story.

Anyway, happy readings! I love you all, dearly!

PART VEINTIÚN

The next few days passed in a violent haze. We didn't sleep or eat, but fueled up on energy drinks and coffee while storms and fights broke out all over the city. We searched everywhere we could think of, tried to trace his phone and track him down using security camera footage, but it was useless. There was no sign of the sheriff.

Then, Scott's mom and Allison's dad were taken, too, and so the Darach had all three sacrifices and, shit, that meant that they were all going to die soon. Cora was dying, too, poisoned from her fight with Evil Twin #1. Derek was so distraught, desperate to find a way to save her, that he and Peter were no help at all in finding Sheriff Stilinsky. Not to mention that there was still an Alpha pack out there trying to destroy, well, everything and steal Derek and Scott for their own.

That night after the recital I had to turn off my phone because my parents kept calling with questions I couldn't answer. They reported me missing to the police, but with Tara dead and Sheriff Stilinsky missing, we weren't too worried about the cops stopping us until all of this was over. Well, other than Scott's douche of a father, FBI Agent McCall. Talk about not seeing something coming.

He tried to detain Stiles at the school the night after Momma McCall and Papa Argent were taken. Thankfully, Scott's boss Deaton showed up and totally played Batman, rescuing our asses and letting us rally at his veterinarian office with Allison and Isaac. In the back, we hunched around an operating table, maps of Beacon Hills and the telluric currents spread out. They were talking low and fast and I was half-listening, half-not, running through all of the terrible consequences that would occur if we couldn't save their parents in time. I was in a haze, my eyes half-lidded, slumped against the counter. I didn't realize that I had been staring at a doggy growth chart until a hand coiling around my arm startled me.

"What?"

"You okay?" Stiles looked just as exhausted as I felt, a permanent sheen of panic-sweat on his brow. I nodded numbly and he forced a tight-lipped smile back. "Deaton thinks he knows a way we can find the Nemeton is, but we need Scott. We're going meet him now."

"He finally texted back?" I asked, arms uncrossing so that one could loop around Stiles' waist, the only way I'd been able to provide him some comfort since this misery began.

Scott had been ignoring us since that horrific showdown at the hospital. Since his mom was taken. We'd texted him a million times, and then some. He'd seemingly ignored them all, until now. Stiles nodded, "Yeah. C'mon. You're coming with us."

I followed Stiles out the back to his Jeep and noticed that Allison and Isaac were staying put. "They aren't coming?"

"No. Just us and Deaton."

"I can stay behind, if…?"

"Not a chance in hell. Until Blake is dead and this is over, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Neither Deaton nor Stiles spoke for the duration of the drive. Not wanting to be the one to break the silence, I burrowed my head in my knees and tried to take a micro-nap while Stiles drove. We headed to the shadowy cliffs of the Beacon Hills Preserve where Scott was waiting amidst a cluster of trees.

"How'd you guys find out they were at the Nemeton?" asked Scott in lieu of greeting as we tumbled out of the Jeep. Stiles answered, his words brisk, "Lydia. You?"

"Morrell. None of the other Alphas know where it is either."

"If this works, are you gonna tell them?" retorted Stiles. It wasn't often that Stiles wholly opposed his best friend, but he was super sore over Scott running off with a bunch of murderers. Even if it was the only way Scott felt that he could save his mom.

Scott replied tersely. "I can't stop Jennifer without them."

Deaton seemed to sense the tension. Moving between the friends, a parental buffer, he suggested that we concentrate on finding their parents first. The boys stared one another down for a beat before Scott finally submitted. "What's the plan?"

"Essentially," said Deaton a little too casually. "-you, Allison, and Stiles need to be surrogate sacrifices for your parents."

"We die for them…?" Scott elaborated, brows drawing in confusion over his dark eyes. His words sent my stomach plummeting to the ground. "Whoa, I'm sorry, what?" I stepped forward. Flashing an accusatory glare Stiles' way, I snapped, "You didn't say anything about you taking their place."

"But he can bring us back," my boyfriend quickly added. "You can-you can bring us back, right?"

The corners of Deaton's mouth twitched just-so into the slightest hint of a frown. "You remember the part where I said it would be dangerous? If it goes right, the three of you will be dead for a few seconds-"

"S'no biggie, right?" I scoffed.

"-but there's something else you need to think about."

"Because death isn't enough to worry over."

"Sam-"

"I'm just saying."

Deaton was patient, calmly ignoring my snark. When I folded my arms over my chest, a sign of compliance, he continued. "This is a dangerous thing for more reasons than one. You'll be giving power back to the Nemeton, a place that hasn't had power for a long time. This kind of power is like a magnet. It attracts the supernatural. The kind of things that a family like the Argents can fill the pages of a bestiary with. It will draw them here like a beacon."

Stiles shrugged. "It doesn't sound any worse than anything we've already seen."

"You'd be surprised at what you have yet to see."

"Is that it?" asked Scott.

"No. It will also have an effect on the three of you. You won't be able to see it, but you'll feel it. Every day. For the rest of your lives. It will be a kind of a…darkness around your heart. And permanent, like a scar."

Scott's face contorted softly, thoughtfully. He murmured, "Like a tattoo," and swallowed, his jaw unclenching as he weighed the consequences of this decision. I knew what he would say. I knew what they both would say. Because Scott and Stiles were entirely selfless creatures, bent on protecting everyone around them, those they love especially, themselves be damned.

I knew what they would say, and it burned me.

"Oh, is that all?" I scoffed. Spinning around, I trudged back to the Jeep, my pulse thumping painfully in my ears. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was not okay. Stiles couldn't-and Scott and Allison, too. What if it didn't work? What if they didn't wake up and then their parents died, anyway? What if they all just…? "Fuck."

"Sammy-"

"You can't do this to me, Stiles. I can't watch you die," I spat. "How can you ask me to do that? Did you hear what Deaton said? It's going to screw with your heads! Like PTSD, or something. Stiles-"

"We have to try this, Sam. Our parents-"

"I am well aware of the situation, Stiles!"

Christ, why was I yelling at him? He didn't deserve my anger. This wasn't his fault. And just like that, I couldn't take it anymore. My legs decided to no longer give a shit, and suddenly, I was sitting in the dirt, my back against the front tire of his Jeep. I was crying and I couldn't breathe, and when I tried to wipe the tears from my face, my hands shook so badly that I couldn't. Holy hell, was I having a panic attack?

"Sam…Sammy." Stiles took me in his arms, crushing me into him until he was all around me, his scent, his warmth, even the sound of the gentle humming in his throat. I pulled at his shirt and held him to me. My sobs shook us. He was speaking, but I couldn't understand him over the sound of my hysterics. Realizing that I was rapidly descending into hot-mess status, I tried to pump my brakes and force myself to calm the fuck down. This only caused me to start hiccupping between sobs, but eventually I was able to choke out a string of, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just tired, I can't-I'm sorry."

"It's okay, baby. You're okay," Stiles soothed, his long fingers stroking my hair. He put our foreheads together and forced me to look him in the eye. "Sam, it's…it's my dad-" His voice broke off and he licked his lips. "I have to at least try."

I clenched my eyes shut and focused on the beautiful boy in front of me, my fingers finding his cheeks. I cupped his face, breathing in his scent until it filled my being all the way to my toes. "I know…I know, I'm sorry. I just…shit, I need a nap. I'm okay. Sorry. God, I'm fine. I swear."

He kissed me then. His lips were warm and chapped and so perfectly familiar. After a few seconds, his lips dragged across my cheeks. Taking a shaky breath, I laughed against him, "Are you literally kissing away my tears?"

"M'trying to, yeah," he murmured. Pulling me into his lap, Stiles hugged me fiercely. "I'm sorry, Sammy, but we have to do this."

"I know. I'm just going to bitch about it until this is over and you're safe."

Stiles captured my chin between his forefinger and thumb. His honey brown eyes were seriously addictive. "Ditto."

When my little episode was over, we stood and rejoined Deaton and Scott. I laughed awkwardly to defuse the humiliation of the incident, wiping my hands, wet from my tears, on my jeans. "Sorry 'bout that. I'm going to play the fragile-teenage-girl card now."

"Consider it forgotten," Deaton smiled graciously. Clapping his hands, he declared, "Now that we have the plan-" He gestured the Jeep. "-shall we? The lunar eclipse is approaching. Every moment is precious."

Scott nodded firmly. "Let's do it."

When we returned to Deaton's office and the logistics of Deaton's plan began coming together, I sort of had another bitchy episode. It was brief, but at least an eight on the Richter Scale of Girlfriend Meltdowns. It went something like:

Me: "I have to drown you?!"

Stiles: "No! We drown ourselves."

Me: "Oh, ho, and when your body starts fighting it? When your lungs burst inside your chest and your body thrashes in the water and I have to hold you down! I can't-fuck, Stiles, you can't ask me to-"

But like the last time, I managed to simmer down and realized that we truly had no other options. We had to kill them to save them. To save them and their parents, and stop Ms. Blake, who was perhaps the worst English teacher of all time. After crying in the hallway for a few minutes, I collected myself and faced my friends. No one commented on my outburst, or even acknowledged it really. Except Allison. She shot me a knowing smile that I somehow felt was condescending and in that moment I hated her a little bit. I hated that she was so together. So calm. Why couldn't she freak out like a normal teenager?

When the last bag of ice had been emptied into their three respective tubs, all of which were nearly filled to the brim with freezing water, Deaton asked if they each had brought something that belonged to their parents. A meaningful token. Stiles had his father's badge. Allison had some ceremonial silver bullet her father had made. And Scott had his mother's favorite watch. The vet had already explained that the person who would hold each of them down – Isaac, Deaton, and myself – needed to have a strong connection to them, "a kind of emotional tether."

"Geez, that sounds like a lot of responsibility," I had muttered sarcastically. A few chuckles rose from the room, and Isaac bumped my shoulder. He grinned impishly down at me. "Don't sweat it, Sammy. We'll bring 'em back."

I moved to Stiles, my fingers ghosted along his arm until our hands connected, our fingers lacing together. He gave a comforting squeeze and kissed the back of my hand. Allison looked to Deaton. "If you're pulling Scott back…?"

Deaton did not answer. Instead, he merely peeked at Isaac and the room came to a standstill. Suddenly, all eyes were on Scott. Swallowing, the young werewolf shook his head numbly, "It's okay…" Though his words were calm, he couldn't raise his eyes to Isaac's face, choosing to move forward and to the tub furthest to the right. Stiles followed his lead, and soon the three were standing tall and staring down at their respective tubs.

No one spoke a word.

No one wanted to have to say goodbye.

Allison was the first to step in. She lifted a dainty foot and gently eased her toes into the water. Stiles tossed a glance over his shoulder at me. I forced a smile and nodded. He returned the gesture before leaning forward to grip the sides of the tub. He and Scott lower themselves in at the same time because like everything else in life, they were brothers and had to do it together. Stiles sunk in all the way up to his chin. They were all gasping and shivering and cursing beneath their breath and I felt awful for them.

Stepping up, I ran my fingertips over Stiles' scalp. I moved from the base of his neck upward, and then back down again. The beautiful, altruistic boy leaned into my touch, nuzzling my hand like a puppy. His head turning in my grasp, Stiles told his best friend. "By the way, um, if I don't make it back and you do, you should probably know something…your dad's in town."

Scott's eyes became wide and round and his cheeks became even whiter. He let the information wash over him and then they were looking at each other, Allison, Scott, and Stiles. They were reassuring themselves. They could do this. Together. The three of them had been at the heart of everything since the beginning. And they would be at the end of it now.

Deaton and Isaac stepped forward on either side of me. Deaton gently rested his hands on Scott's shoulders. Isaac and I did the same with Allison and Stiles. With one final nod between Scott and Stiles, we pushed.

As Stiles' face slipped beneath the surface of the ice water, his eyes met mine and the urgency I saw in them shook me. He hastily said, "I love you," and then he was under.

They didn't fight death as much as I thought they would, and I didn't cry as much as I anticipated. I suspected Deaton had something to do with that, using some kind of ancient magic to ease their pain. When they were still and pale, we dried our hands and I asked, "Did it hurt them very much?"

Deaton sent me a kind smile. "I would like to think it didn't hurt at all."

"How long will they be…out?" I hesitated to use the term 'dead.'

"That," Deaton gazed at our submerged friends. "-depends on them."

"What do we do now?" Isaac asked. Deaton answered very simply, "Now, we wait."

After the first few minutes, I began to fidget. After the first ten minutes, I down right snapped at Deaton to wake them up. After half an hour passed, I full on panicked. There was no way they were going to come back. Not after being dead for thirty minutes. That much water in their lungs, no way. I screamed at Deaton and said bad things and pointed my finger accusingly and tossed up suggestive and mean hand gestures. Isaac ended up having to hold me back from attacking the poor man.

As usual, Deaton was cool as a cucumber and couldn't be bothered. He simply assured me that they were fine and countered my scientific reasoning by pointing out that we weren't dealing with science. We were dealing with magic. He was kind and patient with me. And so an hour passed, and then another. Then, two more. Then. two more after that.

It was the worst kind of waiting. Worse than waiting at the dentist's office for a root canal. Worse than waiting to have blood drawn or to get a vaccine shot. Worse than waiting in line for concert tickets at three a.m. in blizzard conditions. Worse, even, than waiting for the end of Papa Stilinsky's not-lecture that day he found out Stiles and I were having sex.

And it wasn't just getting to me.

"We can't just sit here and do nothing. It's been too long. The lunar eclipse is in less than ten hours. We have to do something."

"We can't leave them. I'm not leaving Stiles. You heard Deaton. We have to pull them back."

Isaac's pacing slammed to a halt. "So we're just going to sit around twiddling our thumbs until they wake up? It's been over six hours."

"What else can we do? Do you know where Blake is? Do you know where the Nemeton is? Do you-"

"We can do something! We can go to Derek. We ca-"

"You tried that already! He's too concerned about his sister. And if you haven't forgotten, the Alphas are still after Derek, so unless you want to fight Kali on your own!"

"Enough!"

The deep, timbre shout was so unfamiliar that Isaac emitted a low growl and spun swiftly on his heel while simultaneously shoving me behind him and shielding my body with his own. Prepared for a fight, his claws extended and his teeth barred, but it was only Deaton. I blinked. "I don't think I've ever heard you raise your voice before."

Deaton frowned. "Arguing isn't going to solve anything. You two should get some rest while you can."

We took the time to seem properly scolded, dropping down onto the bench beside one another. Isaac rubbed his hands on his jeans. His nerves were on edge. I pretended not to notice the way he kept glancing at Allison's tub. "He's right, you know. We should try to sleep."

"I don't think I can," he mumbled. I bit my lip and leaned into his long torso. "Me ether."

Some more time passed, and suddenly, Isaac went rigid. "Was that your stomach?"

I cupped my belly, offended. "Was what my stomach?"

"I think your stomach just growled."

"You can hear that? Dude, gross."

Isaac's dark eyes rolled, and he countered with, "When was the last time you ate?"

"Um…"

"Oh, my God, you honestly can't remember."

"Yes, I can. It was lunch, I think. The day of the recita-"

"Of the recital?! Sam, that was two days ago!"

"In case you haven't noticed, Lahey, I've been a bit busy."

He immediately stood. "Jesus. I'm getting you a cheeseburger."

"What? No, I-" But he was already gone. Alone with the incapacitated trio, I drew my legs up and rested my chin on my knee. I closed my eyes, hoping to fall asleep, but it was too quiet and I was bound too tightly and I was, well, alone with three waterlogged corpses, one of which happened to be my boyfriend. So that was kind of a bust.

Isaac returned twenty minutes later with a McDonald's sack in hand. He dropped it onto my lap.

"One double cheeseburger. No onion. No tomato. Extra pickle. Side of fries."

My eyes instantly filled with tears. "You remember."

"Of course I remember. We were best friends for four years. I ate more dinners at your house when we were in middle school than I did at mine."

Unwrapping my food, I shoved a handful of fries into my mouth and moaned, unabashed. "I'm kind of pissed at you about that, by the way…why didn't you ever tell us what was going on, Isaac? Livy and I, we would've helped you-"

"I didn't-" A muscle in his jaw twitched. I paused from unwrapping my burger and contemplated reaching for his hand. Or at least rubbing his shoulder. The pale teen sighed. "I couldn't tell anyone. I was just so afraid all the time. Even when Derek confronted me and he knew, and I knew he knew, I couldn't say it out loud. I couldn't admit it. I just…I was ashamed, I think. And angry. So very, very angry."

"Isaac, you have no reason whatsoever to feel ashamed. What your father did to you…it was in no way your fault. You have to know that, right?" The werewolf mumbled something like, 'Yeah, now, I do,' and flushed a lovely shade of pink. Reaching over, I slipped my fingers around his and gaze a small squeeze. "I'm going to forgive you on account of we were just kids when it started, but shit, Isaac, no more, okay? You've got problems, come to us. We will help, yeah?"

"Well, I mean I kind of live with Scott so I think if anything comes up, he'll-"

"Shut up, smart ass."

"Hey, do you remember when we were obsessed with Out of the Box and we tried to make a tree house out of cardboard boxes like the one on the show?"

A laugh echoed in my chest. Nodding, I picked up on Isaac's nostalgia and took a massive bite of my burger. "Yeah…we were so convinced that their tree house was really made of cardboard. Even though it had windows and stairs inside."

"Hey now. Those windows were real. They were drawn on with magic markers." Lahey chuckled and stole a French fry. And so, Isaac and I sat with the waterlogged bodies our of closest friends and loved ones, sitting against a ticking clock and rehashing the greatest moments of our childhood together like the summer Livy got her period and refused to talk to Isaac because he was a boy and he would just know and she would just die, and that one Halloween when we totally set my backyard on fire trying to smoke some weed that Isaac found in his brother's gym bag. That was the first and the last time any of us tried pot.

The hands began ticking faster and faster on the clock until Isaac couldn't stand it. Glancing at Allison's tub, he checked his phone. "It's been almost twelve hours. Sam…"

"We have not been sitting here for twelve hours," I rolled my eyes before snatching his phone out of his grasp. One violent jerk and a gasp later, I sighed. "…damn. How have we been sitting here for twelve hours? Wait, how long does that give us until the eclipse?"

"Eight hours."

"Isaac, what're we going to do? Their parents are going to die if they don't wake up soon."

"If they're not up by sunset, we'll go. Me and you. We'll got to Derek's. We'll make him and Peter and Cora help. We'll…we'll figure something out."

Thankfully, they did come to before the sun set. Scott woke first. Then Stiles. Then Allison, all within a few seconds of each other. The moment they did, their bodies instantly reacted to the freezing water and they propelled upward, springing up from the tubs and gasping for air.

"I saw it! I know where it is!" Scott shouted at us, half bent over, taking gulps of air. Stiles chimed in, speaking more so to Scott than us, "We passed it. There was this stump. This huge tree. Well, it's not huge anymore, it was cut down. But it's still big, very big."

"It was the night we were looking for the body."

"The night you were bit by Peter."

They were talking so quickly, rapidfire, their words spitting out just seconds before the other's. Isaac and I shuffled awkwardly, Deaton silent beside us as we let them play connected the dots aloud. Shivering, Allison hastily chimed in, "I was there, too. In the car with my mother. We almost hit someone."

"It was me. You almost hit me." Scott admonished. The wolf turned to Deaton. "We can find it."

"Guys…" I murmured. I didn't want to bring their good mood down, and fuck, was I happy they were you know, alive and well, but…

"What?" Allison asked soaking wet, her shoulders starting to shake from the cold. Isaac crossed his arms. He was fidgeting again, and my guess was he was trying to look anywhere but at Allison's wet shirt. The one clinging to her chest. "You guys were out a long time."

"How long's a long time?" Stiles quipped. His eyes were on mine, but Deaton replied before I could, "Sixteen hours."

Scott wheezed. "We've been in the water for sixteen hours?!"

"And the full moon rises in less than four."

So, thoughts?