People stood up and shouted, everyone wanting their opinion to be heard. Most of them held the same view: Derek was wrong. He was crazy just like both his brothers had been; Peter and Ken. Sending out half-breeds and humans to fight the Vampires was the extinction of both races. They even had the nerve to suggest that that was Derek's plan all along — that he was somehow collaborating with the Vampires in all of this.

Malia stood up, disgust all over her features. "You might as well leave. Nothing useful's going to happen now."

Stiles followed her out, but Erica stayed. He couldn't believe it had only been a few days since he'd spoken to Malia; it felt like it'd been years. Being with Erica these last couple of days had been fantastic, but seeing Malia again, all of his old feelings came rushing back. His distress over the Derek thing also came back, and stupid words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Shouldn't you be in there with Derek? He could use reinforcements. The mob might get him otherwise."

"He can take care of himself." She glanced at Stiles, her eyes on the Nazar, and smiled. "You know, that's from the Middle East."

Stiles barely heard her. "Yeah, yeah, because he's a badass karate Werewolf. I get all that. I just figured since you're going to be his guardian and all—"

Malia stopped in her tracks. "Where did you hear that?"

"I have my sources," he shrugged. "You've decided to, right? I mean, it sounds like a good deal, seeing as he's going to give you fringe benefits..." he stopped himself when he saw the look in her face.

"What happens between him and me is none of your business," she replied crisply.

The words stung. It sounded like she and Derek were a done deal. Stiles tasted metal in his mouth.

"Well, I'm sure you guys'll be happy together. He's just your type, too — always calling attention to himself," he said recalling something Gerard Argent had said about Matt Daehler.

Malia understood the reference. Her fist hit his face before he could regret his words. It hurt and it made him taste blood, but somehow Stiles was sure she had only use a third of her strength.

"How dare you?" she said after several moments of silence.

Stiles shrugged once more trying to look chill about it. His heart was on his throat. He didn't know where his words had come from. He didn't enjoy hurting her at all and using Matt Daehler against her was probably worse than being punched in the face for the second time in four days.

"My little guardian," a voice suddenly said nearby.

Slowly, still stunned, Stiles turned toward Lydia Martin. She smiled and gave a brief nod of acknowledgment to Malia. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Just wanted to talk to you when you have time."

Stiles forced a smile. "I've got time now." He followed Lydia without ever looking back.

"Why are you mad at her?" asked Lydia once they were alone.

"You're imagining things," Stiles said giving her a side glance.

"That's entirely possible," she conceded. "Sometimes I do have a hard time figuring what's real and what isn't. But I can read you so well, little guardian. Better than anyone else I've ever met. I don't know why, but... Oh, well. It doesn't matter."

"What do you want?" Stiles asked.

Lydia studied him for a moment. "I want you to grab Scott McCall and come with me. It seems you both need to clear your minds. Or should I say — mind?"

"A bunch of people just got slaughtered, and you want to go 'have fun'?"

"People getting slaughtered is exactly why we need a breather. We could die tomorrow, Stiles. Don't spend your last days fighting the ones that matter the most."

Stiles stared at her. "You mean Malia?"

Before Lydia could answer, Scott, Erica, Kira, Boyd and Liam appeared, all deep in conversation, though they all stopped talking when they saw Stiles.

"There you are," said Scott.

"Hey."

A moment of awkwardness hung around them. Stiles beamed at Lydia and then his friends. "Lydia invited us to a... party." They stared at him in surprise, and Stiles could almost see the wheels of speculation turning in their heads. Erica's face darkened a little, but like the others, she said nothing.

They all followed Lydia's directions to a doorway in one of the far wings of the lodge. It held a staircase that led down — and down and down — to a dark room with flashing colorful lights where a bunch of rich half-breeds were having the time of their lives.

"Why is Liam with you?" Stiles whispered to Scott.

"He was talking to Erica when we were getting ready to leave," he returned. "It seemed mean to just... I don't know... leave him..."

Stiles glanced over. Obvious signs of grief were written all over his face, but Liam seemed at least momentarily distracted by whatever Erica was telling him.

"I thought you didn't know Lydia Martin," Scott added.

"I don't," Stiles answered. "This is all... circumstantial."

Lydia didn't even stay around them, choosing to join a group of girls that were dancing. The music wasn't so loud they couldn't talk to each other. And once the drinking started, people started to sort of yell whatever they were thinking.

"You want to lead an army against the Vampires?" Kira suddenly asked Erica. The two had been talking among each other for the past fifteen minutes, but Stiles hadn't paid attention until now.

"It was your hot uncle who suggested it," Erica reminded Kira.

"No. He said we should find the Vampires before they find us again," countered Kira. "He wasn't the one pushing for novices fighting."

Stiles turned to Erica. "You think that's a good idea?"

"What else are we doing?" she asked indignantly. "What are you doing? You run laps with Tate every morning. What's that doing for you? For the half-breeds?"

Making my heart race and my mind have indecent thoughts, Stiles answered mentally.

"We aren't ready," he said instead.

"We've only got six more months," piped in Boyd.

Erica nodded in agreement. "Yeah. How much more can we learn?"

"Plenty," said Stiles, finishing his drink. "Besides, where does it stop? Let's say they end school six months early, then send us off. What next? They decide to push back further and cut our senior year?"

She shrugged. "I'm already older than Tate," she justified herself. "If she can do it, I can do it. I'm not afraid to fight. I could have taken on Vampires when I was a sophomore."

Stiles decided to believe that was just the liquor talking.

"Never thought I'd live to see the day when I agreed with you, Stiles," said Kira. "But sadly, I do. The half-breeds have got to start helping us defend themselves. It's the only way."

"With magic?" asked Liam suddenly.

It was the first time he spoke and nobody answered him. There was a funny sort of hope in his eyes and Stiles could only imagine what he'd gone through today. He'd woken up to learn his parents were dead and then been subjected to hours and hours of political bantering and battle strategies.

"I suppose," said Stiles finally.

After a few more drinks, Erica seemed really, really cute to Stiles all of a sudden. He would have liked a little romantic attention from her, but Erica was still going on about Vampires and the logistics of leading a strike in the middle of the day. Liam and Boyd were nodding along with her eagerly. Kira thought a sort of preemptive strike would require guardians and half-breeds. Erica, Liam, and Boyd argued that if the half-breeds weren't up to it, the guardians should take matters into their own hands.

Stiles needed another drink. He stood up and climbed over the edge of the pool. The world started spinning. As he walked, Stiles paid special attention to his feet, trying not to stagger. Then he walked into someone.

"Hey, watch it," he said, steadying himself.

But the guy wasn't paying attention to Stiles. His eyes were on another guy, a guy with a bloody nose.

"You're afraid!" he yelled. "You're all afraid. You just want to hole up in your mansions and let the guardians do your dirty work. What are you going to do when they're all dead? Who'll protect you then?"

The other guy wiped the blood off his face with the back of his hand, tried to land a hit and failed. "This is the safest way. Listen to that Vampire-lover, and we'll all be dead. He's trying to kill our whole race off!"

"He's trying to save us!"

"He's trying to get us to use offensive magic!" The first guy punched the other again, and for some reason, Stiles leapt into action. He sprang forward and wedged himself between them. He was still dizzy and a bit unsteady. They both hesitated, clearly caught off guard.

"Get out of here," snapped Bloody Nose.

Stiles pushed them aside. The first guy glared and took a step toward him. "What are you doing?" he exclaimed. People around were starting to notice the fight — even with the darkness and the loud music.

Stiles returned his glare. "I'm trying to stop you guys from being any more idiotic than you already are! You want to help? Stop fighting each other! Ripping each other's heads off isn't going to save anyone unless you're trying to thin stupidity out of the gene pool. And Derek Hale is not trying to kill everyone off. He's trying to get you to stop being a victim." Stiles turned to the first guy. "And as for you, you've got a long way to go if you think this is the way to get your point across."

The two guys stared at him, stunned. Except when their shock wore off the two of them decided to unite in order to beat Stiles up. He was on the ground before you could say 'pain-is-the-infinity-curse-of-a-lonely-heart'. He felt a foot slam hard against his stomach which almost made him throw up.

Then Erica was there — obviously not as drunk as Stiles was — punching the first guy. He flew backward, falling on the ground beside Stiles. Erica shoved Bloody Nose hard, pushing him into several half-breeds. The first guy managed to get up, fury written all over his face, and made moves toward Erica. This time, Scott and Kira blocked his way. He glared at all of them.

"Don't," Scott warned him.

The guy clenched his fists and looked as though he might try to take them on. But, with a few muttered threats, the he backed off.

As soon as he was gone, Erica knelt beside Stiles. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Huh?" he asked.

"Jumping into the middle of that!"

"You jumped in too," he said.

"Yeah, someone had to do something before your entire body got covered with bruises." She leaned forward. "Are you drunk?"

"No. Of course not." Stiles tried to get up and winced. Great. At least now the rest of himself would match the black eye his dad had given him and the swollen lip Malia had given him. "And just because you have delusions of being able to kill a Vampire doesn't mean you have to take it out on everyone else."

There it was again. The anger. The words that came out of nowhere. Words he didn't really mean. Or did he?

"Delusions?" Erica asked stiffly.

Stiles' nausea got worse just then. His head was spinning, but he still tried to get up. That's when all the vomit came out.