A/N: Thanks to everyone who checked in for the last chapter after such a long wait. Thank you especially to my most recent reviewers and readers.

Firstly, a big hello and thank you to the new readers, followers and favouriters (that's not a word). I have email notifications each time anyone follows or favourites me or my stories, and I get butterflies with each and every one, so thank you!

To the Italian (I think?) Guest, Grazie! I'm glad you enjoy this story enough to keep coming back for more! Sorry it took so long to get back to you all, but hopefully it's onto bigger and better things from here. Spero che il resto della storia ti piaccia e non vedo l'ora di risentirti! Ti amo! (sorry if I butchered that, I used Google translate)

To MissLynn11, I am doing well now, I just had some less than stellar moments for a while there. I'm glad to be picking this up again now, even if it's taken me a while. I missed writing, I missed this story, and I missed reading the comments I would get from readers like you. So thank you for checking in, and for being patient. I'm glad you love this story, that's really all I could even wish for - hopefully you love the rest too.

To lilymay97, your whole review had me grinning from ear to ear (I'm still grinning like an idiot writing this). I know it was a long old wait for anyone that was enjoying the story back when I was updating (somewhat) regularly, and I hate to think that people would start reading this story, and then be left hanging for so long, but I'm glad to be back, and I really hope you continue to enjoy this as much as you have. I'm still grinning. My cheeks hurt.

I love you all!

I don't own Teen Wolf. Shock Horror.

At a guess, I'd say that I slept for, oh, approximately fifteen years after that doozy of a day.

When I did, eventually, wake up, I was eternally grateful to do so. If I achieved nothing else that day, I woke up - which is almost more than I managed to do the day before, so... Perspective, you know?

I managed to drag myself out of bed, my whole body still aching. My neck hurt the worst, which was understandable, given what happened, but, oh my lord, did my entire body hurt. Right down to the bone. It hurt so much I contemplated staying in bed for a while longer, but I had work to do, spells to research, friends to save... and I was pretty sure I smelled pancakes being cooked downstairs, and I was not about to miss out on that.

I pulled a sweatshirt over my head and managed to drag my ass downstairs to find that I was, in fact, correct. Pancakes were being made, with Daddy at the helm. He smiled as I wandered into the kitchen, seating myself at the breakfast bar.

"How did you sleep?" he asked me, reaching for a plate.

I wanted to make a joke, and if it were anyone else, I would have responded with 'like the dead', but I knew Daddy wouldn't appreciate it. At least, not so soon.

"Great," I said instead, putting my head in my palm, elbow on the bar top. "But you'd know that, because I'm sure you checked on me every five minutes during the night."

He laughed a little. It was the best sound. "Maybe every ten."

"How'd you know I'd be up in time for pancakes?" I asked as he slid a plate of the glorious food in front of me, a pot of syrup following close behind. "Was I stirring during your last checkup?"

Daddy raised an eyebrow. "You ain't up in time for pancakes," he said, sipping his coffee after pouring one for me. "You're up because you smelled pancakes." I frowned, mouth already full. Instead of asking what he meant, I had to hum in confusion. He got the message. "You have never once stayed in bed while pancakes are cooking. It's like the smell works better than an alarm for you. Josh is the same. Why do you think we've always made pancakes on the first day of school?"

I swallowed. "Because we really like pancakes, and you felt bad for us?"

"Nope," Daddy laughed, shaking his head. "After each and every break from school you've had - be it one week or ten - both of you have been nightmares to get out of bed on the first morning back to school. All the annoying alarms in the world won't wake either of you. And yet, somehow, the smell of pancakes does."

"Interesting," I murmured.

"Not the word I'd use," Daddy said, smiling again. "But sure. So I figured I'd let you sleep in until twelve, and then wake you up the only way I know how."

I nearly choked on my pancake. "It's twelve?" I searched around me for my phone, which was no use because I had left it upstairs, before instead leaning across the bar and grabbing Daddy's wrist, checking the watch he wore. Twelve o'clock, indeed. "You should have made pancakes hours ago!"

"Darling, you needed your sleep," he said quietly, resting a hand on my arm when I moved to stand up, to do something. I wasn't sure what, exactly, but I was suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of urgency. Time was a-wasting, after all. And who knows what had happened while I slept. Daddy seemed to read my mind. "Your friends have kept us in the loop with everything that's gone on. They haven't found Stiles yet, but everyone's looking. Bonnie and Jeremy are out with them, so that you can stay here and rest."

Though I was disappointed that they hadn't found Stiles yet, I was at least pleased that nothing had happened while I was out. At least this way, they hadn't had to make do without me. Yet.

"You know, I've learnt a lot over the last few hours," Daddy continued, adding another pancake to my plate. "I think I'm starting to get a grip of the whole werewolf-witch thing. I mean, the demons are still spinning me out, but something's better than nothing, right?"

I smiled, trying to put Stiles and the search for him to the back of my mind. "You're adapting real well, Daddy. Better than I expected."

"Better than I expected, too," he scoffed, looking up for a second as Josh walked in from the back door. "It's all certainly a lot less overwhelming."

'Where've you been?" I asked Josh, concerned. After what had happened yesterday, what the Nogitsune had threatened... The thought of Josh out in the woods, alone, had my heart rate hiking up.

In response, Josh lifted the small basket in his arms, filled with herbs from the garden. "Bonnie gave me a recipe for a drink. She said it should help you feel better. Ease some of the pain."

"A drink?" Daddy asked, leaning back against the counter. "Or a magic potion."

I lifted a finger, pointed it in his direction. "You're asking all the right questions there."

"It's just a drink," Josh answered, lowering the basket into the sink, ready to wash the herbs. "No magic involved, just natural, pain-relieving ingredients. Speaking of magic, though..."

As Josh trailed off, Daddy and I glanced at one another.

"That ain't a sentence you can start and not finish in this household, son."

Josh cleared his throat. "So, yesterday morning, when..." Josh gestured in my direction, not wanting to voice his thoughts.

I think we both understood, though. When I died...

'Well," Josh continued, after Daddy and I both nodded. "When that happened, I woke up, and it was like... It was like I knew. I knew something bad had happened, and I knew it involved you."

I frowned, not sure I liked where this was going. His words sounded a lot like my own had a whole lifetime ago, when my magic first started appearing.

"I didn't know what exactly had happened. But I knew you were in trouble, and I was really, really sad. And I had this weird tingling in my fingers, and it spread all up my hands and my arms, it was weird."

My breath hitched in my throat. "The tingling... Was it like your hands had gone to sleep?" Josh nodded quickly.

"Yeah, and it was like a kind of rush through my whole body, and I was hyper aware of everything, and then it just stopped." Josh looked at me for a second, bit the inside of his cheek. "I'd say I have no idea what caused it, but..."

"But that's what magic feels like to me."

There was silence in the kitchen for what felt like eons.

Finally, Daddy cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Josh felt what?"

Before we could even begin to dissect that, Josh's phone vibrated in his hand. He looked down at it for a second, his eyes flicking back to mine before answering.

"Hey Scott," he answered, his voice quiet. He nodded, the other end of the line infuriatingly too quiet for me to hear. Then he looked back to me, his eyebrows high. He didn't bother to move the phone away from his ear as he relayed the message to me.

They had found Stiles.

Lydia and Jackson had been out looking for Stiles when, possibly due to her oh-so-mysterious Banshee powers, Lydia had just... stumbled upon him. Completely by accident. He was passed out in a parking lot, his stomach cut open.

Scott's mom had looked over him, and physically he was fine, he was healing. But other than that... It wasn't Stiles anymore. Not even a little. There was none of him in there anymore. They were doing everything they could; Scott had even brought in Deaton and Peter, of all people, to see what could be done for Stiles. But I was starting to worry this was all too little, too late. We were all so worried, so focused on how to get Stiles back, but... What if there wasn't any Stiles left to save anymore? What if it was just this demon wearing a Stiles suit, and that was all? What if, if we somehow managed to get the demon out, Stiles was just... gone?

Scott had, somehow, managed to convince me not to go to the McCall house. He thought it best if the Nogitsune still thought I was dead, just like Mr Argent had suggested. It's not like I would have been of any help anyway. I probably would have passed out on the way there.

So, instead, I decided to busy myself with my own research. Despite how much I sucked at it.

"What kind of spell are you looking for, exactly?" Bonnie asked me, sitting cross-legged on my bedroom floor with me, the many, many sheets of photocopies of my grimoire laid about between us. "One to exorcise a demon?"

I hummed. "Maybe? If I'm honest, I don't really know." I blew out a breath. This wasn't my specialty. This was Stiles' specialty. Stiles was the researcher - I just did the practical stuff. "Anything that can help. Deaton said that to expel the Nogitsune, we'd have to change it first, so... I guess, ideal scenario, we find a spell that can temporarily change a living, human form, without killing it, or really damaging it beyond repair." I huffed. "Is that too much to ask?"

Bonnie smiled for a second, cocked her head. "Maybe not," she hummed, before getting to her feet and leaving the room. I watched her go, hoping that she would explain herself.

She didn't.

"Okay, this one is definitely a daylight ring," Jeremy said from my desk, rifling through the contents of my mom's chest. Currently, he was working on the jewellery in there, but I was looking forward to getting an expert analysis on the whole contents. "I've seen enough of them in my time."

"Those are the rings that let vampires hang out in the sunlight without getting burnt up, right?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder. I caught his nod.

"And I think this one is a moonlight ring." I wracked my brain for any memory of that description, but came up empty. Jeremy seemed to sense my confusion. "These might not work on your kind of werewolves. But for the breeds that we're used to, a ring like this means they don't shift at all on the full moon. They stay completely human."

"Which is useful for your werewolves, because they can't learn to control the shift like my werewolves can."

Jeremy nodded again. "Exactly."

Bonnie popped back into the room, a smile on her face, a large book in her arms.

"Did I bore you or something?" I asked her as she got back down to my level on the floor. She dropped the book she held between us, and it looked awfully similar to an old book I used to own. I pouted. "I miss my grimoire."

"We can help you start a new one, once everything is back to normal," Bonnie promised, a small smile passed between us as she flicked through her book. I nearly scoffed. What even is normal anymore? "In the meantime... I don't know if yours had this spell, and even if it did, there's no guarantee it was one of the pages Josh photocopied. But..." She paused as the book fell open on a particular page, flipped the book around so I could read the text. "Here. It's a metamorphosis spell."

My eyebrows shot up, and I stared at Bonnie for a second. She smiled again.

"Metamorphosis?" I repeated, unsure. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt hope bloom in my chest. "As in, transformation?"

Bonnie nodded. "It can transform a physical form into something completely different, if done correctly. However..." I groaned. I hated howevers. "It's a really, really powerful spell. It would take more magic and more strength than any other spell you've ever done. I don't know if you'd manage it in this state."

I rested a hand on the page, reading through the description. Though it didn't seem like a big, complicated spell, magic could be deceiving. Just because a spell had no strange language to try to pronounce, or sigils to draw, did not mean it would be easy. But the alternative... We needed a way to change Stiles' form, in a way that wouldn't kill him, and wouldn't cause permanent damage. Short of turning him into a werewolf, like Scott had mentioned, I didn't see any other options here. And even if Stiles would be okay with that... the bite could still kill him.

"Amber," Bonnie said quietly, her eyes soft. "I know this is important to you, and you want to figure this out, but..." She paused, took a breath. "A spell like this could kill you. Trying to do magic way out of my league was what killed me."

I nodded. I'd felt the whiplash from magic too strong for me more than once. It had never been a great experience, but each time, it had been worth it. It had been for someone else, to help them, and that was worth it. How was now any different?

"Why did you do it?" I asked Bonnie, watching her eyes flick to Jeremy behind me. I smiled.

"Jeremy had died sometime before," she started, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"What is it with the two of you and rising from the dead?"

Bonnie joined me with her own small laugh. "We're both martyrs, apparently." The pair shared a look, quiet and intimate, before Bonnie continued. "I was doing magic far too strong for me to bring him back. I thought I could handle it. I couldn't, and I died."

"But it worked," I pointed out, looking back to the man in question. "He's alive, because you brought him back."

"Yes, but-"

"Do you regret it?" I asked her, before she could try to talk me out of this. She was still for a moment, and then shook her head. "Would you do it again?"

She smiled now, watching him again. "In a heartbeat."

I nodded. My mind was made up. "If we don't do something, Stiles will die. And, as if that ain't enough, who even knows what other chaos would follow that thing. If something happens to me, then... so be it. As of yesterday, I shouldn't be here anyway. But if it will give us a chance to save Stiles and stop this thing, I'm doing it."

Bonnie watched me for a second. I think she was hoping I would change my mind. I, on the other hand, was hoping that she wouldn't rat me out to Daddy, so he could lock me up somewhere. Finally, though, she realised I was sticking with this. "Okay. I can help you prepare, then. You'll need to heal as much as you can in the meantime to stand any chance of surviving magic like this, so you need to rest."

I nodded, scanning over the page again. "There's no incantation," I realised suddenly, feeling a slight twinge of worry. I wasn't all that great at non-verbal magic. Anybody else remember my struggles lighting a single candle just earlier this year? That was supposed to be kindergarten stuff, and I only managed it because I seriously wanted to injure Stiles.

I could only hope that the thought of Stiles would be enough for me to succeed here, too.

Bonnie opened her mouth, probably to try to ease my worries (in vain, I'm sure). But, before she could speak, my phone rang beside me, causing me to jump about a mile. Scott's name and face flashed up on my screen, and I was almost too scared to answer it. What if it wasn't good news? What if we were already too late?

After it rang a few too many times, Bonnie cursed, reached over and answered it for me, holding it to my ear.

"Amber," I heard Scott call as I took the phone in my own hands, smiling gratefully at the girl in front of me. I cleared my throat.

"Hey, Scott," I answered, trying desperately to keep my breathing slow and steady. "Any news?"

"Yeah," Scott said, a little out of breath. "We got him out. We got Stiles out."

While I cried silently, Scott filled me in on everything that had happened.

He and Lydia, on Peter's suggestion, had gone into Stiles' mind and, by some miracle, they had pulled him out.

It apparently had been no easy feat, and pulling Stiles out had resulted in the Nogitsune taking its own, very real form that looked just like Stiles, and then disappearing with Lydia. We had no idea how strong this thing was now, without being tied to Stiles' body. Without the need for Stiles' body. We had no idea where it had gone, or what it wanted with Lydia, or what it's plan was now.

But Stiles was back. He wasn't okay, but he was back, and he was alive, and he was Stiles.

Scott was still concerned that there was a link between the Nogitsune and Stiles. That it would know I were alive if Stiles saw me. So I agreed once again that I would stay home, out of sight, and rest.

This time, though, I was lying.

As Scott opened the front door of his house, as his worried eyes landed on me, his jaw tightened. He was pissed.

"What are you doing here?" he bit out, his face barely moving. "You were supposed to stay home. You're supposed to be resting."

"I'm fine," I told him, almost truthfully. While I was far from fine, I felt a lot better than I could remember feeling in a while. Stiles was back.

"You're not fine," he argued, shaking his head. He looked over my shoulder to Bonnie and Jeremy, and shook his head some more. "You were supposed to be keeping an eye on her."

"Technically," Jeremy responded, taking a few steps forward. "We are still keeping an eye on her."

I don't think Scott appreciated his point quite as much as Jeremy may have hoped.

Before Scott could snap, though, Bonnie held up the thermos in her hand, shook it a little so the liquid inside swirled. "I have something for Stiles. It's the same sort of thing we gave Amber yesterday, so it should at least ease any pain he's in."

Scott nodded, let the two of them pass him - though, he may not have moved entirely out of the way for Jeremy. I swallowed.

"Is he in a lot of pain?" I asked him, folding my arms over my chest. I didn't like that thought of that.

Scott, finally, smiled a little. "He's not really talking about it, but he's cold. He can't seem to get warm."

I nodded, but all I really wanted to do was cry again. That couldn't be a great sign.

"Amber, we don't even know if this is him," Scott said quietly, stepping closer to me. "We don't know which of them is really Stiles."

"Stiles wouldn't run off with Lydia," I started, immediately realising how wrong I was.

"He would if he thought she were in danger," he said, voicing my own thoughts.

"Would he leave you behind?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "Would he leave your mom behind?"

Scott sighed. "Okay, so say it is him. What if there is some sort of link, between Stiles and the Nogitsune? What if, the second Stiles knows you're alive, the Nogitsune does too?"

I had been planning my argument to that question the entire ride over here. I didn't have a good stance, but I had my points. They were logical, and well reasoned, and threefold. But standing here, unsteadily, knowing Stiles was just inside... My Stiles was in there... I realised I didn't care.

"So what?" I asked Scott, shrugging a shoulder.

Scott blinked. "So what?" he repeated, like he hadn't heard me right. "So, we lose our advantage."

I scoffed. "That thing is a thousand years old and has been playing us like violins since the beginning. Any 'advantage' we could ever have over it is a pipe dream, Scott. I could turn up, out of the blue, and surprise him for all of three milliseconds before he squashes me like a bug." I let Scott stew on that for a moment. It was a sad, but very real, truth. One I think we'd forgotten for a while. The spell from Bonnie's grimoire had given me some hope, but... Honestly, what sort of match were we, compared to that thing? "I need to see Stiles."

Honestly, I thought Scott would argue with me a bit longer. But I think he could tell that I did really need to see him. To know it was him.

Scott nodded, led me into the house and closed the door behind us.

"He's in my room," he said quietly, tipping his head towards the direction of the staircase. "Mom's gonna check him over in a minute." I nodded, nervous as I made my way up the stairs. It felt like forever since I had last seen Stiles. Technically, it had only been a day. Since I'd seen his face, at least. But it had been weeks, maybe months, since Stiles had really been himself. And it felt even longer.

I hesitated outside Scott's bedroom door, butterflies in my stomach before I took a deep, somewhat steadying breath, and went inside.

Stiles didn't notice me straight away. He was sitting cross legged in the middle of Scott's bed, staring at his hands in his lap. He looked smaller than I remembered him being. Maybe he'd lost weight in all of this. Maybe it was just in my head. I stood and simply watched for a solid minute or so, too frightened to move or speak, in case I woke up and realised that the last few hours had been a dream, that Stiles was still missing, and we had no plan. I just watched him fiddle with his own fingers, watched him run his hands through his hair, watched his knee bounce. Watched him just be for a minute.

Eventually, though, I cleared my throat, catching his attention.

He dragged his head up, barely, and it took a few seconds for his eyes to focus on me. But when they did, his mouth dropped open a little. I was hoping that when I got to see Stiles again, I would have something great to say. Something smart, or charming , or funny. Something that would make him smile, even for a second. Instead, all I managed to come up with was-

"Hey."

Nice one, Am.

"Hey," Stiles said in return, eyes wide. He shifted to face me better, wincing a little as he did.

I took a few steps forward, dropped down onto the bed too. "You should be careful," I chastised, as though I wasn't a total hypocrite. "Try not to move so much. Though I know that's basically impossible-"

I didn't get to finish my sentence, though I'm sure Stiles got the point. Instead, I was silenced when Stiles all but launched over to me, wrapping his arms around me in a vice that rivalled my Daddy's.

It felt real good.

"How..." I heard Stiles mumble into my hair. I shifted, got a little more comfortable on his shoulder. "How are you not-"

"I was," I answered honestly, trying very hard not to recall too much of what had happened only yesterday. I heard Stiles sniff.

"So how are you here now?"

I shrugged a little. "It's kind of a long story." I shook my head a little then, against his shoulder. "Actually, it's not, it's just weird. There's this old, like, church, I think. Just by Eichen House. Apparently a load of witches died there, and I went there for, I don't know, advice? And I guess they cast a spell on me that meant, if something happened, I could come back." I shrugged again, not wanting to move too much in case Stiles pulled away. "That's what I wanted to tell you, that night at your house, just before you checked yourself into Eichen House. When I asked if it was a good idea to tell you something that was super cool and maybe helpful, and you said absolutely not. I wanted to tell you about the witches. I like talking to you about that stuff. The others don't get it in the same way you do." I paused for a moment, allowing Stiles a second to respond.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. I pressed my eyes together, tight. "I'm so sorry. I didn't... I tried to-"

"I know," I cut in, reluctantly pulling back so he could see my face. So he could see I meant it. "It wasn't you."

Stiles scoffed, his eyes more than a little moist. "It felt like me. I remember it like it was me."

"But it wasn't," I said again, putting my hands over his where they rested between us. "You wouldn't hurt me."

He clenched his jaw, shook his head, and refused to look me in the eye. "I bet it look like I hurt you."

I couldn't really argue with him there.

"It can look like you all it wants," I said, determined. Stiles would not be scarred by this. Not if I could help it. "I knew it wasn't you, and I meant what I said. It wasn't your fault, and I didn't blame you. I don't blame you."

"I blame me."

My chest tightened. "Then you're giving it exactly what it wants. And, besides," I said, waving a hand as I tried to lighten the mood. "I'm alive, so this is all a moo point."

The joke did what I hoped it would, and Stiles frowned at me, the tiniest hint of a smile hovering around his eyes. "A what?"

"A moo point," I repeated, smiling myself. "It's like a cow's opinion. It doesn't matter." Finally, finally, Stiles smiled and it was like the sun had come out on a rainy day. "It's moo."

Stiles shook his head at me in that amused and exasperated way I had become so fond of, and for a second, I almost convinced myself that everything was fine, and that we were back where we were just a few months ago. Just barely friends, but enough to laugh at each other's jokes and to let the other help when we needed it. Jackson was getting better with each full moon, and Lydia was happy and not burdened with all the awful knowledge she now had, would always have. Allison's biggest problem was trying to figure out which adoring boy she liked more. Scott was trying to be a better student, a better son, and succeeding. We were all worried about the PSATs and nothing else.

Erica and Boyd were alive, and happy, somewhere far away from here.

Before I could fall too far into that fantasy, Stiles' attention was drawn to someone behind me. I turned, saw Mrs McCall in the doorway, medical equipment in hand.

"I need to check him over, make sure he's okay," she said in way of explanation. I nodded, turning back to Stiles with what I hoped was a natural, not at all forced, smile.

The one he returned was definitely less natural, but I had to give him credit for trying.

"Have I mentioned already that I think this is a really stupid idea?"

Stiles rolled his eyes as we got to the bottom of the staircase, Scott's arm steadying him. "Yes. About thirteen hundred times. But it's the best way to make sure it's actually out of me."

"Like, really stupid," I clarified, ignoring Stiles' long suffering sigh. "Like, rivals checking yourself into Eichen House kind of stupid. Rivals thinking you could deal with Scott's werewolf-ism with handcuffs and a dog bowl kind of stupid. Rivals-"

"I get it," Stiles cut in, his eyes narrow. Scott's mom tried to hold back a laugh. "I've done a lot of stupid stuff."

"My next point was going to be about Scott, actually, but yeah."

"Hey," the boy in question whined, a pout on his face. "My ideas aren't that stupid."

Stiles and I locked eyes for a second, feeling bad for the poor guy. "Sure they're not, buddy," Stiles said, patting his shoulder.

"They're getting better," I added with a smile. Scott's pout deepened. "Less people dying each time. This one, though..." I turned back to Stiles, who rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure this is the worst idea you've ever had. Actually, scratch that. I'm pretty sure this is the worst idea anyone has ever had."

Stiles scoffed. "Someone, somewhere, decided that single-ply toilet paper was a good idea," Stiles said, shrugging a shoulder. "How is this worse?"

I almost laughed. Almost. "You could literally die."

"Single ply toilet paper," he repeated, his eyes widening as I whined. "Single. One ply. And they sent that to the consumer masses."

"They'll only kill him if he isn't himself," the voice I had been dreading said from behind me. I turned, and even in the dark living room of the McCall house, I could make out the shape of Kira's mother, standing in the centre of the room. "They just want to test him."

They being the Oni, those tall, shadowy figures that had come out of nowhere and attacked each of us, branded us, at Danny's Halloween party. They had belonged to her. Had been working on her orders this whole time, searching for the Nogitsune. Turns out, they had never actually checked the one person they needed to the most.

"Yeah, well," I murmured, lifting a hand to feel the mark branded into the skin behind my ear. "The test ain't exactly a walk along the beach now, is it?"

"I don't really like the beach, anyway," Stiles murmured, moving around me.

"How can you not like the beach?" I questioned. I actually felt offended. I loved the beach.

"I mean, the water, for starters," he said, and, okay, that was fair. Stiles was terrified of water, so that made sense. "And I hate sand. It gets everywhere, it's not comfortable to sit on. Sometimes, when it's really hot, you can't even walk on it without burning your feet, and-"

"Alright, Anakin, we get it," I cut in before he could continue. There were, after all, more pressing matters at hand. "You don't like sand. Is there no other way to do this?"

As Kira rushed into the room, stopping abruptly next to her mother, the older woman shook her head. "This is the only way."

"There has got to be a spell that can do the same thing."

"Yeah, and you could spend days looking for something, and still come up empty handed," Stiles pointed out, and have I mentioned that I hate it when he's being the logical one? "And in that time, if it is still in me, I could kill countless other people. Or, we could just... let them test me now, and then we know."

I nodded, not wanting to say what I was sure we were all thinking, but needed to anyway. "And what if it is still in you. Even just a little bit. Then what?" Stiles swallowed, turned to look back to Kira's mother.

"Then they will kill you."

"Mom," Kira said, tugging on the woman's arm. "You can't do this."

"It is already done," she said simply, just as the room seemed to grow darker.

I didn't have to look around to know the Oni had arrived - I could feel the shift, the chill in the air. I turned to Stiles again, ready to plead with him to back out, to run, just in case. But his eyes were steady, and he almost smiled as Scott grabbed my wrist, tugged me back towards him and his mom, out of the danger zone. He was sticking to this stupid decision, and there was nothing I could say to make him change his mind, even if it wasn't already too late.

The Oni didn't waste any time, approaching Stiles quicker than I could even see, reaching out to cup the back of his head in one hand. It only lasted a second, but I knew from personal experience that to Stiles, this would feel like forever.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Stiles collapsed the the floor, and the Oni were gone. It was done.

"Check him, behind his ear," Kira's mother said, otherwise not moving as her daughter rushed to Scott.

I rushed to Stiles' side, felt his cold arm shaking under my hand with each laboured breath. I was just grateful he was still breathing. Carefully, I moved his ear, pushed his hair out of the way, and heaved a sigh of relief to see the same pink mark on him that I had, that each of us had. The mark that meant self.

"I'm good?" I heard Stiles ask, almost too scared to be hopeful. I laughed a little, though the sound was breathy and embarrassingly wet.

"You're good," I said, helping him to sit up. "You're you."

"Are they going to find him?" Stiles asked Kira's mother, still shaking as Scott's mom pulled a blanket from the couch, wrapping it around his shoulders.

The woman shook her head. "Not now," she answered, much to our dismay. "It's nearly dawn. They will find him tomorrow night."

"What about Lydia?" I asked her, concerned for her safety now that we knew for sure that Stiles was Stiles. That meant that Lydia had to be with the Nogitsune. "What does he want with her?"

"I don't know," the woman answered honestly. "But he would only take her if he needed her."

Scott shook his head, confused. "What could he need her for?" He looked up to Kira's mother, questioning. "Her powers?"

"The power of a banshee," she agreed. "She has knowledge that no one else possesses. Knowledge is power, and while he has her, that power is his."

"That's good though, right?" Scott's mom asked, a hand on her son's shoulder. "If what he wants is knowledge, she's useless to him dead. He has to keep her alive."

Scott nodded. "That gives us time to find her. It gives the Oni time to find him, right?"

Kira's mother nodded, opened her mouth to speak, then shut it suddenly when something caught her eye. "Who is this?"

I turned, confused, and saw Bonnie and Jeremy stood in the doorway, the sun slowly rising through the window behind them and lightening the room.

"Oh, my lord," I whined, my hands on either side of my face. "I'm so sorry, I completely forgot that you guys were here." Bonnie smiled at my apology, while Jeremy simply stared, his eyes flicking from one corner of the room to the next. "You okay there, Jer?"

Jeremy nodded slightly, a smile lighting up his face. "That was awesome."

"How's the magic potion?"

Stiles' eyes widened. "Bonnie said it wasn't a potion. She said it was just a natural 'brew'." I grinned, only taking my eyes off the road for a second. I didn't need to. I could hear his panic.

"It is, I'm kidding," I said, laughing a little. "She can't even do magic anymore. I had the same 'brew' yesterday; it's really not the greatest, huh?"

Stiles smiled. It was a barely there kind of smile, but a smile nonetheless. "It's not something I would choose again. But I appreciate the gesture."

"Well, I appreciate you letting me drive Roscoe," I said, patting the steering wheel fondly. While the gesture could only mean that Stiles wasn't feeling strong or safe enough to drive - which only added to my growing list of worries - I had a nice, warm feeling in my chest knowing he trusted me with his most prized possession. I knew it wasn't something he bestowed on just anyone.

"And I do not appreciate being demoted to the back seat," Scott said quietly from the area in question.

"Yeah, it sucks back there," I agreed. "For such a big car, there's really not a lot of leg room."

"My legs are longer than yours," Scott whined, leaning between the two front seats. "I should be upfront."

Stiles sighed. "You're both lucky that I even let you in my car."

"How come Amber gets to drive?"

"I'm the better driver."

"My reflexes are quicker than yours."

"Yeah, that's great and all, but we wouldn't want you to crash Stiles' Jeep chasing a squirrel up a tree, would we?"

"Hey, guys?" Stiles cut in before Scott could verbalise whatever insult had come to mind. "Could you maybe do me a solid and shut up? For, you know, like five minutes. Just until we get to the station."

I shot Stiles a concerned glance, my mouth firmly shut. He seemed himself, which was good. But he was also pale, and he moved like it hurt to do so. Like he barely had the energy. "Sorry."

"Yeah, sorry man," Scott repeated, catching my eye in the rearview mirror as I returned my attention back to the road. I saw the same worry that I felt reflected on his face.

Stiles might be himself, but he wasn't okay. And now that we knew for sure that the Nogitsune was no longer in Stiles, we were left with the question with what the hell else was wrong.

Scott and I had decided to hang back, outside the Sheriff's office, to give the two Stilinski men some privacy. I couldn't remember the last time the Sheriff had seen his son - his actual son, and not the possessed body of his son - and we figured they both deserved a moment alone. From the hallway, through the window, Scott had given the Sheriff a nod, a small confirmation that Stiles was, in fact, Stiles, and the man hadn't wasted another second before rushing over and pulling his son into his arms.

I looked away, my throat tight. "I'm sorry about the squirrel comment," I said to Scott, just to be able to focus on anything other than the reunion going on inside the Sheriff's office.

"It was actually kinda funny," he said, smiling for a moment. "I'm worried about him too."

When I looked at him, I couldn't help the tears in my eyes. "When you said that thing was out of him, I thought that was it. Yeah, he wasn't feeling great, but who would after all of that? I just... I figured he'd start feeling better."

"If anything, I think he's getting worse. That drink from Bonnie helped with the pain, but he's walking around like he hasn't slept in weeks."

"Maybe he hasn't," I said, shrugging a shoulder and sniffing. "Or, even when he has had the chance to sleep, he probably hasn't slept well since the whole Nemeton thing."

Scott nodded, folding his arms over his chest. "He's cold, too. Like, all the time. I don't know what to do."

"I hate to say this, Scott," I started, my throat seemingly growing smaller. "But I'm starting to think there isn't anything we can do."

"There's always something," Scott started to say, but I was already shaking my head.

"This isn't a rogue alpha or some crazy hunters, Scott. It's a thousand year old demon possessing our friend." I sucked in a deep breath. "We know nothing about any of this."

Scott's jaw tensed. "We know to destroy him, we need to change him first." My head continued to shake back and forth.

"Firstly, how do we even go about 'changing' a creature that is a thousand years old and can clearly change its form anyway?" I asked. "It obviously hasn't always looked like Stiles. At one point, it might not have looked like anything - maybe it's more of a spiritual being, rather than a physical one. How do we change something we can't touch?" Scott didn't seem to like my questions. "Secondly, that was to expel it. To get it out from Stiles, we needed to change Stiles' body. Bonnie even knows of a spell that could do that, which is great. But that isn't our issue anymore."

"He has his own form now," Scott argued, starting to pace. "Maybe that means that changing the form will still work. Maybe it makes him vulnerable."

"Scott, we can't plan on a maybe."

Scott shook his head. "What other option do we have?" he asked. "I don't know anything for sure right now. I don't know what's happening with Stiles, or how to help him. I don't know what the Nogitsune wants with Lydia, or with any of us, and I don't know how to stop it. What are we supposed to do? Sit around and do nothing? Let it wreak havoc?"

"I don't know," I said honestly, tears building up in eyes again. "This is way out of our league."

"Wasn't everything?" Scott said quietly, pausing in front of me. "When this all started, I thought dealing with Peter was out of our league. Then the Kanima. Then the human sacrifices and the alpha pack." I tipped my head - he made a good point. "Yeah, we barely made it through each time, but we did make it. We figured it out. We'll figure this out too."

I took a deep breath, and nodded. I wasn't entirely sure he was right, but... What else could we do? I had a feeling going home and hiding under the covers until this was all over wouldn't work out too well. Although, it was awfully tempting.

"Okay," Scott said, his hands on his hips and a renewed energy in his eyes. "Tell me about this spell Bonnie found."

"Okay, we've got an APB out on Lydia's car. We'll find it."

"So what do we do in the meantime?" Stiles asked his dad, leaning against the Sheriff's desk. I looked at Scott for a moment.

"There's not much else you can do at this hour, son."

"Maybe you should go home," I suggested, shrugging a shoulder when Stiles looked at me as though I had grown a second head. "You should get some rest."

"I don't need rest," he said, shaking his head. "I need to find Lydia."

"I can try and find Lydia," I tried, stepping closer. "I really think you should try and get some sleep while we look for her."

Stiles opened his mouth, to argue with me, I'm sure, when the Sheriff cut in. "No, you can't help with this."

For a moment, I was about to thank the Sheriff for backing me up on this. Then, when I looked at him, I realised he was talking to me. "What?"

"Bonnie said no magic," Scott answered for him, the two of them sharing a look. "Under any circumstances."

"Lydia was abducted by a literal demon," I reminded them. "We have no idea where she is, or what he could be doing to her, and you're telling me I can't try a simple locating spell?"

The Sheriff nodded. "That's exactly what we're saying." I opened my mouth to argue, but he held up a hand, and, honestly? I have no idea how Stiles grew up to be such a delinquent, because my mouth snapped shut of it's own accord. "No magic. We'll figure this out the old fashioned way. Scott, you know more about this than any of us." At Scott's blank stare, the Sheriff elaborated. "You said you got the whole story from Noshiko."

"Well, yeah," Scott answered, sounding unsure. "But that whole thing happened, like, seventy years ago."

Stiles perked. "Wait, what did you say?" Scott turned to him, spared me a small glance.

"Yeah, Kira's mom. She told me the whole story about the Nogitsune, and-"

"No, no, not that," Stiles murmured, shaking his head, his eyes roaming the room, not quite focusing on anything. "The whole story. There's a girl, at Eichen House - Meredith. I think she might be able to help."

"Help how?" I questioned as the Sheriff left the room, wary when Stiles began to pace the room. I really don't know how he had the energy to do that.

"When I was there, I heard her talking on the phone - to no one, by the way. The phone didn't work. But she said something about telling the whole story."

"So how is that supposed to help?" Scott asked. "Like you said, she wasn't talking to anyone."

I sighed, nodding. "You know anyone else who thinks she's hearing people speak when no one is actually there?"

"Lydia," Scott said after a beat. "So you think this Meredith knows something that might help us?"

Stiles shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know, but it's the only lead we've got right now."

"Parrish is on the phone to Eichen House now," the Sheriff said as he came back into the room. "He'll let us know what he finds out."

"Will just the name be enough to work with?" Scott asked the Sheriff.

"Not usually, but it's a small pool. I guess we'll find out."

I leaned back against the Sheriff's desk. "How long does this sort of stuff usually take?"

"Sheriff!" Parrish called, striding up to the office.

The Sheriff smiled at me. "Not long."

"Her name is Meredith Walker."

"Is she still there?" the Sheriff asked.

Parrish nodded. "Yes, but they've moved her to the closed unit."

"Why?"

"They said 'behavioural issues'," Parrish said, shrugging a shoulder.

Stiles frowned. "What kind of issues?"

Parrish paused, a sympathetic look on his face. "She wouldn't stop screaming."

I looked to Stiles, my eyes wide. "That's not going to be a coincidence, is it?"

While the Sheriff went to speak to Meredith at Eichen House, we each went back to our own homes - on the Sheriff's orders. He had told us to get some sleep, but we all knew that would be futile. We did figure we should shower and change though, and maybe try to get something to eat. It had been a long few days, for everyone.

Well, except for me, of course. I had either slept through, or was dead for, most of the last two days.

Still, I had followed those orders and gone home to shower - and then immediately returned to Scott's house.

Apparently, Stiles had done the same.

"Dad's gonna call me as soon as he knows anything," he told me while Scott made us all coffee. "Have you spoken to Jackson or Allison yet?"

I shook my head, and checked my phone again. "They'll find something. I'm feeling pretty useless right now, though. It's the worst possible time to not be able to do magic." Stiles scoffed.

"Yeah, wait until you've felt that way for an entire year while everyone else kicks ass - then we can talk."

I laughed a little. "If it's any consolation, I don't think any of us would get anything done without you."

"I'm sure you would have lit that candle on your own eventually."

"You don't know that," I said, pointing a finger. "However, I do know that we would not be where we are now if it weren't for you. Scott probably still wouldn't know that he was a werewolf. I'd be in Eichen House, thinking I was losing my mind. Lydia would be there with me."

"Speaking of Eichen House," Stiles interrupted, a small smile on his face. He looked tired. "Thank you for your note. The one you got to me while I was in there. The one where you called me stupid."

"I called your plan stupid," I corrected. "And I stand by that statement."

"Whatever," Stiles said quietly, rolling his eyes. "It isn't very nice in there, and the note helped. So thank you."

I smiled. I helped. If only I could do the same for Lydia now. "You're welcome. I had to use the video game you let Josh borrow, which isn't ideal, so I'm just glad it worked." Stiles frowned at me. "I needed something of yours for the spell," I elaborated. "I didn't have any of your blood to hand, so I had to make do."

Stiles nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "Maybe we should all give you something of ours, for future use. You use that stuff for locating spells as well, right?"

I waved a hand in Stiles' direction. "That right there, Stilinski. This is why we'd all be chasing our tails without you around."

"Who's chasing their tails?" Scott asked, mugs of gloriously hot coffee in hand.

I snorted a little, taking two mugs from him and setting them on the table in front of us. "Of course that's the sentence you'd pick up on."

"Can we not return to the dog jokes?" Scott pleaded.

"But they're so easy."

"Exactly," Scott sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Come up with something original."

My mouth dropped open, because who would expect that from Scott, but my phone rang before I could respond.

"Hey Ally," I answered, immediately placing her on speaker. "Scott and Stiles are here too."

"Okay, good," she said through the phone. "We found Lydia's car."

I looked up to Scott. "Call Jackson." As he did, I turned my attention back to Allison. "Did you find anything?"

"Not much, but... She left a message. I'm pretty sure it's for us, but it really doesn't make sense."

I turned to Stiles. He just continued to stare at the phone, his eyebrows low. "What do you mean?" he asked her. "What does it say?"

Allison was quiet for a second. "It... It says 'don't find me'."

Stiles shook his head. "What else?"

"Nothing, that's my point," Allison said. "It doesn't say anything else. It just says 'don't find me'."

I shook my head, confused. "Is it definitely from her?"

"I'm pretty sure, yeah," Allison said, sighing. "It was written on her window, and you had to breathe on it to see it. Like she'd knew we'd look there, but she didn't want anyone else to find it."

"Why wouldn't she want us to look for her?" Stiles asked aloud, to no one in particular. I shook my head again.

"It's not about that," I said quietly, running a hand over my face.

"What do you mean?" Allison asked. "What else could it be about?"

"It's Lydia," I reminded everyone there. "She's very specific, and her message isn't about looking for her. It's about finding her. Meaning she doesn't want us wherever she is. Meaning, that she probably knows something that we don't yet."

They were both quiet for a moment. Allison blew out a breath. "As in..."

"As in, she knows if we find her, someone is going to die."

A/N: I'll be completely honest - this story has taken me so long to write that I've forgotten half of my storyline, and I don't know who knows what. Does Kira know Amber is a witch? Have they already made jokes about Scott growing a tail? Who knows? I sure don't!

Thanks for reading, guys. Stay fetch.