Sam opened her eyes to see the woods once more. However, she wasn't in the clearing this time. She usually would be if it meant either of the goddesses wanted to talk.

What was happening…?

"He's coming.", she hears a childlike voice. She turned around, flinching at the sight of a younger version of herself.

Hiding behind a tree was her 8-year-old younger self.

"Who's coming?", Sam asked. The little variant seemed so hesitant to speak. Sam cautiously stepped forward. "Who's coming? Who's he?", she asked.

"The bad man.", the girl said.

"The bad man?", Sam asked, and suddenly felt a heavy presence behind me. At one point, she hoped it was one of the goddesses. Hell, even Peter but she knew that was impossible.

"Anata wa daredesu ka?", she heard behind her. Whoever it was, their breath was right on the back of her neck. It sounded like a man. He spoke a different language.

She stood in place as he repeated his question. What did this man want from her? Why was he "the bad man"?

"When is a door not a door?"

Her eyes widened. She slowly turned around and gasped at the sight before before. All she saw were teeth. Shiny teeth before she heard a shrill scream that shot her awake with her mom holding Sam in her arms.

Sam gasped and swallowed for air, feeling how dry and harsh her throat felt. She must've been screaming.

Her mom rubbed her back and rocked her as she struggled to calm down.

Who was that…?

Exhausted, Sam got to school early hoping to clear her mind from last night. As she pulled up, she saw Scott's bike and smiled. He was here and Stiles wasn't too far away.

As she parked and got out, she could see him walking.

"Scott!", she called, trying to get him to wait for her. He stopped but instead of turning around to see her, he was looking at the concrete behind him. Scott's expression went from confused to horror so quickly. Then he took off as if his shadow completely terrified him. Confused, Sam followed him to Stiles, who had got to him first.

"Scott, what the hell was that about?", Sam asked.

"I'm okay.", he shakily assured. She frowned. "Scott, your shadow. You were looking at your shadow. What'd you see?"

"It's happening to you too. You're seeing things, aren't you?", Stiles asked. Scott looked at them in confusion. "How'd you know?"

"Because it's happening to all four of you." Lydia came up from behind Stiles with a frazzled Allison by her side.

History wasn't as bad as it seemed as Westover wasn't here anymore. His replacement was another man.

"Morning everyone! My name is Mr. Yukimura. I'll be taking over for your previous history teacher. My family and I moved here three weeks ago and I'm sure by now you all know my daughter, Kira. Or you might not since she's never actually mentioned anyone from school or brought home a friend for that matter." From the back of the class, the students could hear a quiet groan and a smack on one of the wood desks. Sam turned around to see a dark-haired girl burying her face in her arms.

Sam smiled. "There she is!", Mr. Yukimura smiled widely. The girl lifted her head, frowning at her father. Sam turned back to face Mr. Yukimura and glanced at Scott.

He was staring hard at Kira. He even had a soft smile. He caught Sam's eyes on him and quickly turned away, the smile never leaving his face.

Was he finally getting over Allison?

Sam glanced away from Scott, catching something that chilled her.

One of her classmates, at least she thought, was looking at her with a creepy stare, not saying a thing. Everyone else faced the front while this person looked at her.

Their mouth opened wide and she saw the same teeth from her dream. She squeezed her eyes closed, took a deep breath and looked back up. The student wasn't facing her anymore.

She let out a soft sigh.

Just as quickly as history class came, we were already leaving. "Kinda miss Westover.", she told her friends as she walked to Stiles' locker with the boys.

"Hey, at least we're all in the same class again.", Stiles mumbled. Sam leaned on a locker next to a frustrated Stiles. "Maybe we just need more time to get back to normal.", Scott said, leaning on a locker on the other side of Stiles.

"Yeah, try not to forget we hit the reset button on a supernatural beacon for supernatural creatures. There's a pretty good chance of things never going back to normal.", Stiles scoffed as he pulled hard on the lock. When it failed to open, he struggled, fumbling with the combination once more.

"Well, before we worry about nemeton stuff, let's worry about getting you both better first, yeah? Stiles?" Sam noticed he spaced out, looking at his lock. "Stiles!", she called. His eyes perked up towards her.

"Huh? What?", he asked. Sam furrowed her eyebrows in concern.

"You didn't even hear a word I—", she paused as she saw Scott's red eyes. The hell was he doing?

Stiles looked at him as well. "Scott, your eyes."

"What about them?", Scott asked, looking at them in confusion.

"They're red.", Sam said, glancing around and lowered Scott's head.

"Right now?", he asked, widening his bright eyes. "Yes, right now!", Stiles cried.

"Scott, make it stop. People can see.", Sam hissed. Scott started hyperventilating as he shaded his eyes with his hands.

"I can't….I can't control it.", he gasped. Stiles looked at Sam in distress and Sam placed a hand on Scott's back.

"We gotta get you somewhere.", she says, pulling at him and leading the boys to an empty classroom.

Sam opened the door and Scott went through. He tore off his jacket and walked through the desks ahead of them, panting and swallowing. Sam and Stiles walked towards him.

"No! Get back, get away from me!", he yelled. They stopped.

What the hell was happening…?

Scott didn't have this much difficulty dealing with control before. That was the whole point of Sam getting Derek involved for so long. Now that he's gone and Scott's now an alpha, she didn't know what to do. She wasn't an alpha, much less a full werewolf. What could she do?

"Scott, it's okay.", Sam reassured.

"I don't know what's going to happen! Get back!", he screamed, phasing. Stiles grabbed Sam's arm, pulling her back towards him.

They watched helplessly as Scott tumbled and knocked himself between the rows of desks and started digging his claws into the palms of his hands.

Blood dripped down Scott's hands to his wrists as he groaned in pain.

As Scott finally dropped, they rushed over to him as he leaned against a desk for support.

"Pain makes you human.", Scott huffed through pants. His eyes were back to normal, and his fangs had disappeared. Sam went to the teacher's desk, grabbed lots of tissues and shot hand sanitizer into them. She went back to Scott and took his hands into her tissue covered ones.

"Please tell me you're done.", she looked at him as she wiped his hands to his arms. He shook his head.

"Scott, this just isn't in our heads. This is real. It's getting bad for me too. I'm not just having nightmares; I'm having these dreams where I have to literally scream myself awake. And sometimes I'm not even sure if I'm actually ever waking up.", Stiles gravely confessed.

"What do you mean?", Scott asked as they looked at their friend.

"You know you can tell if you're dreaming? You can't read in dreams. More and more, the past few days I've been having trouble reading. It's like I can't see the words; I just can't put the letters in order.", Stiles says, looking down at his hands.

"Like even now?", Scott asked. Stiles looked up to the chalkboard behind us and slowly stood up to look at the quote written on the board.

"I can't read a thing.", Stiles said shakily.

"What do you mean?", Sam asked, standing with him. "It's like in another language. The letters are jumbled.", Stiles didn't even look at her.

"Why didn't you tell me?", Sam fussed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What could you have done? You already have stuff to deal with now being a werewitch. I didn't wanna pile more on you.", Stiles said, sadly.

Sam looked back and forth between Scott and Stiles. "How many times am I gonna have to tell you two to stop trying to decide what's too much for me…? You guys are my friends. I'm down to help you with whatever comes our way."

Stiles and Scott gave her sad smiles before pulling her into a group hug. She sighed, muttering into their shoulders. "My boys…"

Sam squinted as she finished her small altar for Nyx and heard a knock on her bedroom door. She went to answer it and saw Isaac standing in front of her.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Is it cool if we talk?", he asked, nervously.

"Yeah. Something wrong?", Sam asked as she let him in. He walked in, immediately fidgeting with his fingers. "Sort of. I was in the woods today and I ran into Allison and Lydia—"

Sam held a hand out to stop his rambling. "You were in the woods, and you just happened to run into them?"

Isaac nodded. "Were you following Allison?", Sam asked with a raised eyebrow. She was kinda noticing Isaac's attention on the Argent girl but didn't think much of it.

"Yeah.", Isaac nodded. "But it's a good thing I did. Allison went into some kind of trance while she was shooting her practice targets. It was like she was completely zoned out in a different world. But then she aimed her arrow at Lydia and shot it off. I caught it in time but if I wasn't there Lydia would be dead right now.", he rushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "And I don't know how she aimed it right at Lydia, she couldn't hit a single target the whole time."

Sam's eyebrows furrowed. "Our Allison? The same Allison that couldn't miss a target even if she wanted to, Allison? Hunter Allison?"

"I know it sounds weird, but she zoned out and almost killed Lydia. It doesn't make sense. She said something about seeing her aunt.", he said.

Sam frowned. So, she was going through what the trio went through. She's seeing stuff too.

"Wait, why'd you tell me instead Scott?", Sam asked.

"Speaking of, he kinda threw me against a wall this morning.", Isaac's lips formed a tight line as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Sam blinked. Why–

She shook her head. "I'm not even gonna ask why.", she sighed. "You gotta tell him."

Isaac got nervous once more and fidgeted again. "That's kinda why I came here. I had a question about that.", he grimaced.

Sam sat on her bed. "What's up?" He sat at her desk and faced Sam. "So…how do you tell someone who might be out of your league that you like them, even though they just got out of a relationship?", he asked, nervously.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed. "You're asking me for relationship advice…?" He nodded. "Dude, have you seen me? I've never once got into a relationship. I wouldn't know anything about that.", she scoffed.

He frowned in confusion. "Wha– I just thought– Well, since you hang around Derek so much, I thought you guys kinda had something going on."

Sam feigned offense. "Are you trying to say Derek's out of my league?" Isaac immediately defended himself, vigorously shaking his head and Sam chuckled. "I'm just messing with you.", she reassured and he pouted.

Sam shrugged. "No, I…" She sighed and shook her head. "There's nothing going on between me and Derek. We're just friends. Plus, I don't really think I'm Derek's type anyways.", Sam chuckled humorlessly.

His head tilted in wonder. "Why not? I mean, I've seen the way he looks at you. I don't think he thinks you're gross or something."

She tilted her head in confusion. "The way he looks at me?"

His eyes widened a bit. "Well… He doesn't not think you're valuable. I mean–! Not that you weren't valuable before! I think you're pretty cool.", he chuckled, flustered. She chuckled. "Thanks, Isaac. You're pretty cool too."

After they had a heart to heart, Sam's assumptions were right. Isaac was infatuated with Allison. She didn't have the heart to tell him not to go for it. Considering Scott seemed to be curious with Kira anyways. Plus, they broke up. She felt like it was kinda wrong, but it's not the last time anyone really falls in love anyways.

"At her head?", Scott exclaimed after Isaac dragged her back to the McCall house.

"Almost right through it.", Isaac said. "She keeps saying the same thing: she keeps seeing her aunt."

Scott plopped down on his bed in disbelief. "Whatever's happening to you guys is getting worse. If I hadn't been there, then Lydia would be dead.", Isaac said.

It was quiet for a moment until Scott spoke up.

"What were you doing there?", Scott finally asked. Isaac looked over at Sam and Sam gave him a look back.

Before Isaac could say anything, he was thrown once again.

"Scott!", Sam exclaimed, looking at him in disbelief.

"Aww, you guys! Come on! This house does not have the supernatural ability to heal! So, stop it!", Melissa yelled from downstairs. "Yes ma'am!", Sam called before snapping at Scott. "Stop it.", Sam hissed.

The next day in economics dragged on longer than usual. The day was already starting off trash for her 17th.

At this point, Sam couldn't tell anymore. It felt like the longer they stayed at the school the longer the sun stayed out and it kinda drained her.

An incisive scritching noise brought her out of her thoughts. It sounded so aggressive. She looked over to see Stiles writing on his paper.

She couldn't see exactly what he was scribbling down, but he was writing like he was in a hurry. She leaned over to see what it was.

Wake?

Up?

Wake up? Wake up what?

She jumped at the sound of Coach's booming voice. "Stilinski! Are you paying attention back there?", Coach yelled. Stiles didn't answer. If anything, he kept writing as he slept upright….? No… he wasn't even sleeping. What the hell is going on with him…?

"Stilinski?", Coach repeated and stuck his whistle in his mouth, blowing it. "Stilinski!", Coach called him, and Stiles gasped for breath as he looked up. "Uh-huh?"

"I asked you a question!", Coach yelled.

"Sorry coach, uh, what was it?", Stiles swallowed, trying to gather his composure.

"Oh, it was just 'Stilinski, are you paying attention back there?'.", Coach repeated.

"Oh.", Stiles blinked. "Well, I am now." Coach rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

"Stilinski, stop reminding me why I drink. Every night.", he muttered. "Does anybody else want to answer the question on the board?"

Sam looked at Stiles as well as Scott.

"What?", Stiles whispered. "I-I just fell asleep for a second." His hands were shaky, and he was gripping his pen tightly.

"Dude…", Scott started, shaking his head, "you weren't asleep."

"You were writing.", Sam whispered. He looked at her in confusion. "The paper.", she nodded at his notes.

Stiles hesitantly looked down at the paper to see how many times he wrote wake up. A shuttered breath left his mouth and he looked at the paper in fear then hurriedly shut it close.

During free period, Scott, Stiles, Isaac, Allison, Lydia, and Sam were all sitting on one of the benches outside.

They were supposed to be doing homework and studying but…

Sam didn't even bother writing anything in her notebook as she was too focused on the recent issues.

"What are you doing?", Stiles asked, glancing at Sam's leg.

Sam paused, not noticing her leg was heavily bouncing. "Sorry. Just… off.", she says. He sighed and rubbed her back. "Okay, so what happens to a person who has a near death experience and comes out of it seeing things?", Scott asked.

"And isn't able to tell what's real or not.", Stiles added.

"And is being haunted by demonic visions of dead relatives.", Allison provided further.

"And having distorted memory-like dreams.", Sam adds.

"They're all locked up because they're insane.", Isaac said.

"Isaac.", Sam sighed.

"Can you at least try to be helpful? Please?", Stiles stressed.

"For half my childhood, I was locked in a freezer so being helpful is kind of a new thing for me.", Isaac defended. Scott groaned, his head dropping to the table.

"Oh, okay? We're really still milking that?", Stiles' eyebrows raised.

"Enough, before you start!", Sam scolded the two.

"Hi!" All of them turned to see a pretty Asian girl standing before them.

"Hi…" She was from their history class. "Kira, right?", Sam asked.

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah! Sorry, I couldn't help overhearing what you guys were talking about.", she said nervously. "I think I may actually know what you're talking about. There's a Tibetan word for the thing you're talking about. It's called bardo. It literally means between state—the state between life and death."

"Are you talking bardo in Tibetan Buddhism or Indian?", Lydia asked the girl.

Kira sat next to Sam. "Either, I guess. But all the stuff you guys were just saying, that all happens in Bardo. There are different progressive states where you can have hallucinations, some you see, and some you just hear. And you can be visited by peaceful and wrathful deities."

"Wrathful deities? What are those?", Isaac tilted his head in wonder.

"Like demons.", Kira said.

"Demons, why not.", Stiles sighed.

"Hold on, if there are different progressive states, what's the last one?", Allison asked.

"Death. You die."

"Wow.", Sam let out a sigh. This was gonna get difficult.

Later on, the trio went to Deaton, confiding in the man of their recent experiences.

"Sounds like your subconscious is trying to communicate with you.", Deaton explained as they walked into the back.

"Well how do I tell my subconscious to use a language that I completely know?", Stiles asked, frustrated.

"Stiles, we took sign language in middle school.", Sam recalled. He looked at her, exasperated. "I know, but I can only remember some things."

"Do you remember what the sign language looked like? The placement and the movement of the hands?", Deaton asked the boy.

"You know sign language?", Scott asked his boss.

"I know a little. Give it a shot.", Deaton encouraged Stiles.

"First move was like this, then that." Stiles reenacted what he saw.

"That's 'when'.", Deaton said.

"Then there's this twice." Stiles slid his hands together.

"That's 'door'.", Sam says.

"Then there's this in between that." Stiles made one more hand gesture finally finishing.

"That's it?", Deaton asked. Stiles nodded. "When is a door not a door?", Sam said, frowning. She heard that in her dream... It– Maybe it's a coincidence.

"When is a door not a door?", Stiles confused.

"When it's ajar.", Scott mumbled. She looked at him in confusion.

"You're kidding me, right? A riddle? My subconscious wants to tell me a riddle?", Stiles complained.

"Not necessarily.", Deaton disagreed.

"So… maybe it's not just a riddle but more of something's open. Something's wrong.", Sam says, and Deaton nodded at her.

"Exactly. When the four of you went under the water, when you crossed from unconsciousness to a super-consciousness, you essentially opened a door in your minds.", Deaton explained.

"Okay, so what does that mean? The door is still open?", Scott asked.

"Almost. It's ajar. Which means it needs to be closed.", Sam realized. Deaton nodded.

"The door into our minds…", Stiles' eyes were starting to water.

"I did tell you it was risky." Deaton pursed his lips.

"What do we do about it?", Scott wondered.

"It's difficult to answer."

"What do you mean it's difficult to answer? We can't do something to close it?", Sam asked Deaton. He looked sad. "Not exactly, it does need to be closed. Quick."

"That's helpful.", she sighed. Sam got up and left the room to think only to see a pair of bright headlights pulling up to the hospital. She left and saw the Sheriff step out of his car.

"Dad, what are you doing here?", Stiles asked after following her.

"I'm here because I can use some help.", Mr. Stilinski said. He turned to Scott. "Actually, your help."

"Me? But why?", Scott asked in confusion.

"Because eight years ago almost an entire family died in a car accident. One of the bodies, a young girl named Malia, was never found. There's enough evidence to have me thinking a werewolf could have caused the accident and then dragged her body away. If you could someone to get a lock on her scent and help me find her body. It might provide the missing clue.", Sheriff explained.

"And what if it was a werewolf?", Scott asked.

"Then there's somebody out there who murdered an entire family. Somebody who still needs to be caught."

"I can't believe we're doing this.", Stiles muttered as we left out of his jeep.

"Breaking and entering? That's probably the least of our worries.", Scott chuckled.

"We're bigger criminals for teenagers at this point.", Sam chuckled as they walked past a rusty mailbox labeled with the name 'Tate'.

"Not exactly something to be proud of.", Stiles mumbled.

"Okay so what's the plan? Your dad distracts this guy, and we do the usual break in break out?", Sam asked.

"The usual– nevermind. Yeah.", Stiles nodded.

"Let's do this.", Sam says as they stepped onto the small porch. The smallest creak coming from the back door made Stiles cringe and stop. He slowly moved once more until it creaked again, making him pause.

Scott ran a hand over his face in frustration. This plan was already failing before it even started. Stiles opened the rest of the door, and they rushed in. They sighed softly as Scott closed the door quietly.

They scouted Malia's room. Stiles and Sam handed Scott stuffed animals that were neatly placed on the neatly made bed. The more Sam handed Scott a stuffed animal, the more she felt bad.

It felt so wrong, touching a dead girl's things. Rummaging through her stuff. It didn't feel right at all. She whined. "This isn't how I wanted to spend my birthday...", she mumbled.

"Anything?", Stiles whispered, snapping Sam out of her guilt.

"All I'm getting is some animal smell.", Scott whispered, tossing the stuffed bunny back to Sam.

"What kind of animal smell?", Stiles asked, going over to the dressers. He picked up a plastic horse and handed it to Scott, but he never took it.

He was staring out into the hallway like they had been caught. Placing the stuffed animal back on the bed she walked over to see what he was staring at.

"Dog.", Scott stuttered. Sam and Stiles eyes widened to see a Rottweiler standing in the doorway.

"Shit.", Sam whispered, backing away.

"Hi puppy.", Stiles greeted, fearfully. "Get rid of it.", he whispered to Scott.

"Me?", Scott gaped.

"Yes, you!", Stiles cried in a hushed voice.

"Make your eyes glow or something.", Sam pushed.

"Be the alpha.", Stiles urged.

"I can't. I don't have control.", Scott admitted, never taking his eyes off of the dog.

"Why are you just now saying something?", Sam whispered harshly as the dog began to growl.

"Okay, well we need to do something.", Scott slowly moved forward and put his hand out.

"Nice doggy.", he cooed, making Sam and Stiles look at him in disbelief. His actions caused the dog to continuously bark.

"Apollo." Mr. Tate yelled from across the house. "Apollo, shut up! Shut the hell up!"

Apollo eventually did shut up.

The three of them were huddled together as the dog just huffed and finally turned away, disappearing down the hall.

Stiles sighed and hurriedly opened one of the dresser doors and handed a book to Scott.

"Anything?", Sam asked as he took a long whiff of it. He shook his head, "All I'm getting is that dog."

"Let's just get out of here before it comes back." Sam sighed. Stiles leaned towards the dresser and took out his phone from his pocket, snapping a picture of a photo in a pink and green frame.

It was of the two Tate girls sitting on a blanket, the younger girl holding a baby doll and the older girl with a soccer ball.

Before they escaped through the back door, they all heard Mr. Tate screaming at Stiles' dad to 'just go'. They quickly left and stood beside Stiles' car.

"Aren't dogs and wolves of the same species, why couldn't you just growl at it?", Sam suggested.

"Everything's so off, I can't control it.", Scott complained.

"Well, I wouldn't blame the lack of alpha senses on not being able to catch her scent. It's been eight years, and the only thing living in that room's been the dog.", Stiles said.

"I guess you're right.", Scott shrugged with a sigh. It took another five minutes for Sheriff Stilinski to come out of the Tate house looking disappointed.

"I'm sorry. I tried as hard as I could, if it wasn't so long ago, I might have been able to do it."

The Sheriff sighed. "It's okay, it was a long shot. In fact, it was a pretty terrible idea. I think I just ripped a wound open in the poor man. I never should have brought you guys here, I'm sorry for involving the three of you. Thanks for trying, all right? See you at home." The Sheriff got into his car and drove off. He seemed…sad. Not even disappointed, but sad.

They stood in silence for a few seconds before Scott spoke up.

"Aren't there a lot of cases that go unsolved?"

"Yeah, I just feel like he thinks this is one he could have figured out now."

"Why is it so important now? Because he knows everything?", Sam asked.

"Well, he wants to be able to solve one more while he's still Sheriff.", Stiles says.

"While he's still Sheriff?", Sam asked.

"What do you mean still Sheriff?", Scott asked.

"Your dad's firing my dad.", Stiles admitted sadly.

"What?", Scott and Sam exclaimed in unison.

Stiles dropped them off at Scott's house where Scott and Sam ran in to see Scott's dad.

"I can't believe this! I absolutely can't believe this!", Scott yelled as he paced through the kitchen.

"This is ridiculous.", Sam said. "Scott, I need to talk to you.", his dad looked at the girl. "Alone."

"No, she stays. She's welcome, you're not.", Scott defied.

"Whatever you think you're trying to do for this town, you're not.", Sam tells his dad.

"Excuse me?", he raised his eyebrows. "Who the hell do you think you are talking to me like that, Samantha?"

"His best friend, if you haven't figured that out already!", she exclaimed.

"You are not my daughter, so this is none of your business!"

"Fortunately, I've made it my business. I've been here for your own son more than you have.", she yelled back. He glared at her and Scott stepped in front of his friend to glare at his dad.

"You leave for however long and then come back with this!? You don't think they've been through enough? How could you do this?", Scott yelled and paced away, running his fingers through his hair.

"I'm only doing this for the best of the city.", his father said.

"This doesn't make any sense, dad! Who are you helping? Just get out!", Scott screamed.

"Scott—" Mr. McCall spoke.

"What, ugh! I can't believe you'd do this to our best friend."

"I'm not doing anything to your friend. I'm doing my job."

"Your job sucks!", Scott and Sam yelled.

"Some days I can't argue that.", his dad said the moment his mom walked in.

"Can somebody please tell me what the hell is going on?", Melissa asked, bewildered at the yelling.

"He's trying to get Stiles' dad fired.", Scott explained.

"No, that's not true.", Mr. McCall disagreed.

"Yes, it is!", Sam fought.

"What are you doing?", Melissa asked him.

"Conducting a case for impeachment.", Mr. McCall looked down.

"Sounds a lot like getting him fired!", she said.

"A lack of resolution and ability to close cases is what's going to get him fired. My job is just to collect the information."

"Your job sucks.", Melissa repeated. Sam shook her head and glanced at Scott as he huffed.

Sam looked down at his hands to see his claws slowly coming out. She looked back up at his face and saw his eyes flickering red.

"Hey, calm down.", she whispered. Sam took Scott's hands in hers, pulling him out of the room. "Scott, you gotta calm down."

"I'm trying.", he growled. He opened his mouth in pain as his fangs descended. Beads of sweat were rolling down his forehead.

Sam rubbed his hands with her thumbs. "What did Derek tell you? He told you to find an anchor, right? Find your anchor."

"My anchor was Allison.", he looked at mhere with glossy eyes. "I don't have Allison anymore."

"But you have us.", Sam says.

"Not like that.", he gasped, his breath becoming shallow. She remembered it only got like that when he had his asthma attacks.

"Hey, look at me.", Sam says, and his red eyes pierced into hers. "Remember when I helped you with your attacks? You gotta do that exercise with me. If you don't have an anchor yet, we gotta at least get you to breathe normally."

She lifted his hands. "Breathe with me, yeah?", she took a deep breath with him, balling his hands for a moment and unclenched it with a sigh. They did it twice until he could finally breathe normally. "Be your own anchor, okay? If we can't be your anchor, you have to be your own.", Sam says.

Letting out one more breath, Scott's fangs and claws disappeared, and his eyes blew back to their normal brown color.

She brought him into a hug, rubbing his back. He held her just as tight. "It's okay, you're okay."

"We'll figure this out, yeah? All of us.", Sam reassured.

After leaving the McCall household, she couldn't sleep. Sam picked up her phone and tapped on her phone contacts, her thumb hovering over Derek's name.

She sat up with a sigh and tapped his contact. Three rings and it went straight to voicemail.

She sighed. "Hey, Derek. I know I said I wouldn't bug you on your vacay, but weird things are happening again. Scott kinda lost control, something's happening with Stiles, he had to find another dead body and Scott's dad is back in town. He's trying to get the sheriff fired." She let out another sigh. "We gotta talk. Call me whenever you get this, yeah?"

She hung up, looking down at her phone. She kinda wished she had a picture of him for his contacts. It looked so empty. Her leg bounced as she sat on the edge of her bed. Why wasn't he answering?

She looked at her clock. 9:58pm.

It wasn't that late. Maybe he was asleep, though. She hadn't gotten much sleep since that nightmare.

In fact, she was afraid of going back to sleep.

She got up and got dressed, leaving silently as she went to Derek's loft. As she arrived at the apartment, she got out and stared up at the glass window above her.

She knew he wasn't here, but she couldn't help but be drawn here. Just like the old Hale house. The rustic feel of hints of death…

It drew her. It wasn't supposed to. People died in the loft, but she felt safe anyways. Before she could even take a step toward the apartment, something slammed into the back of her head.

Sam groaned as she slowly opened her eyes to a blinding light. It was killing her head if this pounding headache wasn't doing just that already.

She looked around to see silhouettes ahead of her and felt her arms being restrained above her head.

She couldn't even open her mouth as she felt something bound across from it. Tape.

Her vision cleared as she looked around and saw Derek and Peter looking at her. She yanked at the cuffs, screaming behind the tape as she struggled.

"Stop it. Stop!", Derek exclaimed at her. She stopped and gave him a look. He was supposed to be on vacation. What the hell happened?

His frustrated expression changed to a more apologetic one. "They had my phone.", he said. They?

She looked back at their captors with a glare. "Don't do anything.", she heard Derek say and she looked back over at him. He gave her a knowing look. "Don't."

He wasn't sure what she was capable of doing after he was gone, he didn't want her to do anything that could cause her to rile the hunters up.

He was supposed to be on vacation. He wished he could talk about his travels to her. That wasn't the time though.

With the Calaveras... He didn't know how this would turn out.

Sam looked at him in confusion. Did the Argents not have enough? Derek understood her questioning look and shook his head. "It's not the Argents."

Great, other hunters to worry about. Sam rolled her eyes and slumped against the gate they were on.

A man walked up to them with a smirk on his face and a gun in his hand. He looked at Sam and pointed the tip of his assault rifle towards her lower stomach and lifted the hem of her shirt.

Sam yanked herself away from him with a grunt. Her nostrils flared as she glared at the man who just looked at her with a satisfied look.

The man came closer to her, and she looked down at his shadow then back up at him. Derek looked at her line of sight, catching on. "Don't.", he hissed at the girl.

The man in front of her looked at Derek. "Aw, is she yours?", he asked. Sam huffed through her nose as the man continued to taunt him and poke at Sam.

Sam lunged at the man with a muffled scream, and he jabbed the butt of his gun in her stomach, making her groan and nearly double over as much as she could.

The unnamed man stood up as another younger Hispanic man walked into the room and smiled at his accomplice. The man sat down at a wooden table and began turning knobs and dials on a piece of equipment that looked familiar. It was the same machine Kate used to electrocute Derek.

Sam's eyes widened as her breathing picked up in pace, catching into what the man was about to do. Electricity flowed through the wires to the metal gate the two Hales were confined too. Sam shouted as she watched in Derek convulse in pain as he and Peter got electrocuted.

She turned her head away from the sparks that flew.

"You see this equipment? Very old. The settings are not quite accurate anymore. So, it's hard to tell just how far to turn the dial.", The man said.

"It's a little high.", Peter grunted. The man cranked the dial up higher to hear the screams of Peter and Derek.

"I've seen some crack their teeth. Others, they just shake and shake even after their heart stops. Sometimes we don't even know they're dead." The electrifying torture abruptly stopped, leaving Peter and Derek gasping for air. Sam watched Derek's chest heave up and down as he lowered his head.

He looked hopeless. The man started laughing and finally got up from his chair.

"Nobody wants to play a guessing game. So why don't you just tell us…where is la loba?", he asked.

"We don't know what a la loba is.", Derek grounded out weakly.

"No? Maybe you need a different method of persuasion." The man turned to Sam and smiled. "Maybe we need to slit your throat." He turned back to Derek and Peter. "Maybe we cut one of you in half, the other talks."

"I would love to volunteer but we really don't know what you're talking about. And honestly, isn't bisecting people with a broad sword a little medieval?", Peter gives a weak chuckle. The man chuckles and stares Peter down.

"Broward sword? We're not savages."

The man nodded at this accomplice and suddenly, the room was filled with the loud roar of a chainsaw. Derek and Sam glared at his uncle for having a big mouth.

The chainsaw man took a stance next to his friend. They both were staring at Derek, which made Sam thrash against her restraints.

"We all wonder how far your little healing trick goes." The chainsaw was raised and continued to roar. "What do you think? Can you grow back an arm? We're pretty sure you can't grow back your head." The man took a step closer to Derek, lowering the chainsaw toward his neck.

She continued yanking at her restraints as the chainsaw man got closer.

"Boys!" A female voice bellowed. An older woman stepped in the room, speaking Spanish. The chainsaw stopped and Sam slumped in slight relief. She tried to calm her own breaths as Derek glared at the woman. "No hablo espanol.", Derek said.

"Tu hablas muchos idiomas, Derek Hale. You know exactly what I'm saying. And you know who we want." The older Spanish woman said as she walked towards Derek with a curved knife in her hand. "Where is the she wolf?"

La loba… she wolf…?

She wolf. Cora. Where was Cora?

"We don't know any she wolf.", Derek said.

"Well, does your little friend know?" The woman turned to Sam, walking up to her and tore the tape off of her mouth. "Where is the she wolf?", she demanded.

"What she wolf?", Sam huffed.

"I don't like to play games, chica.", she said, lightly dragging the pick down Sam's face.

"Whatever you're looking for, I don't know. I don't know what a she wolf is.", Sam growled out. The woman glanced at Derek. "Still won't talk? Even if this accidentally ends up in an artery?"

"I'm definitely not saying a thing, then.", Derek raised his eyebrows.

"I know you won't talk, Lobito. This one will talk," she pointed the knife at Peter as she walked over to him, "this one loves the sound of his own voice."

"You should hear me sing.", Peter sarcastically smiled.

"We want to hear you scream." The bearded kidnapped smiled.

"No one ever wants to hear me sing.", Peter whined to his nephew. Derek rolled his eyes and looked at me reassuringly. Even through times like this, he was still trying to make her feel hopeful.

"What could we do to persuade you?" The woman began tracing the knife down the side of Peter's face. He groaned in pain, his claws flickering out. Derek's head whipped over to Peter as he watched him struggle.

"Where is the she wolf?" The woman yelled. Peter opened his mouth then closed it with a smile.

In one flick, the woman lashed the knife at Peter and all Sam could hear was his screams. Peter was writhing in pain as he looked at his bloody hand.

The older woman had cut one of his fingers off.

"Think about it." The woman sang. "I'm only going to ask you nine more times." She chuckled, throwing the finger on the ground. After the three hunters finally left the room, Sam turned to Peter. "You learned to keep your mouth shut yet?", she asked with raised eyebrows.

Peter glares at her. "Why are you here, Samantha?"

"Why the hell are you asking me? Aren't you guys supposed to be on vacation? How do you get hunted on vacation? Do you Hales not know what laying low and keeping your head down means?", Sam fussed.

Derek sighed. "Enough."

Sam rolled her eyes with a sigh. "I can't get us out without causing us to get shot. And I really don't wanna get shot again."

"As I said, don't do anything. You were tempted. I saw that.", Derek scolded.

It was hard to tell how much time passed without a watch, but she knew it was long enough. It was finally morning again, but the sun didn't do much to light up the space they were in.

There were shadows, but unfortunately it wasn't nighttime so her powers were lowered. The guy who tried to cut Derek's head off was on guard watch, waving his rifle around.

Sam rolled her eyes.

Peter's severed finger was still sitting in the middle of the room, dripping with blood. She glanced over at Derek, taking in his state. He looked exhausted, almost... hopeless, but not as bad as what Kate did to him.

"You got a pretty face.", she heard the man with the rifle say to her. She rolled her eyes again. "Bet you're a lot of fun to have.", he says, making Derek's chest rumble with a low warning growl.

"Why don't you help me outta these, yeah? I'll show you how fun I am." Sam nodded to her restraints, glaring at the man.

"Really?", the man asked, intrigued.

"Yeah, choking you out sounds really fun right about now.", she smiled.

"Fat bitch.", he replied, his smile immediately dropping. Sam let out a laugh. "Fuck you too."

Peter cleared his throat and gained everyone's attention.

"I don't want to make it sound like we don't appreciate your hospitality, but do you think you can put that on ice?", Peter asked. "Maybe something for my hand. Extra-large bandaid? Perhaps an antibiotic ointment?"

"Peter, please for the love of everything holy, shut the hell up!", Sam thrashed against her restraints in irritation.

She looked up as a shadow passed over her face. "Someone's here.", she says as shots were suddenly fired from upstairs. They could hear glass shattering every time a bullet pierced something.

The guard pounced up from his seat, waving his rifle at the ceiling. Sam took that as her chance to plant her feet on the ground, take his shadow and throw him against a wall.

The footsteps from upstairs were hurriedly coming down the stairs. Her heart began beating faster and faster as the guard groaned and got up, and quickly pointed his rifle towards the wooden door.

The guard gasped as his gun was taken from him and shoved into his stomach. He went to punch the assailant but instead he was knocked out.

Sam's brows furrowed as the mysterious savior came into view. It was a girl—her beautiful bronze skin was glowing from the light in the corner as her long, wavy, black locks bounced over her shoulders.

She walked in and sat the hunters' rifle down and walked towards them.

"Who the hell are you?", Sam asked.

"Has anyone ever taught you to say thank you?", she smiled.

"You're the one that saved Isaac.", Derek said with wide eyes.

"I'm the one who was hired to save Isaac.", she corrected firmly.

"Someone hired you to get us out of here?", Peter asked.

"Someone hired me to get Sam and Derek out of here. You? I'm totally fine leaving for dead."

"When did I get this reputation?", Peter sighed.

"And you are?", Sam asked.

"Braeden.", she shortly answered, picking at the locks around Derek's wrists.

"Who hired you?", Derek asked.

"Deucalion."

Sam's eyes widened. "What? Deucalion asked you? How'd he know we were in trouble?"

"Deucalion? The guy who did that to you?", Peter nodded at her slashed face. Braeden finally got Derek out of his restraints and moved on to Peter.

"A girl's gotta eat.", she said. Derek rushed over to Sam, flicking his claws out to tear off her restraints.

"Thank you.", she sighed, rubbing her sore wrists as he took off the ones around her feet.

Peter was free and quickly grabbed his finger to reattach it.

"Okay, let's get the hell out of here.", Braeden sashayed through the room as Derek went and got dressed.

"We're not leaving without it.", Derek says.

"Without what?", Braeden asked. Sam looked at him. "What'd you have?"

Later on, they climbed into a suburban, relaxing as they left.

Derek said he and Peter were looking for a wooden chest that contained something close to him. But they could never find it at the time.

When they were done, however, Peter suggested another place that was North of Beacon Hills.

Peter was in the passenger seat of the car while Derek and Sam sat in the back. She slumped against the seats, feeling more exhausted now.

"Are you okay?", Derek whispered. She glanced at him through droopy eyes and nodded. "You can't lie to me. You look like you haven't been sleeping.", he said.

Damn werewolf senses.

"Like I said, things have been happening… nothing we can't take care of.", she chuckled weakly.

"What do you mean?", he asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"I think we really need your help, Derek.", Sam croaked, feeling her eyes flutter. She really was tired.

She felt him take his arm and wrap it around her. "Just sleep. We'll talk about it later."

"I'm… I…" Her eyes felt heavier and heavier, and she couldn't keep them open anymore.