I wasn't quite sure what happened. We were in the heat of the fight and then they vanished. I glanced around the room, my chest heaving from the adrenaline high. Besides us, no one else was here. Stiles, too. He was gone. Does that mean the Oni took him? Or did the Oni leave because Stiles left?

My eyes landed on Derek. He was on the ground, a pained expression on his face. I walked over to him, crouching down next to him as he sat up. He looked like he was just spit out by a tornado. "Are you okay?" The words leave my mouth as I see red on his shoulder. I lean forward, seeing a large gash going across his shoulder and into his back.

"I'm okay," he said with a wince.

"Clearly." I sighed, and then heard movement just outside the door. I quickly stood and faced the door. The Sheriff and Chris pointed their guns at the door as Scott and Kira ran in. They quickly stopped. All guns were lowered once they saw it wasn't Stiles or more Oni.

"What happened?" Scott asked. And then came the next fun hour of rehashing the last twelve hours. But Scott and Kira were able to tell us what they found. Apparently Kira's mom is the one who started all of this, the one who brought this dark spirit here in the first place.

They showed her that photo that Malia and Stiles found on the Nogitsune's body, under Eichen. The girl in the photo was Kira's mom and then the guy was the Nogitsune before he became possessed. When he was just a human. In 1943. Apparently I'm not the only relic. Kira said that her mom is nine hundred years old. So, yeah. She has an extra couple years on me.

But her mom said the only way to stop the Nogitsune is to kill it, to kill Stiles. That's not an option. Not to mention the fact that, had Kira's mom done it right the first time, we wouldn't be here. So, there is that. And now we don't know where Stiles is anyway.

Eventually, everyone dispersed. Derek offered to take me home (actually his words were "I'll take you home." Meaning I had no choice in the matter) and even though I told him it was fine, that I could walk, he didn't care. I was mainly concerned about him, because he didn't appear to me to be healing.

And I wasn't sure if getting behind the wheel was a good idea. But he managed just fine. Something tells me this boy is way too used to pain. The ride was quiet on the way there, but when we approached the house I decided to talk. "Was this something we did, you taking me home?"

"Sometimes." He pulled up next to the curb and put the car in park.

"And the other times?"

"On nights when we were up late doing stuff like this, you'd just sleep at my place."

I nodded, thinking. "Did we ever…" I paused trying to figure out how I wanted to phrase it. I looked at him. "You know…"

He let out a small chuckle. "No. When we slept together, that's all we did. Our relationship was never about that."

"What was it about?"

He looked at me. "Us." He said it so normally, like he'd said it a million times. "As physical as our relationship got was us wanting – needing – to be in the same room together, to know the other was okay, to hear the other's voice. We showed our love for each other in words and actions. Not the way you're thinking."

I could see it in his eyes again. He was remembering the old me. Going back to that time when we loved each other the way we did. The car fell silent. I looked out the windshield in front of me. "I think a lot about why I did what I did. When I killed Tobias." I paused. "If I knew I'd lose my memory, why didn't I tell anyone? Why didn't I tell you?"

"Maybe you couldn't," he said. "Maybe it hurt too much for you to think about not remembering us. You told me that that you was the best version of you. You said that you had lived many lives and that this was the one you regretted leaving the most." His voice was dry, without emotion. Like his brain had checked out.

Maybe he had to say it like that. Maybe it hurt too much not to. But he kept talking. I looked at him. "You said, 'Nothing lasts forever, Derek.'" He looked at me. "You kissed me and then that was it. That was the last I saw you." There it was. The hurt. It's not only in his voice but on his face.

"Maybe…" I swallowed, licked my lips. "Maybe I didn't tell you because I knew it would hurt you too much."

Reality set into his eyes, like he hadn't thought of that. "Maybe…" he said, trailing off. He looked back out the windshield again.

"Derek," I put my hand on his and he looked at it. "Do you think I left you on purpose?" The question sounded crazy to me. If I loved him as much as he says, why would I leave him on purpose? But I had to know. His eyes met mine, and for a second, they looked hurt.

"No," he said. "But that doesn't change this, the outcome."

"Are you mad at me for doing it?"

"I should be." He sighed and looked out the driver's window. I realized that my hand was still on his, but I didn't move it. I liked the feel of his skin on mine. "You did what you thought you had to do." He looked at me. "And I guess I deserve it for some of the things I put you through."

"Maybe," it was a whisper. I looked up at him. "I don't know why I chose to do what I did. But I can tell that you still love me, because I see it in your eyes." I sighed, about to rip off the band aid. "There is something inside of me that wants you, Derek. I just don't know what it is. So I'm asking you to give me a chance. A chance to fall in love with you again."

He smiled and looked away. "What?" I asked.

"I think that's why you did it," he said, looking back at me.

"Why?"

"Because you knew your mind would forget, but not your heart."

He was right. It was my heart that was in control. It's the reason why I feel slightly shaky and have butterflies in my stomach every time he looks at me. It's the reason why, yes, I did get jealous when Emma told me that she and Derek had spent the day finding out that Stiles was the Nogitsune.

It's the same reason why I wanted to kiss him when we were at the pool and he was trying to make me remember. It's the same reason why his words at the sheriff's station affected me so greatly. Why I wanted to go to him tonight when Stiles tossed him like a rag doll, why I did go to him after the Oni left.

And it's the reason why my heart stopped beating when I first saw him, at the black light party. Why I just told him I want to love him again. It's because my heart does. It never stopped loving him. My heart didn't forget anyone. That's why Scott's roar affected me how it did, why Lydia's scream was able to turn me back.

Why I didn't fight Stiles in the loft after he tossed Derek. Why I protected him when the Oni showed up, even though I wanted to rip Stiles' throat out myself for what he did to me. That's why I instinctively pulled Allison back when Evil Stiles stepped toward us. My mind doesn't remember these people, but my heart does.

"I think you're right," I said. "But I still need you to be patient with me. It might take more than a day for me to fall in love with you this time."

"I will," he said. I raised an eye brow. Last time he didn't really stick with it. "I mean it, Beckett." The feeling in my stomach multiplied by a thousand at the sound of him saying my name.

"I like it when you say my name," I smiled. Then I sighed. "It's weird. The way everyone looks at me. Especially when you come up."

"How do they look at you?"

"Like…" I paused, thinking of the right words. "Like when they think of me they think of you. Like it's weird for them to see one of us without the other."

"Yeah, I've been getting those, too," he said with a sigh.

"I'm not sure we'll ever be what we were."

"No. But I wouldn't want to be." He looked at me. "I'm glad I got to know that version of you, but now I just want to know you." But how much of that other me did he actually know? It seems I kept a lot of secrets. I considered telling him about my other life, about what the book said. "But we'll be something."

"Someday." I gave his hand a light squeeze and then got out of the car, deciding not to tell him. I don't want to ruin this moment we're having. Maybe that's why I never told him. I could never find the right time. Once my feet were on the ground, I turned and looked back at him. "One last thing. Part of that whole being patient with me thing."

"What is it?"

"Please don't say you love me, because I might not say it back," I said, then smiled. "And that would be a shame."