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Synopsis: Extended scene when Neris appears bloodied and weeping in the vet clinic, surprising Dr. Deaton.

He had known her since she was a small child. He had known her mother even longer. Riga was a strong woman, best friend to a remarkable Alpha, who had suffered many losses. Her daughter had lost loved ones as well.

Alan Deaton remembered when James Sangster died. How Riga had wept and Neris cried, unable to understand the entirety of the situation, only knowing her father was dead.

He remembered when she appeared at his clinic many years later, fourteen and unbearably shy, looking for a job. How she slowly came out of her shell as she reunited with Scott and Stiles. How she shouldered the responsibilities of her species when Scott was turned.

He saw her become powerful – lethal even, though she would never become so unless it was a last resort. Scott's pack – a motley crew of teenagers – powered through situations other teenagers couldn't imagine.

Alan Deaton saw Neris and Scott as the children he never had. Both fatherless, both supernatural and struggling to come to terms with what they were and what their purpose was. He had tended to Scott's wounds on more than one occasion, never thinking that the cautious and clever Neris would need his medical assistance.

When she appeared in his office, strapped to a chair with duct tape, bleeding and blindfolded and covered in powdered henbane, all thoughts fled from him.

"Neris?!" He exclaimed, absolute horror and revulsion sweeping over him as he looked at her condition.

"Dr. Deaton," Neris whimpered.

Deaton rushed to her, fumbling with the knotted fabric that covered her eyes.

"They used henbane. They hurt me and put henbane powder on me to stop the healing." She told him, her voice weak and trembling. "I don't know how much is in my system, but we need to get it out."

"Who are 'they'?" He asked as he pulled the fabric off, meeting Neris' terrified eyes, the skin puffy and red from crying.

"I don't know," she sobbed, shaking her head as she shook – from pain or terror, he didn't know. "I never saw their faces."

Dr. Deaton took out a scalpel, slicing through her duct tape bonds as swiftly as he could. "Whoever they were, they knew what you are. I'm going to call Scott."

"No," Neris contradicted quickly, anxiously. "No, not Scott. Call Stiles."

"Stiles?" Deaton repeated, helping Neris onto the examination table.

"Stiles," Neris confirmed.

As he began cleaning the blood and powder off her skin, Deaton called Stiles.

"Hello?" Stiles answered questioningly, not recognizing the number.

"Stiles, it's Dr. Deaton," he informed him. "I need you to come to the clinic right away. It's Neris."

There was a shuffling sound on the other end of the call, "What's wrong; is she okay?"

"No, she isn't." Dr. Deaton told him.

The call ended abruptly; Deaton could only assume Stiles was on his way.

"How did this happen?" He asked.

"Jogging," she replied sullenly. "Someone bashed me on the head, kidnapped me. Cut me, burned me, threw henbane powder on me. They knew what they were doing. They knew exactly what they were doing."

After he finished cleaning her wounds, pausing only momentarily when he saw an unusual one on the back of her neck, he went over to the cabinet only he had access to, and pulled out the necessary ingredients to create an antidote. Charred cow bones, lemon juice, datura and finely ground amber that had a honey golden hue were all placed on the countertop.

"Were you stocking up?" Neris attempted to joke, the last word caught in a hiccup as she tried to steady her breath.

"It never hurts to be prepared."

"But isn't Datura poisonous too?"

"Sirens don't react to henbane the way humans or animals do, much like werewolves and wolfsbane," Deaton remarked as he ground the bones in the mortar. "Werewolves need more wolfsbane to purge it from their system, but to add more henbane to a siren would kill her. Datura is the only thing that can be used as an antidote."

"But what about the other stuff?"

"To clean the wound, stop it from scarring."

"Sirens don't scar," Neris replied, her eyebrows knitting as she sniffed lightly.

"With henbane, you would."

Neris made a soft 'hmph' as he began combining the other ingredients together.

"I just don't understand. Why would someone do this?" She asked, her voice catching. "I mean, who could…and I don't even know how long I was there. They said they had to put me to sleep and that that I had woken up three times, and it just doesn't make sense."

"There are people out there who let their anger consume them," Dr. Deaton told her as he began spreading the mixture gently on her wounds. "There are some people who believe the lives of others are of less value than their own. You've met people like this and I don't doubt you'll meet them again. But the most important thing is that you trust yourself and your friends, that you trust you'll be able to overcome the obstacles in front of you and keep fighting even if the bad things don't stop coming."

"But how do I overcome something like this?" She sobbed softly. "Someone actively sought out to hurt me and did so. They wanted me to break the Alpha bond – they knew what it was and what it meant and wanted it gone. And they didn't care how they were going to get it done. How – how am I supposed to get past that?"

"I'm not going to lie to you," he confessed as he finished applying the poultices. "It's going to be hard. It may be one of the hardest things you'll have to do, but you have Scott and Stiles. You have two friends who would do anything for you just as you would do anything for them. They're going to help you get through this, but first you have to let them."

The front door of the clinic screeched on its hinges as Stiles barreled into the clinic. He was flushed, breathing heavily from anxiety and the rush to the clinic, and when his sights came to rest on Neris his expression turned to horror and worry. Neris' eyes were downcast, her cheeks still stained from the freshly shed tears and her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Neris, what happened?" Stiles asked as he began walking towards her.

Dr. Deaton pulled him aside, away from the examination room to give Neris some time to recollect herself. Stiles would have a lot of questions – questions which Deaton himself couldn't answer, though he knew what the answers would be. She'd have to tell herself, but Deaton would tell Stiles what he could. He'd just have to bend the truth a little to do so.

"She's still in a bit of a shock; she stopped answering my questions a while ago, but from what I gathered she was kidnapped while jogging," Dr. Deaton paused. "And tortured."

"Tortured?!" Stiles exclaimed, looking over at his friend. "By who?"

"She can't remember; she says she never saw their faces." Deaton explained. "But when I was putting the herb mixture on her wounds to draw the henbane out, there was a particular one on the back of her neck."

"What, like the kanima did?"

"No, they were claw marks, as if something – or rather, someone – had dug their claws into her neck."

"You mean a werewolf?" Stiles asked, the color beginning to drain out of his face. Dr. Deaton nodded grimly. "How did she get out?"

"I didn't know at first; she just appeared out of nowhere, still strapped to the chair they put her in with a blindfold on." Dr. Deaton began. "Her ring. It's a tool for living sirens to evade extreme situations with the aid over their deceased ancestors. She literally went through hell to get here. It could've killed her."

Stiles sighed heavily. "What did Scott say?"

"She wouldn't let me call him," Dr. Deaton confessed.

"What?" Stiles asked, pulling out his cell phone. "He has to know."

"No Scott," Neris' weak voice was heard.

Stiles paused, phone still in hand, until reluctantly putting it back in his pocket and walking over to his friend. "Neris, you were kidnapped and tortured," Stiles began as gently as he could. "Scott needs to know."

"Stiles, we can't tell him," Neris pleaded. "Please, promise me you won't tell him."

"Wha – why?"

"Because whoever these people are, they wanted me to break the Alpha bond. The only blood bond that can't be broken and they wanted it done." Neris whimpered, fresh tears pooling in her eyes. "They already knew about the blood bond; they knew it was unbreakable, meaning they chose me. That means they want Scott to be weaker without me, and that they probably want to be stronger as a pack, too."

"Which is exactly why we need to tell Scott," Stiles argued.

"We promised each other a supernatural free summer!" Neris sobbed. "We owe him that! We owe ourselves that!"

"Neris!" Stiles exclaimed, grabbing hold of her trembling shoulders to steady her. "This could be what that Greek Alpha warned us about. Scott needs to know."

Neris shook her head, sniffing as the tears kept falling. "It's not what the Alpha said. Ioannina's oracle friend gave me three signs: a stampede of a single deer, the fury of a friendly canine, and the coming of crows. Whatever the Alpha threatened us about, it won't start until those three things come to pass."

Stiles pulled her into a hug, and he felt her arms wrap around him tightly. "We should still tell Scott."

"I know," Neris admitted. "But not yet. Not until the signs happen. We deserve the rest of this summer to be without anything bad happening."

Deaton could see Stiles wanted to argue, but he was grateful that Stiles let it drop. Neris was in a delicate state.

Deaton understood Stiles a little better now. He only knew the sarcastic sidekick that he had met only a few times. But the scene in front of him showed him why Neris had him call Stiles. Scott would worry and start pressing for information, and would proceed to try and locate her torturers and attempt a dialogue in his usual manner to come to some agreement and avoid any unnecessary violence. Isaac would immediately start tearing the city apart to find them and probably get himself killed or seriously hurt in the attempt to kill her torturers. He was fiercely loyal, in love with Neris, and trigger happy enough abandon her in the effort to destroy those who hurt her. What she needed was comfort, pure and simple. Stiles was human, with no ulterior motives or separate supernatural agendas he'd be distracted by. Right now, that was what she needed for that.

"Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" He asked, rubbing her back consolingly.

She nodded, sliding off the cold metal of the examination table to follow him out to his car.

"The henbane should be out of her system by now, but I'd keep the poultice on until you get home just in case." Dr. Deaton told her, taking her arm gently as he guided her out of the clinic. "Get a warm shower, and please, get some food in your system."

Neris nodded and managed a smile. "Thanks, doc."

"Call me if anything happens," Dr. Deaton directed his statement at both teens. They nodded, and Stiles wrapped a supportive arm around his friend as they walked to his car.

Perhaps it was just his imagination, but when Neris had said 'Thanks, doc', it almost sounded like 'Thanks, dad'.