There were secret labs and rooms full of equipment that none of the pack understood. A lot of them looked like medieval devices from Hogwarts. These rooms were looked into and searched thoroughly in hopes of finding a way to deal with the beast in a faster and safer manner. But when it came to the Dread Doctors there was no safety. Only madness and danger.

Despite the pack getting back together and having as much help as they could get, they were still split in many ways. Malia and Braeden were dealing with the Desert Wolf, Hayden was playing her part in unknowingly helping Deucalion manipulate and control Theo for Scott. Mason being the Beast shifted their plans from killing the thing to saving it, but working with Gerard Argent made things difficult. The Beast and the Doctors were the toughest villains they've face so far.

But it was also the strongest they've been.

They all gave it 100% and when faced with their challenges they gave it a bit more.

Theo was dealt with, as was the Desert Wolf. All that remained was the Beast and Mason. The Dread Doctors feared the Beast would be defeated and their work would be for naught, and that was how the machine was started. That was what led Stiles after that one Doctor while the others tried to fight the Beast and Lydia tried to call Mason back into his human form.

When the machine was fully operational everything else was going haywire. Beakers and other glass objects exploded, gravity would stop working for a moment and everything that wasn't bolted to the floor would float, static crackled through the air and made the hairs in the back of Stiles's hair stand on end. Stiles tried his best to figure out how to break it or turn it off but there wasn't a how-to manual and the environment was next to insane with power that even he could feel.

A howl pierced through all the noise the machine was making and it distracted Stiles for a moment. That was Scott's howl, he'd know it anywhere. And because he's known Scott since he was four, a smile broke out on his face because that was a victory howl.

He was about to yell to Scott to come get him and take care of the last Dread Doctor when there was a blinding flashing light and a pulse of power that he felt surge every single cell in his body.

Gravity broke again but this time instead of floating up, he was falling down.

Fast.

Stiles managed to crack an eye open, even if he wanted to close them until the ringing in his ears stopped, but he cracked them open. He wasn't in the underground tunnels or the science lab behind a secret door. He was outside...he was falling, and he was outside.

There was a nauseating crack he heard and felt when he landed. The pain was so intense he blacked out...which he would be thankful for.


"Try to keep still."

"This will hurt."

"You'll be in pain, but you'll live."

Stiles wasn't sure if he really heard those words or not. He was in a lot of pain and he knew that could lead to hallucinations or visions. He was having a hard time remembering what happened. He wasn't sure where he should be, but he was sure he needed to be somewhere.

"Scott..."


"Stiles!" Scott screamed as he burst through the door.

The room was a disaster. Equipment and machinery, all just about broken. Small fires cackled and static buzzed. Scott scanned the room and caught Stiles scent and it was fresh. But there was no sign of him.

"Scott!" Lydia called to him from outside.

The young Alpha ran towards her and saw her kneeling next to a banged up Deucalion.

Deucalion groaned in pain, "Urgh...today is not my day."

"What happened? Have you seen Stiles?" Scott demanded.

"I smelled him and one of the Doctors..." Deucalion began as he tried to sit up more, but groaned in pain again. "I was just at the threshold when the machine's power pulse threw me back." He looked at Scott for a moment, eyes meeting, before he looked away in sadness. "Stiles had been standing next to the machine. He should be in there."

"But he's not!" Scott cried, not getting what Deucalion might be hinting.

"I know...I'm sorry."

Scott's eyes widened when he got the hint, but he didn't want to believe it. He stormed back into the room and grabbed the Dread Doctor by the front of it's armor, shifted, and roared, "Where's Stiles?!"

"Whe-rever...the otherside...leads..."

"Other side? What does that mean?" Scott demanded.

"It was a vi-sion. An-other world. More possibilities...more."

"Where does it lead? How do we get there?" Lydia demanded, standing next to Scott.

"You don't. Portal...destroyed."

"What about Stiles?" Scott demanded, tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

"Most likely...dead. If not, then stuck. Forever." The wiring-sonic voice of the Dread Doctor was becoming distant, like a toy running out of batteries.

Angered and miserable, Scott acted on his instincts and tore a hole in the Dread Doctor's chest with his claws.

"Scott!"

"He was useless. Call everyone. We're getting every piece of clue we can from here. We're getting Stiles back."

Lydia looked at the man before her, moments ago he'd been so strong and proud. He'd just gotten his pack back and stronger than ever...and now this. She nodded and did as asked.


"So...is your name Scott, or is that someone you know?"

Stiles opened his eyes and then closed them again when he felt pain...everywhere.

"You have a few broken and bruised ribs. Broken arm too."

Forcing the pain away enough for him to get a look at the speaker, Stiles opens his eyes to see a man with blocky glasses. One frame had a crack in it and it reminded him of Harry Potter for a moment. But the man was much older than Harry from his Chamber of Secrets adventures. His hair was silvery grey with a lighter grey at the bottom half of his head. He was scratched and dirty and had the clothes that was somewhat like a Jedi and what the Tributes wore in the first Hunger Games movie.

Then he looked down at himself and let out a scoff. "Look like a mummy..."

"You were in pretty bad shape. I don't have much medicine on me. Anything I did could only help fight off infection. Until you're okay to move, I'm afraid you'll be in pain."

Stiles stared at the man and he sort of liked him already. He didn't blink or shy away but not because of arrogance or pride. He was allowing Stiles to analyze him as best as he could. Let Stiles get a read on him and become comfortable. Or you know, as comfortable as he could get. When Stiles had what he wanted he tried to rest in the most comfortable position he could find...which wasn't easy. The man next to him saved him. He was willing to share medicine despite looking like he should be saving it. For himself, either in use or in barter. And he chose to use it on Stiles.

"Scott's ma bes' frien'." Stiles mumbled out. He tried to remember what had happened before he blacked out but he couldn't remember. But he did remember who he was at least, and that was something. "'m Stiles. Stiles Stilinski..."

"Ford. Standford Pines."

At least he got his savor's name before he passed out again.


"How's the Sheriff?" Chris asked as Parrish came into the tunnels.

In response Parrish just let out a deep sigh.

Chris nodded. "Yeah..."

"Melissa gave him a sedative and is with him now. How's Scott and Lydia?" Parish inquired.

"Erratic, desperate, angry, devastated but not taking time to grieve." Chris replied.

Parrish frowned at how the hunter said that. "They're just trying to save Stiles..."

"Can they?" Chris asked plainly. He knew he couldn't ask that of any of the kids right then but asking Parrish was different. He was slightly older and law enforcement. He understood how these things worked a little better.

"They have-" Parrish began but Chris cut him off.

"Scraps. Scraps and parts of a machine they have no idea how it works. Anyone that could give any real, vital, useful information is dead."

"Doesn't your family have any clue?" Parrish asked.

Chris shook his head. "My family is about werewolves and other beastly things. Machines like the kind the Dread Doctors used? At best we can maybe guess what they were for. Maybe how they worked...but that's the more basic stuff like the goggles Malia used to find Deaton."

"Any chance you have some contacts you can reach out to?" Parrish asked.

"No. Honestly, Parrish...I'm here to make sure they do what they need to. Because right now they're in the denial stage. Eventually they'll gather all the parts, put them together as best as they can, try to fill in the rest but...you want my honest opinion?"

"I have a sickening feeling that it involves the Sheriff being the only Stilinski in Beacon Hills." Parrish answered with a bit of a scoff.

"It's hard to accept, I know. Harder still because there's no body and the illusion of hope. But it is what it is. And Stiles is gone."


"They were these...impossible beings. Once...maybe they were human, but at the point I met them? Abominations. Prolonging their lives through paranormal-science and other unholy tactics. They were known as the Dread Doctors. They didn't care how much they broke people, so long as it helped them further their goal to bring the Beast to life..." Stiles was recounting his tale to Ford as the older man changed his bandages and cleaned his wounds. As he finally remembered the last moments in Beacon, he drifted off into his mind.

When Stiles was able to stay conscious long enough to understand what was going on, Ford explained it in easy terms. Maybe Stiles accepted it and understood it better because of all he's been through the last couple of years, and even then he was in slight disbelief.

Another world. Between dimensions. Multiverse.

"Then what happened?" Ford's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"Hm? Oh. The Dread Doctors had gotten into the head of this punk ass. Theo. We called them Chimeras. They were genetic chimeras...something in their DNA or structure made them different than the average human. Nothing overly spectacular but it was that little difference that made them targets for the Dread Doctors experiments. These teenagers became part beasts...just about all the perks without any of the cons. Unlike some of my were-creature friends who couldn't get passed a barrier of mountain ash, they could. They reeked havoc and all to unleash the Beast...Theo cost us our pack. He broke us apart and turned us against each other. It felt horrible..." Stiles said miserable, remembering all the things he felt. Loneliness, guilt, shame, desperation, longing.

"The world was so much darker and lethal...the only thing that kept us going, that kept us sane...was being together. A pack. A family! And Theo ruined it for a while..." He winced as Ford applied a new bandage. He took in a sharp breath before continuing. "We got back and it seemed like everything was turning around. We had a plan to save Mason from the Beast. Theo was taken down by Skin-Walkers that our friend made a deal with. Malia's mother lost her powers...all that was left was to wrap things up."

"Let me guess...things got complicated?"

"Things for weird. And for us that was saying something. My friends with the powers were off dealing with the Beast and I was cleaning up else were. I followed the remaining Dread Doctor and that's when he started the machine. I tried to stop it. To turn it off. But...it went off. My senses were overpowered, I went from standing on concrete to falling from the sky...then my crash landing being what it was."

Ford sighed, "So...chances of the machine you went through being in tact are...low?"

"It was rusty and the machine was already breaking apart when I was trying to turn it off." Stiles answered. "Let me guess...one way ticket?"

"So far..."

"You were from my world too, right? How long have you been here?" Stiles asked.

Ford looked at him with an intense stare. Stiles could practically see the gears turning in his head, working on overdrive. Contemplating if he should lie and what that lie should be. Then he sighed before answering honestly. "About twenty-five years. The risks of operating such a machine are dire. I was foolishly arrogant in my beliefs that I was actually helping the world instead of creating a stepping stone towards it's destruction. Every day a portal doesn't re-open is a day I know the world I left behind was still there. Still...okay. Maybe not great, but okay. And okay would have to do."

Stiles observed him carefully before asking, "You finding me wasn't an accident. I mean...you weren't necessarily looking for me per say but..."

"The machine that brought you here was different than mine, though it got the job done. There were warning signs. I followed them and I'll admit, I got to you a good day and a half after you landed here...the land's bare though, so there wasn't any animal or hooligan to harm you any more." Ford said.

"Which brings up another critical matter." Stiles stated. "Food, water, and actual shelter...we're way too open."

Ford nodded in agreement. "Can you move?"

Stiles tried to get up, with Ford's help he was able to. He let out a few shaky breaths before he nodded and took a step forward. It hurt like hell. But he'd trudge through. "I don't suppose you have a walking stick I could borrow?"

"We'll get you a good branch." Ford said as he already began to scout for said good branch.

"Even then, you'll have to be patient with me." Stiles said as he tried to sake a few big steps but the pain was too much. He was losing his breath fast and it was way too much strain.

"Slowly. Time will heal it, and I assure you...time we have." Ford said as he wrapped his arm around Stiles and helped him support part of his weight. The older man looked up, "All we got is time."


Derek's eyes glowed and his fangs and claws extended at the same times as Braeden raised and readied her gun. They locked in a stare down before they realized who they were facing.

Braeden then let out a breath and lowered her gun. "What the hell, Hale?!"

Derek raised an eyebrow at her after he shifted back. "I believe that's my line. You're the one in my loft."

She rolled her eyes as she went to turn on the lights. "You've been gone, god knows where, doing god knows what or who. It was paid, empty space we needed."

"We?" Derek asked.

"Well, the pack as a whole. But also me and Malia. FYI, I'm dating your cousin."

Derek stared at her with a blank expression for a moment. "You...and Malia?" Derek made motions with his hands, butting them together and interlocking his fingers.

"Yes, Hale. That and then some."

"Wow. I can't believe I'm actually concerned about this but...how did Stiles take that?" Derek asked with a bit of a grin. He's been traveling and it hasn't been without danger or trouble. He was glad to be home. No matter how many horrible memories Beacon held, it was still that; home. Though he won't admit it out loud...he's missed the pack.

But then he caught scent of Braeden's chemo signals and his grin fell. At first he thought that maybe there was some dispute about Malia getting with Braeden after maybe a horrible break up. But then he began to notice the rest of the loft. One corner looked like a crime investigation task force, another looked like a science lab from a Frankenstein movie. He took in deep breaths and though he was now aware that he'd find scents of Braeden and his cousin and their 'activities', he would think they would be the most prominent. But they weren't. They were the strongest, but Scott's, Lydia's, Liam's, and Parrish's were also strong and recent. Along with scents of people he didn't know.

Hanging on one of the investigation maps was a picture pinned that grabbed his attention. Dread filled him and clenched his heart. Though the McCall pack could never replace his birth pack, his family...along the way they did have a close bond. As weird as it was to think, Scott and Stiles were very important to him. So to smell everyone's scent but Stiles's, and seeing his picture pinned to an investigation board with a blue thumbtack had his mind racing with the worst things he could imagine.

He turned to Braeden and demanded, "Where is he?"

"We don't know."

"Is he dead?"

"We don't know."

"What happened?"

"We don't know."

"What do you know!?" He demanded angrily.

Braeden sighed as she headed into the kitchen. "It's nearly morning. Scott, Lydia, and Parrish will be here soon anyway. Let's make some coffee...we're gonna need it."

Telling Derek all that's happened since he's been gone was going to result to being a very tiring day.


*SIX MONTHS LATER*

Ford approached the most likely place that Stiles would have used as a shelter. Two weeks ago they were forced to separate because they were being chased by too many monsters and couldn't stay together. After they decided they would travel together, they set up plans for all sort of scenarios. Ford did his best to explain this new world to Stiles, and to his credit, Stiles adapted rather well, even in his injured condition.

If they were ever to be separated for any reason they'd head up north. Set up markers to alert the other. Ford himself chose the shape of a sail boat. Stiles chose Scott's mark, the circle within a circle.

As Ford trudged North he caught sight of target like symbol and continued on. "Stiles?"

He didn't want to expose himself to any possible enemies near by, so he didn't want to be loud. Ford tried to locate any natural formation that could be used as a shelter, taking in mind that Stiles was still healing. The teen did his best to move as normally as possible, but with them barely getting to places where Ford can get medicine and technology to heal him, it's been rather slow.

Stiles seemed to be a fast healer for a human, and was very stubborn, but now Ford had some tech that would speed up Stiles's healing from the inside.

Another hour of Ford following Stiles's signs and occasionally calling out his name, Ford heard a reply.

"With pen and paper, shield and sword..."

Ford couldn't help but smile softly at their code to make sure the other was really them. "Our quest shall be our sweet reward."

There was some movement as rocks and branches were pushed aside and then Stiles came into view.

"Were you hurt?" Was the first thing Stiles asked him. Months later it was still weird traveling with someone he's actually grown to trust. Someone who showed true concern.

Even though he didn't trust Stiles 100%, Stiles didn't take offense because the teen was clever and skeptical of Ford himself. It wasn't anything personal...it was just in their nature. As Stiles phrased it, 'I hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.'

"No. You?" Ford asked in turn.

"I was already hurt before we went in there, so I don't think it counts." Stiles replied.

"I beg to differ. It does count, but I got what I needed. I just need a little time and we can get these nanos into your body to start patching you up from the inside." Ford said as he showed Stiles what they went into that place to get.

Stiles looked very skeptical. "Are you sure? It sounds really...science fiction-y."

"Maybe back in our world, Stiles. But here Sci-Fi isn't just a fantasy. It's reality." Ford said as he followed Stile to where he had set up a form of base camp.

It was getting dark so it was best that they were properly prepared. Stiles set up more room for Ford and began building the pit for their fire. Ford meanwhile went to build the perimeter check as well as basic traps and alarms to warn them of possible enemies.

Once settled, they rummaged through their food and began to eat. While they did, Stiles watched Ford tinker with the supplies they got.

"So...break it down for me?" Stiles prompted.

Ford paused in his working and showed Stiles something that looked like a Lite Brite inside of a Digivice. Pointing to the Lite Brite thingy, Ford began to explain. "In here are nanites, nanobots, and for being very simple creations they can do a lot of...well they have the ability to do two commands. Absorb electricity and duplicate. This could be very dangerous if it falls in the wrong hands. We're talking major black outs with notechnology being able to be used whatsoever! But the medical possibilities are what we're after. These nanos have the ability to fight malignant and harmful cells in the body, repair and restore tissue damage..."

"But?" Stiles asked, knowing there was always a but.

"There are dangers, Stiles. It could outright kill you. Or heat the air in and around you to the point of combustion." Ford explained.

Stiles stared at him for a long moment before he leaned back into his space and looked up at the sky. It wasn't his sky so he didn't know the names of the constellations there. There was no comfort in this world and because of his crash landing he was wounded and weak. Their landscape wasn't the best or most fruitful. "I'm slowing you down..."

"No, Stiles, of-"

"Shut it old man. We both know it's true. So this...I either heal or die. But either way you'll be on the move, right?" Stiles asked.

A sort of pain filled his eyes as Ford stared at Stiles. "It's...the most logical option. Reasonable too. Stiles you're strong. Anyone else wouldn't have made it this far with your injuries. I believe you will see this through now matter what."

"I'm not saying no." Stiles said in turn.

"What?" Ford asked, a bit confused.

"I know my options. I'm dead if I don't get healed properly. And as far as we got...this?" he said as he pointed to the device in Ford's hand. "Is as proper as we can get. I may not be able to get home...but I don't want to die either. So...let's do this."

"I..." Ford them cleared his throat and nodded, steeling his resolve. "Alright. A few more adjustments and then we can get this show on the road then."


*ONE YEAR LATER*

"What are you doing here?" Scott asked without looking away from the cackling fire.

"I could ask you the same thing." Derek said as he approached the young Alpha and sat next to him.

"You already know the answer though." Scott scoffed.

Derek nodded and when he caught sight of the Jack Daniels in Scott's hand he raised an eyebrow at the other werewolf. "You know we can't get drunk right?"

"I learned that here with Stiles after Peter bit me...he was trying to make me feel better." Scott smiled at the memory and even chuckled, though it was sad. "He was so drunk..."

Letting out a deep sigh, Derek reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a flask before passing it over. Scott looked at it weirdly, even as he accepted it. "Braeden likes to party and Malia didn't think it fair she couldn't get drunk too. There was a recipe in the Hale vault for getting wolves drunk. It's safe and we have a batch ready at the loft just about always...I like to keep a flask on hand. For times like these."

Scott stared at him blankly for a moment and it almost physically hurt Derek to see the once so hopeful teen so...serious. The Alpha uncap the flash and took a swing, coughing a bit at the taste. "That's...*cough cough* strong."

"Alcohol is supposed to be." Derek replied as he grabbed the flask and took a swing himself.

They passed it back and forth until it was gone. Both buzzed but still alert enough to react.

"You know...there's a lot of shit we went through. A lot of unfairness since I was turned. But this...this is worst. It hurts more than when I lost Allison..." Scott muttered the last part.

Derek heard him though, "What you had with Allison was complicated. But Stiles was your best friend...your brother. He was with you always. Good, bad, weird..."

"I should have been there for him. He shouldn't even have been there!" Scott cried.

"Your pack, his pack, was in danger. Human or not, Stiles was going to be where he's needed." Derek told him.

Scott sighed as he slumped back. "It's the not knowing that sucks. With Allison dead, at least I could move on eventually...But how can I move on knowing Stiles might be alive."

"He might be dead." Derek stated.

"But he might be alive!" Scott insisted with anguish in his voice and that was the winning argument.

"I miss him too, Scott."


*THREE YEARS LATER*

Ford held a searing hot piece of squared metal in the fire while Stiles steeled himself. The blood was soaking through the cloth in Stiles's hand rapidly. "We need to hurry."

Stiles took in rapid breathes before placing a leather belt between his teeth and nodding to Ford. When Stiles removed his hand, Ford pressed the hot metal against his skin to seal the wound.

"AAAAAAHHHHHRRRMMMMMMMMMM!"Stiles clenched his teeth as the place where his right arm once was was sealed to stop the bleeding. Immediately afterward Ford injects him with as many painkillers as he dared.

Before he passed out, Stiles muttered, "Wanna kill tha' thing fer eatin' ma arm..."

"Don't worry...we'll get it." Ford promised quietly as he began to clean up Stiles's other wounds and then his own. He mentally cursed no longer the nanites that once fixed Stiles's ribs. But he took them out a month or so after Stiles was full healed, worried about any long lasting after affects. He'd keep the nanites for a future adventure, knowing they'd come in handy...but months after that, they were robbed of everything but the clothes on their backs.

While Stiles slept, Ford began to design Stiles a prosthetic arm. One that would attach and work as much as an actual human arm could. They were going to need parts.


*FIVE YEARS LATER*

Ford looked at the sky with a severe frown.

"What?"

"It's happening again."

"My arm broke again, my metal one not the real one. May not hurt, but I'm still not in the best mood. Can we skip the crypticness today?" Stiles asked.

Ford looked over at the younger man with a softer expression. "You're right. I should be focusing on your arm."

Stiles shook his head. "No, Ford. Tell me what's happening."

"..."

"Ford!"

"It's the portal!" Ford blurted out.

"The portal...?" Stiles looked up at the sky and then he felt it. He felt like he was holding onto one of those electro ball things that make your hair stand on end. Then there was a static pulse that rang through the fields, and for a moment...gravity stopped working. "It's opening?"

As much as Ford knew it was dangerous...it could mean getting Stiles home. So he was grinning softly. "Seems like it...but if we want to be at an opening when it does, we need to plan and hurry."

"Hurry...right."

That was the most hopeful Ford has heard Stiles be in nearly half a decade. It was good. This could be good.


"I'M NOT GOING TO MAKE IT!" Stiles yelled from the lower part of the hill.

"YOU WILL! JUST...COME ON!"

The winds were gusting powerfully, gravity kept having it's hiccups, and monsters of all sorts were coming out of the woodwork to get through the portal. Stiles and Ford were doing their best to keep anyone from going through but in that attempt they became separated.

Then the portal began to open near Ford and Stiles knew that only one person was getting through. He smiled sadly at his friend, "DO ME A FAVOR! GO TO BEACON HILLS. TELL MY DAD AND MY FRIENDS...tell them...TELL THEM I'M DEAD, FORD! MAKE SURE THEY MOVE ON WITH THEIR LIVES!"

"NO! YOU'RE COMING WITH ME!"

"FORD, BE LOGICAL!"

"FUCK LOGIC! STIIIIIIIILES!" There was a bright, blinding light and a pulse much like the one that sent Stiles to another world.

When he blinked his eyes open, he stood to deafening silence. He looked at where Ford once stood and smiled sadly. "Your quest here is over...good luck on the next one, bud." Then he grabbed his gun and pointed it to the near by monster. "Now which of you fuckers broke my metal arm?"


"You're really not going to thank me for saving you?" Stan asked Ford.

Ford looked at him incredulously. "Thank you!?"

Had Stan saved Stiles too, maybe...but thinking that not only had he fucked up so big that he let Bill trick him, but that Stiles was still stuck over there and now alone...no, forgiving wasn't possible at the moment.


"Great Uncle Ford...what as it like over there?" Dipper asked after they cleaned up their mess with Probabilator.

"Dipper, I'm going to ask you not to ask me about my time away. It's...not the best things to remember." Ford replied.


*ring ring ring*

"Sheriff Stilinski. Hello? Hello, who is this?"

*click*

As much as Ford wanted to complete Stiles's wishes, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. The portal was dismantled, Stiles was stuck. He was as good as dead whether he lived to die of natural causes, as far as this dimension was concerned.

Letting out a deep sigh, Ford went back to his work. Anything to keep his mind off of his friend he had to leave behind. He knew he'll have to tell the Sheriff one day, and soon, but not today. Maybe not tomorrow either. But soon.


Fin