John stepped out of his patrol car, relieved and even a little bit happy, as horrible as that sounded, that things were starting up again. Beacon Hills was never that silent and it had rapidly become worrisome, and boring as all hell.

"Hey, Pendleton, you ca- No." Sheriff Stilinski swallowed, hard, his heart skipped a beat; his eyes landed on the scene before him. His whole world stopped. It couldn't be; John's own life flashed before his eyes as he took in the sight of his son's mangled jeep.

Stiles was so proud of that jeep. From the start he had acted as if he hated the old thing, but the Sheriff knew better. Afterall, Stiles had given it a name. And there was Roscoe, still smouldering with smoke and upside down. Oh God; John Stilinski couldn't breathe.

"We were just about to call you, John," Tara's voice cracked.

"Where is he? Stiles! Stiles, is he already at- at the hospital?" The Sheriff yelled, his voice getting caught in his throat. It felt as if all the oxygen had completely disappeared from the atmosphere.

Neither answered his question, both deputy Pendleton and Tara exchanged devastated looks. "John."

"Where is my son?" John asked quietly, pleading with them to give the answer he so desperately needed to hear. Blood rushed to his ears, muffling, blocking all sound. His vision blurred and he became dizzy.

"No! Stiles!" John screamed in agonizing pain, a scream that could only be produced by someone losing a loved one. He wasn't supposed to lose Stiles too. Life was not supposed to be like this.

Tara and Pendleton could physically feel the sheriff's pain. Somehow, it seemed their hearts were beating faster and slower at once. His reaction shook them, and vibrated through them in a frightening way. Tara looked away, her heart shattering all over again, unshed tears falling in thick drops from her heavy eyes. She had taught Stiles how to multiply, she had given advice on Lydia. Stiles was such a presence in her life. She had no words; she didn't know how to comfort her boss and friend of many years. She watched as his world crumbled down on top of him.

"Not my son," John cried, in complete denial and distress, as salty tears met his cracked lips. "Not Stiles. Please God, not my son. Please," he begged with passion, as if he were bartering for his own life. He found himself on his knees, his forehead pressed against the worn asphalt. His right hand was balled into a tight fist which he slammed down onto the asphalt, and down again even harder. John was angry and was using that anger to fuel the little strength he had left, to just keep breathing. It was hard.

He wasn't even sure he wanted to keep breathing.

TAMT

"Derek's loft?" Melissa questioned, smirking half-heartedly.

She was exhausted. It took her an hour to get a hold of the coroner, and another thirty minutes to get him to agree to help her. When she arrived at the jeep it took ten minutes of crying before she could call 911. It was so unbelievable that Stiles had actually survived the crash, with just a few ugly bruises, he was lucky.

"You told me to go somewhere nobody had a chance of finding me. Nobody's come here in months," Stiles explained emotionlessly.

Melissa inhaled sharply. The dark circles under Stiles' eyes had gotten darker in the fifteen hours since she last saw him. His clothes were wrinkled and his cheeks were stained with tear tracks. He was a wreck and telling him about John and Scott would only make him change his mind, and she knew that couldn't be an option. Peter was far too ruthless, Stiles wasn't safe.

"Okay," she nodded. "I found a good city for you. It's going to take a day or two to find an affordable apartment in a decent enough school district, because you will be going to school Stiles."

"That's not really the most important thing is it?" Stiles scoffed, kind of harshly.

"No, it's not, but that's besides the point. You don't need to be constantly alone to wallow in your thoughts. It's not healthy, and you are too smart to not finish school. We will make the best of this horrible situation, you won't be alone. You're not on your own in this," Melissa explained to him. "You'll be calling me at least once a week. No son of mine is going to leave me uninformed; I'll be worrying too much. Oh," her eyes widened with realization at the words that slipped out of her mouth.

"Son, huh?" Stiles smiled for the first time in, what had to be, weeks. "Thank you," he continued to smile as tears started to flood his eyes. Stiles hugged her, "thank you," he repeated quietly.

"You're welcome," she smiled, hugging him back. She rubbed circles on his back, surprised at Stiles' reaction.

"How is everybody?" he asked, his eyes shifting away from Melissa.

"Stiles," she looked at him pointedly.

"I know. Dumb question; I just," he exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. "What if I never see anybody again? I mean, everybody believes I'm dead. What if I can never come back here?"

"We are going to find a way out. Peter won't get away with this, I promise, everyone will know the truth and welcome you home with open arms. I'll find a way to make everything better, I swear to you Stiles," Melissa reassured him. She carefully wiped away his tears with her thumbs.

"I believe you. How badly is this hurting them, dad and Scott? It wasn't supposed to be like this. I wasn't supposed to die; it was just supposed to be the stupid kid that ran away from home. I don't want to cause this much pain," Stiles explained, while stretching his sore arms. His shoulder blades were bruised from the crash.

"It's not going to be easy. Honestly, I'm not sure how things are going to turn out. It's bad, but you need to be safe. And so do they; if you're here and human, they're not safe. Peter's not going to stop. But maybe if he thinks you're dead," Melissa told him, stiffly.

She felt guilty, she didn't want to lie to him, she didn't want to leave out the real reasons Stiles had to play dead, but it was for his own safety. Melissa had done her own research. He couldn't know how easily Peter would back off everyone Stiles loved, if Stiles just submitted. Stiles would end up giving Peter anything he wanted if that's all it took to save everyone. Peter wanted to trick Stiles, he wanted Stiles to think that his loved ones were in danger when they really weren't. By the times Stiles would realize, it'd be too late.

Stiles didn't know the truth of it all. He didn't know how far Peter was planning to go. If a spark was bitten, they wouldn't have an alpha, sparks weren't normal humans. The alpha needed the spark to submit to the bite in order to gain control of the spark. It's why Peter had asked before, it's why he listened when Stiles said no. But Stiles had known that much, it's the other stuff, he hadn't had the chance to read, that was the real danger.

She was guessing that control over Stiles wasn't the only thing Peter wanted, he wanted Stiles' power as well. She didn't want Stiles to know that, he was too vulnerable at the moment.

Stiles was always saving everybody, it was his turn to be saved, and Melissa had every intention on being successful.

TAMT

She had bid Stiles goodnight and walked two blocks to where she parked her car. Melissa was now currently on her phone talking to Chris Argent.

"You have to understand, even if he can manage to change back, Scott's not going to be what he once was. Stiles was a huge part of Scott's humanity, and that humanity is gone. Stiles was his best friend. He's going to be different, that is if he can even change back again. Some werewolves never manage to come back from a loss like that Melissa. Look at Peter Hale," Chris regrettably explained to her.

It was easy to say that Scott took the news the worst, because he did. He yelled at his mother and started crying. When Melissa tried to comfort him, he pushed her away and wolfed out for the first time since he became alpha. Scott was angry and restrained in the Argent's basement, still wolfed out hours later. His betas had been whimpering since, they were having a hard resisting his call.

Melissa quietly wiped away her tears. "Scott will change back, he has to."