Disclaimer: Don't own TW. Only my OC: Zarina.

The next day, the three of us were sneaking into the back door of the Tate house, the family that'd lost their young daughter, Malia, in a car accident years before.

After our unsettling visit with Deaton, Sheriff Stilinski came and asked for our help to find the girl, hoping that Scott would be able to get a scent.

The door squeaked as Stiles pushed it open, breaking me out of my thoughts. Scott and I flinched as he pushed it further. More squeaking. I pursed my lips in worry as he gave up and slid through the crack in the doorway.

We followed him inside and I looked around the room at the little girl toys that were scattered around it. I handed Scott a shirt I found on the floor and he sniffed it, shaking his head, and dropped it back onto the ground.

"All I'm getting is some kind of animal smell," Scott muttered.

"What kind of animal?" Stiles questioned. A low growl sounded and we looked up at a Rottweiler, not two feet away from us.

"A dog," I squeaked. The two boys whimpered and Stiles shoved a toy horse he was holding into his jacket.

"Hi, puppy," Stiles cooed gently, then looked over at Scott. "Get rid of it."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Glow your eyes at it. Something. Be the Alpha." But none of us dared to move.

"I can't. I don't have control."

"You have to try something," I hissed under my breath. He took a step closer to the dog.

"Nice doggy," he said lamely and I groaned inwardly as the dog started to bark.

I swiveled my head to my boyfriend, who looked just as freaked out as I felt. Scott backed up into us and the two boys held on tight to each other, squishing me in the middle of their bodies.

"Apollo! Apollo, shut up! Shut the hell up!" a man's voice shouted from the other room and the dog complied.

It seemed to glare at us for a second before traipsing away. The three of us let go of each other, slumping in relief. Stiles went over to a dresser and gave Scott a book.

"Here, try that," he offered. I looked at the items adorning her desk as they did their thing.

"Anything?" Stiles asked hopefully.

"All I'm getting is that dog," Scott sighed.

I motioned for Stiles to come over to me and he did as I pointed out a picture of two little girls. He bent down close to observe it before grabbing his phone and taking a picture of it. The back door squeaked behind us as Scott opened it and we filed out of the room as quietly as possible.

The three of us found the sheriff leaning against his car on the side road.

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

"It's okay. It was a long shot," he breathed out. "In fact, it was a pretty terrible idea. I think I just ripped a wound open in that poor man. I never should have brought you guys here. I don't know what I was thinking." He looked up at us and I gave him a small smile. "Thanks for trying, alright?"

"Yeah," Scott said and the sheriff patted his shoulder before getting into his cruiser.

"See you at home," he told Stiles and drove away, his son watching him disappear.

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

"Yeah, I just think this is the one he felt like he could've figured out right now," Stiles admitted, stuffing one hand in his pocket and the other in mine.

"Why is it so important now?"

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

"Wait? Still Sheriff?" I interrupted him.

"Uh, yeah. Scott's dad- he's trying to impeach my dad," he explained.

"Are you serious?" Scott burst angrily.

"Yeah," Stiles nodded sadly.

"He- he can't do that!"

"But he can."

"No. No, he isn't getting away with this. He's not firing your dad," Scott pointed at him. "I'm not letting him do this."

I glanced over at Stiles and back to our friend as he walked off, fuming, and then began to run. We made no move to stop him.

"Wanna hang out at mine for a while?" Stiles asked, looking down at me.

"Sure," I replied with a grin and hopped into the passenger's side.

"Are the nightmares getting worse?" Stiles questioned as he drove down the road.

I looked down at my shaky hands. They never seemed to stop shaking anymore. "Well, they're certainly not getting any better. Yours?"

"No, not really," he shook his head. "I hate this."

I hummed in agreement and the car fell quiet. I stared out the window and leaned my head against the cool glass.

You're all going to die.

I flinched and took a sharp intake of breath, head lifting from the window.

"What the hell?" I muttered, shaking my head slightly. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Stiles raised an eyebrow, concerned. But I didn't answer. "Zarina, what'd you hear?"

I furrowed my brow and bit my lip. "No, never mind. I just thought I heard the engine make some weird noise."

"You sure?" he questioned skeptically, parking in his driveway.

I gave him an assuring smile. "Positive."

He shrugged and the two of us got out of his car and into his house. He led me into his room and we fell onto the bed next to each other, my head nestled on his chest. My hands played with his fingers as we laid there in comfortable silence.

"Do you ever wonder what life would be like if Scott never got bitten?" I glanced up at him from behind my eyelashes.

"Yeah," he answered. "There's a lot of good stuff in that reality. No nightmares. No mythical creatures trying to kill me."

"Aw, but that's the best part of this all," I laughed. "I completely love getting my life threatened all the time."

"Smart-ass," he grumbled, kissing the top of my head. "But there's a lot of bad stuff, too."

"That so?"

"Mhm. Like, in that reality, you never saw me as more than a friend," he admitted.

"Stiles," I pursed my lips. "In any and every reality, I would love you as much as I do in this one."

"You love me?" he sounded surprised.

"Duh, you nerd," I propped myself up on my elbow so I could look down at him. "Just because I don't say it, doesn't mean it's not true."

"Girls are always so complicated," he rolled his eyes teasingly.

"But you love us," I grinned.

"More specifically, you," he winked and I giggled as he leaned upwards to connect our lips. Stiles flipped me over onto my back and his body hovered over mine, our contact never breaking. A groan sounded in the back of his throat as I licked his bottom lip and I smirked against his lips.

Then, the door burst open and my heart jumped out of my chest as Stiles flailed off the bed in surprise. I sat up, wiping my lips, and glared at Scott. His expression was horrified as he stepped in.

"God, I'll never get that image out of my head," Scott wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles asked, getting up off the floor.

"We're gonna go out and find a body." He flicked on his flashlight and smiled evilly.

About half an hour later, the three of us were trekking through the forest, flashlights illuminating the dark trees around us.

"You know, if our dad's right, that means there's another werewolf in town that we haven't met yet," Stiles said.

"I know."

"If it turns out to be something like triplets that for into, like, a three-headed hound of hell, I'm seriously not up for that," Stiles continued, hands motioning wildly. I stifled a laugh.

"Yeah, me either," Scott sighed. "Especially if I can't even control my own transformation anymore."

A coyote howl resonated through the trees and Stiles jumped, clutching onto our friend. Scott's phone fell at the impact and went straight into a puddle.

"Sorry, buddy," Stiles apologized, grimacing, and Scott rolled his head back in annoyance. "I hate coyotes so much. They always sound like they're mauling some tiny, helpless animal."

Scott took his phone out of the water and wiped it off. "It still works." He sounded impressed. Stiles was staring over at something on the hill.

"Let me see the flashlight," he grabbed for it and went down the hill, the two of us following closely.

"Is that it?" I inquired, looking at the overturned car that was placed in the middle of ravine.

"Uh, why wouldn't they move it? Isn't it evidence?" Scott questioned.

"Probably too much of a pain in the ass to tow out," Stiles mused, flashlight flickering around the wreck.

"Look at this," he pointed the beam at claw marks. "See those?"

"Animal claws would be closer together, wouldn't they?" I reasoned softly.

"A lot closer," Scott confirmed.

"Then it was a werewolf," I finished, sighing.

"So my dad was right," Stiles continued looking around the car and peering inside.

"Oh god, Stiles. Don't go inside, please," I begged.

"Do you see that?" he shined the flashlight into the car. "What is that?" He stuck an arm inside and pulled out a baby doll. It was the one from the picture we'd found in Malia's room. We all looked closer at it, examining the plastic figure.

"I'm hungry."

I don't think I'd ever screamed so loud before. I jumped into Stiles' arms as he dropped the doll, the two of us falling onto our butts in fear. Scott was in a similar position, panting heavily as he crawled backwards away from the doll.

"I think I just had a minor heart attack," Stiles informed us, helping me get up from the ground.

I brushed off the leaves on my jacket, getting the dirt off. Scott stared past the car and a growl was heard from the distance.

"Hey, guys. Please tell me you see that," Scott said slowly. I followed his eyes and my heart fell into my stomach. Two glowing blue eyes could be seen through the darkness.

"We see it," Stiles and I whispered. And then, Scott ran towards it, not bothering to say anything.

"Wait, hey, Scott!" Stiles shouted after him, but he didn't stop.

"Where did he go?" I looked around frantically, shivering as a cold breeze blew past me.

"I don't know, but I'm not staying in one place with some rabid coyote on the loose," Stiles grumbled, but pulled my wrist back towards him as he saw something.

"Look at that." He pointed the beam and we walked up the trail towards the opening.

"It's a…den?" I guessed, stepping inside the hole with him, hand firmly against the wall. Malia's jacket and scarf from the photo were inside.

"We have to find Scott. Like now," Stiles concluded, pulling me out of the cave. Once we were out, we sprinted down the hill and into the trees, twigs scratching my face as we did so. The two of us ran around the corner wildly and ran into someone.

"Ah!" I yelped out and Stiles screamed in fear.

"Whoa, whoa! Hey!" It was just Scott. I blew hair out of my face and stood as Stiles dropped the light from our friend's face.

"Oh, hey," Stiles greeted. "I think we found something."

"So did I," Scott agreed.

"Tell us on the way," I told him as we lead him towards the den.

Scott told us about how the coyote was Malia and how her eyes glowed blue when his did. He deducted that she was some type of werecoyote. Any other day, it would've been insane. But it was probably the most normal thing to happen to us at that time.

We arrived at the den and let the two enter the den alone, not wanting to cramp up the space too much.

"It's a coyote den," Stiles explained.

"I guess it's 'werecoyote' now," I corrected softly.

"You see this?" he lifted the jacket. "This is Malia's. Remember? It's the same one she was wearing in the photo."

"We shouldn't be in here," Scott mumbled.

"What do you mean?" Stiles put the jacket down.

"She's not going to come back now. We just invaded her home. Our scent's going to be everywhere."

"Where else does she have to go other than here?" I countered and he shrugged at me.

"Can you track her now? You think you got her scent?" Stiles asked, shifting in place.

"Maybe, but I'm better at this when I'm full wolf. And I'm still worried that if I do it, I won't be able to turn back," he confessed.

"The door's still open," Stiles agreed, sighing.

"If I can't get to Derek, we're going to have to find someone else to help. This is basically a crime scene, right? I think it might be a little out of my boss' league," Scott continued.

"And more in my dad's," Stiles realized, dialing his father's phone number.

As he called him, I stepped away from the cave and examined the trees. They were rustling in the wind and from the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow blur past me. I whipped around, looking for the shadow. Another one shot by from my other side and I turned to face it, but nothing was there.

"Don't you get it?" a voice whispered into my ear. I screeched and fell onto the ground, looking upwards at the shadow looming above me. "You won't win. None of you can win."

"Leave me alone!" I yelled, moving to get away from it, but it took a step closer for each time I moved back. "What do you want from me?"

"Do you realize how much easier it'd be for you if you let me in?" it growled, edging closer and closer to me. "You could save so many lives. But no, you refuse to accept that there is not way out for you. Not now. Not ever."

It finally stepped into the moonlight and I could finally see what it was that was tormenting me. It was a tall figure dressed in a black World War 2 jacket and khaki pants, but its head was covered completely in a white gauze.

The only thing visible on its face were its rows of sharp teeth. It crouched down above me and placed a hand on my shoulder, grip tight.

"We're going to ruin you," it growled and I didn't miss how it switched from 'me' to 'we'. "We're going to rip everyone you've ever loved apart limb from limb until you finally see that you cannot escape this."

"Please stop," I whimpered, tears escaping my eyes. "Don't hurt them!"

"Too late," it grinned down at me and I let out a heart-stopping scream as it plunged its hand into my chest.

"ZARINA!" I blinked and I was standing in front of the cave again, Scott's hand on my shoulder. I groped my torso, but found no traces of blood or any signs that I'd been hurt. "What the hell happened? You've been standing in that exact position for ten minutes, doing nothing. The cops are already here."

I looked over and saw Stiles talking with his dad, though he kept glancing over at me worriedly. I licked my lips and took in calming breaths, but my heart wouldn't stop pounding. It all felt so real. But it was just a blackout.

"What was that?" I whispered and Scott's hand fell from my shoulder as he looked at me questioningly.

"Rina, are you alright?"

"Y-Yeah, no, I'm okay. I just, uh- y'know what? Don't worry about it," I stuttered out, laughing nervously.

I gave him a tight-lipped smiled and started walking towards the Stilinskis. He followed after a second of confusion.

"But was she bit before or after the car accident?" Stiles was saying as we walked up to him. He gave me a look and I shook my head slowly, signaling that I was fine. Of course, he didn't believe me, but didn't push it.

We watched in silence as his dad walked up the hill and into the cave, coming out a few second later with Malia's blanket. He walked down the hill and to us.

"You're sure it was her?" the sheriff asked.

"I looked her right in the eyes," Scott told him. "And they glowed just like mine."

"It makes sense, dad," Stiles persisted.

"But it wasn't a girl. It was a four-legged coyote, right?"

"Well, okay. But yeah, see, that's the point that we don't have figured out yet," his son said.

"But if she changed on a full moon, with her mom driving the car, really really bad things could've happened," I interjected.

"Ripping, shredding, tearing things," Stiles clarified, motioning with his hand. "Which is probably what caused the accident. Think about it, dad, alright?"

I nodded when the sheriff looked doubtful. "So they're driving, right? Malia starts to change, she goes out of control, the mom crashes, and everyone dies."

"Except Malia," Stiles added. "She blames herself. Goes off running into the woods and eventually becomes trapped inside the body of a coyote."

"That makes sense," the sheriff conceded and I felt relief wash over me until he continued. "In a Chinese folktale!"

The two of us flinched back at his loud voice, admitting defeat.

"Guys, this is insane," he hissed. "I need this kept quiet. The three of you, not a word. I don't want anyone hearing about this. I especially don't want Mr. Tate hearing about this." Stiles and I nodded in submission, but Scott stared off into the distance.

"Scott?" I touched his arm gently and he jumped.

"Sorry," he shook his head. "What did you say?" The sheriff opened his mouth to repeat his warning, but another cop car pulled up.

"Oh hell," the sheriff muttered. Agent McCall came out of the car with Mr. Tate in tow.

"Mr. Tate," he greeted, but the man was looking at the blanket. "Mr. Tate?"

"It's hers," he whispered, taking the blanket.

"Alright, wait here," McCall ordered and I glared at him.

"Dad," Scott began.

"I'll talk to you in a minute," the agent snapped, cutting him off. "I wouldn't mind hearing how your mom's okay with you running around in the woods this late." Scott stayed quiet. "Show me where you found that, Sheriff."

Mr. Stilinski sighed as the agent stalked up the trail and Tate walked away from us, eyes still stuck on the blanket like glue. I turned to Scott, closing off our triangle.

"Why didn't she turn back?" I questioned.

"Maybe she can't," Stiles offered, crossing his arms. I pursed my lips and the two men returned from the cave. Stiles' dad ordered us all to go home and we did, not wanting to cause more trouble than we had to.

"Are you gonna tell me what happened at the cave today?" Stiles' voice rang out of my cell phone as I laid in my bed tiredly.

"Do I have to?" I asked back, letting out a small groan.

"Z, I just want to help," he said softly.

"I know, Sti, I know," I replied. "It's hard to explain."

"Well, we have all night." I could hear the grin in his voice. "I don't know about you, but I'm not very eager to sleep tonight."

I snorted. "We have school tomorrow. Nightmares or not, we need sleep."

"Eh, I can live without it," he reassured. "As long as I'm spending my time talking to you, then sleep can wait."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Stilinski," I deadpanned.

"I'm serious! Jesus, can't I just be a cutesy boyfriend once in a while?"

The two of us burst into peals of laughter and I felt myself grow slightly less stressed out. He always put me before himself. Always. I hated it, sometimes, because he had less than no regard for his own welfare, but at times like this, it made me feel safe.

Should I start with your little boyfriend? Limb from limb, Zarina. Limb. From. Limb.

My laughter stopped abruptly and my breath caught in my throat as I looked around my room. No one was there.

"I love you," I burst out, needing to tell him.

The fear and reality of the fact that I could actually lose him in less than a second was catching up to me. I couldn't let anything bad happen to him, but if something were to happen, I had to let him know. His laughter died down and I could almost see his soft smile.

"I love you, too."

Stiles, Scott, Allison, and I stood in the back of Mr. Yukimura's classroom, talking quietly together.

"Here's where we found the den," Stiles said, showing Allison the map on his phone. "It's right in the middle of the hiking trails."

"Well that could narrow it down," she nodded. "Coyotes travel in fixed trails, but I think you're right about her not going back to the den. Coyotes don't like wolves and they're really smart. If they don't want to be heard, they walk on their toes."

"Coyotes tip-toe?" Stiles asked, amazed.

"They tip-toe," Allison confirmed, rolling her eyes. The bell then rang and she started walking away.

"I got to go, but send me the pinned location," she called over her shoulder.

Stiles took a seat in the front and I sat beside him, looking over my shoulder as Kira went up to Scott and started talking to him.

"Aw," I cooed and motioned for Stiles to look at them. "That's cute."

"Such a girl," he scoffed jokingly.

"It's a good thing I am a girl," I retorted, smirking. "Otherwise, you'd be dating a guy. Unless you're into that type of thing."

"Ha-ha. Cute," he rolled his eyes as Mr. Yukimura walked into the class and called for his daughter.

"I know, I try," I winked at him and turned back to Kira and Scott.

"-you forgot the research you did for that boy you like," her father was saying, handing her an incredibly large stack of papers.

Her face squeezed in embarrassment as she turned back to my friend, who was grinning wildly. I grimaced. Poor girl. I turned to face the front as Scott sat in his seat behind me, reading the large packet of papers he was given.

"Alright everyone," Mr. Yukimura said, "let's get started. We were just talking about internment camps and preserves of war. There's a passage in our reading that I'd like to go over in more detail. Who would like to come up and read aloud for us?"

The class stayed silent, everyone unwilling to go up and read like we were in the third grade. Then, he looked over at Stiles and I stiffened.

"Mr. Stilinski, how about you?" he suggested.

Stiles looked up at him with wide eyes and fidgeted with his pen. "Oh, uh, may- maybe someone else could?"

"Everyone participates in my class, Mr. Stilinski," Mr. Yukimura informed him.

"Okay," Stiles sighed out and got up from his chair, taking our teacher's spot at the podium.

I bit my lip as Stiles looked down at the book, hands clenching on the sides of the wooden podium and his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to make out the words. His breathing grew harsh and he looked up at the class, eyes twitching. Scott and I immediately stood up in worry.

"Stiles, you okay?" Scott asked, the two of us inching toward him slowly. He didn't respond, just continued to breathe harshly as he slumped against the podium.

"Uh, we should take him to the nurses' office," I told our teacher as the two of us grabbed a hold of Stiles' arms. He nodded and we each hurried out the door and toward the men's bathroom.

Stiles burst through the door, shoulder slamming against he doorframe as he entered the bathroom.

"Stiles, dude, listen to me," Scott spoke hurriedly. "Is this another panic attack?"

He gripped the sink and stared at himself in the mirror. "It's a dream- this is a dream. This is just a dream," he muttered to himself.

"No it's not!" I told him, looking at him pleadingly. "This is real, you're here. You're here with us!"

"Okay, um," Scott thought for a second. "What do you do? I mean like, h-how do you tell if this is- if you're awake or you're dreaming?"

"Fingers," Stiles gasped out, swallowing. "You- you count your fingers. You have extra fingers in dreams."

I held up a finger and looked at him. "H-How many do I have?" But Stiles was still panting, looking down at the sink. "Come on, Stiles, honey, look at me okay? Count with me. One."

I held up another finger.

"Two?" he gasped out, though it sounded more like a question. I continued to hold up fingers, making him count each one until we finally reached ten.

"Ten," I told him confidently, nodding. "Ten."

His breathing slowed and his back hit the wall as his body slid down onto the floor. I hurriedly sat next to him and he laid his forehead on my shoulder as I rubbed his head soothingly.

"What the hell is happening to me?" he asked us.

"We'll figure it out. You're gonna be okay," Scott assured him.

Stiles looked up from my shoulder and at the two of us, eyebrows furrowed.

"Am I? Are you?" he asked weakly. "Scott, you can't transform. Allison's being haunted by her dead aunt. Zarina's hearing and seeing things that aren't even there. And I'm straight up losing my mind. No, we can't do this. We can't- we can't help Malia. We can't help anyone."

Scott sat down in front of him slowly. "We can try. We can always try."

"A couple of students said they thought they saw it running across the field and back into the woods," the sheriff was walking with Stiles and I after Scott has mysteriously run off to save Kira from the werecoyote that was attacking her. "Thank god nobody got hurt."

"What happens if she does hurt someone?" Stiles inquired.

"Most likely, they'll have to put her down."

My eyes widened, "Wh-what? Can they do that? Put her down?"

"Dad, try to remember there's a girl in there. One that you'll be killing," he looked at his father seriously. "Come on, you're not back to not believing, are you?"

He turned to the two of us as we stopped walking. "You know what? I believe that there's a lot I don't understand yet. But that doesn't mean that anything and everything imaginable is suddenly possible," he said, exasperated. "Now are you 100 percent sure that this is a girl, not an animal?"

"Yes," Stiles answered immediately, "because Scott's sure."

We looked behind us and Scott was standing there, watching us. Stiles muttered something quietly and the werewolf nodded.

"Alright, let's figure this thing out," the sheriff conceded, walking us into the locker room.

Kira was sitting with her dad while Stiles' went to talk to his deputies and scope out the scene. I followed Stiles and Scott over to his backpack, which had been ripped open by the coyote.

"Yo, guys. I think I know what she was looking for," he pulled the baby doll from the other night from his bag.

"You took the doll from the car?" I smacked him upside the head.

"Ow!" he yelped, rubbing the spot. "Yes, I thought Scott could us it. For, like, her scent."

"Where did you get that?" Tate stormed over to us and ripped the doll out of his hands. "Where did you find this? It belonged to my daughter."

"Sorry," Stiles apologized weakly. The sheriff came over to us and pushed us away from the livid man.

"Mr. Tate, I don't know how you heard about this; if you've got your own police scanner or what not, but you can't be here," he said, urging the man to step back. But then he froze, pushing back Tate's jacket to reveal a gun.

"I have a permit," Tate defended himself.

"California schools are gun-free zones, permit or not permit," the sheriff warned him. "You need to leave, Mr. Tate. Now." He pushed the man back harder this time.

"You-you find that animal," he spat. "You find that thing."

The three of us teenagers looked at each other.

"We're gonna need some help," I crossed my arms.

"I know who can," Scott replied without hesitation, dialing a number on his phone.

I felt bad for Mr. Tate at that moment. He had no idea that the 'thing' he wanted us to catch was his own daughter.

Stiles, Scott, Isaac, and I surrounded the metal table in Deaton's office, trying to find a peaceful way to get Malia to return to a human.

"Xylazine. It's a tranquilizer for horses," the vet explained. "For a werecoyote, expect it to work within seconds."

He put three vials of clear liquid on the metal surface in front of him. "I only have three. So whoever's shooting needs to be a damn good shot."

The boys looked at me and I shook my head, "Unless I'm allowed to throw the darts at her, I'm not an option." They sighed and fell into a thoughtful silence.

"Allison's a perfect shot," Scott said.

"Well, she used to be," Isaac argued realistically.

"She can do it."

"If we manage to find the thing."

"Okay, what's the point of him?" Stiles cut in, irritated with Isaac's lack of positivity. "Seriously, what is the purpose of him besides the persistent negativity and the scarf? What's up with the scarf, anyways? It's 65 degrees outside."

I stifled a laugh under my hand and Isaac shot me a sarcastic look. I cleared my throat and smacked Stiles' arm, giving him a mockingly scolding glare.

"Look, maybe I'm asking the question no one wants to ask. How do we turn a coyote back into a girl, when she hasn't been a girl for 8 years?" he explained.

"You remember the night Peter trapped us in the school?" Scott looked at Stiles and I.

"Vividly," I shuddered.

"In the gym, he was able to make me turn, just by the sound of his voice. Deucalion did the same thing in the distillery," he continued.

"This is a werecoyote. Who knows if it'll even work if we can find someone to teach you," Deaton countered.

"That's why you called Derek first," Stiles realized.

Scott nodded. "But he's not answering any of my calls. I could try it on my own, but right now, I'm too scared to change into just a werewolf."

"We need a real Alpha," Stiles rubbed his chin and Scott had a wounded expression on his face.

"Real encouraging there, Sti," I piped in.

"You guys know what I mean," he corrected himself hurriedly. "An Alpha who can do…Alpha things. You know, an Alpha who can get it going…"

"Up?" Isaac suggested.

"Oh, lord," I groaned, closing my eyes as I sighed.

"Great, so I'm an Alpha with performance issues," Scott mumbled.

"Is there anyone besides Derek who can help?" Deaton questioned.

"I wouldn't trust Peter," Isaac admitted and I nodded in agreement.

"The twins?" I offered.

Deaton shook his head, shooting down my idea. "The twins aren't Alphas anymore. After what Jennifer did, almost killing them? It broke that part of them."

"Yeah, but what if they still know how to do it," Stiles argued.

"Nobody has seen them for weeks."

Stiles and I looked up at each other with small grins.

"Well, that's not totally true," Stiles admitted slowly.

"We know where to find them," I assured them. "And they'll help us. I'll make sure of that."

AN: THIS IS EMOTIONALLY HARD TO WRITE CAUSE SO MUCH PAIN. Tonights episode was not okay. I'm unstable and I actually really liked it, though 99% of tumblr would disagree, but ehhhh. I won't say too much cause some of you may not have watched it, but yeah. It was goood. Arden Cho is a goddess omfg.

Thank you all for the support! It makes me smile each time I see a new notification. Love you all.

Please review/fave/follow if you enjoyed. oh and tell me any reactions in the reviews. I'd like to know how you guys feel about all this.

xx.