Oliver glanced across at the driver's seat of the car, watching Diggle as he concentrated on the road ahead of them.

The storm had finally passed Starling City, and Oliver, Sara and Diggle were on their way to the airport, where a chartered flight would carry them directly to Beacon Hills. It had been a treacherous journey from the centre of the city out to the airport and Oliver was glad that they hadn't taken Felicity up on her offer of driving them to the airport, mainly because he wasn't comfortable with her driving alone all of the way back into the city of the badly water damaged roads.

As they approached the airport Oliver pulled his phone out of his pocket, and tapped on Stiles' contact. He hadn't called Stiles yet to alert him they were on their way yet, wanting to make sure they got to the airport before calling, just in case the damage from the storm prevented them from getting there or caused a significant delay.

Lifting the phone to his ear Oliver listened to it ringing, before he heard Stiles' voice answer.

"Oliver…where are you?"

"We've just got to the airport. We've chartered a flight directly from Starling City to Beacon Hills, so the minute we're aboard we can take off. We're about three hours away…we should land around midnight.

"Ok," Stiles replied, "I'm heading out to where the league is hiding…I'll send you co-ordinates when I get there."

"Who are you with?"

"no-one," Stiles replied. Oliver could image Stiles shrugging his shoulders carelessly as he spoke.

"Stiles…be careful. Just…hang off for a few more hours, and then we'll be able to help."

"They don't have a few more hours, Oliver," Stiles snapped down the phone, "I need to get them out…Now. Hell, as it is somebody might be dead. I know that at least one person has already been shot with wolfsbane. Wolfsbane bullets are not something you play around with when it comes to shooting werewolves."

"Is there any way to confirm who it was?" Oliver asked, unable to keep his fear from his voice. The mere thought of losing Roy, just days after learning that the younger man was actually his half-brother sending a chill through his entire body. Oliver wasn't sure what he would do if Roy had been killed by the league as some retaliation against Stiles. Roy didn't even know about the relationship between him and Oliver yet…Oliver had wanted to tell him in person.

"No, I know it was one of the wolves…or maybe Kira…I'm not sure what wolfsbane bullets do to kitsunes. I need to go, Oliver, I'm getting close, and I don't want to accidently tip the league off."

Oliver forced himself to calm down. Stiles was competent…from what he'd heard from Sara, and he was resourceful. He also had as much of a home ground advantage he was going to get. He knew Beacon Hills and it's surroundings like the back of his hand. Nobody within the league would have that kind of knowledge…not unless they'd had someone posted there over a long period of time.

"We'll be there as soon as possible." Oliver promised Stiles, "Try to make sure you're still alive by then."

"You know I can't make any promises, but I'll try," Stiles replied, trying to sound casual and flippant about it. Oliver, however, could see right through the act, without even needing to see Stiles.

"If…if things go badly, and you get to the co-ordinates and nobody is there…head to Beacon Hills Veterinary clinic. There's a man there…Alan Deaton…he knows about things, not the vigilante things, or about the league, but about werewolves and stuff…he'll be able to help you."

"Stiles…just…be careful. Don't do something stupid."

"Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?" Stiles quipped in reply.

Oliver sighed, "I'll see you soon, ok Stiles?'

"Yeah…hopefully. Bye Oliver."

Stiles hung up and Oliver slowly lowered his phone from his ear. Keeping his head down and studiously avoiding meeting the gaze of Diggle and Sara.

"Is he ok?" Sara asked.

Oliver hesitated before responding, "I don't think so. We need to get to Beacon Hills…now."

Sara glanced across at Oliver anxiously, her eyes filled with worry about Stiles. Oliver felt his stomach churn as Diggle drove into the carpark. Stiles' life was in considerable danger, and so was Roy's. As much as Roy was Oliver's brother by blood, Stiles had become like a brother to Oliver as well during their months together on Lian Yu.

If either of the two younger men died Oliver wasn't sure if he'd ever truly move on from the loss…from how much potential the two younger men had, and how would have been snuffed out.

"Stiles has a good head on his shoulders, he knows what he's doing," Diggle offered reassuringly to Oliver and Sara. Sara swallowed and nodded, while Oliver running his hand over his face. Diggle was right…Stiles wasn't an idiot…he knew what he was going into…perhaps more than anyone else.

Oliver just had to trust that Stiles would use his knowledge to gain the upper hand.

TW/A

Stiles dropped his phone onto the passenger's seat and concentrated on the winding track that he knew would take him close to Derek's old hideout at the old train depot. There was another track that went right past it, but Stiles knew that, if he used that road, he was going to get seen, losing the element of surprise.

Unsurprisingly, the first two possible locations he'd decided on had been busts. The buildings looked as though nobody had been anywhere near them the whole time Stiles had been away from Beacon Hills, so now he found himself driving towards the old rail yard.

Derek had chosen the railyard as his hideout for numerous reasons. It was isolated, miles from the nearest building, meaning that nobody would be likely to hear the noises made by three newly turned werewolves, along with their Alpha. Nobody would see Derek's car unless they happened to be driving along the track that led up to the railyard, which was unlikely because the railyard was deserted and nobody ever went there.

Just as much as the building had met Derek's needs, it would now be well suited to the needs of the league…especially if Kate was involved and knew about Derek's connection with the place. He imagined that it would appeal to her morbid and slightly sadistic taste for irony (judging solely from her keeping Derek captive in the basement of his burnt out house.)

Stiles pulled his car over to the side of the road and turned off the engine, pulling the keys out of the ignition and getting everything he would need out of the car. He slung his bow and quiver across his shoulder, before checking the rest of his arsenal of weaponry were in their designated sheaths and holders on his body. He checked, one last time, that his guns were loaded, and he had spare ammo in the pockets of his cargo pants, both wolfsbane filled bullets, and normal as well.

Satisfied that he was ready, Stiles pulled his domino mask back over his features, locking the car doors and hiding his car keys behind the wheel on the front passenger side, right where his dad and Scott would know to look for it.

Rising to his full height, Stiles patted the bonnet of the Jeep lovingly one last time, before he turned and began to hike through the trees, his footfalls light and nearly soundless, his keen eyes helping him navigate around trees and tripping hazards with a sort of grace and stealth that Stiles knew his teenaged self would never have been able to achieve. It had taken hours upon hours of practise, on the island, and later with the league, for Stiles to get the hang of being able to move so quietly, and Stiles felt a thrill go through him as he realised how grateful he was for that training in that particular moment…and how he was finally getting to put it to use saving his pack.

Stiles moved silently through the trees, his senses pushed as high as they would go. The rustling of the slight breeze through the leaves…the distant sound of nocturnal birds chirping quietly…Stiles heard all of it, his eyes constantly scanning his surroundings for any sign of the league.

"Constant Vigilance," Stiles whispered to himself, remembering how Slade, and later on his teachers at the league berating him for his inability to focus and pay attention to his surroundings. It seemed the lectures, and sometimes punishments involved in his training, had finally paid off, as Stiles kept his focus the whole, three mile journey from where he parked the Jeep, to the railyard where Derek had used to hide out and train Erica, Boyd and Isaac.

Stiles stopped as he crested a hill, still safely within the tree line, and crouched to the ground, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the clearing the disused railyard was in. There were seven vehicles parked in the clearing, black vans and SUVs that Stiles knew that the League used to transport prisoners.

From where he was crouching, he could see there were lights on within the main building, judging from the lights shining through cracks in the boarded up widows of the ground floor of the building. Stiles let out a breath of relief and pulled out his phone, sending off a text message to Oliver of the co-ordinates for the railway yard, so that Oliver would be able to find them if they weren't at Deaton's or at Stiles' father's house when Oliver, Sara and Diggle arrived in Beacon Hills.

The message sent, Stiles double checked that his phone was on silent, and the vibrate was off, not wanting to lose the element of surprise by his phone giving him away…or to get distracted at a key moment during the fight by his phone ringing.

His phone safely back in his pocket, just in case he did need it, Stiles exhaled as he studied the building, formulating a plan in his head of how he was going to get into the building. Satisfied that he knew what he was doing, Stiles rose to his feet and began to slowly inch towards the building, scanning for any perimeter guards or men left on watch.

"Right," Stiles breathed as he reached the tree line, only a few scant feet from the wire fence that encircled the property, "time to kill some evil sons of bitches and raise a little bit of hell."