A hushed silence met Ra's question, and Stiles licked his lips nervously, although he didn't blink, nor look away from Ra's penetrating stare. This was it, this was his final interrogation.

"Because I killed Allison Argent. I wasn't the one who took her life, but I was the one who was weak enough to be possessed by the Nogitsune, and he was the one who organised it. You're all here tonight because Kate Argent thought I'd gone unpunished for her niece's death. You're all here tonight because I couldn't let go of the pack I left here in Beacon Hills…because this is where my loyalty lies, and not with the League of Assassins. You're here tonight because Kate whispered in the ears of your lieutenants who already didn't like me, and convinced them that I was being unfairly favoured by you, especially when it is known that I am not the one foretold in the prophecy."

Stiles broke of, his gaze flickering down to Kate's body, before he returned his gaze up towards Ra's face.

"I am guilty of Allison Argent's murder, and the deaths of many others during my time being controlled by the Nogitsune. I grieve each and every one of their deaths, and the guilt I feel over my actions during those dark times to this day cannot be expressed by words. I am also guilty of the crime of favouring my own personal connections…my family and friends, above the league. The loyalty I feel towards them…it isn't going to go away…they're always going to come first. Kate's hatred of me was deserved, but I feel no remorse for her death. The things I know she has done to others who I love…those crimes can never be forgiven. In fact…I'm actually surprised that you guys never took her out for what she did to Derek's family, let alone the rest of the stuff she's pulled over the years, and that's just the stuff that I know about."

Stiles pursed his lips shut, unable to believe that he'd actually just started running his mouth. He hadn't babbled like that, especially around Ra's, in years.

Ra's, for his part, was giving Stiles and appraising look, as if he was weighing up his options and making up his mind about what he was going to do to Stiles. Stiles sent a silent prayer up to whoever was listening for a quick death.

A smile crossed Ra's face, and Stiles felt fear spark through his body as he mentally prepared himself to die. He didn't close his eyes though, facing death, accepting his fate as Ra's reached over his shoulder and drew his long sabre. Stiles could hear the pack screaming his name, although ironically he couldn't hear Lydia's voice over the din. Even with her unconscious and with a gag in her mouth he would have thought he would have heard Lydia finally banshee scream, announcing his imminent death to the world, so many years after she thought she was supposed to have done it.

Ra's raised his sword over his head, and Stiles felt relief was over him. It looked like Ra's was going to either behead him, or cleave his body in two. It was the wrong kind of movement for a stabbing injury to Stiles' body that would leave him slowly bleeding out over a drawn out period of time.

The sword swung down, and Stiles kept his face resolutely fixed on Ra's as the sword came swinging down…right past Stiles' face, and missing his body altogether, and instead slicing Kate's body clean in half…almost identically to how Kate had cut Laura's body in half, all those years before.

Stiles blinked…"what?' he stammered in shock, looking down at Kate's severed body, before he looked back up at Ra's. In the background Stiles could hear the sobbing and the calling of the pack, and the murmuring of the members of the League

"Stiles Stilinski…Al ththaelib Aldhy yudir mae al dhdhiab…The fox who runs with Wolves…I, Ra's Al Ghul, release you from the League of Assasains. May you have freedom to the end of your days…and peace. May you live out your days with your pack…your loyalty to whom has never wavered. I am honoured to have met a man who is as loyal to your friends as you are. I feel that if there were more men like you in the world, it would be a far better place, and the League would not be needed to dole out Justice for the sake of humanity."

Silence met the pronouncement. Stiles' mouth fell open, "that…that's it? I'm done?"

"You're done, my young friend. You were a boy when you came to us, but you leave the league a man…one that I am sure your father over there is very proud of. I myself am proud of the person you have become. If you ever have need of our aid you know how to contact us."

Ra's reached out his hand, and Stiles only hesitated for a moment before he took it, shaking hands with Ra's al Ghul…as an equal.

"I…I have some requests," Stiles began, "A gun loaded with wolfsbane bullets that are the same type as the ones used to shot my pack so I can heal their injuries and any of the people I…I killed tonight. If you can bring them back…do it," Stiles requested, "except for Kate Argent…she stays dead. By my thinking she's already had her second life. The others were only following her orders."

Ra's chuckled, and looked down at Kate's body, "her body will never rest together again, you have my word. To borrow a phrase…heads or tails?"

"Heads," Stiles replied confidently, and Ra's nodded, gesturing to one of his men to come forward. The man offered Stiles his semi-automatic rifle, and Stiles quickly checked that the bullets matched the same casings that he'd found at Derek's loft, before he nodded his satisfaction to the man, and to Ra's. Stiles cringed when the man grabbed Kate's feet and began dragging her lower body away, leaving a thick blood trail, while the rest of the league gathered their other fallen comrades.

"We will take our leave. I wish you the best of luck," Ra's offered. Stiles incline his head in a respectful bow, and Ra's nodded, before he turned and walked out, followed by the rest of the members of the league, who all ignored Stiles, making for the exit. Stiles watched every last one of them go, still holding the gun in his hands as he watched and waited until they'd all left, passing through the same door that Ra's had entered through. Stiles listened, and he could hear the sounds of the league members getting into their cars and driving away. He stayed still until everything fell quiet outside the railyard.

A soft hand on his arm made him jump, startled, and he whirled around to face Melissa, her eyes filled with tears as she looked at him, having approached him while he was preoccupied.

"Stiles," she began, but Stiles shook his head and took a step back.

"This isn't over," he told her, "we've got to get out of here, now. I don't trust them enough that they haven't rigged this place to blow up once they're clear."

Stiles strode around Melissa and towards the cage, Melissa hurrying along behind him.

"Stiles…you're hurt."

"It's nothing," Stiles shrugged, "here, hold this for me."

Stiles passed the rifle over to Melissa, who took it gingerly from him, holding it carefully, as if it was a bomb about to go off. Stiles gritted his teeth and used a wooden crate to vault up on top of the cage, treading carefully across the bars until he reached the electrical wiring that was ensuring that the werewolves and Kira were kept powerless.

Now that he was closer Stiles could see the black blood tricking from Derek's nose, and the black blood that soaked a makeshift bandage around Jackson's leg, as well as the worryingly pale complexion Kira had. Scott was trying to avoid putting pressure on one of his legs, the black blood still dripping from it onto the concrete floor of the cell a sign that he too had been shot. Stiles just prayed that he had enough bullets with him to counteract the poison.

Stiles, drew his knife and began working through the wiring, remembering back to the night where he'd tried to free Erica and Boyd from the Argent's basement. It soon became apparent that it was going to be too risky for Stiles to cut through the wires…not without electrocuting himself…which wouldn't really achieve anything.

"Alright…plan B. block your ears guys," he told the pack, who immediately obeyed, blocking their ears as Stiles drew his own gun, aimed and fired it, severing the wire that was leading into the wiring, obviously the original source of the electricity. Immediately the wires stopped humming from the electricity flowing through them, and Stiles heard Jackson and Liam sigh in relief.

"Man that sucked," Jackson groaned as Stiles cut through the wires that fed down to each supernatural member of the pack, before he dropped back down to floor level, reaching into one of his numerous pockets and pulling out his lock picking equipment, crouching down at the cage door and beginning to work on his padlock.

"What took so long, Stilinski?" quipped Jackson.

"I had to figure out where you were, and figure out a plan of attack, and then I had to wait for it to get dark so no-one saw me driving around town. I had it under control," Stiles defended as the padlock clicked and fell open in Stiles' hands. Stiles removed it from the cage door and then swung the door open. Melissa rushed through the door, embracing first Scott, and the Stiles' father in embraces. Stiles moved over to Chris, who was the closest, and began picking the handcuffs holding him in place.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Stiles apologised as Chris's wrists fell free, but before he could say any more Chris's arms encircled him in an embrace. Stiles stiffened in surprise, freezing up in Chris's arms as the older hunter hugged him tightly.

"You did good, Stiles…Allison would be so proud of you."

"Thanks Chris," Stiles smiled, and Chris let him go. Stiles stepped back and moved over to Lydia, who had woken up and was groggily standing upright, leaning against the wall of the cage. She smiled at him cheerfully as Chris gingerly stretched out his legs, before beginning to help free the rest of the pack.

"I knew you'd come…You have no idea how close I was to screaming all day. You put me through hell, I was convinced you were going to end up dead."

"You weren't the only one," Stiles agreed as Lydia's cuffs clicked open and she practically fell into his arms.

'Are you ok?" Stiles asked. Lydia nodded against his neck, pressing her lips to his cheek.

"Thanks to you."

Stiles gave Lydia a grim smile, before she moved over to Parish, obviously planning on helping Chris free the deputy, while Stiles, hesitating only briefly, moved over to his father.

"I bet you're glad now that I picked up how to pick locks," Stiles jokingly offered, ignoring the tears shining in his father's eyes.

"After what I've just seen you do I'm pretty sure you would have picked up lock picking at some point." His father replied with a wry smile of his own. Although Stiles could tell his father didn't mean it, Stiles' gaze inadvertently slid over to where the top half of Kate's body was sprawled on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood.

Stiles said nothing to neither his father, nor Melissa as he picked the handcuffs holding his father in place, until they finally fell open and the Sherriff dropped his arms with a sigh of relief, rotating his shoulders with a wince. He lowered his gaze, stepping back and beginning to move away, heading towards Jackson. Chris had already freed Kira, and they were working together to free Scott, while Lydia was carefully detaching the wires from Parrish's exposed chest.

"Stiles," the Sherriff's voice offered quietly, and Stiles turned back towards his father, the older man cupping Stiles' face between his hands, "You did what you had to do. They wouldn't have let you get out of here alive, and they were going to kill us. You didn't do anything wrong. It was all self-defence"

"Now you know though," Stiles replied, still not meeting his father's eyes, "now you know what I became when I was gone. How I trained in ways to kill people…I…I…" Stiles choked on his words, his breath stuttering as he felt tears building in his eyes.

'Hey…hey, Stiles, it's okay, you're okay. We don't need to talk about it until you're ready, okay?" The Sherriff interrupted, tilting Stiles' chin up with his finger so that their eyes were meeting, "You did a good job in getting us out tonight. We'll talk about what happened after we've all had a rest."

Stiles nodded, forcing himself to calm down and take a few deep breaths. His father enveloped him in a hug, and Stiles clutched at his father's shirt, fisting his fingers in the material.

"I've got you, it's ok, we're ok, you're ok," The Sherriff soothed gently.

"Stiles, we need to get out of here," Chris gently broke the moment between Stiles and his father, and Stiles sniffed, pulling away from his father and wiping his hand over his face, wiping away the tears.

"Ok, Melissa, pass me the gun," Stiles ordered. Melissa wordlessly handed it over and Stiles removed the magazine, before passing it back to her. He carefully removed the bullets from the magazine, passing the bullets, his strongest knife, and his lighter over to Chris, who nodded, knowing what needed to be done.

"Are any of you guys hurt," Stiles asked, directing the question towards his father, Melissa, Lydia and Chris Argent. They all shook their heads, and Stiles nodded in visible relief.

"I parked three miles away so they wouldn't hear me coming," Stiles told them as Chris began cutting the tops off bullets and pouring the wolfsbane out onto the floor, preparing to burn it and use it to treat the werewolves' bullet injuries. Stiles met Scott's gaze, and Stiles could tell that they were both thinking of the night when they'd helped Derek when he'd been shot by Kate. Stiles' gaze flickered over to Derek as he remembered how Derek had writhed on the ground as the treatment worked, although obviously it had caused him a lot of pain.

"Good plan," the Sherriff nodded encouragingly.

"Yeah," Stiles nodded, "except for the fact that I only brought Roscoe up here, and there is no way we're all going to fit."

"We can run back, Stiles…it's ok," Scott nodded, "It won't take us long, once we've healed."

"What if they left a car here?" Kira asked hopefully, "maybe we can use that."

"I doubt it. Kate's the only one they left behind, they took the rest of their wounded," Stiles shook his head, "and I really wouldn't trust a car they'd left behind. They would have rigged it to blow up or cut the brake lines or something like that."

Parrish nodded in agreement, and Stiles remembered how Parrish had served in the military before he'd become a deputy. It was good to know that, Parrish agreed with him, having gone through a similar training process.

Chris used Stiles' lighter to ignite the wolfsbane that he'd poured out of the bullets, and the werewolves, all stepped forward. Stiles bit his lip sympathetically as the wolves began applying the wofsbane ash to their respective bullet wounds, trying unsuccessfully to ignore their screams and howls of pain as the toxins and poisons were leeched form their bodies.

"I'm going to scout the perimeter, get one of them to howl if you need me," Stiles told Chris, and his father, who both nodded. Stiles pulled out both of his guns and handed them over to the two older men with a grim smile, before he turned and walked out of the cage, walking towards the same door that Ra's and his men had used to enter the building.

As he walked Stiles picked up his bow from the ground where he'd dropped it at some point during his fight with Kate, as well as the few remaining arrows, all of which had fallen out of his quiver during the battle. Stiles slid all but one of the arrows into his quiver, notching the last to his bowstring as he ducked out the door and began to walk around the perimeter, just like the guard had been doing when Stiles was on the roof of the abandoned building.

Stiles took advantage of the solitude, breathing in deeply the cool night air. He could hear the sounds of the leaves rustling in the trees, and the soft creaking of the trees as they swayed gently in the breeze. There was no sign of the league. The cars that Stiles had observed when he was approaching the building, were all gone, save for an rusted out old truck that Stiles remembered being there when Derek, Isaac, Erica and Boyd had used the railyard and the attached building as a training ground. One look at it told Stiles that none of the pack would be able to get the old truck working again without access to mechanic's tools, so Stiles disregarded the truck. It would have been useful to have another mode of transportation…there was no way all eleven of them were going to fit in Roscoe. Scott had offered for the werewolves (and presumably Kira) to run back, but Stiles still felt guilty about the fact that the werewolves, all of whom had been shot with wolfsbane, would have to run the distance. Even after the bullet wounds and the poisoning resulting from them the wolves would still feel the effects of being shot for a few more hours at least.

Although he knew that Oliver, Sara and Diggle were on their way, Stiles knew that he didn't really want to wait at the railyard for the others to arrive. It would at least be another hour before their plane landed, possibly closer to one and a half hours, and Stiles wanted to get back to the relative safety of suburbia and his father and Melissa's house as soon as he could.

Stiles completed his walk around the perimeter of the building, relieved to find no sign of anything suspicious left lying around by the league. He stopped, leaning against the wall, checking his own injuries. His bullet wound to his shoulder had mostly stopped bleeding, although it still hurt to move his shoulder too much. Drawing his bowstring back had sent fire shooting down his arm, and up into his chest, so Stiles was very relieved he hadn't needed to try it since he'd re picked up his bow and arrows.

The slash wounds made by Kate's claws were still bleeding, although Stiles was relieved to see that the black material of his combat gear had hidden the injury, and the blood that he'd lost from it. Stiles knew that he was going to need stiches, and he cringed. He hated having stiches, he always had, and it wasn't something that had gone away during the years following the Queen's Gambit going down.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Stiles re-entered the building, relieved to find that the pack were all upright and out of the cage. Chris was looking down at Kate's body, and Stiles swallowed nervously.

Derek and Scott both looked up at the same time, and Scott crossed over to him and engulfed him in embrace.

"Thank you," the Alpha werewolf choked out, "You saved us. I don't know how we stayed alive while you were gone."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "er…you probably weren't being targeted by the League of Assassins. This was my bad, Scott. I was just fixing it." Stiles looked away, his gaze falling, again, towards Kate's body, "It was all because of me anyway."

"Dude, it's ok. Everyone's ok…it's going to be fine."

"Scott's right. Chris and Parrish are going to come back out here after some sleep and bury her somewhere in the preserve…after they burn her body, so she can't come back," Derek added, his eyes narrowing towards Kate. Stiles could practically feel the hatred the werewolf felt towards the deceased hunter. He didn't blame him.

"Are you guys ok?" Stiles asked, deciding that a change of subject was in order. They both nodded in reply.

"Good thinking with getting one of them to leave their gun behind with the bullets," Derek nodded encouragingly, "We might have been in trouble if you hadn't done that."

"It was a rare variety," Stiles replied, "I found a bullet at your place and had a look at it. I was pretty sure it was a different species to what Chris uses. It wasn't worth the risk."

"Hey son," the Sherriff acknowledged, walking up to Stiles, Derek and Scott, "How does it look out there?"

"All clear," Stiles replied promptly and confidently, "they've left the immediate area. We should get a move on though. We can move together until we get to Roscoe, then we're going to have to split up. Roscoe can carry five, but anything more than that is going to be squishy…and I really don't want to get pulled over."

Stiles' father and Scott both snorted.

"Derek, Parrish, Liam, Kira, Jackson and I will run back," Scott replied, "You can take your dad, mom, Lydia and Chris back. Where are we meeting?

"I'll get Deaton to meet us back at Dad and Melissa's house?" Stiles offered. Scott, Derek, and the Sherriff all nodded in agreement to this.

"I, um, I had some back up coming as well. They got a bit delayed by bad weather…is it ok if I tell them to go straight to the house when they land?" Stiles asked his father, who nodded.

"Yeah, of course…I'm assuming that they're safe to be around?"

"Yeah…probably one of the reasons I'm still alive today. Jackson knows them as well…he probably trusts them more than he trusts me."

"Well that's not difficult" Jackson interjected from where he was standing with Melissa, Parrish and Lydia, obviously having been eavesdropping on the conversation.

Stiles rolled his eyes at the werewolf, "See…they're fine, we'll be good."

"Alright then." The Sherriff nodded. Scott looked around, and by some unspoken signal, everyone knew it was time to go.

Leading the way, Stiles walked back out of the building, leading the pack out into the cold night air…and freedom.