Lydia doesn't stop running for ten minutes and by then they're outside of Beacon Hills. As Lydia slows down, Malia can see that they're approaching an abandoned building. The taller girl catches a scent then and pulls them both behind a tree and in doing so she notices that Lydia's eyes have reverted to their original shade of emerald green.

Werewolves, Malia mouths, a finger pressed to her lips.

'I know,' Lydia whispers back, 'I can sense them.'

Although this causes Malia to raise her eyebrow, she doesn't seem too surprised, 'how many?'

'Three this side, two round the other side. You know Malia - this was supposed to be re-con only,' Lydia raises an eyebrow at her friend.

'Now you and I both know that was never going to happen,' Malia twists her mouth into a smirk.

Lydia smiles back, 'time to see what I can do.'

Lydia points the location of one of the werewolves to Malia and just as the wind changes and the wolves catch their scent, they launch an ambush.

Running towards the werewolf on the left of the building, Lydia sends a burst of power in his direction, sending him to the floor in a cloud of dust. She looks around wondering how she can keep him down and spotting a tree which looks as if it's been recently cleaved in half by a lightning strike. She sends her power towards it finding that she can sense where the tree touches the ground shifting her power a little, Lydia is surprised when the trunk lifts away from the ground. The werewolf is slowly getting to his feet as Lydia swings the hunk of tree round and it hits the man with a crack; he slumps back to the floor.

The strawberry blonde pants as she looks around to find Malia. The coyote is holding off two at once, a male and a female. She is ferocious in her attacks but Lydia can sense the injury to her left arm. Thinking quickly Lydia sends freshly fallen leaves towards the wolves, circling them as they fight to see through the sudden curtain of foliage. Malia spares only the briefest of glances towards her friend before diving into the fray with renewed confidence.

Gathering her energy once more, Lydia sends a burst of power to one of the wolves; the strength of the blast sends him toppling into the building, knocking him out. Before the female has chance to alert the rest of the pack Malia silences her with a right hook to the temple.

The two girls walk towards the entrance and as they meet Malia grins at her friend, her only comment, 'power suits you Lydia Martin.'

Not sure how to respond Lydia keeps quiet, only shooting a small smile at her friend.

Malia follows Lydia into the building; both of the girls tiptoe quietly next to the walls, Lydia sending out probing tendrils of power, gathering information. Surprisingly, the building is almost empty and Lydia senses Stiles easily, his presence like a beacon of warmth and light. Unfortunately, with him are two individuals – one a werewolf – the second reeks of harsh power which sends the word 'witch' bouncing around Lydia's brain.

It's not long until the witch leaves, leaving the werewolf behind, presumably to guard Stiles. Malia points out that it won't be long until the wolves outside either wake up or are found by others which prompts the two girls to hurry even faster down the corridor.

'Stiles,' Lydia breathes, tears pricking her eyes as she catches sight of him.

The room they're standing in is dark; only one high window provides any light. The cage Stiles is huddled in is huge but devoid of any furnishings. His head is buried in his arms, his hair is dishevelled and his arms are caked with dried blood. Lydia almost lets out a sob at the sight of him but instead turns her eyes – she's sure they're glowing purple by now – to the advancing werewolf. This girl is slight; and she looks younger than Lydia but there's a rage growing inside of the banshee that she's never felt before. It makes her want to tear this girl's head off with her newfound power and from the growls emitting from Malia she knows that her friend is in the same mind set.

They leap forward together, Lydia throwing the girl onto Malia's claws and the coyote swiping her back towards Lydia. They work well together and the girl is soon on the ground, clutching at her wounds. Lydia blasts the gate from Stiles' cage striding towards him and crouching next to him, eyes glowing purple. She touches his cheek to raise his head and the rush of emotion she has when she sees his face comes out as power and she physically watches the purple energy burst from her fingers and disappear into his skin. In the brief moment that their eyes meet, she registers the shock in his before he closes them and goes limp in her arms.

'Lydia, we have to go,' urges Malia.

'Help me,' the redhead all but whispers from the floor as she attempts to lift Stiles' weight. Malia rushes to his other side and uses her strength to help Lydia lift him. They make their way slowly to a different entrance than the one they used previously. Lydia knows that the banshee and the coyote both know what they're about to encounter but neither of them raise the issue. She blasts the door open; the final barrier between them and the woods.

There's a floodlight at this side of the building, its beam illuminates the woods. Six figures stand between the three of them and safety: five werewolves and a witch.

She hears Malia swear under her breath as she glances towards Lydia. It seems as though time is moving at half speed as the coyote shifts her weight to support Stiles to the ground and flicks her claws out, growling ferociously.

It's as Lydia slumps to the ground underneath Stiles' weight that she feels something wash over her. It takes her a few prolonged moments to realise that it's power, unlike anything she's ever felt before. It's almost as if she knows what's going to happen before it does; as if she senses Stiles start to get up before he actually moves at all.

Then suddenly he is on his feet, his hand grasping hers to pull her with him. As they look on at the unfolding scene in front of them – the wolves are too busy growling at Malia to notice them and it's clear they think they've won – Stiles still stands slightly behind her. She feels his name forming on her lips but a burst of power from him silences everything, even the voices in her head. She feels the ground shake and the wind pick up and it's clear to her, despite her dazed state that his power draws on the elements. At this very moment he's lifting the very roots from the ground and using them to secure all six of their enemies.

It's Malia that thinks quickly and stops him from going too far, resting his arm back around her shoulders, and motioning a shell-shocked Lydia to do the same. Stiles slumps again then and it's all he can do to help them by placing one clumsy foot in front of the other. It's clear that his victims won't be moving anytime soon as the wood of the trees seems to be both holding them still and blocking their powers. Lydia gives one last glance to the witch, whose dirty hair hides a misleadingly pretty face. Lydia despises the look she's giving to Stiles, as if this was exactly as she desired all along.

'Lydia?' Stiles says with a surprisingly strong voice. Lydia makes a soothing noise in return; hardly able to stomach the distance back home herself, let alone carrying Stiles. It seems the burst of energy was temporary however as when he next speaks his voice is muffled and hard to understand.

'Lyd..,' he takes a breath and it seems to hurt him, 'have Al- Ali.'

'What are you saying Stiles?' Malia watches the colour drain from Lydia's cheeks as she takes in Stiles' words.

'Allison. They have her,' Stiles barely whispers, collapsing in their arms for the last time that night.