"Why am I wearing black?" Sheriff Stilinski asked loudly. "What are you, an idiot? I just came from a funeral. You know, people wear black at funerals."
"Oh my god, this was at my party," Lydia said in realization.
"No, I was there, this didn't happen," Scott countered, tilting his head in confusion. His eyes widened and he said, "Didn't you put wolfsbane petals in the punch?"
"Why would you put wolfsbane in the punch?" Kira asked.
"I was under the influence of something," Lydia vaguely remarked.
Scott added, "I remember hallucinating at that party. This must be what Stiles saw."
"It's you," the Sheriff said, looking at Stiles across the pool. "It's all you. You know, every day I saw her lying in that hospital, slowly dying, I thought 'how the hell am I supposed to raise this stupid kid all on my own?' This hyperactive little bastard who keeps ruining my life. It's all you. It's you, Stiles." He sneers his sons name in disgust. Pointing toward Stiles, still holding a bottle of liquor in his hand, he said, "You killed your mother. You hear me?"
Stiles took a sharp breath, his eyes never leaving the bottle of alcohol.
"You killed her, and now you're killing me."
He adjusted his grip on the bottle, and then threw it across the pool. Stiles ducked behind a pole, bringing his arm to cover his face, when suddenly the bottle disappeared. Looking around, he saw that his father had disappeared as well. He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to get over the shock,
Malia took a shaky breath and said, "We're getting closer. We should leave."
The pack warily walked through the empty parking lot as their footsteps echoed through the cavernous structure.
"Good luck getting a signal down here," Stiles' voice resonated. Scott turned toward his friends' voice and walked toward it. "Oh, wifi. And you're a mac guy. Does that go for all werewolves, or just a personal preference?"
Peter Hale, ignoring the teenagers rambling, said, "Turn it on. Get connected."
"Peter," Malia hissed, her eyes narrowing in disgust.
"Wait a second, is that my old laptop?" Scott said, walking closer toward the pair.
Stiles took a deep breath and said, "You know, you're really killing the whole werewolf mystique here. Look, you still need Scott's username and password, and I'm sorry, but I don't know them."
"No, you know both of them," Peter quipped, avoiding eye contact with the boy.
"No I don't," Stiles insisted.
"Even if I couldn't hear your heartbeat, I would still be able to tell that you're lying."
"Dude, I swear to god—"
Peter interrupted him by slamming his face against the car hood.
Scott let out a low growl at the action, clenching his fists in frustration.
"I can be very persuasive, Stiles. Don't make me persuade you."
Shaking off the tense ordeal, Stiles began typing. "What happens after you find Derek?"
Ignoring the boys question, Peter ordered, "Don't think, Stiles. Type."
"You're gonna kill people, aren't you?" Stiles said, anxiously hitting the keyboard.
"Only the responsible ones," Peter reassured.
"Look, if I do this," Stiles said, suddenly turning toward Peter. "You've gotta promise to leave Scott out of it."
Scott felt a sudden swell of appreciation at Stiles' loyalty.
Peter sighed and explained, "Do you know why wolves hunt in packs? It's because their favorite prey are too large to bring down at once. I need Derek and Scott. I need both of them."
"He's not gonna help you," Stiles said tersely.
"Oh, he will. Because it'll save Allison." Lydia sucked in a breath at the mention of her friend. "And you will because it will save Scott. Your best friend, whom you know so well you even have his username and password."
Peter squinted at the screen, and said incredulously, "His username is Allison? His password is also Allison."
"Still want him in your pack?" Stiles said sarcastically. Looking back to the screen, he said, "Wait what? That-that's where they're keeping him? His own house?"
"Not at it," Peter said in realization. "Under it. I know exactly where that is. And I'm not the only one." Looking around the parking lot in thought, he turned to Stiles and said, "Give me your keys."
Stiles sighed and fished through his pockets for the keys. "Be careful, she grinds in second."
Peter took the keys in his hand and crushed them. Stiles gently took them from him and looked at the werewolf in fear.
"So you're not gonna kill me?" Peter tilted his head and walked toward Stiles at his remark. "Oh god."
"Don't you understand yet? I'm not the bad guy here."
"You turn into a giant monster with red eyes and fangs. And you're not the bad guy here?"
"I like you Stiles. Since you've helped me, I'm going to give you something in return. Do you want the bite?"
Stiles looked at him in confusion. "What?"
"Do you want the bite," Peter repeated, annunciating the syllables. "If it doesn't kill you, and it could, you'll become like us."
"Like you?"
"Yes, a werewolf. Would you like me to draw you a picture? That first night in the woods, I took Scott because I needed a new pack. It could have easily been you. You'd be every bit as powerful as him. No more standing by his side, watching him become stronger and quicker. More popular. Watching him get the girl. You'd be equals - maybe more." Peter took Stiles wrist and held it close to his teeth.
"Yes or no?"
After a moment of hesitation, Stiles pulled his arm away and responded, "I don't wanna be like you."
"You wanna know what I just heard? Your heart beating slightly faster on the words 'I don't want'."
Scott and Lydia looked at each other in concern.
"You may believe that you're telling me the truth, but you are lying to yourself. Goodbye Stiles."
Opening their eyes to the new surroundings, the pack found themselves in the boys locker room. Seeing that no one was inside, they all looked around the room, confused.
Suddenly, Scott and Stiles burst through the door.
"Come on, here we go," Stiles said, leading a hyperventilating Scott into the locker room.
Stiles leaned against a nearby wall, attempting to calm his friend.
"Get away from me!" Scott yelled, causing Stiles to jump back.
Sensing his friend's attack, Stiles backed to the other side of the room. Scott jumped onto the lockers, looking around predatorily.
Stiles tried to navigate the room while simultaneously avoiding the werewolf's wrath.
"When was this?" Kira asked, confused by Scott's outburst.
"This was the week after I first got turned," Scott replied, guilt weighing his conscious.
Thinking quick on his feet, Stiles turned and grabbed a fire extinguisher. Shakily, he aimed it at Scott and turned it on. Stiles held the fire extinguisher to his chest and quickly went outside the door, breathing heavily.
"I think we've almost found him," present Scott announced.
"Why do you think that?" Liam asked.
"Just a feeling. Come on."