Derek Hale paced through the McCall house, waiting for Scott to arrive. He knew Scott would be torn over driving fast or driving legally, and he hoped Scott would make the better choice. With Stiles finally back from his self-imposed exile, they would finally figure out what had happened and why Stiles had driven away with those two men.

Melissa was watching him, Derek knew, worried every time he stalked through the kitchen, but she didn't try to stop him. Six years of observing the pack had clearly taught Melissa how to handle an uneasy werewolf.

Derek hesitated and listened, sure enough the smooth purr of Scott's Camry, underscored by the soft bass of his radio filled his ears. "Scott's here," he told Melissa.

"Thank God," Melissa muttered.

Derek strode to the front door and swung it open as Scott slid out. "Have you seen him?" Scott asked.

"Briefly," Derek replied. "He's not exactly open to unexpected visitors. He said to talk to his dad and arrange a visit."

"Okay," Scott said.

"Or we can wait a few weeks and stop by their pub," Derek offered as he watched Scott climb the stairs.

"Their pub?" Scott asked.

"Yeah, that job I was doing for the past four months? It was for Stiles and his two friends. I should have realized when the Sheriff hired me for it," Derek said as opened the door, mindful of the full bags of laundry Scott was carrying.

"What's it like?" Scott asked as he dropped the bags by the couch and headed for the kitchen.

"A brewpub," Derek said, "sort of a hunting lodge feel. They also have a very nice office set up upstairs, but I'm not sure what that'll use it for to be honest. It's a bit more elaborate that necessary for time cards and bookkeeping, even brought a guy in special to oversee it." Derek hadn't liked the guy called Cam, the man had been insultingly rude when questioned and unnecessarily sarcastic, but even Derek could admit that Cam knew his stuff and worked quickly to get his part done. In contrast, the men setting up the actual brewery had been loud, coarse, and knowledgeable about three things, their job, beer and women. Derek continued to doubt any of those men really knew the first thing about women judging by their lewd comments to the women on his crew.

"When Stiles wants us to know, he'll tell us," Scott said. "Hi mom."

"Hey honey," Melissa said, giving him a hug. "I've got lasagna ready to go in the oven in an hour. Isaac will be here for supper. Kira said she might come over too, but she'll call and confirm. Malia isn't back from her camping trip though; she's supposed to be back tomorrow, so no worries yet."

"Thank you," Scott said, kissing her cheek. "I don't know what I'd do without you here. You are the world's most incredible mom."

"Thanks honey," Melissa said. "I'll let you two get on with pack business then."

"Thanks," Scott said. He poured two cups of coffee, "He had people with him?"

"Two girls," Derek said, raising his voice to be heard over the noise of Scott digging creamer out of the fridge. "One of them was Korean American, her name was Marci. The other was African American and we weren't formally introduced. Her name is Karyna. They're both human, but," Derek hesitated.

"But what?" Scott asked as he handed Derek a mug.

"They can move almost silently," Derek said, "they both managed to sneak up on me at one point, and their smell is… unusual. Karyna's was less so than Marci. If I had to, I'd say that Marci smelled wet."

"Wet," Scott said, "but human. We'll just have to figure that one out as we go along. In the meantime, we need to figure out how to talk to Stiles."

"There's a rowan tree planted in the backyard, and whoever planted it did something because it acts like mountain ash. It's a barrier." Derek drank some of his coffee to hide his unease. He hadn't even known you could do that with a living tree until he'd careened off the wall and head first into a dumpster. There had been some interesting looks when Derek had followed the trio to their pub to hear the rest of their conversation.

Scott nodded, "What did Stiles say when you approached him?"

Derek sighed and repeated Stiles's comments as accurately as he could. He also told Scott what Karyna had said.

Scott drained his coffee with a frown. "Stiles left, we didn't throw him away. What the hell kind of stories is Stiles telling those people?" He put the mug in the sink, "I'm going to go talk to him."

"How?" Derek said, "He's probably put down mountain ash all over that house by now."

Scott's eyes flashed red, "That won't hold me."

"Scott!" Melissa snapped, "You aren't seriously planning to break into Stiles's house."

"Mom," Scott began.

"I raised you to be better than that," Melissa said. "Stiles even told you how to contact him. Call John and ask him to arrange the meeting."

Scott hesitated, "What if he doesn't want to see us?"

Melissa's features softened, "Stiles wouldn't have told Derek that if he didn't mean for you to contact him. Whatever Stiles feels went down, whatever he's been through since, he's given you an olive branch. You should take it instead of trying to steal the whole tree."

"Yes ma'am," Scott said. He glanced at Derek for a moment, "I'll ask Danny if we can use his apartment for neutral ground. Stiles never had a problem with Danny that I knew of, and Danny's Pack."

Derek didn't bother to hide his wince at the reminder. A young Alpha over at MIT had lost control during a campus visit day and bit several prospective students. Derek didn't know what had set the kid off, but Danny had been one of the victims. Danny accepted Scott as his Alpha, but Derek knew that they weren't close, not the way Scott had bonded to Isaac. Part of that might have been because Danny was going to school at UC Blue Bay Harbor and had another year to go, so was rarely in town, but Derek always thought there was something more to Danny's distance from the Pack.

"I'll call John," Melissa offered, "you talk to Danny."

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Lydia sighed as she peered through the rain, trying to see the road. The storm had been holding off all day, clearly just to make the final ten miles of her drive into Beacon Hills even worse than it normally was. She flicked her blinker on as a rest stop sign passed, hopefully there would be something hot to drink there, and she would see if the storm was going to slacken soon, if not stop.

Carefully, Lydia turned onto the paved driveway and rolled through the woods until there was a wide turning area. She stopped the car and slid out, pulling up the hood on her raincoat as she did so. Then she blinked. "Oh no," she murmured.

This was not a highway rest stop with bright lights and people. This was some historical marker in the middle of the preserve. Lydia stumbled forward, drawn by something she never full controlled, and hated. She passed the historical marker sign and then slipped through a cluster of pines.

It was almost as dark as night under the trees, and Lydia had to fumble to turn on her phone's flashlight app.

A pile of bodies lay before her, humans of various ages ripped to pieces violently.

Lydia stared for a moment, and then she screamed.

Surprise! Danny's a werewolf.

My dog once tried to jump through a window (there had once been a porch but they closed it in and left the window for air circulation). She'd previously managed to do so as the window had been open. Her utter shock that we had dared to close the window is about what I picture Derek experienced trying to get into Stiles's backyard. One moment, flying majestically into the air, then BANG! window glass/magical barrier.