Lydia tapped her foot impatiently. That was the only sign Stiles had that clued him in to her distress. All of her other body language pointed to being bored. He tried to put in music but she turned it off, preferring to sit in silence. He tried to talk but couldn't think of anything to say.

All in all, when they started bumping through the woods, it was a relief. Lydia was suddenly very alert. She scanned the darkened forest until her eyes landed on the Hale house. This was where Stiles stopped and killed the engine.

"How far is it?"

"Pretty far."

"Good thing I chose sensible footwear then…"

Stiles and Lydia began their trek through the woods. First, they went to the river. Stiles gripped the blue talisman around his neck, assuring himself that he wouldn't fail. The he began upward, this time keeping along the edge of the waters. Lydia held the flashlight and she kept close, watching for anything weird.

The hike was different than before. Firstly, the sun had set and that made everything about fifty times creepier. Secondly, there was no fog. And Stiles felt uneasy with that second one. Like it was luring them in by making it easier for them to pass through the woods.

Indeed the second trip seemed to go much faster. Stiles felt they were at the flat top of the hill in no time. He had to wait for Lydia, though, so she could wrap her mind around the fact that somehow it was springtime in this area and freezing cold at the same time.

"This…is impossible," she said after about five minutes. "You can't even accredit it to California's weird weather—this is just straight impossible. Those flowers don't bloom during this time, and I'm fairly certain those trees over there have been extinct for a long time." She turned around. "And this plateau is a geological anomaly. The river flows on flat land through Beacon Hills, and I'm fairly certain we didn't cross city lines in the last half hour."

"That's what I said," Stiles replied, squinting for the familiar tunnel of trees.

Lydia shook her head. "Look—let's just hurry up."

They continued along the river. And within minutes Lydia's flashlight caught sight of the tunnel of trees. "We're really close," Stiles said. "Come on." He started in a steady jog toward the tunnel. Lydia followed close behind. Soon they were inside and it felt like a cave. Lydia's flashlight wandered over the area and reflected over the waters.

Rounding the bend, Stiles spotted the stone walls first. "I think it's down there."

"You think?" Lydia hissed.

"I didn't get very far the first time." Stiles bit his lip, slowing his pace and treading carefully. But nothing happened to them and the walls loomed closer. It was brighter at the end—like it had lights. The closer they got to the end, the more Stiles felt anxious. He hadn't gotten this far before and he wondered why he was getting this far now.

The trees opened up and the river pooled inside a long oval of stone walls that were at least twice Stiles' height. At the top of these walls was the forest, growing so high that it blocked out most of the sky and he could only faintly see the twinkling of the stars between the branches.

Lydia held him back before he stepped any further. "Watch out."

She shined her light at the waters were just at the tips of his shoes. The ground stopped there all of the sudden and instead there were round, flat rocks like pegs in the river. They served as stepping stones up to a staggered cliff face that looked like a giant stairway up to the top of the walls.

Stiles licked his lips. "I guess—" He stopped mid sentence when he saw the first stepping stone burn a bright blue. "Holy shit."

"Are you sure your boyfriend is here," Lydia said.

"I have no fucking clue, but I'm pretty sure this place is the place I'm looking for. And he's not my boyfriend."

"Yet." Lydia tacked on with a reserved smirk.

Stiles wanted to argue with that but Lydia stepped past him and onto the first stone. "Are you going to come or what?" Stiles hastened to follow.

"He's not my boyfriend," Stiles muttered.

The next stone lit up. They jumped across. "Are you going to give him the kiss of his life when you see him?" she asked as the next stone lit and they jumped again. "Because if you aren't, that'd be a total waste of this rescue mission."

They jumped again. "You know I don't know—"

"Oh please," Lydia said, "I know you're thinking about it. Just take a goddamn chance." The next stone Lydia had to catch Stiles' hand so he wouldn't stumble into the water. "If he likes you, then it won't be a problem. If he doesn't, then you can move on right?"

Stiles bit his lip. With his track record, he'd pine after Derek for like ever and never ever move on. So if he did take a chance, it might hurt like a bitch if Derek rejected him. He didn't know if he could take that since he was only just beginning to move on from Lydia. And even now he still thought of her as the most perfect girl in the whole of creation. Worse, what if Derek didn't reject him? Yeah it might hurt to be rejected, but he knew rejection—it was like a default state for any of his crushes. But what if Derek didn't reject him? That thought was scarier. Yeah, he thought about him in many a sexual context (even jacked off more than once to the thought of banging Derek) but in real life, he had no goddamn clue what to do.

"Uh, yeah," Stiles agreed, voice strained as they jumped onto the last stone. They were faced with the giant, stone stairs now.

"Look, it's not like you're declaring your undying love for him—that's be way weird. You're just declaring your attraction. That's how it started with Jackson and me, you know. We just sort of liked each other, dated for awhile, and then fell in love. It's a process." They climbed up onto the first edge and started up. "I mean for gods sake, you should at least relieve the tension a little."

"What are you talking about?"

Lydia gave him a knowing look. "Seeing you two together, however briefly, is enough to realize that there is some serious tension there. The kind of 'will they or won't they' tension. So which is it? Are you?"

Stiles was uncomfortable. He fidgeted under her rigid stare.

"You better say yes."

And damn he couldn't deny her. "…Yes."

"Good."

"I thought you hated Derek," Stiles said as they continued up.

"I do. But I hate unresolved sexual tension even more." She grabbed his arm before they climbed up the last ridge. "Do you hear that?" she said, answering the question on his face.

"No?"

"Exactly."

She was right. Not even the grating songs of crickets could be heart. Stiles tried not to find this disturbing—and he failed miserably. His eye started twitching. He couldn't get nervous now. Not when Princess Derek was at stake. That kept him going. Waving ahead, they climbed the last ridge.

The shrine almost looked like how Deaton had described it. They entered upon a circular nest of trees knitted together so well he couldn't see past any of them. Inside this clearing was a large pool with dark waters. There was a stepping path similar to the one below that led to a tiny island in the center where a little wooden house stood over a stone basin. Around the pool was a lining of bright purple Wolfsbane and a fluffy green plant that Stiles could only assume was the absinthium.

It was also, somehow, more silent than before and it hurt their ears just to hear the harsh puffs of their own breaths scratching against it.

"So now you have to tell me what's going on." Lydia asked.

Stiles pulled the blue orb from his jacket pocket and tested its weight, glancing between Lydia and the little island.

"Long story short… there's a crazy ass demon thing making everyone prick their fingers on the spindle, and this thing in my hand is the equivalent of true love's kiss."

Lydia was unimpressed. "I get the Sleeping Beauty reference, but really?"

"It sounded much better in my head."

She scoffed. "Whatever. So this thing is going to wake everyone up? Explain to me this." She gestured to the arena.

"Even longer story short…the demon lives here—sort of. It's a little head aching to think about. But that thing over there is supposed to be like a seal to keep it out of our world. Except it's missing this." He lifted the sphere. "Which is actually the thing that is going to seal it back and make everything okay again."

Lydia nodded slowly. "You suck at explaining things. But I got the idea. So we just put it back and then…?"

"Just come on." He grabbed her hand and led her to the edge of the pool. She looked wary, and it showed on her face that she'd much rather be told the whole plan before proceeding, but she followed him anyway. "There's some magic words to say," Stiles answered once they were a couple of steps into the pool. The stones were smaller than they were before. "And I gotta sprinkle the magic dust. It's all very fantasy RPG."

Lydia rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. "You're such a loser." They crossed a few more stones and Lydia said, "Hey, what magic words do you have to say?"

"These ones." Stiles reached into his pocket and pulled out the paper Deaton had given him. He handed them over to Lydia.

She unfolded the paper and scrutinized the writing, letting Stiles lead her to the final stone. "It's Latin," she said, "but it's not like the other one. The creepy one." She frowned, stopping just before they jumped onto the grassy circle. "Just wait." Her brows constricted and her frown deepened. "Let me see that other one."

Stiles felt a wave of impatience, but he humored her. "Lydia, we don't have all night."

"Just hold on." She unfolded the other paper, the one from the mystery machine, and she put them side-by-side, comparing the two. She didn't look happy.

"What? What is it?" Stiles let his curiosity get the better of his impatience.

"That van… You said it belonged to the second guy found down the river, right? So I'm going to assume that he took that blue thing from the seal, right?"

"Well I think it was his father, the first victim."

She nodded shortly. "In any case, they were dumb enough to remove it—which is why all this is happening, right?"

"Right…?"

"Except the guy had it in his car, which was in Beacon Hills, and he didn't live in Beacon Hills—"

"Well actually his mom said the cops took it—"

"No but when I found it there was a traffic violation on the windshield—from Beacon Hills. They must have just told her that they were impounding it. But it was in Beacon Hills the whole time."

"Okay? What's your point? He drove the car to the woods where he was killed. And it stayed here long enough to get a ticket."

"But he died after his father. Who, like you said, took this thing in the first place. So he had it with him when he came back to Beacon Hills. Why would he come back to Beacon Hills and into the forest where his father was killed?"

And then it clicked. "He was going to return it."

Lydia held the second paper up. "And he had this with it."

"And you lost me."

Lydia looked heavenward. "You really need to study this language."

"It's a dead language!"

"Whatever!" She heaved. "This one, the one Deaton gave you, is a Robert Frost poem translated into Latin."

"Robert Frost?"

Lydia looked horrified. "Do you pay attention at all in English? Never mind. I don't care. I also think there are a few random lines from the Kama Sutra used very…choicely for innuendo. But I won't repeat them. Basically, this is bullshit. Hilarious bullshit, if we weren't in so dire a situation, but bullshit nonetheless. "

"That can't be," Stiles said. "Are you sure you learned the right Latin?"

"This, on the other hand," she said, holding up the other paper and ignoring his comment, "is something entirely different. I may make Jackson watch The Notebook every chance I get, but sometimes I let him pick the movie. One time he picked The Exorcist. And this? This sounds just like the Rite of Exorcism. I mean there are some discrepancies—like it doesn't make use of Jesus or God but rather a God of light. Like Zeus or something. And it never says anything about Heaven of Hell, just a "prison". But it' damn similar. Like, I wouldn't be surprised if that guy just edited it from Wikipedia or something."

Stiles chewed his lip nervously. "So it's bullshit, too? We're doomed?" He couldn't, for the life of him, figure why Deaton would give him a fake spell, but it didn't matter because they were totally screwed.

"Oh it's all bullshit," a voice said behind them.

Startled, the two of them turned around.

"…Derek?"

A/N: Been busy this week so this was all I could write.

Thanks so much for all your welcome backs last week and your encouragement! Let me know any comments you guys have—I love them all! And if you have questions feel free to drop me a message!

-J