With Peter close on his heels, Stiles rushed through the opera house's backstage.

„What are you looking for?", Peter asked him breathlessly.

„My partner."

They turned around a corner and came to a sudden halt when two security guards were thrown into their direction.

„This is it."

„I'll be there, alright?", the radio host said and pointed over to the far end of the hall, but Stiles grabbed him by his shoulder and pulled him along.

„Let's go!"

A group of armed guards was standing outside of the security control room. Allison was with them, her back pressed against the wall next to the entry while bullets kept flying through the open door and smashed into the opposite wall. The chief of security stood close, starring at the woman in awe and wincing when another volley was fired. She was about to reload her weapon with more wolfsbane bullets, when Stiles came to stand next to her.

„How many of them are out there?", he asked his partner quickly.

„Seven on the left, five on the right", she answered in a controlled voice, then dashed infront of the door, pulling the trigger on her gun repeatedly before she took cover again.

„Four on the right, two on the left."

„We need to find their alpha", Stiles declared. „The werewolves wouldn't fight without their alpha."

He peeked past Allison and saw a big werewolf raising in the middle of the group. He remembered the man as one of the four alphas that had visited his flat. The werewolf was holding his sharp claws close to the throat of a desperate looking Scott and Stiles coursed loudly before turning to Allison.

„You brought Scott?!"

„You brought a civilian into this, too!"

„Derek's not a civilian, he's part of the mission."

„Yeah, and Scott is the true alpha who knows all about the stones and the nemeton!"

Stiles kept his answer to himself. Scott may be the true alpha and some kind of werewolf ghandi, but he was still Stiles' awkward and gullible best friend. He wasn't really made for this kind of business.

„One more shot and we start killing hostages!", shouted the alpha with a roaring voice.

„That's the leader", Stiles told Allison.

„Send someone to negotiate", came the deep voice from within the security room.

Stiles and Allison turned expectantly towards the chief of security.

The man sweated nervously and started to stutter.

„I- I- I've never negotiated."

„You mind if Agent Argent tries?", Stiles asked, not really waiting for an answer and giving Allison a hand sign. She gave him a small nod in return.

„No, no! No, sure! We're sending somebody in to negotiate!", he shouted back to the werewolves.

With a confident strut, Allison walked inside the room, yanked up her gun and shot a wolfsbane bullet right between the alpha's eyes, who droped heavily down onto the ground.

Scott winced at the bang and gaped at Allison who still pointed the gun in his direction and looked around the room at the few werewolves left.

„Anybody else want to negotiate?"

The chief of security turned to Stiles with wide eyes.

„Where did she learn to negotiate like that?"

„Her father."

The last werewolves were arrested by the security guards and finally police and paramedics arrived at the opera house. The people gathered in the voyer, getting medical aid or searching for their loved ones.

Stiles and Allison took a step back as Peter's assistants came running towards him, beside themselves with worry.

As they brought a paramedic to look him over, he began to talk into his mike again, continuing with is radio show, and Stiles was impressed with so much professionalism. Or was it narcissism that kept him talking to his listeners about himself?

„Ladies and gentleman", he spoke with his exaggerated radio voice, while an assistant patched up the scratches on his hand.

„This is Peter Hale, still alive- Ouch!", he yelled as a burnging antispetic was spread over his skin. „What's wrong with you?" He smacked the man on his head. „It hurts!"

After making sure that Allison was unscathed, Scott came towards Stiles.

„Stiles, I realize that you must be pretty mad at me, but I want you to know that I am fighting for a noble course", he told his friend earnestly.

„Yes, I know. You're trying to save the world", Stiles answered exhausted but paused when close to them the police officer's walkie-talkie made a static noise and the voice of the operations management came through.

„Shooting in the Ritz-Carlton hotel. Send patrol cars and an ambulance."

The officer grasped the communication device off his belt with annoyance.

„Are you serious?! We have all our hands full at the opera!"

Nonetheless, he waved a group of officers over and rushed with them outside.

„I remember", Stiled continued to tell Scott as he darted after the police. „Right now, I'm just trying to save Derek."

Scott waved Allison over to follow them and then fell into step next to Stiles.

„He's in trouble?"

Stiles snorted.

„When is Derek not in trouble?"

„I have my car parked right behind the opera house", Allison said and led the way outside to her black SUV.

Allison sat behind the wheel and Sott took the place next to her. Stiles jumped into the back of the car, halting to close the door when Peter Hale suddenly climbed into the backseat right after him.

„What are you doing here?", he asked incredulously.

„Today's show is about the Cheerios' contest winner and I'm not gonna leave your side!"

With his determined stare fixated on Stiles, he pulled the car's door close and yelled over the seats at Allison.

„Drive!"

Allison stepped on the gas and with squeaking tires she peeled away from the kerbstone and sped down the road. Stiles perched anxiously on the backseat and prayed that they would be fast enough to come to Derek's rescue. He knew that he was a grown man, a werewolf on top of that, who could easily watch out for himself, but beneath his broad shoulders and the broody eyebrows, the dude was too innocent and sweet for this world. Stiles wanted to wrap him protectively into his arms and never ever let him go.

He was wrenched out of his thoughts when Allison stomped down onto the break and sweared loudly. They had droven right into a traffic jam and other cars were already driving up behind them, cutting off their way back. Allison honked impatiently, but as to be expected, no one moved aside.

„Fuck this", Stiles muttered under his breath and threw the door open.

The other three yelled at him as he leaped out of the car, but he paid no attention to their objections. Without halting, he started to run down the street between the row of cars. It was only half a mile more to the hotel, he could be at Derek's side within five minutes. His lungs began to burn as he pushed forward, but he didn't slow down. Derek needed him.