Hey guys! I hope you guys are doing well! My finals are over! *mini celebration* Hopefully I can update fairly regularly now! Super pumped.

Also, I will say: Kate has a plan. There's been a lot of little hints along the way, but she does have a plan and it all connects with what she's been saying and a certain five-month absence that Stiles doesn't feel like opening up about…

Chapter 6

Lonely Stars

Stiles' hands are trembling. He catches Kate's eye and he sees her walking over to him. He places a hand on the door, where he hears Nathan's sharp intakes of breath and shuffles around a bit. "Bud, you gotta be as quiet as you possibly can," Stiles says softly, making sure he puts himself in front of the door. Even though there's no reason, he feels the twinge of his ribs as Kate moves closer to him. It's like they're telling him he's in no position to win a fight against the supernatural. "Has Scott responded?"

"He says he's on his way." Nathan whispers, his voice full of fear.

"It's okay," Stiles mutters, even though he doesn't quite believe it. "It's okay, just hang out in there and try and stay as quiet as possible."

"Well, well, well," Kate says as she approaches them, eyeing the door behind. "Who do we have here?"

"What are you talking about?" Stiles says with what he hopes is an impudent smirk. He has a feeling the fear is coming through his eyes, and he knows if anything, she can smell it. "I just am basking in my own severe loneliness. You know me and my distaste for other people."

Kate tilts her head condescendingly at him. "You've always been so cute when you lie. It's mainly because you've always been so terrible at it. Unless, of course, it's your father. You have a natural gift for lying and disappointing him."

Stiles clenches his jaw, but doesn't respond.

Kate steps closer, her eyes glinting with a maliciousness that he hasn't seen since he looked in a mirror during the Nogitsune possession. His chest tightens. "Oh, did I strike a nerve, you precious lamb?" She asks, close enough for Stiles to feel her hot breath on his neck and the flash of her eyes. His fists are clenched and he reaches behind himself where a knife is tucked in his pants pocket, but he knows that even with a blade this outcome isn't looking good. "Have you been having trouble sleeping? Because it looks like it."

"You seem like you have something you'd like to say, and I think it save an extraordinary amount of time if you would just say it." Stiles says, trying to seem strong for Nathan. He wonders if the small boy can hear the fear in his voice.

"All those people dead," she says, clicking her tongue. "And yet you still live. How does that feel, Stiles? I've always found that you have a particular knack for survival, even if it's at someone else's expense. How does the world feel without Allison in it?"

Stiles' pulse quickens.

"Is it a little less colorful, lamb? Does Scott look at you the same? Lydia?"

Stiles can feel his chest tighten. The corners of his eyes are starting to darken and he can feel the panic rising in his chest. His shaking grows.

"How could they? How could they look in the face of you and not see all the death you caused?"

"Why are you here?" Stiles snaps before he can stop himself.

Kate opens her mouth to retort, but someone beats her to it. "I think that's an excellent question. Why are you here?"

Stiles can't remember the last time he was so thrilled to see Scott. Sure, he always was happy to see his best friend. Because he's on a brink of a panic attack – he knows it and he's sure that Kate knows it as well – and there's no way he could protect Nathan if he couldn't breathe.

Kate takes a step closer to Stiles, her eyes running up and down his frame. "Just saying hello to one of my favorite niece-murderers. The Lamonts say hello as well." She says reaching out and stroking Stiles' arm. Stiles' is frozen in his spot, just the thought of Allison's empty eyes lulling him into a panic. But not just that. The name. The name strikes fear in him in a way he hasn't felt in a while. Kate continues to stroke his arm until she squeezes his bicep, her claws coming out and pricking his skin.

"Let go of him." Scott says dangerously. His eyes flash a deep red, but it merely causes Kate to laugh.

"You tried that trick before, my dear. When you thought that you could reason with me a while ago. Flash your little red alpha eyes because you thought, since Peter killed me, I'd be obligated to bow to your Alpha-ness?"

Scott takes a move closer and mutters, "Get. Out."

Kate lets go of Stiles' arm, pin pricks of blood seeping through the fabric of his shirt. He flinches, taking the breath he'd been holding. "I was just leaving dear. I wouldn't want your little friend behind Door #1 to freak out anymore."

Scott tenses as she brushes past him, throwing one last look at Stiles. "I'm certain we'll be meeting again, my little Lamb."

Scott and Stiles watch her as she leaves, not saying anything. Scott turns to him and Stiles can tell he wants to say something, but they're drawn out of their stupor by a faint crying.

With wide eyes, Stiles rushes over to the dressing room. He knocks on it furiously. "Bud, let me in. It's okay now. It's okay."

It takes a few minutes, but the door slowly opens, revealing a tear streaked Nathan. Stiles hesitates for a moment, before wrapping him into a tight hug. Nathan grabs his arms, sobs breaking the awkward silence as he clutches Stiles, who merely holds onto him, his eyes squeezed shut.

Scott looks on.

He doesn't think he ever understood.

But watching the two of them clutching each other, desperate to never let go, he's beginning to. Nathan looks so broken and weak – it takes Scott a moment that while Stiles had described him, he never saw the boy. He looked like the only reason he was together was due to Stiles arms around him, that he so desperately clung to.

Stiles himself had his eyes squeezed shut, his brow furrowed tightly. Scott knows what he's seeing. What he's trying to extract from his memory. He knows because he does the exact same thing.

Allison.

XXX

"This is not a negotiation!"

Stiles is shouting. Like, really loud.

Scott rubs his temples, casting a glance at the Sheriff, who looks positively stricken. Stiles hasn't lost it like this in a while. Since before he moved. But now? Now he's shouting and his words are echoing in the small Stilinski house. Lydia, Kira, and Isaac are (wisely) out of the way while Derek stands close to Scott, clearly wanting to do something, but not sure what. The one thing he has achieved so far is pissing Stiles off by recommending that he change shirts since he came home sporting a few blood streaks, which only set him off more.

Nathan's being held by his mother, but he's not crying anymore. If anything, he's glaring at Stiles angrily. Stiles doesn't seem to notice or care.

"You two need to leave!" He's shouting for what feels like the millionth time. "This isn't like anything you've seen before – trust me, I've seen some things and it always is worse. It is always worse! And just when you think that can't get any worse – when you are surrounded in a world that werewolves, then comes a group of psychotic hunters, and then when you finish with the psychotic hunters, there is a Kanima, and when you're finished with the Kanima—" Stiles voice is breaking and going louder and everyone can hear all the pain and strife and suffering that's wrecking his body and for who knows how long. "There was an Alpha Pack and a Darach, and when the Alpha Pack and Darach were finished, there was a Nogitsune!" He screams out the last part, slamming his fist against the wall so the pictures rattle.

He sucks in a deep breath.

"And when you think that a Nogitsune is it," his voice is small, breaking and squeaking in the room. Scott doesn't think he's ever heard his best friend's voice like this. So… defeated. "That it's everything you have to deal with, you're sent away. And you think things could get better. Maybe they'll get better…

"You return from a hellish five months of running for your life only to return to find some psychopathic were-creature returned from the dead who's only desire is ruin everyone's lives!"

"Stiles, calm down."

Lydia's voice is small, but she speaks it loud enough to be heard over the heavy breathing.

Stiles whips his head, looking like he wants to round on her, but as soon as she catches his gaze, his open mouth – prepared to shout once more – closes. He huffs. "It's too… dangerous. You can't stay here."

"Don't I get a say in anything?" Nathan squeaks, pulling out of his mother's embrace, his eyes wild with frustration. "Don't I ever get a say in anything? I want to stay here!"

"Did you not hear me the past five minutes?" Stiles shouts.

"I doubt there's no one in a five mile radius who didn't hear you, Stiles," Isaac mutters, but Scott can tell that he's positively stricken.

"Shut it, Isaac!" Stiles snaps. "Don't you get it? If you stay here, you will die."

"Does it look like I care at this point?" Nathan shouts.

Everyone winces at that. It's just too… similar. Everyone's staring at Nathan like he's the most tragic being on the planet. No, that's not entirely right. Everyone's looking at him like he's Stiles.

Stiles grimaces at Nathan's words.

"No one ever asks me what I want to do!" The small boy shouts. "I was possessed by a freaking demon and he controlled me. I never got a say in anything and he made me do all sorts of horrible things. And now I get to see all those horrible things all the time. And then my mom forces me on this worldwide travelling experience where we get to find all these dead people. All these people who died.

"And now you," Nathan spits. "You're telling me that I have to leave? Without asking me?"

"Don't you get it, Nathan?" Stiles shouts. "If you die, I will go out of my freaking mind!"

Everyone holds their breath.

"You didn't deserve this," Stiles says, shaking his head. "You don't deserve any of this. You didn't deserve to be possessed and do all the horrible things it made you do. You didn't deserve to do that. And most of all, you don't deserve to die!" He screams.

"And you did, kid?" The Sheriff was done remaining silent. His eyes are full of rage and Scott takes a step back. He's seen the Sheriff this angry and he knows what's coming. "You deserved everything?"

"I certainly do more than he does!" Stiles exclaims. "I'm the one who dragged Scott into the woods that night, I'm the one who started all of this! We would be leading normal lives if it weren't for me!"

"Stiles?" Scott asks hesitantly. He'd never heard this out of his best friend's mouth. He didn't know. He didn't know the guilt. "That's not your fault."

Stiles winces, shaking his head.

"He's right, you know," Derek says softly. "Peter would've found a way. And if it wasn't Scott, it probably would've been so much worse. It's been my experience that not all teenagers who turn have his knack for self-control." He finishes quietly, his eyes distant.

Scott isn't sure, but he thinks Derek just complimented him.

But Stiles isn't listening. "You'll die, you get that, right? You'll die if you stay here. Kate saw you and she's worse. Everything always gets worse."

"Baby, maybe he's right," Nathan's mom hisses in his ear. "We can figure something else out. Maybe we should leave while they figure out what to do about this woman. Then we can come back, huh? We can come back to Stiles."

"No!" Nathan yells. "We're a team! Stiles and I are a team! We're the worst people on the planet – he said so!"

Stiles makes a noise that sounds like something in between a whimper and a scream.

"And if we're the worst people in the world, then we can handle whatever is 'worse.' Stiles, we're a team now." Nathan announces. "We're a team."

XXX

Nathan and Stiles are asleep on the couch.

Scott takes one last peek at them.

Stiles looks uncomfortable, but he has his arms wrapped the kid. Nathan's face is relaxed – enough for his mom to say she hasn't seen him like this since before the possession. The only person not looking at the sight as if it was a miracle is the Sheriff, who's off in the corner muttering to himself. Scott can only make out the distinct words of 'not right' and 'end poorly.'

A small part of him agrees.

"So we need to figure out what she wants. Like, what she really wants, not Stiles lame filtered version." Isaac says. "He's leaving stuff out and you all know it. Did she say anything in the mall? Anything you heard?"

Scott shakes his head. "She was mainly taunting him about Allison. Just… taunting." The words are painful to get out, just like her name is painful to say. Isaac winces at it. "What we need is to figure out what happened those five months he was gone. Usually, I'm very against going behind my best friend's back, but at this point I don't think there's another choice. There's too much at risk. There's too much to lose with Stiles like he is and a freaking ten-year-old refusing to leave his side. Deaton,"

The vet's attention is caught, but he'd been standing relatively stoically in the corner of the room. "Yes Scott?"

"We need to research whatever clinic you sent him to in order to understand what he went through. What's it called?"

"Haven." Deaton responded. "It's in Canada, past Ontario. But Scott, I swear, it has a terrific reputation for helping those who've gone through traumatic experiences with the supernatural. I have seen—"

"Wait, The Haven?" Derek says suddenly, his eyes flashing an electric blue for a mere moment. "Are you serious?"

Everyone stares at him, the air seemingly sucking out from the room. Derek's visage changed so quickly that no one knows what to do with him. Scott can tell he's trying to keep himself from wolfing out – probably would terrify Nathan's mother – and he takes a few moments to control himself.

"Why in the hell would you send him there?" He finally manages, spitting out the words.

"What are you talking about, Derek? The Haven has been one of the frontrunners of supernatural therapy for years!"

"Except for the past five!" He shouts, looking like he's about to slam his fist on the table, but he catches the sight of Nathan and Stiles sleeping in the other room and controls himself. "That center was purchased by the Lamonts shortly before my family was murdered."

Scott's attention, which he didn't think could increase, is now buzzing. Lamonts. The name sounds so vaguely familiar.

Deaton, however, huffs. "I would've known if the Lamonts purchased Haven and I certainly wouldn't have sent Stiles there if I thought that was the case."

"Wait," Scott says, putting his hand up before Derek can snap a retort. "Lamonts, I've heard of them before. Who are they?"

Deaton looks puzzled. "Where have you heard of that name before?" Scott shrugs, his brows furrowed in frustration as he tries to pinpoint the source of the name. "The Lamonts are a group of hunters that are very active in the northern regions of Canada. They are of a… particularly strict code. They believe that not only should the supernatural be stopped, but all supernatural lines should be eliminated. Regardless of their actions."

Scott stares. "Basically they're a group of Kate Argents," Derek snaps, his eyes flashing once more. "Unlike the Argents who pretended they had a code for a while, they kill regardless. Their hatred for the supernatural runs in their years of lineage. My mother once spoke of them and their cruel methods. She said they weren't our fight, but human's fight. They wouldn't listen to a werewolf."

"They have also been condemned by most Hunters in the world – the Argents included." Deaton says before Derek's anger could grow too much. "Their tactics are beyond deplorable."

"I'm telling you, Deaton, they have infiltrated Haven. What better way to train a bunch of new recruits than a whole mansion filled with traumatized teenagers who've been wronged by the supernatural?" Derek seethes.

"If that's the case, why wouldn't anyone have informed me?" Deaton says, an edge to his voice.

Derek looks at him like he's an idiot. "Oh, I don't know… maybe so you keep sending broken teenagers to them?"

"You two need to shut up, unless it's to inform the rest of us what this means!" Lydia snaps, tilting her chin up and taking charge. "Let's say the Lamont have infiltrated Haven and they have had Stiles. What does that mean for him?"

"It means," Derek says through gritted teeth. "They spent however long he was there, trying to convince him to be a part of their cause. And knowing Stiles and his knack for mouthing off added with his undying sympathy for werewolves, things must not have gone very well for him."

Scott sucks in a breath. "He – he did say, when he woke up from that nightmare in the hospital, something about never joining a cause or doing what someone said." He mutters, his mind travelling back to the frantic nature of his friend that night. "Derek, I need you to specifically tell me what might of happened to him. We need to know what we're up against."

Derek looks at Scott. There's a gentle timidness in his eyes that Scott rarely sees. A hesitation. Pity. But he sighs and speaks. "Scott, I need you to know that Stiles is a special case. I have been a werewolf my entire life and I have never met someone who instantly sided with us. Even when Allison found out what you were, she needed a little time – don't you remember. And your mom? Remember how she didn't speak to you for some time?"

Scott remembers. He remembers the fear and disgust in their eyes. He bows his head.

"But, unless I remember it incorrectly or missed something, Stiles never did such. He never pulled away. Do you know how rare that is with our kind?" Derek says softly. "Now, I know the past months have been a challenge, but if Stiles' past actions are of any indication, he'd never agree to the harsh code the Lamonts live by. And I know exactly how they deal with people who reject their code."

Derek's eyes are soft around the edges. "If Stiles was in The Haven and they were in control of it, it would've been hell. They would've tried to break him. Tried to turn him against the supernatural. Tried to convince him to murder you. Me. Isaac – even Lydia. And then punish him for refusing to do so. The fact that he's hear and trying to protect all of us is proof enough that their methods of persuasion did not work."

Scott feels sick. He wavers slightly, enough for Lydia to edge toward his side and grabs his arm. He leans into her slightly, just her presence making him feel a little better.

"That's assuming," Deaton urges. "That the Lamonts have taken over Haven. Which there is no evidence of them doing so."

"Besides me tell you that it is true?" Derek almost shouts. "And if they're working with Kate Argent, it's even worse, to quote a certain teenager. If it's us against the Lamonts and Kate Argent, it's going to be a massacre."

Scott's head is buzzing. It feels like there's just too much information to fit into his small head. Everything is too much – being a True Alpha is too much. We're just a bunch of teenagers. Allison's words haunt him because of their truth. And because of her absence.

"Wait," Scott says, snapping out of his reverie. "I know where I've heard the name Lamont before."

"Where?" Derek snaps.

"Kate Argent," Scott breathes, casting a glance back at his best friend. "When she was talking to Stiles."

Everyone turns to Deaton.

For the first time, Scott's jaw drops.

Deaton was wrong.

XXX

Stiles finds himself in front of Eichen House again. He wraps his fingers around the cast iron bars, bringing his forehead against the cool metal. "Just go in, Stiles," he mutters to himself. "Just go in and you'll be fine. You'll be just fine. Just do it."

"I used to do that with my house,"

Stiles whirls around, drawing a pistol from his pocket and pointing at the movement in the shadows. "Who's there?" He exclaims, trying to maintain his composure.

Derek steps out of the shadows, his hands raised. "Calm down, it's just me." He says, slowly making his way toward him.

Stiles groans, holstering his gun. "Dude, are you following me?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me 'dude.'" Derek snaps, approaching the cast iron gate of Eichen House.

"How many times do I have to tell you to use your words and not be such a creepy stalker?" Stiles retorts, his heart pounding furiously. "And you never answered my question. Have you been following me?"

"Yes."

Such a simple response for such a creepy question. "How long?"

"All day."

He says as if it's the most normal and obvious thing in the world.

"Why?" Stiles cries.

"Because I know what you went through in the past five months. I know about the Lamonts."

Stiles freezes. "H-How?"

Derek looks at Stiles pitifully. He hates that. "Deaton told me which clinic he sent you to. I've heard of what they've been doing to the place."

Stiles returns his attention to the gate, no longer seeing Eichen House. "Did you tell everyone?"

"Just the basics. Not of their tactics." Derek says calmly and Stiles visibly calms down. "I've only heard rumors. Rumors that I wish to be false."

"They're not." Stiles says barely above a whisper.

Derek figures as much, but he tries to keep his face neutral. "I'm sorry for that."

Stiles doesn't answer.

Derek doesn't say anything for a while, but watches his distant eyes scan the institution. "I was merely saying that I would go to my family's house. I told myself if I could enter it without panicking, it meant I was getting better. I used to wake up from panic attacks outside of it."

Stiles still remains silent, which makes the air thick with tension.

But Derek continues on, can't help but feel incredibly uncomfortable with the role reversal. "It's not weak to accept help from others, especially with things as difficult as these." He says. "I didn't go back into the house until I met you and Scott. Sometimes just knowing someone's there helps."

"I don't want to burden anyone," Stiles replies softly. "I've done enough."

"So you think, but it's startling how different people's views of you are sometimes," Derek says wisely. "You should talk to someone about it, you know. What happened. In The Haven. Someone you trust."

Stiles' jaw clenches.

"It doesn't have to be me. It doesn't even have to be Scott. But you should tell someone. Otherwise," Derek sighs. "The pain will eat you alive. And that's how people perish."

Derek claps a hand on his shoulder. "Not tonight, Stiles. But you'll be able to enter this place.

"Someday."

A/N: We're beginning to pick up the pace now! What is the connection between Kate Argent and Lamonts? And what exactly is her plan? And who will Stiles talk to?

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