It was the loud, shrill ring of her phone that served as Allison's rude awakening. Of course, she probably shouldn't have fallen asleep face-first in her homework. She bolted upright and haphazardly shoved around her books and bed-sheets until she managed to find her phone. The screen was brighter than her tired eyes preferred, but she still made out the name on display.

"…Stiles?" she asked after putting the phone to her ear.

"Hey… so… I need a favor."

Allison's brows furrowed in confusion. Stiles rarely called her these days and it was usually because something horrible was happening. "Um… Okay. Yeah. What's up?"

"Scott's ignoring my calls."

The brunette rolled her eyes and didn't bother masking the large sigh that followed. "Seriously, Stiles?"

"Look, I think something weird is happening here and I just wanted to talk to him! You know, besties and all… I was hoping you could tell hi-"

"Stiles, I'm not going to call him," she stated matter-of-factly. Stiles sighed into the receiver.

"Could you guys pretend that there's NOT a crap-ton of sexual tension between the two of you for five seconds and just help me out here?"

Allison felt her face heat up. "Stop being such a girl, Stiles!" And with that, she hung up and tossed her phone to the edge of her bed.

It wasn't long before the blush in her cheeks turned from anger to embarrassment; it was she what was being a girl… Allison pulled up her knees and tucked them under her chin. Despite how much she wanted to move on and put Scott McCall as far from her mind as possible, she still felt a whirlwind of emotions regarding the werewolf. And now, with the way Isaac had been looking at her and the butterflies he started a-fluttering in her stomach… It was turning into a bigger and bigger mess and she just couldn't keep up.

Besides, it wasn't Stiles' fault that she and Scott had their hormones all twisted up this tangled knot of… well… sexual tension.

The young hunter suddenly felt the need to prove to herself that she could do this, that she could have a civil conversation with Scott over the phone and not have it be laden with awkwardness. Besides, it wasn't like she was face to face with the werewolf… And it was for Stiles as much as it was for her. So, she reached for her phone and dialed Scott's number.

It rang only once before he answered. "Allison?"

"Stop ignoring Stiles' phone calls," she stated simply.

There was a pause before Scott replied. "He… seriously called you and told you to tell me this."

Allison couldn't stop the tiny smile that formed on her lips. "It's Stiles… Once he gets an idea in his head…"

Scott chuckled. "Okay, yeah, you're right…"

After a second of silence, Allison spoke up, refusing to let an awkward pause form. "Why are you ignoring his calls, anyways?"

"Well…" Scott sighed before continuing. "I suppose I just wanted him to focus on himself and his dad, y'know? Since it's probably tough on the both of them."

Allison smiled and shook her head, despite Scott not being able to see her. "Just call him back, okay? I don't have time to play messenger for the two of you… not with all of this world history homework…"

"Ugh, I hear you… I keep trying to get through Thucydides', but it's so dry…"

"I know!" Allison exclaimed in agreement. "I don't get the whole connection to the rest of our lesson… other than the whole moral selection and mercy kill in war… thing."

"Wait… how far have you made it into the reading!?"

"Well, you know when…"

Allison carried on, explaining as best as she could the selected reading. Scott listened intently. For a night, they both forgot that they were at odds. They also happened to forget all about Stiles.

"C'mon, for cryin' out loud," Stiles growled as he called Scott for the hundredth time. At this point, he was losing hope that he'd ever get through to his friend… which is why he nearly jumped out of his skin when the werewolf's voice came through the receiver. "Jesus, what the hell took you so long!?"

"I'm sorry!" Scott replied earnestly. "Allison gave me a call and we just got kind of carried away and I forgot call you… By the way, do you have any idea what time is? And how much homework I have to do?"

"This is more important," Stiles replied. "I think something seriously messed up is going on around here."

"Stiles…"

"I'm serious!" he exclaimed. "Dude, I wouldn't have called you if I wasn't."

There was a long paused on the other end of the line.

"…okay, maybe. But you're missing the point!" Stiles stood and began pacing the motel room. It was dimly lit by a single lamp and he was alone; Sherriff Stilinski had offered to stay a little bit later at his sister-in-laws while everyone else helped calm Maggie down. Stiles was more than willing to wait at the motel.

"So..? What's so serious that you called me over ten times?"

Suddenly, Stiles felt rather indignant. "Y'know, I could have been suffering from a mental breakdown."

"I might have jumped to that conclusion if you hadn't called me."

"…touché."

"So, this scary issue?"

"Right," Stiles began. "So… As you know, my cousin died of a mysterious overdose… I already said that he wasn't really the type. The same goes for Maggie, his twin sister." He paused a moment to peek out of the window. "Well, I guess Maggie had been missing since he was found…"

"Yeah, okay… that sounds suspicious…"

"I hadn't even really thought about it until she showed up at the house, out of the blue. I dunno how anyone saw her because she practically dragged my hyperventilating ass out of a house full of people looking for her."

"Wait… you were… Were you having a panic attack?"

"It's not important," Stiles replied nonchalantly. "She basically just materialized out of nowhere and dragged me to some dark corner of the backyard and babbled cryptic nonsense at me."

Scott was quiet for a moment, obviously struggling with not asking Stiles about his panic attack, but eventually let it pass. "What did she say?"

Stiles plopped down on the edge of one of the creaky beds and ran a hand through his hair. "That's just it; it hardly made any sense. Scott, I know I haven't seen these people in… god knows how long… but I don't remember my cousin like this… She was like a walking skeleton, Scott. Like someone stretched her skin over some… crack head."

"That's a lovely image…"

"That's the point, it wasn't." Stile sighed in exasperation. "And it just got… weirder… She started to tell me about some… woman, I think? And she was going to show me something on her arm, but… Well, everyone freaked out when they saw her and rushed her inside."

"…you said your cousin-"

"Okay, I know I made the 'crack head' statement, but don't think it has anything to do with drugs. Remember? My powers of perception and the whole 'he's not the type' thing? Well, if he's not the…. wasn't the type, then Maggie is, like, the anti-type."

"What about what she was gonna show you? On her arm?"

There was a moment of silence as Stiles contemplated. "No," he finally replied, "no, it's not like that… it didn't look like… anything normal… Like I said, she was taken inside before I could tell what it was… But that's not the weirdest part."

"I'm listening…"

"She wants me to meet her outside the motel room tonight. At midnight. In the cold and dark. To 'explain everything'…"

"…and?"

The teenager's eye twitched. "Are you joking? That doesn't sound like a bad horror movie to you!? I swear to god, when she started talking about this mysterious 'she who likes skin and hair' and was pushing up her sleeve I half expected Alien to burst out and eat my face while Poltergeist children chanted 'they're heeeeere'…"

Scott's laughter sounded over the receiver. "You seriously don't think you're overreacting at all?"

"Look, I've gotten really good at running away from spooky things. I'm not exactly prepared to face a potential threat, here!"

"You don't know that, though. I mean, let's be realistic, Stiles. Isn't Beacon Hills, like… THE beacon? For supernatural things? Why would they be around over there? Tormenting your cousins? You said it yourself… they don't seem like they're involved in anything bad, but maybe they are… Maybe she's going to reach out to your for help. Hell, maybe this 'she' is just a metaphor or something for herself."

"Oh, right… because walking out into the cold, dark night, totally defenseless while my cousin has a psychotic break is soooo much better. 'Hi, Stiles. Thanks for meeting me. This is my drug-dealer-pimp-ex-con-baby-daddy-boyfriend. Help me leave him?'…yeah I'm sure I'll be fine."

Scott laughed again. "Stiles… I don't know what you want me to say… I can't really help you from here. Teleportation isn't exactly part of the werewolf power set."

Stiles sighed. "Yeah, I know… I guess I just… Needed someone to hear my last words before I get kidnapped by a crazy Armenian drug lord and sold into sex slavery… Will you be my Liam Neeson, Scott?"

"…if it ends this phone call so I can finish my homework, then yes. I'll be Liam Neeson."

The teen nodded to himself. "Okay. Good. My spirit can rest knowing that you care at least a little bit."

"Good night, Stiles. Let me know how it turns out."

Feeling only a little bit better, Stiles hung up the phone and resumed his earlier pacing. It was already almost midnight… He had no choice. Even if they were estranged, they were still family. And he couldn't shake the feeling that something bigger was amiss.

He threw on his red hoodie and stepped outside into the cold. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to sit on the curb for very long.

There was a quiet rustle to her right; a breath of sound on her left. Lydia Martin wasn't sure how she ended up in the middle of the street, surrounded by abandoned buildings on either side… but she didn't like it. These sorts of situations usually ended in her screaming like a lunatic. Or, in her case, like a banshee.

It took a single step on the cold, black pavement for her to realize that she was barefoot. Scratch that; one quick glance revealed to Lydia that she was completely naked. In the middle of the road. At night. In some god awful, deserted part of Beacon Hills' warehouse district. "Why me…" she whispered as she desperately tried to cover herself up. "Why does this always happen to me…"

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up. Lydia slowly raised her head to see a dark shape in the middle of the road, not more than thirty feet away from her.

"…He… hello?" she called out. Her voice was louder than she anticipated and jumped as it echoed off of the buildings surrounding her. "Umm…"

"You're afraid…?"

Lydia squeaked out a scream before throwing her hands over her mouth. She wasn't sure how it was possible, but it sounded like whoever the figure was had spoken directly in her head. Lydia didn't respond at first, just staring at the stranger with wide eyes.

"If you're afraid," the stranger said, his voice filtering into Lydia's head again, "you shouldn't be." He paused as the young woman slowly relaxed her posture. "I'm not going to hurt you."

After a moment, Lydia realized that this stranger was right. Even as he took slow steps towards her she felt not fear, but… familiarity. "Who…"

"You're prettier than I anticipated," the stranger spoke aloud this time. "Especially in this…" He stopped once he entered the light of the street lamp, only a few feet from Lydia now, "…state."

A dark blush erupted on Lydia's cheeks and she quickly went back to covering herself as best as she could. "W-what are you doing here!? What am I doing here!? Who are you and… and where are my clothes!?"

A small chuckle reverberated throughout the air around them; Lydia presumed it came from the stranger and narrowed her eyes at the man. At least, she believed he was a man. The voice she'd heard was masculine and so was the figure… tall, lean… He wore all black and his head was shrouded in a large hood that completely obscured his face.

"You must not worry about that now," he stated, taking a step closer. It was then that Lydia registered his strange accent. Slowly, he made his way forward and eventually disappeared behind her. "I just want to warn you."

"Wuh… warn me?" Lydia said as fear finally began to surface.

Suddenly, a pale hand reached from behind her ear to gently run slender fingers through a strand of her silky hair. "Yes… about the bodies."

"…Bodies? What bodies?"

Lydia felt a cold breath on her ear. "Don't worry… they'll start piling up very soon."

"NO!"

Lydia shot upright in bed, her eyes wide and her heart pounding. It took her a moment, but she eventually realized that it was nothing more than a dream… And yet… Her mind drifted back to the stranger and his warning.

"No… no more bodies…" she whispered to herself as she lay back down. "No more bodies…" She pulled the covers tighter around her.

"No… no bodies…"

The wind had finally died down, allowing Stiles' hands and feet a moment to thaw out. It was unexpected how cold the night was compared to earlier in the day. Stiles took a look at his watch: 12:18… Maggie was late.

"Waitin' on someone?"

"Woah!" Stiles exclaimed, whirling around to face the source of the voice.

"Oh, sorry!"

Stiles clutched his chest in an attempt to calm himself. "You scared me half… to…"

Finally laying eyes on the stranger, Stiles beheld a tall, curvy woman with fair skin and large blonde curls that trailed down to her waist. She smiled at him in embarrassment, her nose crinkling and her blue eyes shining in the night. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"No… no it's… okay…" He cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure. "Um…"

"I-" the blonde interrupted, taking a tentative step towards Stiles, "I hope I'm not, y'know… interrupting anything."

"No! No… I'm just…" He waved his hand ambiguously. "…waiting for someone."

The girl smiled again. "Oh, yeah, me too." She took a few quick steps towards Stiles. "Mind if I wait here with you? I, uh… I don't mean to sound like a total girl, but… it's dark… and…."

It was then that Stiles noticed she was wearing nothing more than a thin black dress beneath a simple jean jacket. She didn't even have shoes on. "Oh, yeah… Go for it…"

"Thanks," she replied as she took a seat next to Stiles. "My lone sentinel!"

Stiles blushed, but he tried to hide it by looking away. As much as his mind was trying to focus on Maggie and her steadily worrying absence, he couldn't help that his eyes were slightly more focused on the solitary beauty sitting next to him. "It's no… um, no trouble."

"May I ask who you're waiting for?" She leaned in close and for a moment, Stiles caught bit of her fragrance… something earthy, yet sweet. "Is it your true love?"

Stiles smirked and tried to focus his gaze into the darkness of the night. "No, just a friend. Family, actually… but I'm starting to think she won't show... How about you?"

"Well, I certainly thought I was… but I don't think she'll show, either…"

Stiles gave the woman a surprised look. "Sh… she?"

The blonde smirked at him. "Surprised?"

Stiles turned away and shook his head a little too vigorously. "No, no, I mean, what you like is your thing and if that's a girl that's fine I mean not that it pertains to me what I think or mean or yes. I'm a bit surprised."

The blonde laughed. "You're funny! I like that."

Stiles shrugged and checked his watch again in an attempt to ignore her sultry, southern accent. 12:23… It was too late to be dismissed. Something must've gone wrong.

"Y'know, I already told you," the stranger said, standing. "She won't show."

Stiles looked up the blonde. "…Huh? I thought…"

The girl began to twirl slowly. "Bastian was funny, too… I wonder if that runs in your family… just like that pretty, pale skin of yours." She glanced back, flashing red irises.

Stiles' eyes widened and he slowly stood up. "…what did you do to Maggie."

The blonde laughed. "Oh, don't you worry about her… I swear I didn't hurt her one lil' bit." She twirled around once more until she was facing Stiles. "I found a new love…"

Stiles blinked nervously, feeling the sweat forming on his forehead. "…I don't-"

"Oh, please," the blonde cooed. She sauntered over to the teen; Stiles remained frozen in place. "Poor little Maggie didn't realize that I could taste her betrayal."

Stiles' eyes widened. "Taste…" The blonde smiled wide and ran her tongue across several sharp teeth. He suddenly remembered the sliver of a wound his cousin was going to show him. "Taste…" he repeated. He looked up at the woman before him with renewed anger. "What did you do to them? To Maggie and Bastian? No… You… Did you kill…"

"Bastian killed himself," the blonde replied. She reached up to touch Stiles' face, but he quickly recoiled. "He was weak. So is Maggie… But you…" She eyed him almost invasively. "I can already see the energy within you."

"You stay away from me," Stiles growled, pointing a finger at this new enemy. He then remembered her sharp teeth and jerked back his hand protectively. "From me and my family… I know some pretty strong people, okay? Granted half of them are moody teenagers like myself, but I seriously doubt you can take them all on. And I also doubt they'll let you get away with this. I won't let you get away with this."

The blonde chuckled. "Sweet, little Stiles," she murmured. A shiver ran down the teen's spine; he never told her his name. "Why would I bother with your little… furry friends? All I want… is you." Stiles blinked in surprise and the woman giggled again and whispered, "I can smell the mangy mutts from here."

"B-but…"

"Shhh," the woman interrupted. "I can't waste any more time here… Besides, I imagine you'll have some matters to attend to soon… But, I can promise you two things." She began to back away from Stiles at that point; he couldn't help but loudly exhale a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "First: I will never harm a single hair on anyone's head ever again. Two: if you ever tell on me… I'll just go ahead an' break that first rule… and it won't end very well for you, your friends, and your already… incredibly depressing family."

Stiles clamped his mouth shut and stared daggers at the woman. She winked at him.

The sound of Stiles' cell phone ripping through the silence almost induced another heart attack in the poor teen. "JESUS!" he couldn't help but shout. He scrambled to grab his phone, but not before a quick glance upwards. The blonde was already gone. "Damnit!" His phone rang again. "OKAY ALREADY!" he shouted before answering. "Yes, hello!"

"Stiles…"

"…Dad?"

"Stiles, it's Maggie."

The teen's heart dropped. "What… what happened?"

"I… I don't really know," his father replied with a sigh. "She was resting in her room when she… I don't know, Stiles, she just started screaming and destroying her room… She almost attacked her mother… We called the police and she's been taken to the hospital for sedation and is being observed for a while there. Everyone here is-"

"We're leaving," Stiles stated. He looked off into the darkness of the night, still sensing he was being watched. "Immediately after the funeral." They had to get out of there as soon as possible.

"Stiles…? Are you alright?"

"I just… need to get out of here," he whispered. Again, the all too familiar tightening in his chest started to return. This entire situation had changed completely and it was suddenly overwhelming. He turned to go back inside the motel room, but his knees buckled and he collapsed onto the sidewalk.

"Stiles!? Stiles!"

The young man tried to prop himself up on his knees, but his labored breathing made it impossible. Somewhere out of reach he could hear his dad shouting through the receiver, but Stiles sank to the cold concrete.

"I just… need… to leave…" he whispered before slipping into unconsciousness.

A pair of bare, bloodstained feet danced in his vision for a split second… and then the void swallowed him.

"I'll see you again, my love… very… very soon."

Author's Note: Excited for the new episode tonight? I am! And sorry about this excruciatingly long chapter… I couldn't figure out where I wanted to end it and I just kept writing!