It's almost that time, lads… We're nearing the end of our adventure together…

OoooO

"Come out, you coward!" Scott shouted into the dark streets of the compound. His voice echoed all around him and his band of avengers – human, werewolf, and banshee alike. The listened intently for a response, but none followed. "I thought you said they were in here somewhere!?" the alpha whispered harshly. Derek appeared at his side.

"She's here," he replied. "Stop thinking about how much you want to tear her apart and listen… they're both here."

At that, everyone listened intently to the night. All they could hear were the distant sounds of cars and other ambient bits. However, after a moment… Scott picked up on something. It was like a static ring in the air. He wasn't sure if the others could hear it as well, but it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "You're right," he whispered. "Lydia, stay behind us… she's here."

"But of course I am!"

Everyone turned to the far side of the street where the Southern drawl had originated from. Stepping barefoot, out of the shadows, was Daliah. Behind her, Stiles also appeared; he stared at his friends with a mixture of rage and fear.

"Stiles," Scott said firmly. "We're only here to help… We can help you."

"It's too late for that," he whispered, but his voice carried unnaturally across the air. "You need to leave. Now. Please."

"It's too late for them, now," Daliah said with an amused tone in her voice. "Pet," she said, glancing back at Stiles, "…it's time."

At first, Stiles did nothing. He stared at Daliah a moment.

"Now," she growled, her voice dropping in pitch and tone.

Unable to stall any longer, Stiles clenched his eyes shut and walked forward a few steps. Everyone waited, muscles tense.

Stiles raised his arms from his side, palms facing upward.

His eyes flicked open.

They were pitch black.

Slowly, he began to rise off of the ground. It was an astonishing sight. Scott tried to call out to him, but the air was already starting to vortex around his friend.

"Fools," the maagrim growled just before launching herself with lightning speed at Scott. Thusly, the battle ensued.

"Get Stiles!" the alpha managed to shout before the maagrim collided with him. It sounded like two boulders crashing into each other. He disappeared into the side of a building with a loud smash; the Twins and Isaac jumped into the debris after them.

Derek, Peter, and Argent had managed to hear Scott's request and were nearly to Stiles. Derek just about reached out to grab him, too… when an invisible force sent the werewolf flying backwards. Argent skidded to a stop and ran to Derek's aid. The other Hale, however, hoped to use the small distraction to attack from the opposite side. He loosed a roar as he sailed through the air.

Faster even than Daliah, Stiles' hand raised and Peter froze in the air. He looked around in confusion and then panic, his arms and legs flailing desperately. Eventually, he met Stiles' darkened eyes – his own widened in fear. With a flick of his wrist, Stiles sent the werewolf flying through a large bay window. The sound of shattered glass resonated through the air.

Scott, the Twins, and Isaac were doing even worse than the Hale's and Argent. Several more painful-sounding noises came from within the building before Isaac came crashing through one of the windows. He coughed violently, blood spewing from his lips as he gingerly touched the glass shard embedded in his neck. The pain was excruciating, but he forced himself to pull it out. He saw a glimpse of Allison's rifle barrel on the roof before it disappeared under cover and he collapsed to the ground. If they didn't expose Daliah, Allison would never get a shot; they had to get the maagrim out in the open.

"Scott," he rasped. The shard had left his throat in tatters and he verged on passing out. "S… Scott… outside…" he wheezed before his eyes fluttered shut. The last thing he registered before unconsciousness was a pair of soft hands on his arm and a familiar voice saying. 'I'll tell him!'

"Ly… dia…"

"PETER!"

Derek had attempted several more attacks on Stiles, but holding back was making it difficult to land anything. That and Stiles' newly honed and unusual power. Instead, he was collecting bruises and broken bones. The status of his uncle was unknown.

"Let me try," Argent said through his teeth. He pulled the slide back on one of his pistols, chambering a round.

Stiles was no longer hovering above the ground, but his face was still twisted into a mix of rage and fear. It was obvious that every move he made only furthered his disgust with himself. However, a berserker-like anger flickered in his eyes. Argent knew that if Stiles – not just Daliah – wasn't stopped, then the teen would be beyond their help. So, aiming for a non-vital area of Stiles' body, the hunter fired a single shot.

Stiles moved quickly, but not quick enough. His pained cry tore through the air as the bullet took a small chunk of his shoulder. He turned to the hunter with a renewed fire in his eyes. Argent's own narrowed. A thought formed in his head and he quickly glanced up at the surrounding rooftops. He had no idea which one Allison was hunkered down at, but he silently willed that she was watching.

"I saw, Dad," whispered his daughter from the darkness of one building's top-most story. She had been watching everything through the high-powered scope mounted atop her rifle. The situation was clear: either Scott exposed Daliah so that Allison could take her shot, or… Or she would be forced to make a different shot.

Allison just remained still, alert, waiting… hoping that Scott and the others succeeded in drawing the monster out… The brunette kept her sights off of Isaac's mangled form. Lydia had gone to him and she could rest easy-ish knowing that. Except…

She flipped her vision back to that of Isaac. He was still there, barely breathing… and alone. "Lydia, no-"

A loud crash sounded and dust filled her sights. The young hunter had no choice but to wait for the dust to clear. Luckily, she didn't have to wait long.

With a supernatural nature, the dust cleared and revealed an only slightly bloodied Daliah. In her hand was Lydia. The girl gasped as tears ran down her face, streaked with dirt, and she clutched desperately at the death grip the monster had on her throat. "Well, well," Allison read from Daliah's lips. "This is… fun."

Down on the ground, Scott picked himself out of the rubble. The Twins did the same before slowly extracting Isaac and taking him to safety. On the opposite side of the plaza, Stiles, Derek, and Chris all froze. There was still no sign of Peter.

"Let her go," Scott finally growled. Despite the adrenaline still flowing through his veins, he was barely able to stand upright.

"Now, darlin'," the monster cooed. She tightened her grip on Lydia, eliciting a squeak from the banshee. "I don't really think you're in any place to make demands."

"You're wrong," he replied.

The shot echoed in the night, louder than anyone – save the Argent's, perhaps – had expected it to be. Daliah's eyes widened and she released Lydia. Scott's eyes also widened. Slowly, however, they both turned to look at Stiles.

The teen fell to his knees and clutched at his bleeding stomach. Barely visible was the backside of the poisoned round. He coughed. Blood dripped from his mouth.

"NOOOO!" Daliah screeched. Another loud shot rang through the air.

This time, Daliah's arm was suddenly raised up. Within her hand was the second round. Another shot fired. She caught this one as well.

It was then that she suddenly moved, too quickly for Allison to aim. The monster was nothing but a blur as she materialized next to her fallen pet, her hair and dress billowing forward when she came to a stop. A few seconds later, he fists unclenched and the specialized poisoned rounded clanked onto the cold asphalt.

"Get up!" she growled. Stiles barely managed to look up at her. "I said, GET UP!" She grabbed his jacket by the collar and lifted him to his feet. However, when she released him, he simply fell back to the ground with another pained cry. The monster turned and screeched vehemently at Scott.

"Stiles…" the alpha whispered, fighting back his emotions.

"You've lost," Argent said coldly. He supported Derek's bulk with one shoulder and kept his pistol aimed at Daliah.

"It's you who has lost!" she snarled in reply. "Your bullets cannot hit me! Your wolves cannot defeat me!" A noise behind her caught her attention. It was Stiles, slowly pushing himself to his hands and knees. Daliah smiled. "You can't even save your friends. See!?" she shouted, waving her arm in Stiles' direction. "See how he still stands, how he still tries to be with me… despite all you've done. You think his poisoned blood will stop me? There are plenty of pathetic souls out there." As Stiles came to stand upright behind her, she smirked triumphantly. "Some who will taste just as good, maybe even sweeter… maybe even more powerful."

"Not if I can help it."

What happened next surprised everyone.

Daliah tried to turn, tried to react, but something held her in place. There was nothing she could do as Stiles raised his arms and plunged both specialized rounds into her neck. The screech that followed shattered any remaining windows that had survived the initial fighting.

The monster was released from Stiles' hold. She fell to the ground, writhing in agony and clawing at her neck. A thick black liquid began oozing from her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth as the toxic blood and ketamine took effect. Suddenly, two more shots echoed through the night as Allison took the opportunity to fire her remaining rounds. Both hit their mark.

Everyone watched in silence as Daliah's form became more and more grotesque; her skin greyed and her body contorted into unnatural angles. Black blood was splattered across her body and the ground beneath it.

Eventually, her movements began to slow and her cries began to quiet. Allison came running into the street and stepped a few paces behind her father. "Is… she dead?" she asked when the monster finally went still.

Argent didn't respond at first. Instead, he walked calmly to Daliah where he raised his gun and emptied the rest of his clip into her head. "…she's is, now."

"Stiles!" Lydia's voice suddenly rasped. Despite her own condition, she had rushed to the teen's side.

"Stiles!" Scott mimicked as he joined them. His best friend was on the ground again, trying desperately not to move. Pained gasps slipped past his bloody lips and tears fell down his temples. Scott pressed gently around the bullet would to steady his friend and stop the bleeding. "Stiles, don't move!"

"Do… don't w-worry," he coughed out. His eyes fluttered. "I can't really… move m-much… of anything."

"We have to get him out of here… and back to Beacon Hills," said Peter from somewhere behind them.

"You're alive," Derek said plainly. Peter pulled a shard of glass from his cheek.

"Barely," he murmured.

"Call an ambulance!" Lydia screamed.

"NO!" Peter interjected. When everyone turned to stare at him, he elaborated. "Scott's mother is our only chance at covering up just how messed up he is. And," he paused to gesture towards the mangled mess that was once Daliah, "I'd rather not explain that."

"Stiles, can you just hold on for…" Scott trailed off when he realized that his best friend was no longer responsive. "STILES!"

"CARRY HIM!" Argent shouted, already half way to his Escalade. Scott obeyed without question. Once there, he and Lydia crawled into the backseat and laid Stiles across their laps. Allison and her father jumped into the front. Chris didn't bother waiting for the doors to close before he put the pedal to the metal and left the rest of the pack behind.

"I guess we get cleaning duty," Peter said sarcastically.

Meanwhile, Scott gripped Stiles' hand tightly while Lydia stroked his hair. "Hang in there, brother," Scott whispered. "…hang on."

OoooO

What followed was chaos.

Scott and the others had been so preoccupied with trying to keep Stiles awake that no one bothered to call Melissa ahead of time. Thankfully, Derek managed to act on the thought a few minutes before the Escalade pulled into the ER entrance.

"SCOTT!" the nurse shouted as she came running out with several other medical practitioners.

"Mom!" the alpha replied, jumping out of the car less than a second after it came to a stop. "Mom, he's dying! Please… please do something!"

Looks of horror crossed the other nurses' faces at the sight of so much blood; when they brought Stiles out and placed him on a gurney the expressions only intensified. Everyone was scrambling and shouting out vitals and other technical medical terms… Scott, Lydia, and Allison just ran alongside the rushing gurney into the hospital for as long as they would allow.

The following hours passed by painfully slow.

Scott used his superb hearing at first to keep a close 'eye' on Stiles' condition from within the waiting room. Eventually, Argent joined them and sat in silence, consoling the girls and bringing them water when someone seemed dehydrated from tears or stress. Lydia seemed to be the worse off. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to shut out the confusion of Stiles' condition. Every once in a while she would gasp, make a comment about how scared he was, remind the others that he was dying, and then fall silent. It didn't really help, but the others knew that she couldn't really control the impulses yet.

Eventually, Derek and Isaac arrived at the hospital. By this time, Scott had closed out the operating room and chose to listen only to the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. Most of what the surgeon and his aides were saying, he didn't understand. What he did understand only confirmed Lydia's lamentations.

"How is he?" Isaac asked as he took a seat by Scott. "Has your mom been able to talk to you yet?"

Scott shrugged. "He's bad," was his only response. Isaac didn't press the matter.

After Chris updated the two newcomers to Stiles' condition, silence overcame them once again. Minutes once more became hours and the hours seemed like centuries. Scott's curiosity would get to be too much and he'd sneak a listen every once in a while, but never for too long. By the way Isaac and Derek were concentrating, he could tell that they were listening in as well. Therefore, it was no surprise that all three of their heads flicked up in tandem mere seconds before Melissa rounded the corner. She didn't even have the chance to speak before Scott assaulted her with questions.

"How is he!? What's wrong with him!? What the hell is respiratory arrest!?"

"Scott, sit down, honey, I'll explain it all," she said with a gentle pat on his shoulder. By now, everyone was paying close attention. "He certainly didn't make it easy… The best explanation that I was able to muster was that he was out goofing off with you guys in the woods when he was attacked by a mystery animal. In an attempt to defend him, someone tried to shoot the animal, but hit him instead. It best explained the… marks all over him."

"But, how is he?" Scott prompted once more. Melissa sighed.

"The hard part was the poison. We haven't been able to give him any sort of sedative or painkiller because it reacts with the poison already in his body; the monster venom, the blood, and the ketamine probably don't get along well enough as it is… His only saving grace is that the ketamine still has him out. Once that wears off…"

"But," Scott said, standing yet again, "but he'll live… right?"

His mother placed her hand back on his shoulder. "The surgeon we have here is one of the best this side of San Francisco. We're doing everything we ca-"

Just then, a pained yell ripped through their wing of the hospital. "STILES!" Scott shouted, attempted to shove past his mother. Derek and Isaac were immediately up and holding him back.

"Scott, please! Sit down. I have to go, I'll be back when I can!" the nurse called out as she rounded the corner and disappeared.

The alpha stopped fighting and turned around, his vehemence suddenly directed towards Allison and her father. "Why the hell did you shoot him!?" he growled.

Allison leapt to her feet. "Scott, I had to! Lydia was too close and I had to do something to stop her."

"Yeah, her! Not Stiles!" he shouted. Argent was on his feet by now.

"Scott, I gave her the signal to do it," he said in his daughter's defense. Before he could explain, Scott had him against the wall by the collar. Everyone gasped and tried to step in, but his eyes were a bright shade of red.

"Don't you get it!?" he asked. "We did nothing. NOTHING! We were supposed to be there, to help him… we're his friends for Christ's sake… And the one time we are able to get him away from Daliah… the one time we can save him… You shoot him! You shoot him! You just…" Slowly, Scott released the hunter and sunk back into his seat.

The others understood perfectly what he meant.

They had all let Stiles down.

Now, there wasn't a damn thing they could do but sit, wait, and listen to the sounds of Stiles' pained screams echoing through the halls of the hospital.

OoooO

Okay. I'm a poop nose. This is really short and I'm sorry! But it was just the best place to leave off…