Scott McCall needs a shower. Seriously, he hasn't bathed in three days and everyone knows it. But who can think about hygiene at a time like this?

Stiles has been missing for six days, and it seems as though every time Scott gets close to an answer as to where he is, all the clues disappear and he's right back where he started. It helps that Liam and Hayden are looking for him wherever Scott can't, but he knows that their memories will leave them eventually, and he'll be left alone. Sheriff Stilinski has his own search going, but he doesn't seem to be having any more luck than Scott. Malia also prefers to search on her own, but Scott mostly thinks it's because she doesn't want the pack to see her grief.

Lydia's a whole other story. For the first few days, she wouldn't even speak. She meditated, trying to hone in on Stiles' location using her Banshee powers. When that didn't work, she began making plans and strategizing, using equations and maps that no one understood. Scott doesn't think she's slept since Stiles disappeared, at least not well. There are dark circles under her eyes that concern him. But it's not as if he can tell her to sleep; he knows what it's like to fear the darkness that lies behind one's own closed eyes.

Today, Scott walks into the animal clinic like he's done since Stiles disappeared. He throws his bag down and goes into the back room, expecting the same, defeated pack to be hunched over the table. But something is different this morning. When he enters the room, he sees only Lydia writing gibberish in her notebook of miracle solutions. No Hayden or Liam.

"Lydia," Scott says, "where are Liam and Hayden." Lydia doesn't seem to notice him, and if she does, she doesn't answer him or even acknowledge what he said. She just continues furiously scribbling in her notebook. Scott walks over to her and puts his hand on hers to still its movement.

"Lydia." Her whole body seems to stall. Lydia looks up at him, and he realizes that there are tears streaming down her face. Her bottom lip begins to quiver.

"It's happening," is all she gets out before the sobs begin. "They...forgot."

With those two words, Scott's vision gets hazy. He shakes his head, as if his physical expression of disbelief could reverse what has already been done. He hears Lydia crying, but it seems distant, removed. He sits down, unable to stay on his feet for this.

"We have to find him," he tells Lydia, but it's mostly for himself. "Before…" He locks eyes with Lydia and they both know exactly why they have to find him as soon as possible. She reaches her hand out and puts it on his arm.

"I don't want to forget him," she declares, her voice hoarse. Scott can see, in her eyes, that she cannot bear the thought of a world without Stiles in it, just as he couldn't imagine a life without his best friend. What's even worse is that, if they don't find him, they'll forget that they even knew a world in which he existed.

"Neither do I," Scott responds. He takes a deep breath and finds the strength to stand. "That's why we're not going to stop searching until we've found him." After moment, Lydia nods and they continue looking at maps and tracking down leads.

That night, Scott finally showers. When he gets out, he looks over at his bed and remembers the first time he realized that Stiles was his best friend…

"Okay, but I think she might have actually noticed me this time!" Stiles argued, dropping his bag on Scott's bed. It was the first week of seventh grade and Scott and Stiles both had English class as their last period. Lydia Martin also happened to be in said class. Of course Lydia didn't even remotely notice either of them, but Stiles was convinced she made eye contact with him. Now he was trying to convince Scott that one day she would notice him and they'd fall madly in love.

"No way, dude," Scott disputed. "Lydia wouldn't notice if you were dying right in front of her." Stiles threw a pillow at Scott and rolled his eyes.

"Not true!"

"Oh, right. She'd probably notice that you were getting blood on her shoe, yell at you, then step over your lifeless body." Scott gave Stiles his best sarcastic smile, prompting Stiles to laugh.

"Whatever," Stiles said. He opened his textbook, about to read the assigned chapter for science class. They had the worst teacher, Mrs. Lenz, and neither of them wanted to get called out for not doing the homework. Scott was opening his book up as well when Stiles spoke again, but in a more serious voice.

"You know that's just an act, right?" Scott looked up at him, surprised by his sincere tone. "She's not dumb or petty. She just wants people to see her that way." He was writing notes casually, but the strain in his jaw told Scott that he cared deeply.

"How do you know?" Scott asked. Stiles always made comments like that: explaining things that were hidden to most eyes. But not Stiles'; Scott knew he couldn't get a thing past the guy.

"Because I don't just see what people want me to see. I'm curious, and my dad says it'll get me in a lot of trouble one day, but it's worth it."

"What's worth it?" Scott wondered.

"Finding the truth. Solving the puzzle," Stiles answered. Scott thought back to all the times Stiles had been there to help him solve a problem or find the truth, even when it meant that Stiles would pay the price. Like when Scott broke his mom's car window playing street hockey, Stiles took the blame because he knew how much Scott hated to disappoint his mom. Or the time Scott broke his arm climbing a tree and Stiles knew exactly what to do and who to call. In that moment, sitting on his bed, looking at Stiles, Scott realized that he had always been and would always be his best friend.

True to his word, Stiles always solved the problems in Scott's life. He was there when Scott became a werewolf, there when he had been at his worst, there when he'd lost Alison. Throughout the years, Stiles has been Scott's companion and his problem-solver.

It's ironic that Stiles isn't here to solve Scott's biggest problem yet.