Losing bits of time wasn't Stiles' favorite thing. It reminded him too much of his mom near the end of her illness, when she would forget more things than she remembered. To go from his hyperactive mind, which caught things he didn't even want to pay attention to, to the opposite, was unsettling. Especially when the trigger for it was his magic.

There were worse ways to come out of those lost states than being kissed by his recently reunited boyfriend. Isaac's lips were dry and ice cold, but it still ranked as one of the best kisses of his life. Getting the chance to experience one again, when it wasn't certain for a while if he would get to, made up for those insignificant details.

"Isaac?" Stiles questioned, hating to break the moment, but needing to speak to the boy he'd been searching for for hours.

"Stiles," Isaac whispered, running his finger along Stiles' cheek. Stiles was finally starting to relax into the comfort of knowing everyone was safe and this was over, when Isaac's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped forward.

"Isaac!" Stiles shouted, wrapping his arms around Isaac before he could fall to the floor. He lowered Isaac down and laid his head in his lap, ignoring all the blood that was smearing on his clothes.

"Is he okay?" Allison asked, standing over them with her bow at the ready. She had her head on a swivel, covering them since Stiles was too distracted to pay attention to their surroundings.

"I don't know," Stiles moaned, trying to find a spot on Isaac's neck that didn't have a puncture wound so he could check his pulse. Reliving what Caleb had gone through was bad, but it was nothing compared to seeing Isaac like this. Stiles would do it again a million times over to spare his boyfriend this pain.

"He's breathing," Derek confirmed, kneeling down next to them and taking one of Isaac's hands in his own. Stiles watched the black veins snake up Derek's arm as he pulled the pain from Isaac's body. He was glad to see it go, but he hated that there was so much for him to take. Derek hopped back into the fray as soon as he'd done all he could.

Stiles spared a glance at what was going on around him, finding his friends subduing the maniacs who had taken Isaac. His gaze darkened when it landed on the man who had held his claws to Isaac's throat. He was more or less back to a normal color again and lying unconscious on the floor. Stiles could feel the magic bubbling up inside of him again, but before any of it could be let out, Isaac started stirring in his lap.

"Isaac?" Stiles whispered, cupping Isaac's cheek in his hand. It took a few seconds, but Isaac's eyes finally opened again. They were half-lidded and a little unfocused, but it was good enough for Stiles.

"You found me," Isaac whispered, letting an exhausted smile flash across his face.

"I always will," Stiles sniffled, shoving back his emotions as firmly as he could. Crying could come later, when he was safe at home with Isaac in his arms. "Your stunt with the ring sure didn't help."

"Is Erica okay? And Boyd?" Isaac asked worriedly. The concern for his packmates seemed to rouse him a little.

"They're fine. Deaton took care of Erica and Boyd stayed with her, just in case. You know they would've loved to be here to kick some ass." Isaac hummed in agreement. Stiles could feel some of the tension leave Isaac's body at the news that they were okay. Once again, they seemed to make it through another crisis without any casualties. Stiles hoped their bad luck would run out before their good luck.

"I'm sorry about the ring, but I couldn't leave her there. I had to make sure you'd be able to find her."

"Selfless idiot," Stiles scolded, softening the harsh words with a gentle caress of Isaac's cheek. "I tried to track you like I did with Erica and Boyd when the Alpha pack had them, but it didn't work."

"I think it's magic," Isaac said suddenly, gripping Stiles around his wrist. "They weren't born like this, they were made."

"I think you're right. I could feel the magic when I got here. I think that's what blocked me from being able to find you."

"How did you find me?"

"We can talk about that later," Stiles brushed off. Isaac wouldn't be happy to hear what Stiles put himself through, even if it was to save his life. That conversation could wait until Isaac didn't look like he was still on death's door. "Right now we have to figure out what to do with these guys."

"I'm partial to killing them," Peter announced, eyeing the closest bound man with excitement.

"You realize you're saying that in front of the Sheriff," Stiles' dad ground out, glaring over at Peter. Stiles wasn't going to admit out loud that he still agreed with the idea. Every time he caught a glimpse of the man who'd held Isaac, he had the almost uncontrollable urge to tear him apart from the inside out. Some people didn't deserve to live, no matter how ugly that thought was.

"And you realize that you can't just throw them in jail with normal humans. They'll kill their way out before even making it to a cell," Peter pointed out. "Things are handled differently in our world."

"Murder is still murder."

"Not if it's justified."

"Their fangs," Isaac interjected quietly.

"What?" Stiles asked, turning his attention back to his boyfriend.

"When I was trying to escape, one of them blitzed me. I fought back and knocked one of their fangs out and they freaked. Like I'd done the worst thing possible," Isaac explained.

"What happens if a wolf loses their teeth?" Stiles asked, looking to Derek for an answer.

"It would make us weaker, since it takes away one of our natural weapons, but it wouldn't kill us," Derek shrugged.

"So it has to do with drinking blood," Scott concluded. Stiles felt Isaac shiver at the mention of that.

"If you or I drank blood, it wouldn't do anything for us," Derek confirmed.

"Let's find out for sure," Peter proposed, stalking over to one of the bound men and slapping his face. They'd all been dosed with a strain of wolfsbane similar to what Lydia used on Derek, so they didn't have the ability to escape or fight back. It wouldn't last forever, so they were going to have to figure out what to do with them.

"No," the man in Peter's grip moaned. Stiles felt no sympathy for him. How many times had Isaac asked for them to stop? Or Caleb?

"What happens if I pull your teeth out?" Peter asked, sounding as casual as someone asking for directions to the grocery store.

"Don't," the man whined, weakly shifting in Peter's hold.

"How about I rip one out and see for myself?"

"Spell! A spell," the man whimpered, cringing away from Peter's claws.

"Magic," Scott mumbled, shooting him a sidelong glance. Scott's wariness of anything supernatural or magic related was a known fact, but Stiles wished he would get over it. There was no escaping it for any of them, so why not embrace it? Normal humans had evil in them too.

"Can you take the magic from them?" Derek asked, forcing Peter away from the guy he'd been holding before he could take matters into his own hands.

"I don't know. I've never tried anything like that before." Stiles had been focusing on performing magic, not messing with someone else's. He didn't even know if it was possible. Breaking Ms. Blake's connection to the nemeton was different, since the tree had been calling out to him and he did what came naturally. He didn't know where to start in this situation. "Even if we take away that part of them, they are still dangerous. What's to stop them from killing for fun?"

"My dad," Allison declared suddenly. "He'll know what to do."

"How is turning them over to hunters different from killing them?" Scott asked.

"What are the other options, Scott?" Stiles snapped, feeling his frustrations build at his best friend. Why did they always have to be the good guys and make the noble decisions? These guys would have no problem killing everyone where they stood.

"Stiles-"

"It's not like that anymore. After everything with Gerard, things changed," Allison explained, shifting her bow to one hand so she could pull out her cell phone. "When we were in France over the summer, the family decided that the old way of doing things wasn't right. That executions without cause weren't the answer."

"So what is?"

"There's a place they can go where they'll be guarded by people who know what they're dealing with and how to handle it. They won't be automatically killed, but they won't be set free to hurt anyone else."

"Werewolf jail?" Stiles scoffed, bristling at the thought of any of these monsters getting to live out a full life, no matter how miserable it might be. They were probably moments away from taking Isaac's life away from him.

"It's the only option," Scott said, nodding at Allison. "Make the call." Stiles tuned everyone else out as Allison spoke to her dad, focusing on Isaac again. His boyfriend had gotten a little more color to him, but he was still too pale for Stiles' liking.

"How do you feel about the plan?" Stiles asked, running his fingers through Isaac's hair.

"The only thing I feel right now is cold," Isaac huffed, reminding Stiles that he was barely wearing any clothes.

"Shit! I'm such an asshole," Stiles groaned, thanking his earlier self for putting on a flannel button up. He quickly took it off, draping it over Isaac's chest. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

"Thank you," Isaac sighed, curling under it as best he could.

"Are you healing? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Yeah, slowly. I'm just really tired," Isaac murmured, closing his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again.

"Can you try to stay awake for me? I know it sucks, but I want Deaton to check you over before you fall asleep."

"Help me?"

"Anything for you," Stiles agreed, clasping one of Isaac's icy hands in his own to try to warm it. "Winnie isn't going to let you out of her sight after this. You're giving her little gray hairs."

"I bet."

"I'm not going to either. You're gonna stay right by my side until I say otherwise. Derek better get used to seeing my face."

"No one could ever get used to your face," Derek deadpanned. Stiles ignored him, babbling on about the things they would do when they were back home again. It ranged from mundane to over the top, starting with the lame school Halloween dance, going all the way to planning a cross country trip for the next summer. The idea of the two of them and Winnie on the open road was nice. No warehouses or blood sucking assholes at all.

Stiles kept up the steady stream of words until Chris Argent burst into the room, in all of his "retired" hunter glory. He obviously hadn't missed a step, with his bag of goodies slung over his shoulder and a gun in each hand. Lydia was right behind him, abandoning her post now that the situation was mostly handled.

"I've got to say you've looked better, Isaac," Lydia said, kneeling down next to them.

"Quit flirting with me. You missed your chance," Isaac mumbled, flashing her a quick grin.

"So I guess you won't want this," Lydia replied, pulling what looked like a pack of aluminum foil out of her bag.

"Forget what I said. I'm in love with you," Isaac moaned, letting the two of them shift him slightly so they could wrap the material around his body.

"A shock blanket? Why do you have one?" Stiles asked.

"Why don't you?" Lydia shot back.

"That's a good point," Stiles conceded. With the amount of trouble they got into on a regular basis, they should have every emergency item at the ready. He was going to have to stock his jeep.

"It's going to be a pain to transport them, but I have some people who can do it," Chris said, looking around at all the monsters he had to deal with.

"I'm sorry to drag you back into this," Allison sighed, tapping her fingers against her bow.

"If you're in it, I'm in it," Chris shrugged. Stiles could appreciate a supportive parent.

"What am I supposed to tell people? Unsolved murders can't keep piling up. And Caleb's family deserves answers," his dad said, aiming his question at Chris. They couldn't say everything was an animal attack and expect people to believe it. And if things kept going unsolved, it would make the Sheriff look incompetent. Stiles couldn't let this world ruin his dad's life.

"You can say the killer fled, but is being tried for a different crime in a place with no extradition treaty," Chris proposed.

"How would I convince people of that?"

"I can get the paperwork for you."

"Why do you sound like you've done something like this before?"

"Do you really want to hear the answer to that?"

"Probably not," Stiles' dad sighed, running a hand down his face. "Do it. It's our best play."

"I'm sorry for all this. If I hadn't gotten taken-"

"Stop that right now," Stiles said sternly, interrupting Isaac before he could go further. "I'm never going to listen to you apologize for something someone else chose to do. No one ever has the right to hurt you. Everything that happened is on them." They both knew that Stiles wasn't just talking about the situation now, but every time Isaac had been hurt. His boyfriend still had moments of guilt and regret when it came to his father, no matter how much he rationally knew it was wrong. Stiles would never stop insisting that Isaac deserved love, not hurt.

"I want to get these guys more secure before I call in some associates to move them. And it would probably be best for everyone if I was the only one around when they get here," Chris said, looking pointedly at the werewolves in the room. Just because hunters weren't supposed to kill werewolves on sight, it didn't mean that they were friends.

"Take Isaac to Deaton. We'll finish up here," Derek directed, nodding at Stiles to get going. He didn't have to be told twice.

"I'll go with you, just in case," Scott said, stooping down to help Isaac to his feet.

"You ready to get out of here?" Stiles asked, grabbing the shirt and blanket draped over Isaac so they wouldn't fall off.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Isaac huffed, bracing himself to be on his feet again. They heaved him up and Isaac immediately listed to one side. Scott caught him and held him up as Stiles fluttered around him anxiously. He needed to find a super strength spell so he wasn't held back by human limitations. "Sorry, sorry. I'm okay."

"You are, but I've still got you," Scott replied casually, shifting Isaac so he was taking most of his weight, but still gave him the semblance of walking under his own power. Stiles would've preferred Scott outright carry him, but he figured Isaac needed to be able to stand on his own two feet, after everything he'd been put through.

"I'll drive them to the jeep, then come back for the rest of you," Lydia said, before pointing a stern finger in Isaac's direction. "If you get blood in my car, you're paying to have it detailed."

"I've got Derek's credit card," Isaac replied, flashing her a shaky grin. Stiles could see Isaac was at the end of his rope, but was forcing himself to act as normally as possible. Once there weren't so many eyes on him, he wouldn't have to keep up appearances.

"Let's blow this popsicle stand," Stiles declared, sliding up to Isaac's side to help him walk out. They were so close to making this experience a distant memory. If they could get through everything else, they could get through this. They were just getting to the doorway of the room when Stiles heard a low groan from behind him. He was going to ignore it, since the tied up men had made a few noises here and there, but what he heard next stopped him in his tracks.

"Best blood I ever drank." Every muscle in Stiles' body clenched up in anger. It had taken every ounce of his willpower to let these maniacs go, to trust that Chris Argent would take care of business, even if it wasn't what Stiles would've preferred. But that sentence of gloating was the thing that snapped Stiles' control.

"What did you say?" Stiles growled, turning his head to where the man was still lying. He was completely beaten at this point, but he still had a smirk on his face.

"Stiles," Isaac whispered, but Stiles couldn't stop. He stalked over to the man, ignoring his dad telling him to stop. No one had moved to intercept him, but he also wouldn't have let them.

"What did you say?" Stiles demanded again, grabbing the man by the front of his shirt. The dark color had masked it, but Stiles could feel the blood that had soaked into the material. Isaac's blood.

"I can still taste him." Stiles didn't lose time now. He was completely in the moment as he stared into the man's eyes and let the words flow out of his mouth. Stiles may not have known a way to undo the spell that gave this disgusting power, but he didn't need to. If he couldn't accomplish his goal with finesse, he'd do it with force.

"Putresco," Stiles finished with a snarl. He dropped the man back to the floor, standing over him to wait for the effects of the spell. Everyone else was watching in silence, waiting to see what he'd done. They didn't have to wait long.

"What have you done?" the man asked in horror. The words were slurred a little and a dribble of blood rolled out the side of his mouth. Followed by a tooth. And then another. Stiles was satisfied after he counted five, turning on his heel and walking back to where Isaac was waiting for him. His boyfriend's expression was even, but Scott was staring at him in trepidation. Stiles felt no regrets.

He walked back to his spot beside Isaac and resumed their trek out of the building. The screams of the man were echoing against the walls, but they didn't bother Stiles at all. In fact, he was smiling his first genuine smile since Isaac had gone missing.