Stiles wasn't the only one lost on who the guy was, though that didn't say much when it was only Allison and Scott who didn't either. Isaac had been embraced by Peter with the same ease as Derek had before he'd stepped closer to Jackson to look over the wounds and pat him gingerly on the shoulder. Deaton eyed Peter with a hint of ire. The first time Stiles had seen the guy show anything beyond that calm, cool exterior.

Peter didn't seem to register this, or just didn't care. He looked around the room for a moment before those pale eyes settled on Stiles. After flitting a look toward his nephew, as though seeking some sort of confirmation he moved closer to the teen, inspecting him thoroughly. Stiles was sure that it was meant to be intimidating but somehow it was decidedly not. At all. In fact it was more irksome than anything. "So. This is the human?" Another glance toward Derek with his brow up. "Just what does the Alpha want with a scrawny little thing like you?"

Stiles had to fight not to roll his eyes. If he had had any sort of answer to that, it'd be amazing. Instead all he had was the typical biting sarcasm. "Maybe he wants someone to explain the plot of Star Wars or who can recite every line in the last Harry Potter movie? Or, I don't know, maybe he's looking for someone who's not afraid to go toe to toe with big lugs like you."

"Oh! I like him." Peter said it as if his opinion was enough to sway anyone. He clapped his hands once and returned his attention onto Derek. "Have you made any progress?"

"We've been distracted." Derek nodded imperceptibly toward Stiles without taking his eyes off of his uncle. "The scent is the same as the one surrounding the others. Still not one that's familiar."

"Mm, yes, I got your message. Fortunately for you, I was able to actually glean some semblance of information." Peter shifted his arms across his chest, looking rather bored though if the tense set of his shoulders were any indication he was actually on edge. "Does the name Deucalion ring any bells?"

"Who, the old Greek mythology dude?" Several brows raised in his direction. Clearly not the answer Peter was looking for, though it must have registered something in Derek who let out a low snarl.

"I thought you put him down."

"Evidently not." Peter replied, quite composed.

"Sorry, who is Deucalion?" Scott stepped away from Allison.

Stiles nearly jumped when Deaton spoke up instead of either Hale. "Deucalion is a powerful Alpha. He's been known to roam the continental United States in search of his ultimate pack. Last I heard he was in Maine."

"Last year, yes, he was. When I thought I'd disposed of him with the help of the local pack." Peter grumbled out his indignation.

"Wait, I'm sorry. You said he's building his pack, right?" Stiles shifted uncomfortably, his whiskey-brown eyes became unfocused and darted side to side. It wasn't difficult to see he'd become lost in thought. Piecing things together was a specialty of his, always had been. Thanks dad. "But don't-don't wolves have, like, a pack bond? Like you guys are all supposed to feel what the Alpha is feeling or find him with ease? But none-none of you feel that, right?"

"Stiles, where are you going with this?" Derek questioned, having gravitated back toward him.

Stiles ignored him and barreled on. "Isaac, you mentioned it before. That you're connected to Jackson and Derek. Like you just know when one of them needs you, right? And, and, and Jackson, you! You'd said you can hear Erica and Boyd easier than just about anyone else." He pointed to either teen in turn. He'd figured out something that they probably already knew, even if they hadn't come to the realization yet. Looking at each of them he could see the confusion etched into their features. It was frustrating, honestly. "You guys are pack already! Without an Alpha, sure, but pack. Right? So, what if he's not building his pack?"

"You think he's building a pack for someone else?"

"Okay, the skepticism is a little annoying, Derek." His eyes flicked toward the ceiling in a roll. "Look, besides you and ol' Pete here, every other wolf here was turned. Neither of you could have done it so unless there's another Alpha running around somewhere. What other logical reason could he have had for it? I mean, none of you are connected to him."

"First of all, do not call me 'Pete'." Peter growled, "second, what purpose does it serve for him to build a pack for someone else?"

"Okay, okay.." Stiles inhaled, fiddling with the hem of his over-shirt, giving himself a second or two longer to think. His gaze danced between the three eldest men as they would be the ones with an answer. "Ho-How do you become an alpha? Take down the biggest, baddest wolf in the yard?"

"That's one way, yes. An alpha can steal their power from another, or it can be inherited. For instance the power of my sister, Talia, was passed to her daughter Laura upon her death. I am assuming after Laura's death it was then passed to Cora. Although we have no way of knowing that without Cora. Generally speaking the Hale inheritance is passed along to the women in the line, meaning that a male within it could take her power. The Hale's, however, have always had a long, upstanding reputation for protecting our women."

Peter then went on to explain how his niece, Cora, as well as his own daughter, Malia, had been kidnapped the night of the fire. He and Derek had spent the better part of the last 6 years trying to find them. To no avail. Laura had stayed behind to keep an eye on their land, to try and rebuild the Hale house and to figure out how to rebuild their pack. When Laura died Derek had returned to bury her. Before he'd been able to rejoin his uncle, however, others were being turned.

"Wait, didn't you say Laura died in a car accident?" Stiles blurted out, pointing toward Scott. At least the kid had the decency to look embarrassed when both Hale's turned to him. Which made Stiles realize he should probably be ashamed for it. "Sorry."

"The official story is a car accident, though we're certain the Alpha, or a hunter, played a part in her death."

From what Stiles could tell, annoyance aside, Peter seemed like a good guy. He cared about his family and seemed to be doing everything he could to look out for them. What little of his family remained, that is. And he was trying to find the last two Hale's. There was something commendable in that. Even if it seemed like the guy was feeling a little hopeless about the endeavor.

This didn't change Stiles' mind, though. "Okay, so what happens, god forbid, if all the females in the Hale line are gone?"

"It's passed to the first male in the line. Which would be me." Peter inclined his head nobly. "In the unfortunate event of my demise it would pass to Derek. Should anything happen to him the Hale line is no more."

Well. That was depressing, wasn't it? Derek seemed unfazed by this. Something he'd probably thought about before. Stiles leaned back against the exam table beside Jackson, who had gingerly crossed his arms in an attempt to keep his tough facade up while also avoiding putting any pressure on the wounds in his side. He'd healed some but not enough to leave.

"Okay.. so what happens," Stiles frowned and chewed on the skin around his thumb for a second, "what happens if these guys all see Derek as pack and Derek becomes the Alpha.. and then this Deucalion kills Derek? Sorry, big guy, just a thought." He flashed a quick apologetic look toward the broody teen. Derek appeared deep in thought.

"Theoretically," Peter sighed, "the pack bond would shift to Deucalion. In that event anyway. However, it seems an awful lot of trouble to go through to wind up with this motley crew of inexperienced teenagers."

Stiles had another thought, another question, but Deaton had begun speaking before he could voice it. "And unfortunately, there might be one more.." The statement reminding them all of Lydia's current situation.

The information caused Peter's gaze to flick around the room, silently questioning it. Derek nodded his uncle out of the room where the two could have a more private conversation. Taking advantage of it Jackson pushed off of the table and moved toward Isaac. "We should get to the hospital, check on her. Hey, loser, give me my keys."

"Oh, shit, right!" Stiles quickly dug into his pocket so that he could lob them across the room. Jackson caught them in the air and strode out the door with Isaac on his heels. Allison remarked on wanting to go to the hospital as well, so Scott followed her out. Apparently being away from his girlfriend while she was still in the process of freaking out over the supernatural wasn't a good idea.

Looking about, he realized that left him alone with Deaton. Great. While he liked the guy, Deaton still gave off this creepy vibe that got under his skin in a way he couldn't quite put his finger on. He could hear Peter and Derek speaking in hushed tones toward the front of the clinic and exhaled a sigh. Without one of them to give him a ride home he was stuck here, unless he walked, because the Jeep was still parked at the mall. A huge oversight on his part when they'd left.

When the two returned Stiles eyed Derek who seemed even more frustrated than usual even as he put himself right near Stiles again. Peter gazed around the room, looking thoroughly bored but Stiles could see worry in the lines around his eyes. Stiles drummed his fingers on his thighs and turned toward Derek again. "How much power does an Alpha gain from killing another?"

Derek's gaze flicked toward Peter, who cleared his throat. "That depends on the power of the pack. The stronger the pack, the stronger their Alpha."

"So.. how big is this guys pack if he's running around killing Alpha's and turning people?" The look the other males shared was both grave and frustrating, because it looked like none of them had an answer. Great.

–

The dream had started out pleasant. Reminiscent of a memory, really. He'd been stretched out against his mother's side as her fingers stroked through his hair with one hand, the other held a book that she read to him. They were laying in her hospital bed but that didn't immediately register. His arm lay draped across her stomach, half asleep as her touch and voice soothed him. Stiles wished he could have more time with her. More time when she was like this. Coherent.

Everything began to change too quickly. The once lilted sound of her voice became raspy, staggered. As though she were choking on the words she tried to read. His gaze jumped to her face and instead of his mother, it was Lydia lying beside him. Choking on blood that spilled from her lips, staining the blue speckled hospital gown. Her wide green eyes were focused on him as Stiles lurched out of the bed. 'Save them' she gurgled. Before he could do or say anything a scream ripped from her chest that seemed to shake everything around him.

The sound echoed in his ears when he woke with a start. He'd texted Jackson straight-away to make sure Lydia was okay. Or, in the same condition anyway. A response came through nearly five minutes later, informing him that she'd made it through surgery to tend to the internal damage but she was still unconscious. No one knew when she would wake. He sighed and threw himself back against the pillow. Stiles had doubted he would drift back out, the dream still too fresh and horrifying.

An hour later and he had. He woke to the sound of her screams again as that predawn light filtered past his curtains. This time it had startled him so badly that he'd found himself on the floor. Wincing, Stiles raised a hand to rub at the temple he'd knocked against the bedside table in his tumble. Boyd raised a brow at him from his place on the floor beneath his window though said nothing.

–

Over the course of the next week Stiles contended with not only the worry over the Alpha-varied phone calls and general stalking still a daily threat-but nightly dreams about Lydia. Each one ending in her screams that woke him. Some were much more terrifying than others. Like the one where she'd lead him on a walk through the woods to a clearing with a massive tree before she'd turned and screamed. Others were almost docile. Until she shrieked.

He'd gone to the hospital to see Lydia two days ago. Her wounds were healing, at the rate a normal human beings might. Which only brought more questions than answers. No one had known how she was surviving. The bite was supposed to either turn or kill within 24 hours. And here she was, neither turned nor dead. It brought about the question of immunity to the bite.

"It's.. not unheard of." Peter had remarked while he, Stiles and Derek sat at a table at the diner across the street from the hospital. Stiles wasn't ready to go back to the prison his house was steadily becoming.

"So it's not impossible?" He asked while smudging a french fry into the ranch dressing on the edge of his plate.

"A human cannot be immune to the bite."

Stiles brows crinkled in the middle, confusion etching onto his features. "You telling me she's not human? She looked pretty human to me in there hooked up to all those machines and-"

"Stiles." Derek's deeper voice dragged his attention to him with a frown. He must have picked up on the sudden uptick in Stiles heart, or maybe the fact that the teen was quickly becoming overwhelmed. "He didn't say that. What he means is that there's more supernatural beings out there than just werewolves."

"Meaning, what? Lydia is something else?" The fry still hung halfway to his mouth, ranch dripped onto the table in front of him. "Like.. what?"

Peter shook his head, "that's as much a mystery as you are."

Stiles grumbled a response before shoving the fry into his mouth to avoid a real reply. They were no closer on that than they'd been weeks ago.

Derek flashed a look at his uncle then turned to Stiles in earnest. "No one knows every sort of supernatural being out there, Stiles. Not even us. Not even people like the Argent's have uncovered everything. All we do know is that there's some who can't be turned. We won't know anything for sure until Lydia wakes up."

"Yeah.. which is something no one can even answer. When." He'd exhaled heavily and shoved his plate away, appetite gone.

Needless to say, his nerves were absolutely wracked since then. Scott was supposed to stay the night and Stiles had never felt so disconnected from his friend in all their lives. Even having lived as far away from him as he had for 8 long years. Stiles was so tired and distracted that he'd barely been able to game with Scott. To be fair, his sunshine-y friend talked an awful lot about Allison and Stiles was almost sick to death of hearing about the sickeningly sweet romance. Normally, when the two would play Call of Duty he wiped the floor with his best friend. Tonight Scott won more often than not. Somehow Scott didn't offer the same level of distraction as Jackson had when they'd played.

Probably because Stiles was grumpy and exhausted already. Between worrying over Lydia and the Alpha and everything else and not sleeping well, who could fault him for being a little agitated.

Maybe that was why Scott had called Derek when Stiles was in the bathroom. Or maybe the guy just wanted to go and spend time with his girlfriend. All he knew was that when he returned to his room with a bottle of water for himself and Scott, it was to find Derek instead. The guy was settled comfortably on his bed with Scott's controller in hand.

"What is the point of this game?"

"Point and shoot?" Stiles replied, fighting not to laugh at the way Derek stared dubiously at the controller. "It's a pretty straightforward game, dude."

"Don't call me 'dude'." The words escaped automatically, as though he hadn't even realized he'd said it. "Okay but how do I shoot?"

The laugh tumbled out then. Every other werewolf who had decided to play with him had picked up on the game pretty easily. Then again, Derek seemed completely technologically illiterate. It was sort of adorable. Wait. No. Stiles quickly nixed that word from his vocabulary when it came to Derek.

Derek was the furthest thing from adorable. He exuded masculine energy and anger. He was gorgeous and broody and mysterious in all of the best ways. Not that he'd ever say any of that aloud. He had a feeling Derek might put him through a wall if he did. Although, maybe that wasn't the worst thing either. There were many times over the course of the next few hours that Stiles forced that thought from his head when the elder teen leaned into his personal space to try and obscure his vision so that he could win a round.

Or when Derek was just close enough that Stiles could smell him, a smell he didn't think was attributed to any cologne. A heady scent of leather, the forest, and a hint of cinnamon. It was a combination he never would have thought would work together. Yet somehow, on Derek, it was perfectly fitting.

His favorite thing, though, was when the guy smiled. Not in that tense or irritated way Stiles was used to seeing but in actual glee. It didn't happen often enough but each time it did Stiles had to remind himself to divert his gaze. The third time he blew up Stiles' guy in game Derek grinned broadly and practically bounced in his seat on the bed. Stiles found himself staring a little longer than was necessary. Which resulted in his fourth on-screen death.

Derek was distracting.

In both good and bad ways.

–

"Lydia, where are we going?" He called, trailing after her. Stiles wasn't sure how long he'd been following behind her, just that he was barefoot and the pebbles and broken asphalt under his feet had long since passed the realm of discomfort.

She walked along ahead of him, her hips swaying, and her long, perfect hair swishing behind her. She was barefoot as well. And wore only the hospital gown. Letting out a huff of exasperation he raced to catch up with her. They were walking down an unfamiliar street, though it might not have been if it were daytime or if there were more light. With more than half of the streetlights not on and the majority of the lights within the houses they passed out it made the whole scene all the more eerie.

Of course, every one of these dreams had the same creepy, sinister quality. Chasing after her, Stiles knew it was another dream. He knew she'd scream again and he'd launch himself out of bed, likely resulting in bodily harm. It didn't matter if he tried to wake himself. He hadn't been able to bring himself out of one yet.

Catching up with her, he grabbed her just above the elbow. "Lydia!"

She drew to a halt and turned those wide, terrified eyes onto him. He was glad to see that she wasn't covered in the usual blood. She also wasn't looking at him but through him. "We have to save them." Her voice was distant, tinged with fear.

"Save who?" Lydia turned away from him again and slid out of his grasp to continue walking. "Lydia, save who!?"

A huff of air escaped him as he rushed after her again, his bare feet hardly making a sound on the concrete even though he could feel the sharp jabs of stone. It was only when the ground had some give beneath him that Stiles realized things had changed. In the way that they did in dreams: startling and all at once.

His gaze pulled from the wandering girl to look around. Damp earth and dead leaves littered the ground, trees jutted up everywhere. Turning to stare behind him showed the street they'd just been walking was gone. Nothing but forest. Before he could lose sight of Lydia he rushed behind her again. As he drew closer, he realized she was whispering to herself. It almost sounded like a chant.

Stiles reached for her arm again, both so that she couldn't wander away and to hopefully hear her better. Lydia didn't stop walking, just lead him deeper into the trees. "Save them, save them, save them, save them." Over and over again the words were whispered.

"Lydia?" She seemed completely oblivious to Stiles walking beside her, just continued to chant to herself. It didn't stop him from talking to her, even if he knew it wasn't going to do any good."Lydia, save who?"

Lydia walked easily over the ground, as though the unearthed roots and foliage wasn't impeding in her ability to move. As though she didn't get stuck in the soft dirt or step on a sharp twig or her gown didn't snag on low hanging branches. Of course, he shouldn't have either. It was a dream but even in his dreams Stiles was awkward and clumsy. Because why wouldn't he be?

She stopped suddenly, so abruptly that he nearly walked right into her. Those wide eyes darted around like she was confused about where she was and why before landing on Stiles. It was the first time she hadn't looked right through him. "Stiles?" Her hands grasped his arms, inhaling sharply. "Stiles, you have to save them!"

"Save who, Lydia?!"

One hand pulled from him to point over his shoulder. Brows knitted together as he turned. Stiles stumbled back, dragging Lydia with him. Boyd. Erica. Isaac. Each of them suspended from thick branches.. the lower half of their bodies lay separate from them on the forest floor. He tugged Lydia to him to try and shield her eyes from it.

And then she screamed.

It turned out.. so had he.

He must have screamed before being fully awake. Stiles woke thrashing against his comforter with a pair of strong hands grasping his arms and a worried voice in his ear. "Stiles. Stiles! Wake up." Panting, his gaze found Derek's.

The hands released him when he stopped struggling and he dropped back against the pillow. "Jesus, that was so real." The sound muffled by his hands as they'd raised to cover his face.

"What was?"

After recounting the dream Derek regarded him warily, then pulled his phone out and dialed a number. When the recipient didn't answer he hung up and dialed another. Stiles wasn't sure if he was only feeling unsettled because of the nightmare or because Derek seemed to be on edge now. It was only made worse when he hung up without answer and dialed another. "None of them are answering."

"Yeah, but it was just a dream, right?"

"Maybe not." Derek dialed again and Stiles could only hear his side of the conversation when someone picked up. "Hey. When's the last time Boyd and Erica were with you?" Jackson, he was assuming. "And Isaac?" They weren't at the hospital. Most of the pack had been going between Stiles' house and the hospital. "Are you sure? No, no, stay there with Lydia. Jackson," he paused, eyeing Stiles for a moment, "don't let her out of your sight."

He'd barely hung up when the phone was back at his ear. Derek moved away from the bed and dug into Stiles' dresser. Before he could protest the elder teen was throwing a clean shirt at him. A cue to get up and dressed. "Scott. When did you last see Isaac?" Stiles listened as best he could while tugging on his shirt. "He'd said he was coming to your house." Stiles shoved on his shoes and quickly laced them. "And when's the last time you saw Allison?" An annoyed growl rumbled in Derek's chest before, "meet us at the preserve. Yes, now!" He didn't give Scott the chance to answer before hanging up.

"You really think they're out there?"

"I don't know.. but it's not like them not to answer their phones."

"Dude, come on, it was just a messed up stress dream."

"Maybe. Maybe not. It's worth looking into." Derek sighed and Stiles followed him out of the house. He tried calling all three of them repeatedly while Derek drove, probably pretty far over the speed limit. By the time they pulled to a stop in front of the preserves 'no admittance after dark' sign Isaac's phone was going straight to voicemail.

"So, you wanna tell me why you don't think it was just a dream?" Stiles asked as he pushed open his door.

"Because Lydia isn't a wolf but she isn't human. If she's screaming you awake, there's something to it." Derek had a way of saying things that made Stiles think the answer should have been utterly obvious. Even if it wasn't. "You said she's said 'save them' in every dream?"

"Yeah but this is the first time I've seen anyone other than Lydia in the dream.." There was some connection he just didn't see. Not yet anyway. "Can you pick up their scents?"

Derek shook his head, eyes flashing blue as he stared deeper into the trees than Stiles could see. "Stay close." He murmured before stepping away.

Try as he might, Stiles had difficulty keeping up. Both because Derek walked fast and he couldn't see the unearth roots as easily as the other male. It must have been an annoyance because after he stumbled the fourth time Derek wrapped a hand around his bicep and trudged him along beside him. Which meant each time he tripped it resulted in a sharp pain in his shoulder as the firm grip kept him upright.

They'd only been walking for a few minutes when Derek stilled and looked to his left. Only a second later and golden eyes flashed before Scott stepped up beside them. "The Argent's are here. I saw their cars when I parked." While this was new information for Stiles, Derek seemed to have already guessed it.

His responding scowl seemed to indicate as much anyway. "They have a penchant for cutting wolves in half."

Stiles wrinkled his nose in reply while Scott gazed at him for a long moment. "Are you sure it's a good idea for him to be out here?"

"I'm right here, Scotty. No need to talk like I'm not."

Both of them ignored him. "I wasn't going to leave him there alone." Was all Derek said before he lead them deeper into the forest. Under normal circumstances he might have protested the need for a babysitter but given that he'd perpetually had one for weeks now he was sure the argument would have fallen on deaf ears. No point in wasting breath.

Derek jerked Stiles to a stop after another ten minutes of hiking in the dark. Scott stiffened beside him and when Stiles turned to look at his best friend it was to see he'd already wolfed out. Because that wasn't foreboding. At all. He wanted to ask what they'd seen or smelled but didn't trust himself to speak just yet. At least not until he felt the sharp pricks of Derek's claws in his arm. "Dude."

The elder male flashed him an all too familiar look 'don't call me dude'. It was the same look the guy flashed him every time. He loosened his grip anyway. While Stiles stared up at him he saw the ears elongating, the brows beginning to disappear and the fangs slicking into place. "Argent.. or Alpha?" He asked in a loud whisper.

"Argent." Derek growled around the fangs, eyes narrowed ahead.

Lydia's chant of 'save them' played through his head as he tried to see what they could. "How far? Any blood? Are the others okay? What are we going to do?"

"Stiles." The growl came again. "Shut up."

Instead of giving a snarky response, he clamped his mouth shut to keep himself from saying anything further. Derek gave only a mild tug on his arm, careful of the claws, to get him moving again. Stiles wished he could move with the same level of silence as the others but every step he took resulted in crunching leaves or snapping twigs that he was sure would give them away. When voices reached him through the darkness Derek suddenly released him.

The elder male pointed at Stiles then the nearest tree. He didn't need words to interpret that. Stay here. He didn't protest, just crouched against it while Derek and Scott moved off into the darkness.

"Your Alpha should have come along to save you by now, shouldn't he?" A gruff voice echoed toward him. Stiles recognized it from the Argent house the night they'd broken in.

"We told you we don't have an Alpha." Erica! She was alive! He hoped that meant the others were too.

"All of you dogs have an Alpha, little girl." Stiles recognized that voice too. The harsh female one that he was sure belonged to Allison's aunt. He'd not laid eyes on her but he was certain she looked the same as she sounded. Like a bitch.

"Not one that gives a damn about us." Isaac. Stiles felt himself breathing a little easier. A little. Two out of three. Then again, Boyd wasn't a big talker.

"No matter, my dear. We'll put an end to them and find their Alpha sooner or later." The old man growled.

"Gerard, they weren't here the night Victoria died. As far as we know they've never hurt anyone." Mr. Argent. Stiles would recognize that rough voice anywhere.

Gerard laughed cruelly. "They're still werewolves, Chris. It's only a matter of time before they do."

"And until then we keep to the code!"

"Your morale high ground will get more people killed or turned, Chris." Kate replied sounding both exasperated and amused. "They're going to hurt someone eventually, we should eliminate the threat before they do."

"Then what makes us any better than them?" Chris snapped, Stiles could hear leaves crunching as the man paced. "I won't be a part of this."

"You won't avenge your wife?" Gerard sounded almost as entertained as his daughter.

Chris' voice rose to a shout, "Not against innocents! Let them go."

"You might as well leave, little brother, if you're not going to help us."

"I'd go quickly, too." Gerard's voice held a bitter edge, the sound followed by a metallic scraping that Stiles thought reminded him of medieval movies where a sword was drawn. "Unless you intend to help.."

Stiles strained his stupid human ears, listening for everything that might echo to him in the darkness. What followed was the snap of twigs and crunch of leaves as Chris stormed away and right toward Stiles. Which was immediately preceded by a female screaming.