Scott drove us on his bike toward the loft, my arms around his waist to stay on, Kira following behind us in her own car.

We had to get there now. Before the sun set and the oni appeared.

*

The sun was already setting before we got there, Scott driving faster, Kira driving faster behind us.

*

When we got there, as Scott and I pulled the helmets off, getting off of the bike, I said, "Once things settle for the night, I'm kicking Derek's ass."

"Because he told me about you leaving?" Scott asked as Kira got out of her car.

"Yeah."

"Well, I know you, and I know you wouldn't just kick his ass, you'd kill him."

Kira ran toward us as the gunshots made us look up at the loft windows, the lights flashing as two people pulled two different triggers.

Scott, Kira and I ran up.

*

When we got there, Stilinski and Argent pointed their guns toward us until they realized it was just us, lowering them. I saw a wound on Derek's back, but we didn't see any oni or Stiles. Just Stilinski, Derek, Allison and Argent.

"What happened?" Scott asked.

"They disappeared," Allison answered. "They literally just vanished."

"And so did Stiles," Stilinski said.

*

I sighed as I walked into Scott's room, as he stood at his dresser. "Did you really have to bring me here?"

"You said it yourself," Scott said. "You were gonna kick Derek's ass for outting you. Derek's hurt right now, so I'd figured I'd let him heal before you killed him." I smirked, looking away. He wasn't over exaggerating.  "I could loan you a T-shirt if you want."

I shook my head, starting to take off my leather jacket. "I'm okay."

"Take the bed. I'll sleep in the chair."

He started to walk for the chair, sitting down as I set my jacket on the floor next to the door, not making a move toward the bed. "Why'd you really ask me to come?"

"Uh, I figured I could convince you to stay in town, actually," Scott admitted. I nodded once, looking away. "Instead of you leaving. Again." I looked back at him. "Did you really believe I'd let you go without a fight?"

"No," I answered. "Did you really believe I'd let you sleep in the chair?"

Scott chuckled. "I've woken up plenty of times in this thing. It's okay."

"I'm used to sleeping in chairs," I admitted. "Not beds."

"Yeah, Derek told me about the chair you sleep in the upstairs of the loft."

"Yeah, Derek tells you a lot of things he shouldn't be telling you."

"Don't worry about it," Scott told me. "But why do you think I let you have the bed? The old Hale property, the underground hideout, and now you're sleeping in a chair in the loft. No beds for a little over a year."

Why did I hate it but like it at the same time when he was worried about me?

I hated it more than I liked it.

"It's a good chair, and I'm gonna kick Derek's ass for telling you that." I tilted my head as I looked away. "Or for telling you anything."

"But you have to admit you've forgotten what a bed feels like," Scott said. I nodded absentmindedly. I had. He stood, walking toward me, taking one of my hands. "Fine. How about this?"

He led me closer to the bed, laying down on the right side, but I hesitated, standing on the right side. He nodded, so I finally exhaled and laid next to him, facing him.

It felt so weird to be this close, but at the same time, natural. Like I was supposed to be there.

Scott had this expression like he was thinking about something else entirely. I only had to take one guess to know what, or who, it was.

Stiles.

"We're going to save him," I told him. "We'll figure it out. We always do."

Barely lifting his head, Scott came closer, his eyes on my lips. I felt as if I couldn't move. Like I didn't want to.

So I was surprised at myself that I let him kiss me lightly. What surprised me even more . . . I found myself kissing back.

Even while it felt . . .different, good, my body and mind was still reflective and rejective, but something stronger than both said it was okay. My soul or heart, which sounded ridiculous even in my own mind, but it was true.

And again with the war inside of my body, heart and mind.

Scott pulled away. I felt disappointed yet relieved as he smiled a tiny smile at me.

Feeling content, I could have a small smile, not a smirk, but a small, real smile too as I turned to my other side, facing away from him.

For six years, I'd been protecting myself because that had been the only one I'd needed for protection.

But as Scott gently laid his arm around my waist, I felt strangely protected. Safe. Just fine with the moment I was in. For the first time in I didn't know how long.

My voice was soft, barely above a whisper as I asked with my eyes closed, "This apart of your plan to convince me to stay?"

"Maybe," Scott answered, sounding like he had a small smile. I knew that meant a yes. "Is it working?"

I still had a small smile, but it was small enough to where I could barely feel it. "Maybe."

*

They found Stiles.

Aiden and Scott were carrying him to the couch in Scott's living room now. "The couch, put him on the couch."

They both put him on the couch as I stood next to Lydia, Scott's mother, Melissa, standing next to Deaton.

"Guys, this is crazy," Melissa said. "He needs to be in the hospital."

"Mom, remember what happened the last time he went to the hospital?" Scott asked.

Deaton pulled Stiles' shirt above his wound to look at it clearly. "Doesn't look like he's bleeding. I think he might even be healing."

"You mean healing like we heal?" I asked.

"That's good, right?" Scott asked.

"For him, yes," Deaton answered. "Us?" He looked back at us. "I'm not so sure."

We all looked at Stiles.

*

"Well, if we're not gonna kill him, can we at least tie him down with really big chains?" Aiden asked.

"I might have something more effective," Deaton told us, pulling out a vial.

He looked from Scott to me. We both stepped forward, holding him down and I held his jaw to hold his mouth open as Deaton dripped an entire tube full into Stiles' mouth.

Stiles woke, trying to tear my hand away, grabbing my throat. I pulled at his hand, but it didn't budge, Stiles laughing evilly as Scott helped me tear his hand away.

I stepped back, glaring as Stiles' hands and body stopped moving. "Kanima venom. Nice touch."

Aiden looked from me to Stiles as I growled.

"Oh, bad little girl Tara," Stiles said. "So, so bad." His gaze slipped to Aiden. "You know how they say the twins get a feeling if the other one's in pain? You didn't lose that talent, too, did you? Oh, I hope not. You're going to need it." No one answered. "Okay, I'll give a little hint. Ethan's at the school."

"Go," Scott told Aiden.

Aiden was already leaving, Stiles' gaze following as Stiles laughed demonically. "Oh, I hope he gets there in time. I like the twins." He looked back toward us. "Short tempers. Homicidal compulsions. They're a lot more fun than you bankemono trying to save the world every day." His gaze slipped to me again. "You're not like them, though, are you? No, you're just a little girl with raging anger, trust and abandonment issues, aren't you, Tara? I mean, it makes sense. You did have to watch your entire family burn to ash. Well, most of them, anyway." I made my expression unreadable, but he was making me angrier as I saw flashes, memories of the fire. "A nine year old trapped in a burning house, having to lose all but four people in one day. Actually, you thought Cora didn't get out either. You didn't see her get out, but you didn't see her burn." He was clearly enjoying every second of this. "Though I suppose you deserve some credit. You put your cousin out of her misery, to spare her the pain. Peter got burned because he saved you, leaving you with that guilt too. But he killed Laura, didn't he? Tried to kill you and Derek. Tried to talk Derek into kill Cora." Scott tried to say something, but Stiles kept going, overriding his voice. "Speaking of, Derek knew the girl who tried to have you and the rest of your family killed, but he didn't tell you. That was the reason you didn't trust him for the longest time, wasn't it? Derek killed Peter. You tried to. How does it feel, hmm? How does it feel to not trust or to hate the remainder of your family?"

Scott put his hand on my shoulder as I took a deep breath, turning away as Stiles called after me, "You've changed, Tara. A year ago, you would've killed me by now. Or at least hit me. Love's making you weak. Or is it making you confused. Like your own little World War |||, going from stone cold and lifeless to being whatever it is you are now."

Scott followed me as his mother said, "Doc, you brought something to paralyze his body. You got anything for his mouth?"

"Yes, I do," Deaton answered, ripping tape off of the roll, Stiles chuckling as Deaton taped his mouth.

Stiles shouted through the tape, giggling as he looked over all of us. Like he was still in control even if he couldn't move.

*

"How much longer do you think we have?" Scott asked Deaton.

"I wish I knew," Deaton said. "But if we don't figure out something soon, we're going to need to find a better place to keep him. I think we were grossly underestimating the danger here. He might be paralyzed, but it still feels like he's got us right in the palm of his hand."

*

"The scroll said to change his body," I said.

"That's if I translated it correctly," Deaton said, turning to face us. "We're looking for a cure in something that might actually not be more than a proverb or a metaphor."

"And what if he doesn't want it?" Scott asked. "He's never asked to be a werewolf."

"What if it saves his life?" Lydia asked.

"What if it kills him? I've never done this before. I mean, what if I bite him and I accidentally hit an artery or something?

"That venom is not going to last long," Deaton told us. "Something needs to be done sooner than later."

"I can try calling Derek again," I told them, looking down at my phone.

"Maybe we should call someone else," Lydia said.

I looked at her, wondering who. She tiled her head, knowing that I would get it

Not my brother. My uncle.

I gave her a seriously look.

Peter? Really?

I guessed so.

I had called him, he had come, ringing the door bell as someone opened the door for my psychotic, sociopathic uncle.

*

Peter was walking around Stiles, watching him critically. "He doesn't look like he would survive a slap in the face, much less the bite of a werewolf."

He stood in front of him as Scott asked, "You don't think it would work?"

"This is more a war with the mind than the body," Peter said. Did he have to say it like that? Stiles and Scott looked toward me, all of remembering the words Stiles had said about my personal World War |||, which he was completely right about. Peter didn't seem to notice. "There are better methods to winning this battle."

"What kind of methods?" Deaton asked.

Peter took Scott's arm, thrusting it forward and making his claws appear. "We're going to get in his head."

*

Lydia and Peter had been talking alone but now they came back in.

"So, we have a plan?" I asked.

"Scott is going to try to dig through sickly and pale Evil Stiles' mind to unearth pale and sickly Real Stiles," Peter answered. "Then guide him back from the depths of his own subconscious. But he's not going to do it alone."

"What do you mean?" Scott asked.

"Somebody needs to go in with you."

With each word, Peter slowly looked to Lydia. Stiles turned his head to follow his gaze.

*

Lydia was sitting next to Stiles now, Scott and Peter standing behind them as Peter lined Scott's claws to Stiles' neck.

"So what do we do if we find him?" Scott asked.

"You're gonna have to guide him out somehow," Peter answered. He lined the claws to Lydia's neck. "Try to give him back control of his mind, his body."

"Could you elaborate on the 'somehow'?" Lydia asked. "It's not feeling very specific at the moment."

"Improvise," Peter said, stepping back, clearly not knowing the answer himself.

"What if this is another trick?" I asked.

"When are you people going to start trusting me?" Peter asked. "Family's bad enough to lack trust, Tara. If you don't trust me, how can they?"

I looked from Peter to Stiles. "I meant him."

"Oh."

"Scott, we're running out of time," Deaton told him.

Scott inhaled, looking to me. I nodded for him to go on, his eyes glowing red when his claws pierced into Stiles and Lydia's necks.

*

Blood started to drip down from Lydia's nose.

"Look at that," Melissa said. "Do you see that? She's bleeding."

Peter knelt in front of Lydia, but Deaton held Melissa back. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Lydia?" Peter asked. "Lydia, can you hear me? Lydia, you are stronger than this. Okay, you need to concentrate. Lydia. Lydia!"

*

Finally, Scott and Lydia came back, both of them gasping.

Scott walked closer to me and Peter. "Did it work? Did it work?"

Lydia stood, walking closer to us as Scott knelt next to Stiles. "What happened? Why didn't it work?"

"Because it's not science, Lydia," Peter said. "It's supernatural." He turned to completely face her. "I did my part. Now give me the name."

"What name?" I asked. "What are you talking about?"

Neither answered, Peter pulling Lydia to the back of the room, talking in a hushed voice, but I listened in anyway. "Lydia, a deal is a deal. Even with me."

Lydia hesitated, looking toward Scott and me as Scott stood, looking at them too. Lydia whispered into Peter's ear, "Malia."

Why did Peter want to know the name of a werecoyote?

Stiles woke, pulling off the tape quickly and pulling out a long, shady colored string, a cloth, falling to the floor. He kept pulling with the rest of us watching until it was all out of the floor. He gasped for air, sitting back against the couch.

Slowly, a hand reached above the cloth, wrapped in it. It kept rising from the floor until a whole body appeared, trying to take off the stringed cloth before it came toward us.

Lydia screamed, Peter and I pushing it into the couch, holding it down, but it tried to fight back.

"Hold him," Peter told me.

"I'm trying," I said.

The body tried to pull off the cloth again.

"Wait, wait, wait," Scott told us, stepping closer to us.

He pulled the cloth away from the body's face to reveal another Stiles.

"Scott?" Stiles asked as Peter and I backed away.

"Scott," Deaton said, making us turn around.

The other Stiles and Lydia were no where in sight.

"Where are they?" Scott asked. No one answered. He raised his voice to a demanding yell, "Where are they?" Still no one answered. "Lydia!" He ran to the door and out, but we could still hear him. "Lydia! Lydia!"

Why would the other Stiles take Lydia? How were there two?

And which was which?