Scott, Stiles, Lydia and I arrived back in Beacon Hills, in the parking lot of Deaton's clinic in the middle of the night in the pouring rain.

We hurried to my teenage brother inside the Camaro, wrapped in a blanket. I got the door open, Scott carrying him over his shoulder, both of us following Stiles and Lydia inside.

Deaton cleared a table so we could set Derek on top. "Wow."

"Wow?" Stiles repeated. "Wow, as in, 'I've seen this before and I know exactly what to do' kind of wow? 'Cause that's the kind of wow we were hoping for."

"I think you might be overestimating my abilities," Deaton told him.

Lydia held Derek's hand. "He's cold. Really cold."

"Do you think this is permanent?" I asked, Deaton shining a flashlight over Derek's unconscious features.

Turning off the light, Deaton looked at me. "I'm not sure a medical diagnosis is even adequate. This is well beyond my experience."

"So what do we do with him?" Stiles asked.

"Until he wakes up?" Deaton asked. "Probably not much. It might be best to leave him with me. He'll be safe here."

"You mean from Kate?" I asked, gazing off.

Deaton looked at me. "If she's alive and she is what you say she is, she won't be able to walk past the gate."

"Why would she want to do this to him?" Lydia asked.

"Knowing Kate, it's probably for a reason that won't be any good for anyone but her," I told them, a little bit bitter and angry that the woman who tried to have my entire family burned alive, with me in the fire.

Stiles scoffed. "And bad for everyone else."

"You guys should probably go home," Deaton told us. "He doesn't look to be in any danger. So maybe the rest of you should get some sleep? It is a school night. And you all need to start taking care of your own lives again."

"Somebody should stay with you," Scott said.

"I'll do it," I told him. "I don't even go to school."

Scott shook his head. I raised my eyebrows at him as if to ask oh, really? "Well, what I mean is, you need to finish healing. You and Derek have tons of stuff for healing at the loft. All I'm saying is it'd be a good idea to use it."

"He's not wrong, Tara," Deaton told me.

I exhaled, looking at Derek on the table.

Lydia was still holding his hand. "I'll stay. My grades are fine. Despite missing a few classes."

Stiles shook his head. "I'm so not okay with this."

Lydia looked at him. "Guys, go."

"No," Stiles told her.

Lydia looked at me and Scott on the other side of her.

"Text us if anything happens," Scott told her, both of us starting to walk around her.

"Nope, still not okay with it," Stiles said. I pushed him toward the door. "All right, just 'cause you're stronger . . ."

*

As promised, I had stayed at home, healing, sleeping it off.

The dream I was dreaming was actually a memory.

It was when Scott had brought me here last night, me driving the Camaro but with him in the passenger seat.

"You didn't have to escort me home," I told him as I stopped the car. "Yes, I know going after the Calaveras was stupid. But so was your plan to save me. It nearly got everyone killed. That's why I didn't ask for your help in the beginning. You can be mad about it all you want, but I was only trying to save Derek while protecting you."

Scott looked at me. "I'm not mad, Tara, but . . . surprised." Hesitating, he looked away, then back at me. "Listen, there's something I gotta tell you . . ." Again, he hesitated, this hesitation longer than the last. I looked at him, waiting for him to go on. "I'm just glad you're okay. Even though you nearly died trying to protect Lydia and me, you got through it. Like you always do."

I exhaled. "Enough, Scott. Like you said, we all need to go home and rest and heal and try to figure out a way to turn my teenage brother back into my old brother."

"What changed your mind?" Scott asked.

I looked at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, I mean, before all this happened, you wouldn't even allow this," Scott answered, slowly, gently taking my hand in his. "You pushed it away. So, what changed your mind?"

"Maybe because I was captured, tortured and on the brink of death for two months," I said. "Just sort of sad to say that's what changed my mind."

Scott smiled a small smile. "I don't think so."

I looked away, shaking my head with a small smile.

*

And I woke up on the couch in the loft, seeing sunlight pour through the windows.

My cell phone vibrating on the table was what woke me up.

I sat up quickly, taking it and reading the text from Scott telling me where Derek would be.

I was already getting up and heading for the door.

*

When I got to the Sheriff's station, the first person I saw was Stilinski.

"Tara, please tell me there's no such thing as time travel," Stilinski told me.

I gave him a weird look. "There's no such thing as time travel."

"Thank God," Stilinski said, gesturing a hand toward his office. "He's in there."

"Thanks," I said, walking past him, opening the door and inside.

Scott was finishing what he was saying to Derek. "  . . .as soon as we find out how to get your memories back."

When they saw me, they all looked at me.

Derek stood up. "Tara."

"Hey," I said as he walked closer, wrapping his arms around me. Scott and Stiles gave us a weird look because they hadn't seen this side of Derek before. Hesitating, I did the same. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Derek answered, pulling back, but his hands laid on my arms. "Are you? What happened to you? Last time I saw you, you were almost nine." I took a deep breath. He didn't remember the fire. Or Lucy, the human cousin I had to put out of her misery so she didn't die so slowly . . . "They told me about the fire, they said our family had to move out of town."

I looked at Scott and Stiles in confused suspicion. Scott looked guilty. Stiles shook his head, slicing a hand across his neck, telling me not to say anything.

Our family didn't move out of town.

They died.

Derek didn't notice anything wrong. "They said they knew you, but I didn't know if I should trust them."

I looked back at him. "If I trust them, you can trust them."

Derek gave me a confused look, his eyes glowing blue. I knew why. When he saw me in the red tinted vision, the only things that weren't red were my eyes. They would be blue, the color they glowed when I shifted. The last time he saw me, according to him, was when I was eight, almost nine, and then, I had had gold eyes.

The blue glow faded from Derek's eyes. "Your eyes changed. Why? Who? How?"

Stiles shook his head more fiercely.

I was getting a little more annoyed, but I took a deep breath, looking back at Derek. "Look, do you trust me?"

"More than anyone," Derek answered.

"Then let me fix this," I told him.

I had had the same exact conversation with older Derek when we had been looking for Isaac, Boyd and Erica. Only, he had been asking if I trusted him.

Derek hesitated, looking at Scott and Stiles, then back at me, exhaling. "Okay."

*

"You really lied to him about what really happened to our family?" I asked skeptically, looking at Scott and Stiles.

"I know, I shouldn't have done it," Scott said regretfully. "I lied my ass off."

"Hey, your ass is fine," Stiles told him. He gave me a taunting smirk. "You think so, too, Tare?"

I gave him a glare, letting my fist fall smoothly and hit against the end of an incense holder on the desk, making it richochet off the desk, lightly hitting Stiles' face, not even to hurt him that badly.

Stiles stumbled backwards. "Whoa!" Scott closed his eyes, hanging his head. "Look, he saved him a ton of unnecessary pain. We'll figure this out in a day or two, he goes back to being old Derek, everyone's happy. Except you and Derek, who are never happy."

"He's just another person we're lying to," Scott said. "And I just always like it better when we tell the truth. With Lydia, my mom, your dad."

"Yeah, but that is Derek Hale in there," Stiles said. "He may be a kid right now, but he's still Derek Hale."

"All right," Scott said. He looked at Stiles. "Take him to my house and don't let him out of your sight."

I was already starting to walk away.

Stiles turned after me. "And where are you going, you insane, psychotic, bipolar midgit, violent Hale?"

I gave him a sarcastic but bitter look, still backing away. "I'm going to call the guy I don't ever like to ask help from and tell him to meet at the loft."

"What guy?" Stiles asked.

"The guy we should've gone to before," I answered.

My insane, psychotic uncle Peter.

"Oh, that guy," Scott said, starting to follow me. "I'll, uh, I'll help."

Stiles looked after me. "Uh . . . I hate that guy."

I turned around, still walking away. "Everybody hates that guy."

*

Like last night, Scott and I rode up to the loft in the Camaro.

Scott looked at me. "Listen, uh, there's actually something I need to tell you about Peter that I didn't get the chance to tell you before you were captured, tortured and on the brink of death for two months, and I don't know if you know about it yet or not . . ."

"Can you just let that go?" I asked as he looked away. "And is now really the right time? We kind of have something to do." He didn't answer, leaning forward in confusion, looking out of the windsheild. "Scott?"

"Malia's here," Scott answered, opening the door and getting out of the car. I opened my door, Scott shutting his as I got out, shutting mine, both of us walking closer to Malia. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you were coming to talk to Peter," Malia answered. "And since Lydia tells me he's basically Satan in a V-neck, I figured you shouldn't be alone."

I took a few steps forward. "I can handle my uncle."

"You both can handle him better with me," Malia replied, turning around and walking ahead of us.

I looked at Scott, who awkwardly shook his head. I sighed, walking forward. He slowly followed.

*

"What's wrong with you?" I asked Scott as we got up to the loft.

"Nothing," Scott lied.

"Your heart's pounding like crazy," I said. "You want to try the lie again?"

"Maybe he's just nervous," Malia said.

"Or maybe he's just bad at introductions," Peter said from the couch, a book in his hands. He looked at me. "You tell me to meet here a while ago, and you're just now getting home. Is there a reason?"

"You have no idea what happened to her, do you?" Malia asked. "Do you even care?"

Peter looked at her. "And who might you be?"

"Peter . . ." Scott trailed off. "This is Malia."

The book fell out of Peter's hands. He slowly stood, looking at Malia. "Beautiful eyes. Did you get them from your father?"

Malia gave him a weird look. "Mother."

"Interesting," Peter said. I looked from Malia to Peter. "Anyway, I'm sure they've told you a lot about me."

"The homicidal killing spree came up," Malia said.

"Well, we're all works in progress," Peter said.

"Well, when you progress to your next killing spree, why don't you try and make sure they all stay dead?" I asked.

Peter looked at me. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"What do you know about people being turned by a scratch?" Scott asked.

"Did you scratch someone, Scott?" Peter asked. Scott shook his head. "Don't worry about it, the claws have to go pretty deep."

"But it's possible," I said, stressing the words a little bit to get Peter to see what we were talking about. "Like if you clawed out someone's throat."

Peter nodded in acknowledgment, looking at Scott and Malia as he gestured to me. "Well, yeah, she's right, it's possible. It's also beyond rare."

I took a step forward. "Clawing out someone's throat, making sure victims stay dead . . . Do we really need to spell this one out for you?"

"What?" Peter asked innocently, still not getting it. "We're talking one in a  . . ." I leaned my head forward. Peter looked away in anger as he finally figured out who we were talking about. "Million."

*

Peter was facing away from us. "Can't someone in this town stay dead?"

"I think they were hoping you would," Malia told him.

"Do you have any idea why Kate would turn Derek into a teenager again?" Scott asked.

"What color were his eyes?" Peter asked.

"Blue," I answered. "After Paige."

"Which could mean around the time he first met Kate," Peter told us.

"Derek and Kate knew each other?" Scott asked.

"Biblically," Peter said, turning to face us.

"Yeah, that was a nice little surprise for me too," I told them.

"That's right, Scott," Peter told him. "You weren't the first wolf to climb into a hunter's bed before turning to another wolf."

As Peter finished, he looked at me.

I tilted my head with a subtle glare.

Couldn't Peter learn when it was time to shut the hell up?

*

"Okay, Derek went to the site of the house thinking it was still there, right?" Peter asked.

"Yeah," I answered. "He thought that I was an eight, almost nine year old with gold eyes, which means he doesn't remember the fire or what I did to Lucy."

"What you did for Lucy," Peter told me. "But if he doesn't remember the fire, then he doesn't remember that it was Kate that set it."

"So what does that mean?" Malia asked.

"Kate didn't just take him back to being a teenager," Peter answered. "She took him back to the age where he still knew her. When he still trusted her."

Oh . . .

Kate was after something, and she was gonna use Derek to get it.

*

Scott called Stiles to warn him.

"No, he's in your bedroom, he'll be totally fine. To be honest, I'm starting to miss the old Derek. So, if you actually think that Kate's coming to find him . . . You might be right."

Kate already got to Derek.

*

Peter and I were already heading for the door.

"Wait," Scott told us.

"For what?" I asked, turning back to him. "Kate's out there twisting her way into Derek's head yet again. We need to find her."

"All we need's a scent," Malia said.

Scott walked closer. "That could take hours. If we want to get ahead of her, we need to figure out where she's going."

"Not to underestimate my own cognitive faculties, but we're not exactly a brain trust of geniuses here," Peter said.

Scott held up his phone. "Then maybe we should call one."

Lydia. She answered. "We called Stilinski. They're on their way."

"What does it look like?" Scott asked. "Can you send pictures?"

"Uh, okay." Lydia cleared her throat. "To be honest, I have a 4.0 in AP Biology, and there are parts of the human anatomy I have never seen before on these walls."

Scott held out his phone for all of us to see the brutalized body.

"Why would she want to kill a gas station attendant?" Malia asked.

"I don't think she could help it," I said. "This was done in a frenzy. It's not a murder. It's a symptom."

"Of what?" Malia asked.

"She can't control the shift," Scott realized. "Derek said he had the same issue on the full moon. That he was still learning."

"Kate's still learning?" Malia asked.

"She wants to learn," Peter answered.

"So she wants Derek to teach her?" Malia asked.

"No," I said, looking at Peter  both of us realizing it at the same time. "She wants the Triskelion."

The Triskelion was a small, round silver circle with a triskele on it, an object that helped teach born werewolves how to control the shift.

It was in a vault that was under the school.

*

Peter, Scott, Malia and I ran up the stairs when Malia stopped, making us turn back to her.

"Did you catch a scent?" Scott asked.

"It's the same one," Malia told us. "The same one as Mexico."

"What is she talking about?" Peter asked.

"One of them came after us in The Church ruins," I said.

"And one on the road," Malia added. "They couldn't have followed us here."

"But they could've been brought, by Kate," Scott said.

We heard the same growling we heard in the ruins.

"Oh, I've heard that sound before," Peter told us. He looked at me behind him. "You're faster than any of us, get to the vault, help Derek." I didn't answer. "Now!"

Scott looked back at me, nodding.

I exhaled, turning around and running toward the vault.

*

Kate held the Triskelion in her hand. "This is it? You're sure?"

"Yeah," Derek answered.

"It doesn't look like much," Kate said.

"That's 'cause it isn't," I told them, walking closer. They both looked at me. I heard Peter above us, running closer to the entrance of the vault underneath the Beacon Hills High School sign. "Quite the elaborate scheme you have here, Kate. Two countries, Aztec temples, Derek returned to a teenager. One that trusted you. One that loved you."

Peter was walking down the stairs, his voice making us look back at him. "All this complication just to gain access to our vault. Just to get your hands on that little piece of junk. Turn it over. Go ahead. There's a scrape on the back where it used to say 'Made in China'."

"You're lying," Kate told him.

"I admit, I have a tendency to exaggerate things," Peter told us. "But in this case, the truth is so much more fun. Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart, that little pendant is just a physical object to focus on. It's training wheels. Talia used it to teach Laura. I tried to use it to teach Derek. Laura wanted to use it to teach Tara, but Tara wasn't fond of the Triskelion."

We all heard the loud roar from Scott.

I looked from the door to Peter in suspicion. "What did you do?"

"I knew that if you knew what those things from Mexico were, you'd never left them," Peter answered. "You'd gotten yourself killed trying to fight them."

"What are they?" I asked. He didn't answer. I raised my voice to a demanding yell. "What are they?"

Berserkers.

*

I had already taken off from the vault as Derek followed just as quickly.

Peter was right.

The giant animal skin-wearing montrous things with animal skulls covering their heads, like human, only not human so much anymore were definitely Berserkers.

And both from Mexico were here.

Malia, Scott and Kira were on the ground, weak and beaten.

I slowed to a stop in front of Derek as the Berserkers turned to us. "Remember how Peter taught you?"

"Anger," Derek answered. "I just need help to stay angry."

"Then I'll help you get angry," I told him before we started to fight.

Derek slashed at both of the Berserkers as they stepped even closer.

As one tried to slash me, I ducked and spun under its arm, spinning onto my hands to kick him back.

Derek slashed at the other again.

*

Malia, Scott and Kira were still on the ground, watching as we fought against the Berserkers.

A Berserker pushed Derek to the ground, the other pushing me into the lockers.

"I can't!" Derek said.

"Yes, you can!" I told him as he tried to shift, his face changing, blurring, almost like he was trying to change back. "Focus on it. Use it."

Even as I spoke and fought, I was getting angrier. I saw Derek getting angrier.

The Berserker tried to close in one me. I pushed away from the lockers, making it miss me and hit against the lockers.

The other pushed Derek back down. He tried to shift. He looked a little like older Derek before going back to young Derek.

It was working in more than one way.

The anger was making him older Derek again.

"It's working," I told him. As the one I was fighting slashed toward me, I ducked underneath, my feet sliding against the concrete until my hand touched the ground. "Use all of the rage and hatred you need to survive."

I stood, catching the Berserker's wrist over my head, using it to spin out of under him, standing behind him when I stopped.

Derek looked back at the Berserker, standing, kicking him back. As the Berserker backed toward me, I grabbed its shoulders, turning around and pushing him with all the strength I had toward the other Berserker, making them both stumble back.

*

I ducked under the claws of one Berserker, slashing upward, spinning behind him, turning to face him and kicking him into the lockers with a loud bang.

Derek managed to get the other on the concrete, his hands on his back as he cartwheeled over his body, slashing into him.

A loud screech made both of the Berserkers stop fighting us.

They both ran away.

*

Derek was standing, looking in the direction the Berserkers had run away. He didn't look at us.

Behind me, Malia, Scott and Kira stood from the ground.

I took a step closer to my brother. "Derek?"

Slowly, Derek turned to face us.

And it was older Derek. No longer young Derek.

The anger and rage and hatred turned him back.

Or that was what I thought.

When Derek looked up, his eyes were glowing gold, surprising even me.

Why were his eyes gold again?