[3x14; More Bad Than Good]

When Scott had waltzed into Stiles' bedroom and said, "We're going to find a dead body," Stiles had expected the night to go much like that one night, not so long ago. Thankfully, his best friend was the alpha in this situation and Scott definitely wasn't going to bite him. Also, this time, the dead body was not one of Olivia's relatives—which he considered a blessing. She'd be so pissed if she knew he was looking for one of her dead relatives.

Actually, she'd probably be pissed that he was going to look for a dead body at all. He could picture it; she'd have a lecture all set and ready for him, but he'd get distracted by her beauty and then distract her. And then, well, what happened next would be private—for no one but him and Olivia.

The sharp snap of a stick under Scott's shoe brought him out of his fantasy of a night spent between Olivia's thighs. Yeah, he should probably be paying attention to where they were going.

"You know, if my dad's right, that means there's another werewolf in town that we haven't met yet," Stiles brought up the elephant in the room—er, woods. The only reason they were coming out to look for a dead body was because Noah thought that the accident that killed the women of the Tate family had been caused by a werewolf.

The theory had some substance; after all, the accident took place on the night of a full moon.

"I know," Scott was paying more attention to the GPS on his phone, but Stiles didn't mind. They had to get to the site of the wreck somehow and neither of them knew the woods that well.

"If it turns out to be something like triplets that form into, like, a fucking three-headed hound of hell, I'm seriously not up for that."

"Yeah, me either," Scott sighed in agreement. "Especially if I can't even control my own transformation anymore."

Eventually, they came across a ravine, close to where the accident should have been. They would have to climb down a few feet of stone and dirt, but it was doable for the both of them. It wasn't like it was Mount Everest or some shit.

A howl echoed through the air, making Stiles flinch. He flinched so violently that he accidently bumped into Scott, causing the phone—and GPS—to go flying out of his friend's hands, into the ravine below. It was just their luck that it had recently rained, because the phone had sunk down into a puddle.

"Fuck, sorry, dude," Stiles grimaced, looking from the phone and the puddle to Scott's annoyed face. "I hate coyotes so much. They always sound like they're mauling some tiny, helpless animal."

Amused, Scott scoffed and jumped down into the ravine. While he grabbed the phone from the puddle, Stiles got to work on following him down. He slipped and slid a little on the way, but he managed to get into the ravine no problem. Yeah, it was nothing like Mount Everest.

"It still works," Scott informed him, showing Stiles his phone, which was apparently waterproof.

Stiles only glanced at the phone, as the beam of Scott's flashlight had caught something that intrigued him. He grabbed the flashlight from Scott's hand and crept forward, following the light to where an old car lay, upside down and ultimately destroyed.

"I think we found it."

Scott walked over to him, looking at the wrecked car in confusion. "Uh, why wouldn't they move it? Isn't it evidence?"

"Probably too much of a pain in the ass to tow out," Stiles studied the vehicle. Its windows were long gone, probably from the crash, the tires had been scavenged, and thankfully, there was no blood from the accident. There was, however, claw marks scratched down the car, imprinting the metal. "Look at this. See those?"

Scott nodded and shifted closer to the car. He put his own hand on the marks, surprised that they were a match in width and height.

"Animal claws would be closer together, right?" Stiles prompted. "A lot closer."

"It was a werewolf," Scott agreed.

"So my dad was right."

A hint of pride bubbled in Stiles' gut at the thought of his dad taking all of this supernatural shit in stride. He just wished that the reason wasn't because Agent McCall was out to get him impeached from his job. Still, at least his dad would know that this case was closed, even if it meant that a werewolf had decimated a family.

Stiles dropped to his stomach and flashed the light through one of the windows so he could see into the vehicle. He just wanted to make sure that there was nothing wrong going on down there. It wasn't until Scott kneeled down next to him and pointed something out did he see something.

He pulled the doll out of the vehicle and got to his feet, Scott following. They stared at the doll, a basic one that most little girls would have to play with, when out of nowhere, it spoke.

"I'm hungry!"

Stiles shouted and threw the doll away from him, so scared that he lost his balance. Scott stared at him in shock, but Stiles felt vindicated. There was no way he wouldn't have screamed from that fucking doll speaking out of nowhere. It was out of a fucking horror movie.

He inhaled deeply and pressed a palm against his chest. "I think I just had a minor heart attack."

Scott sighed heavily in agreement before pausing. Stiles saw the dangerous look on his face and stood still, his heart starting to race when he heard the low growl come from the other side of the car.

"Stiles," Scott reached for Stiles; he shakily joined his friend. "Please tell me you see that."

Stiles stared in the direction where Scott was, spotting the coyote within seconds.

Shit, shit, shit, he cursed himself. Oh, we are so fucked.

He didn't voice his fear, though his voice did shake when he answered Scott, "I see it."

And then Scott was off, chasing after the coyote.

"Wait, hey, Scott!" he yelled after his best friend. "Scott, wait!"

What was the fucking point of running after a fucking coyote?! If anything, Scott needed to stay by Stiles' side as they left, so he could protect them. Without Scott around, who knew if another coyote would come around and eat him. And also, Scott could get hurt as well. If he couldn't control his transformation, how was he supposed to go up against a fucking coyote.

God, I hate coyotes so fucking much.

He couldn't just stand there and wait for Scott to come back—if he came back at all. He supposed he should at least take a look around the area to see if he could find any hint that Malia Tate had been killed around here. The sight of a coyote by the wreck almost confirmed her death. Though her body wasn't found with her mother and sister's bodies, she couldn't have survived for long out in the woods by herself, with coyotes around. It was sad, but it was the truth.

He walked slowly and with purpose as he aimed the flashlight in front of him. He slowly made his way to the opposite side of the ravine, secretly hoping that Scott would come back soon so they could get the hell out of there, and tried to find anything that stood out. He was about to leave and head back to the site of the wreck when the flashlight caught a shadow of an opening in the stones in the ravine wall.

He raised an eyebrow in realization; a coyote den.

He didn't want to explore the den without Scott, so he made his way back to the wreck. He was halfway back when he crossed a tree and ran smack dab into Scott. There may have been some frightened screaming on both sides, but they would never mention it to anyone.

"I think I found something," Stiles blurted out once he was sure he wasn't going to die of a heart attack.

Scott nodded. "So did I. I think that coyote I followed is Malia."

"Malia Tate? Come this way," Stiles led Scott toward the den. "The girl who wasn't found..."

"Exactly," Scott nodded. "She's like me—well, not like me, because I don't change into a wolf."

"Maybe it's like Derek's mom," Stiles suggested, his mind racing a mile a minute as they walked. "She could turn into a four-legged wolf. Maybe werecoyotes can too."

"I can't believe werecoyotes are a thing now."

"Me neither."

Together, they climbed up the ravine wall and entered the den. While Stiles hadn't known that the coyote was Malia, it didn't surprise him to see an old jacket that would fit a nine-year-old girl, as well as a couple of shoes, a scarf, and a patterned blanket. They were all dirty from age and time in the den, but still recognizable.

"You see this?" Stiles picked up the blue jacket. "This is Malia's. Remember, it's the same one she was wearing in the photo."

Scott nodded, recognizing the garment, before hesitating. "We shouldn't be here."

Stiles gave him a look of confusion. "What do you mean?"

"She's not going to come back now," Scott explained. "We just invaded her home. Our scents are gonna be everywhere."

"Shit," Stiles sighed in realization, his eyes landing on an old teddy bear. "Well, if she's not going to come back here, where's she going to go?"

"I don't know."

"Can you track her now?" Stiles asked Scott, his eyes still wandering around the den. "You think you got her scent?"

"Maybe, but I'm better at this when I'm a full wolf," Scott sighed. "And I'm still worried that if I do it, I won't be able to turn back."

Stiles remembered what Deaton had told them earlier that day; when the three of them underwent the sacrifice, they had opened a door to their minds. That was why he, Scott, and Allison were having such a hard time with things.

"The door's still open," he stated; Scott nodded. "Well, what if Olivia helps you?"

Scott nodded. "And if that doesn't work, I'll ask Derek if he can help," he sighed heavily and looked around the den. "This is basically a crime scene, right? I think it might be a little out of Deaton's league."

"And more my dad's," Stiles finished his thought.

Yeah, he already dreaded trying to get his dad to understand what had happened to Malia Tate.

-

-

"How much are we talking here? I'm not doing it for any less than ten."

"Ten thousand?" Olivia hissed into her phone, eyes narrowed.

"And if you want the older one alive, I'm thinking fifteen."

"You want fifteen thousand dollars to rescue Derek and Peter?" Olivia lowered her voice when the girl who had the locker a few feet down from her gave her a weary look. "Did Morrell give you this much to get to Isaac?"

"I don't talk about previous contracts," Braeden, the girl who had rescued Isaac from the alpha pack at the beginning of the school year, snapped through the receiver. "And we're talking about the Calaveras here. I'm not going in for under fifteen."

Well, when she put it like that...

"All right, fine," Olivia sighed, digging into her purse for the checkbook she kept on her. Luckily, Peter had decided to start giving her child support and had given her access to his bank account. She rattled off his account information while glancing at the clock on the wall; she had two minutes to get to class. "If it doesn't go through right away, it'll need Peter's approval."

"That's hardly getting paid upfront," Braeden argued.

"Well, I don't have fifteen thousand dollars in my bank account," Olivia rolled her eyes. "Peter's good for the money, he just might have to authorize the payment. Are we gonna do this or not?"

It was silent for a few seconds on Braeden's end. "Fine," she finally decided. "I'll head there now. I'll make contact when I pick up the packages."

Olivia furrowed her eyebrows. "Why are you talking like a UPS worker?"

Braeden sighed. "Goodbye, Olivia."

"Bye."

Olivia slammed her locker shut and rushed toward her history class, cursing Braeden for getting back to her right as the warning bell rang. She slid into the classroom with a minute to spare and headed right into the back corner of the room where Stiles, Scott, and Allison were huddled around Stiles' iPad.

"Here's where we found the den," Stiles pointed out to Allison as Olivia walked over to them. "It's right in the middle of the hiking trails."

"Well, that could narrow it down," Allison said thoughtfully. "Coyotes travel in fixed trails. But, I think you're right about her not going back to the den. Coyotes don't like wolves."

"And they're really smart," Olivia piped in; she didn't know what they were talking about, but she never brushed off a time to show off her brilliance. "If they don't want to be heard, they actually walk on their toes."

Stiles gave her a surprised look. "Coyotes tiptoe?"

Olivia shared an amused look with Allison. "Yeah, they tiptoe."

"Wow."

The bell rang, announcing the start of class.

"I got to go," Allison said hurriedly. "but send me the pinned location."

Stiles nodded and she ran off, hurrying to her class. Once Scott had started to head to his seat, Olivia confronted Stiles, still a little confused about what he and their friends had been talking about.

"So, what was that about?"

"Okay, so, you know how I told you that Scott's dad is trying to get my dad fired?"

"No."

He hadn't said anything about that, in actuality. Agent McCall was trying to fire Sheriff Stilinski? How was that even possible? She was pretty sure the FBI didn't have jurisdiction over local police forces—or they did, and she just didn't know about it.

"Right, sorry, I forgot," Stiles winced. "Anyway, McCall is trying to get my dad impeached, so Dad's been going through old cases. Since he knows now, he figured a set of fresh eyes might do some good. He found a case, this family had died in a car accident on the full moon and he thinks a werewolf did it."

It was a lot to take in at once, especially since Stiles was speaking a million miles per hour, but somehow, she managed. "So did a werewolf do it?"

"Not exactly," Stiles whispered as they took their seats. "it turns out that their oldest daughter, Malia, is a werecoyote."

Olivia blinked slowly. "A werecoyote."

"Yes, and she accidently caused the accident," Stiles finished up his story. "So, Scott and I went out to the wreck last night and Scott found Malia."

"...but as a coyote?"

"Yes, exactly," Stiles nodded excitedly. "So, now we're trying to find a way to get Malia to turn back into a girl."

"Oh, my God," she sighed. "You found this all out in one night?"

"Yeah," Stiles smiled casually. "What'd you do last night?"

"I had a dream about Derek and Peter, so I hired a mercenary to find them."

Stiles blinked at her, bewildered. "Excuse me? What?"

Before Olivia could elaborate, Mr. Yukimura was calling the class to attention. "All right, everyone. Let's get started."

Stiles turned and sat properly in his desk while Olivia straightened up her notebooks. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Scott at his desk, going through a huge bundle of paper. "Scott, what is that?"

Scott glanced back at her. "Kira printed this off for us. It's about that Bardo stuff."

"Huh," she hummed, impressed. She turned toward Kira's desk and smiled at her, earning her a shy grin back, before looking back at Scott. "That was nice of her."

"Yeah, it was."

"...We were just talking about internment camps and prisoners of war," Mr. Yukimura continued. "There's a passage in our reading that I'd like to go over in more detail. Who would like to come up and read aloud for us?" there was no volunteer, so Mr. Yukimura picked a random student. "Mr. Stilinski, how about you?"

Olivia's eyes cut to her boyfriend, watching him wearily. He couldn't read at the moment.

"Oh, uh, maybe someone else could," Stiles excused himself.

Mr. Yukimura wasn't having that. "Everyone participates in my class, Mr. Stilinski."

"Okay," Stiles sighed and got out of his seat, heading over to the podium where Mr. Yukimura's copy of their textbook rested.

Seeing someone you love struggle is never fun. Physically feeling someone you love struggle was even worse. Stiles' tether pulsed in sync with his quickening breaths as he stood at the podium, glaring down at the textbook. Though she was trying her hardest to help through her tethers, she just wasn't reaching him.

Olivia knew the signs of a panic attack, especially on Stiles and he was there; his rapid breathing, his glazed-over eyes, his tight-knuckled grip...She needed to get him out of there.

"Stiles," she popped out of her seat and rushed over to him, gently grabbing his arm. "It's okay. J-Just, just hold on."

Scott, who had followed her to the front of the classroom, glanced at Mr. Yukimura. "We should take him to the nurse's office."

Honestly, they didn't wait for Mr. Yukimura to agree. They had already started helping Stiles walk out of the classroom. It was only when they were freely in the hall that Stiles moved on his own accord, ripping away from Olivia and Scott's grip on him. He stumbled, breathing heavily, into the closest room, which happened to be the boys' bathroom.

"Stiles, look at me, man," Scott was almost as panicked as Stiles; he hadn't seen his best friend like this before. "What's happening?"

"It's a panic attack," Olivia told him as she hurried to Stiles' side. Her attempts to grab his arms and help him sit down were pushed away as Stiles gripped onto the sink.

"It's a dream," he mumbled frantically, tears slipping down his cheeks. "it's a dream. This is just a dream."

"Stiles, this isn't a dream," Olivia's voice was soothing, gentle. "This is real. You're here with me and Scott."

"It's okay, Stiles," Scott's eyes fluttered, afraid for his best friend. "What do you do? I mean, like, how do you tell if you're awake or dreaming?"

"Fingers," Stiles gasped out. "Y-You c-count your f-fingers. Y-You have e-extra fingers in d-dreams."

"How many fingers do I have?" Olivia immediately held out both hands so Stiles could see them. "Stiles, hey! Look at me, look at my hands and count my fingers. Come on, sweetcheeks."

Scott grabbed Stiles' arm and forcefully turned him away from the sink in order to face Olivia. Stiles inhaled and exhaled far too quickly to be safe, but he set his blurry eyes on Olivia's hands, counting her fingers one-by-one.

"One, two..."

Scott nodded in encouragement. "Keep going."

"Three, four..."

"Five," Olivia put the first of her thumbs down and gave Stiles a heartfelt smile. "Good job, babe. Keep going."

Stiles exhaled shakily. "Six, seven..."

"Eight," Scott supplied as Olivia put her last middle finger down.

"Nine..." Stiles inhaled and finished counting breathlessly, "Ten."

"Ten fingers, Stiles," Olivia encouraged. "I have ten fingers. This is real. You're not dreaming."

The weight of what that meant seemed to fall on Stiles all at once. He collapsed, his back hitting the wall, as he slid to the floor. Ignoring how dirty the floors in the boys' bathroom were, Olivia didn't hesitate to get on her knees and kneel next to him, grabbing his clammy hand to press a loving kiss to the back of it.

"What the fuck is happening to me?" Stiles cried out in frustration, knocking his head back against the wall. It broke Olivia's heart to see him like this, so frustrated and helpless.

"We'll figure it out," Scott joined Olivia and Stiles on the floor. "You're going to be okay."

Stiles scoffed in disbelief. "Am I?" he raised his head to look Scott in the eye. "Are you? Scott, you can't transform. Allison's being haunted by her dead aunt. I'm straight up losing my mind. We can't do this. We can't—we can't help Malia. We can't help anyone."

"Stiles, don't say that," Olivia shook her head, squeezing his hand. He lazily looked at her and went to disagree, but she cut him off. "No, seriously, don't. Can't is not in your vocabulary, Stiles. If anyone can do anything about anything, it's you, sweetcheeks. You are the one who figures things out. You are strong—you always have been, and you always will be."

"Babe..."

"And even when things are tough, we don't give up," Olivia insisted, her eyes starting to sting. "We try. We always try."

"Liv's right," Scott agreed, nodding proudly. "It's not in our nature to sit by and do nothing. We're doers, Stiles."

Stiles sniffed and nodded resolutely. "You're right," he agreed, straightening up as he looked between his girlfriend and his best friend. "We can do this."

-

-

The rest of school did not get any better. By the time Stiles was feeling better, class had already been let out and people were headed to their second period. However, there was one person who wasn't headed to their next class and that had been Kira. The nice girl she was, she had picked up the bags that Olivia, Scott, and Stiles had left in the history classroom and went to return them.

Unfortunately, Malia—yes, the Malia who was also somehow a werecoyote—had attacked her in the boys' locker room. No one had any idea how a coyote was able to get into the building, but apparently doors didn't deter her when Stiles had something of hers in his backpack.

Scott had saved Kira, thankfully, and the animal control and the police had shown up for the aftermath. The situation went from bad to worse, when Stiles admitted that he had brought the baby doll from the Tate's wreck with him to school at the same time that Mr. Tate walked onto the scene.

He went off the handle at Stiles and then was caught with a gun by Sheriff Stilinski. Fortunately, Mr. Tate left before things could get even more heated, while promising to find the coyote and kill it. He did all of that without realizing that said coyote was actually his daughter—not that anyone would just know that.

So now, the pack had to group together and save Malia from her own father. It was the how they were going to save Malia that was the problem. With Scott and Allison out of commission, they didn't have much options in the way of muscle.

Which led them to Dr. Deaton's animal clinic.

"Xylazine," Deaton set three vials of medicine on the stainless-steel counter in the middle of his exam room. "It's a tranquilizer for horses. For a werecoyote, expect it to work within seconds. I only have three, so whoever's shooting needs to be a damn good shot."

"Allison's a perfect shot," Scott was quick to say.

No, Olivia disagreed privately, she was a good shot.

Isaac voiced what she didn't. "She used to be."

"She can do it," Scott insisted.

Olivia shared a skeptical look with Isaac; Scott hadn't been there when Allison accidently almost shot and killed Lydia. They had. Ever since the sacrifice, Allison wasn't the marksman she used to be. She was so shaky nowadays that she could hardly write with a pen.

"If we manage to find the thing," Isaac muttered pessimistically.

Stiles was not happy with Isaac's negativity. "Okay, what is the point of him?" he pointed at the blonde werewolf. "Seriously, I mean, what's his purpose? Aside from the persistent negativity and the scarf? What's up with the scarf anyway? It's sixty-five degrees out."

Olivia sighed, tired of the back-and-forth between Isaac and Stiles. "Stiles, cut it out."

Stiles shot her a betrayed look as Isaac crossed his arms over his chest, irritated.

"Look, maybe I'm asking a question no one here wants to ask," he pointed out blankly. "How do we turn a coyote back into a girl when she hasn't been a girl for eight years?"

"I could do it, if I could keep myself in control," Scott said thoughtfully. "But...Liv, you could do it?"

Olivia pointed to her chest, confused. "Me? How am I supposed to do that?"

"Yeah, how is she supposed to do that?" Stiles echoed curiously.

"Well, you remember what Deucalion told you, right? About your abilities?" Scott prompted. Olivia's mind raced as she thought back to the night of the lunar eclipse. "He said you could turn a werewolf back with..."

"With a call of his name," she finished. "Yeah, I remember now."

"Is that true?" Isaac asked Deaton.

"Yes, it is," Dr. Deaton confirmed, studying Olivia with peculiar eyes. "You've already done something like that, haven't you?"

Olivia nodded. "With Ethan and Aiden."

"And Deucalion," Scott added.

"So, if you can make three alpha werewolves transform back to their human selves, you can do it with a werecoyote," Stiles encouraged Olivia, a proud smile playing at his lips. "It'll be a piece of cake for you, babe."

"We don't know that," Olivia disagreed. "I have no connection to Malia, I've never met her. Scott, you ran into her, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but I can't transform."

"So, we make a second plan, just in case Livvy can't get Malia to change back," Stiles clapped his hands as he started scheming. "We need a real alpha, though. You know, one that can get it up."

Scott sighed, embarrassed. "I'm an alpha with performance issues."

"It's okay, Scott," Olivia patted his hand. "You just need to practice. Unfortunately, Derek and Peter are somewhere in Mexico right now."

"Which leaves the twins," Isaac hummed.

"They're not alphas anymore," Dr. Deaton informed them. "After what Jennifer did, almost killing them? It broke that part of them."

Olivia didn't see how that was even possible, but okay...

"Yeah, but they still know what it's like to be alphas," Stiles pointed out. "Nobody's seen them in weeks, though."

Olivia winced; she had walked in on Lydia and Aiden one too many times in the past two weeks to say that no one had seen the twins. She knew what Aiden's ass looked like, much to her chagrin. Lydia was taking this I-don't-like-Scott thing to a whole new level by sexing it up with one half of the ex-alpha twins.

"That's not totally true," she spoke up reluctantly; Lydia was going to kill her. "Lydia may or may not be in contact with them...especially Aiden."

Stiles raised his eyebrows at her. "Still?" she nodded. "Ew..."

-

-

They were set. A plan had been made, with hopes that they wouldn't have to use their back-up plan. Scott could control his transformation again, but they were still counting on Olivia to turn Malia back into her human self. It was the easiest route to go since they knew that Olivia could change were-creatures back into their human selves.

All they had to do now was implement the plan. The six of them would be splitting up; Allison and Lydia would try to shoot Malia with the tranquilizer in hopes that it would slow her down, Isaac and Scott would chase Malia and get her to the site of the car wreck, and that's where Olivia and Stiles would be waiting so Olivia could change Malia back. It was a fairly simple plan, but anything could go wrong.

They arrived at the preserve in three separate vehicles; Stiles' Jeep, Scott's bike, and Allison's Toyota. Olivia, Stiles, Lydia, Scott, Isaac, and Allison gathered in a circle, ready to go over their plan once more.

"Anyone else think we might be doing more harm than good?" Lydia asked reluctantly.

Olivia twisted her lips together and glanced at Stiles, gripping his hand tightly. He didn't say anything to her, but his actions did their job in assuring her that everything was going to be all right. He squeezed her back and lifted their intertwined hands, wrapping his arm around her shoulder in assurance. She snuggled into him, the warmth of his shoulder defrosting her chilled cheek.

"We're trying to keep a father from killing his own daughter," Scott rationalized for all of them.

"Actually, we're trying to keep a guy from killing a coyote who is actually his daughter, who we don't know how to change from a coyote back to his daughter," Isaac corrected him bluntly.

Despite the situation, Olivia couldn't help but chuckle. She could always count on Isaac to tell it like it is. It was one of his many charms and why she considered him such a great friend—and there was also the fact that before she grew a heart and fell for Stiles Stilinski, she was just as blunt as him. In a way, that was kinship between them.

"And again with the not helping," Stiles shot a glare at the tall blonde.

Scott rolled his eyes and turned to Allison, who had stayed silent until then. "Did you bring it?"

"Yeah," Allison walked to the trunk of her car and opened it, pulling out her family's tranquilizer gun. "All ready."

As if the universe wanted to ruin their plan, a gunshot echoed through the woods. For some odd reason, they all realized what that meant; Mr. Tate had taken his coyote situation in his own hands and was out gunning for Malia.

Scott and Isaac made to take off, but Olivia quickly stopped them. "Wait, wait!" she shouted "Stick to the plan. Get her to the wreck."

Scott and Isaac only made noises of agreements before they were running off with Lydia and Allison trailing after them. Olivia and Stiles started their own journey to the site of the car wreck and when they were halfway there, Stiles received a call from his father.

"It took the doll again?" Stiles exclaimed, frustrated, once Noah told him that Malia broke into Tate's house to take the baby doll. "What the hell is so important about this doll? Why would it go all the way to the school and then all the way back to the house just for a doll?"

Stiles had ended his call with Noah now, and muttering under his breath as they continued toward the wreck.

"Well, you found the doll in the car wreck, right? Not the coyote den?" Olivia mused; Stiles nodded. "Okay, so, what does the doll even look like?"

"I don't know," Stiles quickly, a little snappish. "It's a doll, you know. It's got little arms, a big baby head, and dead, soulless eyes that scare the fuck out of you...Actually, I took a picture..."

Olivia hovered over his shoulder as he unlocked his phone and found the picture he took of a photo of Malia and her little sister. The older girl in the picture, Malia, wasn't even holding the doll; it wasn't her doll, it was the sister's.

"That's not Malia's doll, Stiles," she pointed out.

"It's her younger sister's," Stiles caught on quickly. "I know what she's doing. It's like taking flowers to a cemetery."

"She's heading to the same place we're going, the wreck," Olivia realized. "We have to get there, now."

They picked up their pace, practically running through the woods to get to the ravine where the wrecked car stayed for eight years. No one else was at the ravine yet, not even Malia, so they slowed to a walk to wait for everyone.

And then Olivia felt it. Isaac's tether pulsed painfully and before she could react, a pained shout echoed through the woods.

"Isaac?" Olivia turned quickly, facing the direction where the shout came from. It was when she took a step that she stood on hard steel which clicked with her weight. "Oh, my God."

It was a trap. A trap that was meant for Malia, but somehow caught Olivia instead.

"Livvy, don't move!" Stiles shouted from behind her. She stared at him with frantic eyes, her heart racing a mile a minute, as he slowly approached her. "I'm gonna look at the warning label, okay? Just stay still."

"W-Warning l-label?"

"There's instructions on how to disarm it," Stiles kept calm for her, though he wanted to vomit from the nerves pooling in his chest. "Animals can't read, so...fuck..."

Olivia swallowed thickly. "Stiles?"

"I can't read, either," Stiles' tone was heavy with anger, though not at her.  He was angry with himself for being unable to help her. Livvy was on the verge of losing her leg, and possibly dying, and he couldn't fucking read. He couldn't get her off the trap safely.

Fuck, fuck, fuck...

"You don't need to read the instructions," Olivia pulled together all of her courage to get herself and Stiles out of this mess. Everyone was counting on them. "You never read the instructions, remember? It's annoys the shit out of me."

Stiles chuckled wetly, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

"You don't need the instructions because you're smarter than them," Olivia recalled something that Stiles had actually told her on one of their date nights where they attempted to put together a Lego set. "You can figure it out, sweetcheeks...You can do it."

There were only two seconds until Stiles responded. When he did, Olivia drowned peacefully in relief. She believed in Stiles. He could do anything.

"Okay, okay," Stiles settled himself on his knees and carefully grasped the wheel that would disarm the arm. "Here we go. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"I love you."

"I love you, too. Just do it."

"Okay, here we go," Stiles twisted the knob. All at once, the jaws of the trap snapped open, Olivia jumped out of it, and Stiles grabbed her and pulled her away from it. He let out a large sigh of relief when the trap snapped shut and she was unharmed. "Oh, my God. Thank God. You're all right. You're all right."

Olivia was hardly able to lift her head before he was pulling her into a dizzying kiss. She would have stayed in his embrace and celebrated her safety and his success for days if she could, but she couldn't.

Scott's tether was going off and one glimpse at her map told her that he was making his way toward them with Malia. She hurriedly pulled away from Stiles, muttering about Scott and Malia as she did so, and started sprinting toward the ravine.

She held out her hands, envisioning her power conforming to her palms. As soon as she saw Scott round a tree a hundred feet ahead of her, a coyote on his tail, she was pushing that invisible energy out. On her map, she had already located Malia as a navy blue tether; she attacked the tether with her purple energy, commanding Malia's attention.

She inhaled deeply and then:

"MALIA!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Scott collapse to the ground under the weight of her scream. In her map, she felt Isaac's tether strengthen and heal from whatever trouble he had gotten himself into. All she could really focus on, though, was Malia.

The coyote fell to the ground and right before Olivia's eyes, started shifting. Before long, a naked girl, around her age, laid where the coyote had dropped. She had dark brown hair, the same color as Olivia's, and somehow, it wasn't as messy or as wild as Olivia had expected it to be after eight years as a coyote.

She ignored Stiles' call of her name and ran toward Malia, shifting out of her peacoat as she did so. Malia stared at her, stunned, as she carefully wrapped it around her bare body.

"Hi, Malia," she greeted the girl in a gentle whisper. "I'm Olivia. Are you okay?"

"Y-You--I-I?" Malia seemed shocked that she was not her normal coyote self and that she could actually talk.

"You're okay, now," she didn't know why, but Olivia felt so protective over Malia already. "Everything's gonna be okay."

Shockingly, Malia seemed to believe her. Despite having been an animal for the better half of a decade, she still seemed to remember some human actions. Without a word, Malia wrapped her arms around the shorter brunette and buried her face into her soft hair.

Olivia smelt like family, like home.