"He said they would meet us here," Lydia stated as Scott pushed open the door to Derek's vacant loft.

This place has been a ghost town since Jennifer bit the dust, and Derek is still MIA so the loft has just been kind of empty and useless. When I had said that it wasn't true that not a single person has seen either of the twins in weeks, I had meant that good ole Lydia Martin still had Aiden's number and he sent her text messages on a daily basis. When I told her that we needed to meet with them, she reluctantly agreed to text him for us.

I glanced around for either of the twins, but they were nowhere to be seen. The place was barren and to be honest, it was kind of bringing back terrible nostalgia. The last time I was in here was the night that Jennifer had tried to kill Lydia and myself and then she ran her Darach ass over here to try and convince Derek that we were the ones lying to him.

"Well are they-"

My sentence was cut short due to Scott's body flying forward and nearly knocking me over. Thank God Stiles had a grip on my hand and he jerked me out of the way just in time. My eyes fearfully darted behind me to see Ethan and Aiden standing by the slightly open door, Scott was on his hands and knees a few feet in front of them.

Stiles grabbed a hold of Lydia's arm and pulled us both away from the twins as they grabbed Scott, Ethan restrained him while Aiden repeatedly hit him in his core. I winced and buried my face in Stiles' chest, not wanting to watch my brother get the leaving shit beat out of him. Obviously they were doing this for a reason, but the fact still remains that at any moment I could connect myself to Scott and end up taking this beating as well, which I would like to avoid if I can.

Aiden shoved Scott to the ground and his body hit the cement with a heavy thud. "I thought you guys were gonna teach me to roar," Scott groaned, his body now in the fetal position.

"We are. You do it by giving in," Aiden snapped violently.

Ethan sighed as he glanced at his brother, "Giving in and letting go. That's how Deucalion taught us control."

I watched helplessly as Ethan grabbed a hold of my brother's shirt and jerked him off the ground.

Stiles watched in amusement, "Hey, you know that's funny. I've actually tried something like this one time using a heart monitor and lacrosse balls, but you're right beating the living crap out of him is probably a lot better."

The little exercise that Stiles was talking about vaguely registered in my mind. I remember them both talking about it at lunch, but I wasn't actually with them when they went out in did it. That was on the day that Stiles asked me to be his girlfriend and I not-so-subtly dropped the bomb on Scott by carelessly kissing Stiles in front of him.

"That's actually the plan? You kick my ass?" Scott asked in confusion as he wearily glanced at the twins. The blood that was smeared around his mouth was making me uneasy, giving way to the thoughts of Stiles looking like that in my nightmares.

Aiden nodded sharply, "You're afraid to turn. We're going to make you."

"You turn, and then you kick our asses," Ethan smiled. Why did he seem so excited to have his ass kicked by my brother?

"And then you roar," Aiden stated before dramatically flashing his new bright blue wolf eyes and roaring, just to prove a point. I rolled my eyes, apparently Derek and Isaac aren't the only ones who like to be dramatic when wolfing out.

"You don't think you can let go with us? You think you're gonna hurt us? Come on McCall, give it your all! We can always heal," Ethan taunted as he began to shove Scott around with Aiden roughly.

Scott was obviously fed up at this point, so he swung at Aiden, but with Scott's terrible luck, Aiden caught his arm mid-swing and punched him right in the gut. Scott staggered back as he groaned loudly. As if that wasn't enough, Ethan punched him right in his lopsided jaw.

"You're an alpha. You want to roar like one, you've gotta give in full throttle. You've got to be the monster. Become the beast. Become everything you're afraid of," Aidan stated as Scott stumbled around, trying to catch his footing.

Ethan nodded, "That's what gives you power. It gives you strength."

Scott tried to swing again, this time at Ethan, but Aiden elbowed him in the back and Scott fell to the floor again, landing on his stomach. Stiles and I both winced and increased our grip on each other's hand. Watching him get the living hell out of him wasn't easy. I whimpered slightly as I watched Scott spit blood out of his mouth.

"Giving into it doesn't make you the bad guy," Aiden snapped, his voice was getting amped up and it was making me uncomfortable. He was enjoying this entirely too much.

Ethan glanced at his brother, "So long as you can control it."

"Sometimes control is a little overrated," Aiden barked as he kicked Scott in the stomach. Scott cried out as he hit the floor, my stomach was in knots as I tried to keep my main focus on Stiles, that way I don't connect myself to Scott. My body won't be able to take this pain like his can.

Stiles eyes went wide as he watched his best friend struggle, "Come on, Scott. Fight back."

"What if I can't control it? What if I can't turn back?" Scott rasped out, his cheeks were splattered with his blood and his eyes were squinted due to the high level of pain he was in at the moment.

"Then it takes over. You become Malia. You get further and further away from being human. You turn into an animal. Or worse," Ethan explained.

Aiden then added, "You turn into Peter."

That was so not what any of us wanted to hear. If there was one person in our lives that we all could live with not seeing ever again, it would be Peter Hale. He has done nothing but ruin everything that we all have. If it weren't for him, Lydia and I would still be two normal teenage girls, not a Banshee or an Admonere. We would have normal lives and be relatively happier than we are now, because now we are sucked into this mess. I'm sure I would still be part of what is happening, but at least I wouldn't have to worry about my ability and how it has been affecting me lately.

Scott slowly rose from the floor and wiped the back of his hand across his blood stained lips, I watched with wide eyes as he rushed at the twins with all that he had in him. Aiden easily hurled his body in the air, slamming it onto the table before climbing up and basically straddling him. He was sending punch after punch to Scott's face, and I could feel my body shaking with anticipation, my ability is fighting against the shield that I have put in place.

I can't do this, not now. I can't. So, I did the one thing that I thought would help and I buried my face in Stiles' chest once more, wrapping my arms around him tightly as I centered my thoughts on him and only him. Find an anchor. Stiles is the anchor. As soon as the thought of him being my anchor registered in my mind, I could feel myself connecting to Stiles.

My ability is insanely weird to even explain, I can just feel it whenever I am connected to someone. Their thoughts are my thoughts and their feelings are my feelings. So, that means Stiles' thoughts and feelings are registering inside of me. He is worried for Scott and I, he is worrying that I may connect myself to my brother. He is content with holding me in his arms like this, even though the situation calls for any emotion but content. His entire body is warming up simply from my body being flush against his. Another thought comes barreling in as well. A thought that couldn't possibly be Stiles, because why would Stiles be thinking about destroying everyone? That's all I can hear, the words we are going to destroy all of them. What does that even mean?

"What? I thought we were helping him!" Aiden shouted. I glanced fearfully at the former alpha as Ethan held back the fist that had been previously hitting my brother's bloodied face. I felt my stomach drop as I took in Scott's appearance, he looked completely broken down.

Ethan clenched his jaw, "You helped too much."

Aiden jumped off the table and I scrambled over to my brother, he slowly turned his head to face me and offered me a pathetic looking smile. His teeth were stained by his blood, and the scarlet liquid was oozing out of his mouth onto the table.

"I swear to God, if you ever do anything like that to him again I will-"

Scott tried to chuckle but ended up coughing and choking on his blood, "Kasey, it's fine."

I sighed as I glared daggers at Aiden, "You think I'm kidding? Touch him one more time and I'll make your life a living hell."

☾  ☾   ☽  ☽

After the extremely tension filled beat down session that my brother received, he healed up and we headed back to the Beacon Hills Reserve so we could try to track down Malia. Lydia wanted to be dropped back off at her house, so Stiles made the detour and took her home before we met up with everyone else. By the time we got there though Scott, Isaac, and Allison were already waiting.

I slid out of the jeep and made my way around the front anxiously, "Anyone else think that maybe we should just leave it alone?"

"We're trying to keep a father from killing his own daughter," Scott stated simply. I wish we could just tell Mr. Tate that Malia was the coyote that he is so adamant on killing. It would make our lives so much easier.

"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 deadpanned.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "And again with the not helping."

"Did you bring it?" Scott directed his question towards Allison, trying to change the subject from Isaac's pessimistic view on our plan.

Allison nodded as she pulled a heavy duty looking rifle out of the trunk of her car. I'm assuming it has the tranquilizer that Deaton gave us somehow incorporated into the bullets. I'm not very good with the whole knowing how a gun works thing, so I'll just leave that all to Allison to know and understand.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a very loud and distinct popping sound echoed around in the woods. My eyes widened as I watched Scott jump onto his bike and take off, Isaac and Allison were running after him, leaving Stiles and I shouting at them all to stop-but our pleas were lost upon them.

"Are you freaking-have they not learned that running off like this is a very bad idea?" I groaned as I watched Allison's backside disappear over a hill. Great. This is just great, not only is there someone wandering around popping off shots; now we're all split up and Malia could be anywhere.

Stiles fished his phone out of his pocket and quickly tapped his screen before pressing the device to his ear, "Dad? Yeah we just heard a gunshot, what the hell is happening?"

I watched in silence as Stiles listened to his father, "It took the doll again? What the hell is so important about this doll?"

His face contorted in confusion as Sheriff Stilinski spoke on the other line, "It's the doll... It's the doll?" He pulled the phone away from his ear and ended the call, glancing at me oddly.

"So, the doll was taken? Why do you think she wants the doll?" I asked him as he crouched down to the ground, letting his thoughts flow out of his mouth.

"Okay, so why would it go all the way to the school and then all the way back to the house just for a doll? One that was in the car wreck in the first place, it wasn't even in the den. Why does it like the doll so much?" he asked me, as if I would know the answer.

I shrugged, "I don't know. I mean it's just a doll. A very creepy ass doll that should not have been sold in stores in the first place in my opinion."

My hands moved on their own accord as I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and navigated to my photo album so I could see the photo I took of the doll again. Maybe I missed something the first time I glanced at it. The photo popped up on my screen and I was once again looking at Malia and her sister sitting on a blanket with one of them holding the doll.

"Stiles, which girl do you think is Malia in this picture?" I asked him. He stood to his feet and glanced over my shoulder at the photo, his eyes analyzing it.

He pointed to the older girl, "It has to be her. She's wearing the jacket and scarf we found in the den."

"Yeah... she's not the one holding the doll," I mumbled.

His eyes widened, "That's Malia's younger sister. It was her doll. I know what she's doing."

"What?"

Stiles grabbed my hand quickly, "Come on. I know where she's going."

☾  ☾   ☽  ☽

"Scott, it's me, you gotta call me back as soon as you can. It wasn't Malia's doll. It was her sister's. Malia left it at the car for her sister. It's like bringing flowers to a grave, okay? And we stole the flowers. So, that's all she's trying to do, right. Bring the doll back to the grave, to the car wreck. That's where she's headed, the car wreck," Stiles spoke into the phone before jerking it back from the side of his head in annoyance.

I was about to make a comment about his impatience or the overwhelming amount of bad luck that we seem to have whenever we try to call Scott, but a very distinct clicking sound halted any and all movements of my mouth and body. I could feel that my foot had landed on something that wasn't the ground, it was smooth and solid and round. My eyes darted down to my feet and I gasped when I found my converse clad foot resting in the center of a very deathly looking bear-trap.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

He spun around and when he caught sight of my frozen stance, he could tell something was wrong. His eyes darted down from my eyes to my feet and he caught sight of the trap that my foot was in the middle of. My black converse was resting on the metal circle that could very well set off the trap that would cause me to lose part of my leg.

Stiles walked towards me slowly, "Kasey, try not to move. Okay?"

"Yeah, because my first reaction would be to move," I retorted sarcastically as I watched him fearfully. Why does this kind of stuff always happen to me? I would be the person to step on a freaking bear trap.

"My dad just told me that Mr. Tate had set these up all over the woods for Malia. He said-He said to be careful, I-I forgot to tell you," he stammered as he ran his hands over his head nervously.

Why would Mr. Tate think it's a good idea to place a bunch of traps around the woods? What if a jogger stepped on one, or what if a teenage girl who is trying to prevent him from killing a coyote that actually happens to be his daughter stepped on one-oh wait.

I nodded rapidly, "That's okay; just look for a warning label or something."

"A warning label?" Stiles echoed in confusion.

"Or something!" I snapped nervously, "Look, there has to be instructions on how to release it on here. How else would a hunter know how to do it? Right? I mean, animals can't read."  

He swallowed thickly before dropping to the ground. My eyes were glued on him as I watched him push some leaves out of his way. His face was hovering inches off the ground as he searched anxiously for some time of warning label or instruction on the bottom of the trap. I really hope that there was some type of instruction down there, otherwise I'm screwed.

Stiles' eyes widened and judging by the pained look on his face I knew that something was wrong, "I found the instructions, but Kasey... I can't read them."

Oh my God.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I tried to think of how I was going to get out of this situation without losing part of my leg. Does Stiles honestly even need the instructions? I'm sure if he looked at the trap long enough he could figure out how it works, right? He's the smartest person I know. He can figure it out. And besides, it's not like anyone ever really uses instructions for anything anyway. It's the American way, we just tend to wing it and hope for the best.

"You don't need to read the instructions," I said to him as he glanced up at me, his eyes were glassed over with nervous tears and the look nearly shattered my heart right then and there, "You don't need them. Stiles, you are entirely too smart to even mess with instructions, okay? You can figure it out. Stiles, you always figure it out. I believe in you."

He needs to believe that he can do this. He needs to have as much faith in himself that I have in him. He needs to figure out how to disarm the trap before I lose my damn leg. Not that I am going to tell him that, because the last thing he needs is more pressure put on his already worn down shoulders.

Stiles nodded as his eyes scanned the trap; the gears in his head were already turning. I could see them grinding out an idea. I watched him to distract myself from the situation, absorbing him in his element. What I had said was true; he is always the one that figures everything out.

When have we ever been in a situation and Stiles isn't able to spit out an idea that saves the day? When has Stiles ever let me down? When has Stiles ever let anything remotely bad happen to me? I'm safe with him, he told me that himself. He told me that whenever he is around I will be the safest I can be.

"Don't think about hurting me, Stiles. Just think-think about those video games that you and Scott used to play. You remember the ones about those bomb people? You always had to do little puzzles to disarm bombs, right? This is just like that," I coached him softly, praying that my words were registering something in his head to help keep him calm.

Stiles let out a shaky breath, "I-I... Kasey, I don't know what this says. I can't read it."

"Then stop trying to read it. Don't read it. Ignore the instructions, go with your gut. I trust you, alright? I trust you more than anyone. If I had to pick someone to do this, I would pick you anyway. You can do this, Stiles. You can do this."

He closed his eyes for a brief moment as his hand swiped across his face to wipe the beads of sweat off his red cheeks. His eyes scanned the trap and his body moved around fluidly, making sure to keep his distance from the trap as he tried to figure out the solution. After what felt like hours but was merely seconds he blew out a breath and glanced up at me.

"Okay, here we go," he said loudly as his hand hovered above what looked to be a large dial of some sort.

He swallowed nervously, "Ready?"

I nodded and shoved my fear to the back of my mind as he gripped the dial, "Here we go!" He shouted before he spun the dial. I jumped towards him as his arms snatched me away from the trap. The metal teeth then snapped together and I let out a shriek at the sight and awful sound.

My hands gripped his shirt tightly as I pressed my face against his chest, his arms were wrapped around my shoulders as he held me securely, breathing heavily. His heart was pounding in his chest; I could hear it and feel the slight vibrations from it. I had scared the hell out of him.

"Thanks," I breathed out in relief.

He sighed and rested his head against mine, "No problem."

A very loud and distinct howling noise then echoed around the surrounding trees. Stiles and I glanced at each other before smiling at the realization that it was Scott, he had found Malia and he was turning her back. At least something was going right today.

Stiles grinned, "Now that's what I'm talking about."

☾  ☾   ☽  ☽

"I'm so happy that something finally worked out for once." I said to my brother as we ascended the small set of steps on our front porch. Stiles had went with his father to return Malia home, he said he would text me the details of how that all went down when he got home later.

Scott nodded, "Yeah. I can't believe it actually worked, and I was actually able to control myself too."

I grinned as I elbowed him in the side playfully, "And we all know that you aren't exactly the poster child for self-control."

He rolled his eyes, "Shut up."

I was going to make a witty retort but I lost the opportunity as I walked through our front door, coming face to face with my father. To say I was still angry with him would be the understatement of the year. When he saw Scott and me, he quickly ended the call that he had been on and scrambled to grab at the papers that he had strewn around the living room.

"What is all of that?" I asked, momentarily forgetting that it was probably a terrible idea for me to show any type of interest in what he was doing with paper work at the moment. It had to be related to Sheriff Stilinski's impeachment case.

His eyes widened considerably, "I can't discuss it. Where have you two been all day, anyway?"

"A little placed called none of your damn business. What is this shit?" I asked as I snatched a folder off the couch before he could get to it. I flipped the manila folder open and allowed my eyes to scan over the pages.

There were multiple cases that had descriptions written out with a large red seal that said UNSOLVED on the top of them. If I had to take a guess on how many cases were in this folder alone, I would have to go with fifteen.

"Watch your language, Kasey. Give me that," My father snapped in annoyance before he snatched the folder out of my hand, glaring at me as he did so.

I let out a sigh, "Again with the whole trying to parent me thing. I told you, I don't need you for that anymore. I don't need you at all, really. You're kind of irrelevant in my life at this point."

Scott was silent as he stood at the foot of the stairs, watching our father and I glare at one another. My brother was the peacemaker in the family, he always has been, but he knew better than to get involved in this. He knew that there were so many things that I needed to say just to help keep my sanity at the relatively normal point that it's at now.

"Kasey, I know that you're upset about Stilinski's father-"

"Stiles," I corrected him quickly. My hands were balled up into tiny fists at my sides and I was starting to get extremely irritated. Is it really that hard to call him Stiles rather than Stilinski?

He sighed, "I told you that it's my job. I'm not trying to ruin anyone's life."

"Well, you certainly are an expert on ruining people's lives," I retorted sarcastically. I was about done with this conversation and my father as a whole. My mom needs to kick him out or something because I can't keep seeing him like this every day. One of these nights I'm gonna end up burning the damn house down.

His gaze fell to the floor momentarily before he glanced back at me in exhaustion, "I'm really trying to be here for you and Scott, but you are making it extremely difficult."

My eyes widened as my jaw dropped, "I'mmaking it difficult? I'm making it difficult? Who made it difficult for you to call us every day? Who made it difficult for you to show up on the weekends? Who made it difficult for you to stop letting us come over and see you? Who made it difficult for you to stop drinking every damn night so you could actually be a father!? Who made it difficult for you to be a decent human being?! None of this is my fault! This is all on you, dad! You did this shit, you messed everything up! Don't you dare try to make it out to be that our extremely screwed up relationship is my fault!"

I was in hysterics at this point, tears were slipping down my cheeks and I honestly couldn't give a rat's ass about how pathetic I look or sound right now. This is what I mean when I say he screwed everything up. He screwed me up. I don't know what the hell to do anymore and I know that a lot of it is because of the whole being an Admonere thing, but our situation at home is entirely his fault. Stiles' father potentially losing his job is my dad's fault. He has a lot of blame to take for this mess.

More and more insults and accusations to hurl at him were forming in my head but I don't want to spend the rest of my evening crying. So, I spun on my heel and stormed out of the house, slamming the front door behind me. I could faintly hear Scott and our dad start yelling as I stumbled down the porch steps to the sidewalk.

I quickly pulled out my cell phone and dialed Stiles' number as I made my way towards his house. I don't know where else to go and I really just need him to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay right now.

"Hey, I was just about to text you."

"I-I'm coming over." I stammered as I tried to conceal the sobs that were ripping through my body.

If I could go one day without having a breakdown, that would be freaking awesome.

Stiles didn't skip a beat before he asked me, "Are you crying?"

There was no point in even responding to him. I knew that if I said yes there was the chance that I would choke out another sob, and then he would feel awful hearing me like that. So, I decided to just remain silent and bite down on the inside of my cheek so I didn't make a single sound.

"Kasey, what happened?" he asked softly. His tone just made it harder to hold back the waterworks. I have no idea what I did to deserve such an amazing person in my life, but I am so happy that I have him.

I wiped at my nose with the sleeve of my jacket, "My dad happened."

Stiles was silent momentarily, "What did he say to you?"

The tone in his voice had changed drastically from concerned to confused and I had no idea why it made me feel like I was missing something. What wouldn't my dad say to me? He isn't exactly shy when it comes to being brutally honest.

"I'm at your door," I responded before I ended the call and ran up the four little steps that led to his front door. The walk to his house went by extremely fast, and I now know it was because I had been practically running. I'm slightly out of breath at the moment.

The front door swung open seconds later and I collapsed against Stiles' body the instant I saw him. He sighed sadly as he wrapped an arm around me and closed the door, leading me up the stairs to his bedroom. His room is where we have most of our intimate discussions. Where we would talk about anything and everything that we wouldn't exactly tell people unless we had to. The walls in this room have heard and soaked up so many emotions from the two of us, it's a bit unsettling.

I sat down on his extremely soft bed and accepted the box of tissues that he kept on standby for me. I wanted to laugh at the fact that he has to keep a box of tissues around his room because I cry so damn much, but I just didn't have it in me to laugh right now. I have entirely too much anger boiling inside of me right now.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked after a moment of me sniffling and attempting to fix my smeared eyeliner.

I shrugged as I dropped the tissue into his garbage can, "There really isn't much to say, other than the fact that my dad sucks."

Stiles nodded in agreement, "He does kind of suck."

"I'm really sorry that he's trying to get your dad fired. I keep telling him-"

My apology was cut short as Stiles gently placed his hand over my mouth to silence me. He smiled faintly and shook his head from side to side, "Don't apologize for him. And don't feel like what he's doing to my dad is your fault."

I grabbed at his hand and pulled it away from my mouth, "Okay."

"Okay. Did you want to stay here with me tonight?" He asked with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He knew the answer already, yet he was asking anyway.

I rolled my eyes and flopped back on his bed, "When don't I want to stay with you?"

"The feeling is mutual," He chuckled.