...

In a dim, gloomy train station dozens of people sit patiently waiting on wooden benches. Stiles blinks as if waking up. He turns his head to the side, looking past a woman to see the boards marking the arrivals and the departures. He moves his gaze to the ticket booth against the wall across from him, then to the other people sitting around, idly waiting, barely moving. He feels something in his hand, and when he looks he finds his keys. The last thing he remembered was being in the Jeep with Y/n, how did he get here?

He turned to the woman next to him. "Excuse me." He whispers, the woman turns her head to him. "Sorry, where are we?"

"We're at the train station." She responds as if it's obvious.

"Right. Okay. Helpful. Which train station exactly?"

"Train station Number 137." She reads off of the wall.

"Did you see me come in?"

"No."

"How long have you been here?"

"Maybe an hour?"

An older man on the other side of her chimes in from his newspaper reading. "We got here at the same time. It's been at least six hours."

"Six hours?" Stiles repeats. The man nods and returns to his paper. "Where are you goin'?" The man and woman open their mouths as if about to answer, but no words come out. They look at each other in confusion.

"Uh, uh..." The woman searches her pockets. "I had a ticket with me somewhere. Um..."

Stiles then notices her attire. Scrubs, a white coat, and a stethoscope hanging around her neck. "You always travel in your work clothes?"

"I must have been in a rush." The woman softly pats at her pockets, trying to find her non-existent ticket. Stiles lets go of his questioning and stands up, making his way over to the ticket booth. The booth was empty, a sign in the window claiming the attendant would be back in 5 minutes, but from the thick layer of dust over the counter and the items on the inside, 5 minutes has long since expired.

"Do you know if anyone works here?" He asked to someone in general, just as a voice crackled over a PA system.

"The following stops have been canceled," the people around turned their heads towards the speakers, "Hollatine, Batten, Bay Burry," slowly they stood up and moved towards the entrance to the tracks, "Deer Ridge, Red Oak..."

"Excuse me, where are those trains going?" Stiles asked another man, but he didn't even seem to notice him.

"... Trenton, Anderson, King Springs."

"Excuse me, do you know what train this is?" He asked another woman in scrubs, still receiving no answer. "Does anyone know where this train's going? Excuse me, do you know what train this is? Do you know where this train's going?" No matter what he said, everyone was too interested in peering down the dark corridor labled 'To Trains'. A distant sound of a horse neighing echoed back to them, the sudden gush of wind picked up dead leaves and ruffled their clothes. Three riders came rushing towards the group causing everyone to start exclaiming in fear and run away, cowering behind benches and pillars. Stiles was unmoving as he watched the scene. A rider smacked a man away with his whip while another dropped their newly acquired victim onto the ground, the rope binding his wrists and ankles dissolving into green smoke. The riders started coming towards Stiles and he backed up to avoid being trampled. Suddenly someone grabbed him and pulled him out of the way, shoving him against a pillar. He panted from the scare and the rough handling, but froze when he saw his unlikely savior.

Peter Hale scowled when he recognized the teen in front of him. "It had to be you."

The riders turned around and headed back the way they came, the sudden commotion now calmed as people returned to their seats, Peter included. "Peter? Peter, what are you doing here? How are you here?"

"What do you mean how am I here? I'm here. You're here. We are all here. Now, get the hell away from me, Stiles." Peter sat down, returning to his casual wait.

"Hey, Peter. Peter. Peter!" He snapped his fingers at the wolf until he finally looked up at him again. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for my train."

"Okay, did you not just see that?"

"See what?"

"The horses? The hogtied businessman with the magically dissolving ropes? I'm sorry, did anyone just see that?" He shouted his question as he glanced around at the abnormally relaxed people. They just looked at him before returning to their waiting.

"Do you mind? You're blocking the board. I'd like a little warning before my train arrives."

"Okay. So you're waiting for a train. How did you get here?"

"Pretty sure I took a cab."

"Last time I saw you, you were being locked away in Eichen House."

Peter's face fell as he suddenly remembered the experience, throwing himself against his cell door while screaming like a mad man. "I was in Eichen." His voice trembled slightly. "Thanks to you."

"Memory's good. Can you remember how you, uh, got out? They discharge you?"

"No, the power went out. And I ran like hell."

"That's it? You just ran?"

"Yes, that's it. I literally just ran away from the insane asylum that was holding me hostage!" He remembered the day he escaped.

He had been carving a continuous spiral into the floor of his cell with a metal tool, blowing away the shavings as he went around and around and around. Suddenly the power went out, alarms began to blare, and his cell door opened. He dropped his tool as he looked at the open door. He rose to his feet and stepped out, watching the gate at the start of the hall open, hearing strange sounds go down the hall, before turning to his exit. Guards were fighting and struggling with the patients who had gotten out of their rooms, Peter easily stepping around the various tussles towards the other open gate. Another guard knocked out a patient with a baton and spotted the man.

"Hale! Get back in your cell! I'm not gonna repeat myself." The guard swung his baton. Peter caught his arm and gripped the back of his head, slamming his face into the wall and knocking him out.

"No. You're not." Unhindered he stepped through the gate, but he paused. He turned with a confused frown and sniffed the air before he stepped back through the gate. He could smell them. His daughters. But what were they doing here? If he had to guess the girls and their friends where probably the cause of the lockdown.

He looked down as a voice came through a walkie-talkie. "All additional units to the lower level. We need full force containment on the lower level." He scowled. There was nothing he could do for them, was there? He couldn't waste this golden opportunity to escape, so he turned with a frustrated huff and left the facility. As soon as he could he got a change of clothes, and managed to get a car. As he was about to get into it he noticed a brewing storm and a flash of lighting. A man on a horse appeared before him, the dark figuring staring right at him. Sensing danger Peter turned to snarl at the other rider behind him, only to be shot with a bullet and vanish in smoke.

Stiles sits on a bench as Peter stands and looks around, now realizing what kind of situation he was in. "How long have I been here?" Peter asked.

"The lockdown was three months ago."

Peter was amazed at the time, but then he turned to Stiles a bit offended. "I've been missing for three months and no one came for me?"

"That's what the ghost riders do, they erase you."

"Ghost riders? Ghost riders of the Wild Hunt?"

"Yeah, you know what I'm talking about?"

Peter sighed as he sat on a bench across from Stiles. "Of course, I know what you're talking about. They ride the lightning. They are an unstoppable force of nature. But, I promise you, they don't make pit-stops in train stations." He paused as he noticed an old woman smiling at him. He gave a hesitant smile back before looking at Stiles again. "I've escaped one prison only to land in another one." He glanced around. "And this looks like the underground lair of a depressed bureaucrat."

"Come on, there's gotta be a way out of this place, right? Have you tried looking around? Have you talked to anyone who knows anything?"

"If this is the Wild Hunt, there is no escape. Youl and I are doomed to ride the storm forever."

"Yeah, we're not in a storm, we're in a train station. But we can get out of a train station." Stiles stood up as he talked.

"We can't get out of here, Stiles. Because this place isn't real."

"What are you talking about?"

"Beacon Hills doesn't have a train station."

...

Y/n was finishing getting ready for school when there was a knock on her door. After calling for the visitor to come in she turned to see M/n entering with a smile. "Hey, hun, Mason was here last night while you were out, he was returning this." M/n held up Y/n's grimoire.

"Oh, thanks, Mom." Y/n thanked as she made sure she had everything in her bag.

"Why did he have your grimoire?" M/n asked as she looked down at the book in her hands.

"I was letting him look over the information I had about the ghost riders."

"That would be the yellow post-it's?" She lightly flicked one of them.

"Yeah. And by the looks of it, he made sure it's exactly the way I left it when I lent it to him." She smiled in satisfaction. Of course she knew Mason would take care of it, but it never hurt to make a little threat for assurance.

"It's really well made. I love the stone on the cover." M/n praised as she traced the shapes on the cover before opening it and flipping to near the back where she found the words written in Y/n's handwriting. "Are these your pages?"

Y/n peered over the edge. "Yep, everything that's happened these past few years and every new thing I've come across that wasn't already in there."

"Wow. The things you've experienced so far. It's amazing." M/n shook her head a little, amazed about how much her daughter has experienced in just a few years.

"It was definitely interesting." Y/n agreed. Y/n watched as M/n flipped through the pages, her brows drawing together as she got a little concerned. "Mom, are you okay?"

She looked up, almost seeming startled. "Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Well, you're acting like it's the first time you're seeing these. I mean, I showed them to you after I made them, didn't I?" Y/n tilted her head a bit, trying to remember if this actually was the first time she had seen them.

"Of course, yes." She waved her hand as she closed the grimoire. "I- I just..." She sighed with a wistful smile. "You've grown up so fast, sometimes it's easy to forget you're not my little girl who was just learning how to harness her magic anymore." M/n stepped closer and reached up, laying her hand on Y/n's cheek as she looked at her with pride. "I'm just so proud of you."

"Thanks, Mom." Y/n smiled, leaning her head a little into her mother's hold, ignoring the faint ache in her throat of held back tears. She didn't understand why she felt the urge to cry, this wasn't the first time her mother told her she was proud of her. Although it has been a while since she had, that must be why Y/n felt so emotional about it. Yeah, that was all it was.

...

Unwilling to be deterred Stiles ignored Peter's claims of no escape and began looking around for ways out himself. Peter rolled his eyes, but followed the teen around, just a little interested if he would find anything. Stiles eventually made his way to one of the few sets of doors around the room, pulling at the lock and chain on the off chance it was loosely applied. "What are you doing?" Peter asked from his perch on a shoe shining station.

"Little help, please?" He gestured to the chain. Peter lightly shrugged before he hopped up and went over to the door. He grabbed the chain, looked at Stiles, and easily ripped it off. "Okay." Stiles pushed through the doors, and came out another set that was a ways behind Peter. Stiles looked confused while Peter stared in shock. "What the hell?" Stiles rushed over and went through the doors again, coming out again into the same room.

Trying to wrap his mind around the physics of what was happening he went over to try again. "No, no, no, keep going."

"I don't see you comin' up with anything." Stiles snapped.

Peter turned his back to the room and started to speak in a whisper. "Stiles. Left shoulder, against the pillar. Don't look." Stiles looked. "I said don't look."

"Yeah." Stiles corrected himself.

"He's watching us."

Stiles glanced over more discreetly, getting a better look at the boy with messy curls and dark circles under his eyes. "Yeah, so?"

"So? Every person in this station is either comatose or catatonic. He seems very interested in keeping an eye on us." Stiles finally understood what he was getting at, and Peter nodded his head over, telling him to go talk to the guy.

As Stiles walked over to him the boy tried to seem like he wasn't staring and leaned away, moving to disappear behind the pillar. "Hey!" Stiles followed him around the opposite side, but the boy was already stopped by the sudden appearance of Peter in front of him, something that startled Stiles as well. "Oh, my God!" He jumped back.

"Why are you watching us?"

Not finding a way out, Trent answered. "You tried the doors." He chuckles. "Nobody ever tries the doors."

"Sounds like you have." Stiles commented.

"The ones that I could open. I've tried everything else."

"Not everything. You're still here." Peter pointed out.

"Yeah, it seems like you got some kind of a plan." Stiles added. "So why don't you tell us about it?"

"I can tell you." Trent admitted. "Doesn't mean you can do it."

Stiles chuckles as he and Peter glance at each other. "Oh, we- we can do it. He can- he can do it."

"Well, it's right in front of your face." He turned his gaze towards the tunnel where the riders had appeared from. "You didn't see it, did you?"

"I saw it."

"Then why'd you waste so much time running through the doors? I'll tell you why. Because it's all part of the illusion. You're afraid. And they want you to be afraid."

"I'm not afraid." Peter sneered before he turned and made his way to the entrance of the tunnel with the teens behind him, but he paused before he crossed the threshold.

"Can't do it, can you? He can't do it."

"We really should kill him."

"Or you can just walk through it." Stiles countered.

Peter nodded a bit, letting out a heavy breath. "Push me." He muttered.

"What did you say?"

"Push me." Peter breathed heavily as Stiles grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him forward.

"Now you're gettin' it." Trent smiled, following Peter into the tunnel.

"Stiles. Stiles, let's go." Stiles licked his lips as he braced himself to go in, although Peter impatiently grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him forward.

...

Y/n sat in her art class, listening to the teacher talk about how art is another extension of one's heart. The teacher explained that she wanted the students to reach deep down and, without over thinking about colors or shapes, let the heart decide what would go on the canvas. Don't think, just reach out, grab a pencil, grab a brush, anything, and just make something. Y/n was used to this type of art, it was something she practiced frequently at home. Art was her outlet and she would often pour her emotions, whether good or bad, happy or sad, hopeful or despondent, all onto the canvas.

Y/n glanced at her supplies for a moment before grabbing a piece of charcoal at random. Not thinking about it too much she swiped it across her paper and began creating a mess of random smudges before she took an eraser and made highlighted areas. Smoothing the color and then making more harsh lines she kept pushing and pulling light and shadows as she let her hands do what they wanted. After a while she stepped back, wiping her hands on a towel as she checked out her piece. She tilted her head as she realized she had made a vague outline of a face. It was blurry of course, but she could still make out high cheekbones and a pointed nose. There were some dots on the cheek that resembled beauty marks and she had a flitting thought that they kind of seemed like a constellation. Just as she was starting to think that the features seemed somehow familiar movement outside the window drew her eye.

There was a stocky man holding a clipboard who was examining an old Jeep sitting in the parking lot. She brushed it off as she looked over her drawing again, picking up a charcoal pencil to add a bit more shading to the edges. A mechanical whirring pulled her attention to the window again and she found the man had pulled a tow truck out in front of the Jeep and was working on hooking it up. She frowned as she stared out the window. Something in the back of her mind began screaming at her, telling her to stop the vehicle from being taken. Her feet were moving before she even realized it, ignoring the teacher's concerned call as she ran down the halls and hurried outside.

"Hey! Stop!" She yelled. The man looked at her as she came to a stop in front of him. "You can't tow this Jeep."

"Paperwork says I can. It's reported as abandoned."

"It's not. It's actually mine."

"Oh, this is your vehicle?"

"It's actually a funny story." She let out an airy laugh, putting off as a bubbly teen as Lydia and Scott, who had seen her run out from their AP Biology class and came to check on her, came up behind her. "My grades haven't been very good, so my mom took my keys away from me. She said I couldn't pick it up until my grades picked up."

"Yeah, sure." The man rolled his eyes at her story, not believing a word she said.

"I know, it sounds farfetched, but my mom is kind of," she whistled while making a 'crazy' motion with her finger, "out there." She chuckled again. "Look, I love Jeeps. See? I've got a necklace with a Jeep. The gems even match the... Match the color." She hesitated for a moment as her own words registered in her mind. The necklace actually did match the vehicle. She pushed it aside for now as she gave the man a sickly sweet smile. "I promise, I'll move it as soon as I get the keys."

"After you leave." Scott added, making Y/n give him a weird look.

"I'm sorry, once it's on the hook-"

"Please don't say, 'you're on the hook'." Lydia interrupted the man with distaste.

"Well, I can't now."

"Okay, okay. Look, there's gotta be something that we can do. Sign something? Call someone?" Scott offered while Lydia gave the man a disinterested look.

"Pay someone?"

The man grinned. "Drop fee's a hundred and fifty. Cash."

"A hundred and fifty?" Scott almost choked on air. "This thing isn't even worth that much." He muttered to Lydia who was counting the money she had in her purse.

"How much you got?"

"Uh, how much have you got?"

"Just give me your money."

"All I have is $50. And when I say 'all', I mean all. I-"

"Oh, screw this." Y/n huffed, dropping the sweet act as she stepped forward and glared at the man. He smirked at her new attitude, although it quickly fell as her eyes started to glow. Violet was reflected in the man's eyes as she used her magic to influence him. "You found a speck of kindness in your greasy soul for a silly teen who got into some trouble with her parents. You are going to waive the drop fee, let the Jeep off the hook, and leave."

The man slowly nodded. "I'm gonna waive the drop fee." He agreed before moving around the teens to do as she told.

Y/n smirked as she watched him before Scott spoke up. "Hey. You know we don't actually have the keys to this thing, right?"

"But now we have a Jeep." Lydia shrugged, Y/n agreeing with a nod and a smile. Her gaze fell to the Jeep again, her hand coming up to fiddle with her pendant. For some reason the idea that they managed to keep it gave her comfort. She doesn't really know why she decided to save this hunk of junk, she was just following a feeling. Hopefully she'd get some answers soon.

...

Emerging from the dark tunnels the three come upon a boarding platform, a few benches and post lamps covered in cobwebs decorate the space. "Congratulations, you found another part of the phantom train station." Peter spoke sarcastically.

"Is this the way out?" Stiles asked Trent, trying to ignore Peter.

"If it was, we would be leaving."

"You might want to stay off the tracks." Trent advised. "Cause that's the way in and out." He pointed to the end of the tracks where the tunnel started up again. Thunder rumbled and a horse neighed. "They're coming." They rushed to the platform, pushing themselves up and onto it to hide behind one of the pillars. Carefully they peered around the stone and watched as the riders appeared in a puff of smoke, seemingly coming through a portal or rift of some kind. The three ducked back as they rode by, being careful to remain unseen.

"That's the way out?" Frustration was clear on Peter's face. "How in the hell are we supposed to do that?"

"We jump."

"Jump?" Peter asked in bewilderment.

"On the back of the riders as they go through."

"Is that all?"

"I've been timing it. Look, we can jump from here just before they go out."

"I think you're confusing your pronouns. We aren't going to do anything. But you should absolutely give that a shot."

"Do you not wanna get out of here?"

"We want to get out alive, okay?" Stiles cut in. "How do you know this works? Seems like a lot could go wrong."

"Look, I can't stay here. I'm losing my mind in this place."

"I think you have an excellent grasp of the situation. I say go for it."

"Peter." Stiles gestured for the wolf to stop just as they heard the horses again.

"Hey, they're coming back." Trent prepared himself, hiding on the opposite side of the pillar while Peter went to hide behind a different one. Stiles glanced between the two before moving to hide with Peter.

"No, we can't let him do this, right?"

"What if he's right?"

Stiles gave Peter a look before trying once again to derail Trent's plans. "Hey, we'll figure something else out. Hey, look there's gotta be another way out of this place."

"But there isn't." Trent denied. "I've been looking for months. Are you comin' or not?"

"It's all you." Peter gave him a thumbs up just as the riders emerged from the tunnel again. Stiles went forward to try and stop Trent one last time only for Peter to pull him back. "Let him try." Trent watched and waited for his perfect window, running alongside them before jumping onto the back of the rider taking up the rear. "Come on. Come on." Peter urged, desperate for this wild idea to work. Trent held on as the rider tried to knock him off with his arm. One by one the riders went through the rift, but just as Trent made contact with it he was knocked back onto the ground. He began to scream in agony and writhe as his body was engulfed in green flame that burned him to nothing in moments. Peter winced at the sight. "Somehow I don't think that went the way that he was hoping." Stiles stared at the spot where Trent burned, hopping down and walking over. "Stiles, he's dead. You see his face? Trust me, he's gone."

"You knew he'd die." Stiles scoffed.

"I didn't know. I mean, I assumed."

Stiles turned to face him. "Yeah, but you could have warned him."

"He was gonna fo it anyway. Now, we know."

"Know what?"

"That we're stuck." Peter jumped down as well and walked over to Stiles. "It's over. We are trapped because that was our only way out."

"Or that's just what they want us to believe."

"What? What is it with you teenagers? You think that you're so special? You think the rules don't apply to you? Do you get it? We are dead and buried." He suddenly snatched Stiles' wallet from his pocket, opening it and rifling through the contents. "Money? It's worthless." He let the bills flutter to the ground. "Driver's license? Credit cards?" He threw them to the side.

"Give me my damn wallet back." Stiles tried to grab it but Peter already dropped it.

"It's all meaningless." He then snatched the keys Stiles had been holding since he woke up. "Keys?"

"Give me my keys."

Peter threw them onto the platform instead. "What, did you think you were gonna drive us out of here? Is that what you thought? Do you get it? We don't exist. And we are already forgotten." Peter looked as if he was pleading with Stiles to see his point of view, to see how hopeless their situation was, but Stiles won't be so easily swayed.

"Somebody's gonna remember me. Y/n will remember me. And if not her then someone else. Either Scott, or Lydia, Malia, someone. They're gonna find me, all right? They'll come for me. Who would ever come for you?"

Peter's lips drew in for a moment as he gave a short nod. "You give me a call when your highschool sweethearts conjure up a plan to get out of here." And with that he turned and went back down the tunnel, leaving Stiles to pick up his wallet and it's littered contents.

Stiles eventually made it back to the waiting room, sitting on a bench far away from Peter and next to an old woman with a grey sweater. Everything was silent before she turned her head to him. "I'm waiting for a train." She said.

"Yeah, it's probably runnin' late." He responded.

"I'm going to see my grandchildren." She smiled. "Who are you going to see?"

"Uh, no one." He muttered. She looked at him as if that was a strange answer as the PA system turned on again.

"The following stops have been canceled," Stiles looked over to the speaker, "Hollatine, Batten, Bay Burry," he got up and went over to look at it closer, "Deer Ridge, Red Oak, Trenton, Anderson, King Springs." He followed the wires with his eyes, trailing it across the ceiling and across the room, where it went into a small hole above a door.

"Intercom." Peter said from his perch against a pillar behind Stiles. Stiles looked back at the slightly hopeful glint in the wolf's expression. "Maybe a radio?" With Peter's help they got into the small room filled with broadcasting equipment. Stiles rattled off his idea while he fiddled with the wires and controls to make it work. "Your theory is ridiculous." Stiles squinted at a pair of wires. "Magnetic disturbances and a few pixelated photos doesn't mean that you can use a ham radio to communicate across a supernatural barrier. Ghost riders can't be seen, heard, or remembered. You really think they're gonna leave a gadget around that you can use to call your friends?" Peter looked around and turned a dial on one of the controls. A high pitched screech emitted from the speakers, causing them to cover their ears from the audible assault.

...

Scott came out of his class, looking around the empty halls for the distant high-pitched screech that came from out of nowhere. Malia and Lydia came down the stairs and hurried to Scott's side. "There you are." Malia called.

"You heard it too?" Scott asked.

"Malia told me about it."

"Where's it coming from?"

"This way." Scott directed, leading the girls through the school and out one of the doors. When they got to the parking lot they found Y/n standing in front of the Jeep.

"It's coming from in there." She said once they jogged over to her. Glancing at them, Scott went over to the driver's side door and tried the handle, but the car was locked.

"Did somebody just lock the keys inside?" Malia asked.

"Break it." Lydia suggested.

Scott was about to force it open when Y/n stopped him. "Wait. Don't damage it." Scott could tell she was anxious about the idea, so he stepped back as she took his place. She pressed her hand to the door as her eyes flashed. The mechanisms clicked and the door opened. Inside was a police radio which was emitting the static sound they had heard.

...

Radio static fills the room as Stiles continues to try and make a connection with the outside world. "Take your time. No rush." Peter says. "Only thing at stake is any evidence of our existence. Soon to be lost. Forever."

"Okay, not helping." Suddenly Peter hears the distinct gallop of a rider's horse. He rushes to unplug everything Stiles did before rushing them out of the room to hide. People cower as the rider dismounts and enters the room with gun drawn. He slams the door closed before beginning to destroy the room while Peter and Stiles watch from behind a pillar.

"In case you're keeping count, that's twice I've saved your life today."

...

Scott and Lydia search in the backseat for anything while Y/n rifles through the glove box, Malia watching in slight disinterest. The radio suddenly went quiet, drawing the teens' attention. "Why'd it stop?" Malia asked.

"It doesn't matter." Lydia flipped the master switch the get it to work again. "There has to be a reason."

Scott's eyes fluttered closed as he breathed through his nose, brows furrowing at what he was smelling. "What?" He muttered.

"You caught a scent?"

"Yeah. Uh, ours. Mine, yours, all four of us."

"Mine?" Malia repeated. "I've never been in this Jeep before."

"Neither have I."

"Yes, we have." Y/n insisted. "We just don't remember."

"I thought we were done with that." Malia groaned.

"Uh, yeah, Y/n, Parrish checked the VIN number. There's no record of owner." Scott said in agreement with Malia.

"Of course there isn't, because that's what they do. They erase everything about you." Y/n reminded.

"The Jeep didn't just drive itself here." Lydia pointed out, siding with the witch.

Scott paused as he thought about it, then looked at Malia. "Whose side are you on?" She asked.

Y/n gave Scott a look as he glanced between the sisters. "I'm on everyone's side." He finally settled on, not wanting to get on either girl's bad side.

"He's not real. Trust me." Malia insisted making Y/n roll her eyes as she started searching the glove box again. "I've lost a lot of people in my life. It's a long list and I don't feel like adding to it."

"Yeah, so have..." So have I, is what she was going to say, but the words caught in her throat. They tasted bitter and her mind told her to just forget about it. "Nevermind." She muttered, perking up as she pulled out a yellowed slip of paper. "Besides, you might not have to. Not if we get him back." She held up the paper and Malia looked at it in surprise, taking it from the witch to look at it closer.

She then held it out to Scott and Lydia, the wolf snatching it as she read over his shoulder. "This is from '96. And there's no name." He said.

"But there's an address." Malia pointed to the line. "129 Woodbine Lane."

"I know that address." Lydia said.

"So do I." Y/n smiled in triumph. She was finally getting somewhere, and it was leading right back to where it started.

After school Y/n made her way to the Stilinski household, being let in by and then sitting across from Noah and Claudia. She showed them the papers and asked about the Jeep they found. Claudia shrugged as she looked up at the paper, lightly shaking her head. "I- I don't know what to tell you. I haven't seen that Jeep in..." She trailed off as she thought about it. "Almost 18 years."

"I don't understand. It's in your name." Y/n said.

"But it was stolen."

"How did it end up at the high school then?"

"Beats the hell out of me." Noah answered. "I mean, that thing was a junker back in the day. God only knows who'd want it now."

"Maybe somebody dumped it there?" Claudia offered.

"Is there any way to find out where the Jeep was after it was stolen?" Y/n tried, knowing she was basically grasping at straws now, but this couldn't be another dead end.

"No." Noah shook his head.

"There's gotta be- there has to be something in it that we can use." She insisted.

"Y/n, is this about Stiles?" Y/n glanced away from the man, and that was answer enough for him.

"Honey, don't you think you've taken this far enough?" Claudia asked as she handed the paper back to Y/n. "I don't really know what's going on with you lately, but maybe it's a good time to talk to Lydia's mom."

Y/n's brows furrowed as she looked at the woman in slight disbelief. "I'm not just making this up, okay? I just-" She clenched her hands as she felt the ache of tears in her throat. She did not want to cry in front of them.

"Hey, you okay?" Noah asked gently.

She swallowed against the dryness in her mouth as she nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Um, do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

"Of course. Take your time." Claudia nodded.

Y/n made a hasty leave as she turned the corner and went up the stairs. Her chest felt tight as she sped down the halls, trying to get to the bathroom so she could be alone, but she stopped dead in her tracks as she passed that same blank wall. She slowly turned and stepped up to it, hand coming up to touch the bare spot under the wallpaper. The ache returned and this time she let it grow. Her vision blurred and a few tears fell when she closed her eyes to press her forehead against the wall. Where are you? She thought to herself, the feeling becoming overwhelming. She began to crumble, legs unable to support the weight of her unexplainable grief anymore. Using the wall as support she turned to press her back against it as she came to rest on the floor. She curled into herself as she silently cried in the empty hallway.

If Stiles wasn't real, then why did it hurt so much?

After a while Lydia had called Y/n telling her that the man with the tow truck was back and was trying to take the Jeep again. The witch rushed to the school as fast as she could and when she arrived she found Lydia and Scott standing between the Jeep and the man. "I thought you were letting us off?" Scott asked him.

"Yeah, and I did, all right? But now I'm gonna pick it up again."

"How much do you want? I'll write a check." Lydia offered.

"It's not about how much. They want it out of here, okay? It's not up to me." He went to step forward, but Scott stayed in his way, glaring up at the man. "Don't make me move you, kid, okay? I'm hooking this thing up, and I am towing it away."

Y/n watched as Scott's fist clenched, even Lydia seemed ready to fight, as they glared at the man. Although that didn't seem necessary as a creak from the truck caught everyone's attention. Malia gripped the tow hook and pulled it off of it's rope, handing the hunk of metal to the man. "Your truck's broke." Malia smiled at her sister.

...

People clammer around as the riders yet again enter the station. Stiles and Peter are quick to hide behind a bench, staying low as one rider shoots the ceiling in warning while another deposited a girl in Beacon Hills lacrosse gear onto the ground.

"This place is really startin' to fill up." Peter said.

As soon as the ropes disappeared the girl pulled her helmet off letting another girl recognize the station's new inhabitant. "Gwen? Gwen!"

"Phoebe? Oh, my God, you're here!" The reunited sisters embrace. The riders fire their guns again and the girls cower together on a bench, clutching onto each other for dear life.

Stiles' brows furrowed as he looked at the girls. "Wait a second. That girl, I know that girl. Her name is Gwen. She plays lacrosse." More shots are fired, people cry out in fear and hide behind large objects. "How long has this been going on?"

Peter peered over the side of the bench, catching sight of the boards and really getting a good look at them. He sits back as he comes to a realization. "This isn't a train station. This is a way station. It's not gonna stop." He turns again to examine the board more, then he groans as he presses his head to the bench.

"What is it?" Stiles asked as he glanced between the wolf and the board. "What are those places? Bannack? Canaan? I know you know something."

"We gotta get out of here. Nobody is safe." Peter pants.

"Yeah, in here?"

"In Beacon hills. Your friends, your family, everyone you've ever known. They're gonna be taken." Without more explanation Peter darts away towards the tunnels, keeping low to the ground as Stiles whisper yells after him.

"Where are you going?" Peter was already out of sight. Stiles glances once more at the board before ducking low and running after Peter. "What did you see up there?" He asked as he caught up to the man. "The towns? What did it mean?"

"I just told you. They're never gonna stop."

"Okay, so what's the plan then?"

"I'm going through the portal."

"Wait, wait, wait. No one gets through the portal, you said that yourself."

"No human can. But I'm better than human, remember? I'll heal." He heard Stiles pause in his walking and stopped as well, turning to face him with an impatient look. "Stiles, let's not have a moment."

"Look, if you survive, you have to find my friends for me, okay? You have to tell them about me. 'Cause they're not gonna remember me, so you have to tell them that I'm here."

"When I survive," Peter cut him off, "I'm going to get as far away from Beacon Hills as I possibly can. And if I happen along one of your below average friends and it doesn't inconvenience me, I might mention your name." He gave him a pat on the shoulder before turning to walk off, only for Stiles' next words to make him stop again.

"Yeah, what about Y/n and Malia?" Peter turned to him with a hard look. "I know you're doing this for them. You're risking being incinerated for them. And I'm okay with that."

A horse neighs down the tunnel, Peter's eyes drift to the sound. "Stiles." Stiles looked back. "Stall them."

Stiles looked to him in shock. "What? How?"

"Use your head." Peter smiled before he turned, hopped onto the platform and hid. Stiles huffed as he looked around, spotting one of the benches and getting a quick idea. He jumped onto the platform and pushed the closest bench onto the tracks, making an obstacle the riders would have to maneuver around. Peter panted as he hid behind a pillar, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he began to question his decisions. "What're you doing?" He muttered to himself. He suddenly frowned as he felt something under his foot, moving it and looking down to find Stiles' keys. His brows furrowed as a memory came back to him, a memory of one of Y/n's last visits before he escaped Eichen.

Peter sat against the wall of his cell, staring at the wall opposite him in slight irritation. The feeling of eyes burning holes into his skull settling him on edge. "Is this gonna be another hour of you sitting there and trying to appeal to my better nature?" He suddenly asked, turning his glare towards his eldest daughter as she sat on the ground on the other side of the window.

"I'm not trying to appeal to anything." Y/n denied. "I'm just trying to find what she saw in you, see if it's still there. Even just a little bit."

"Why? Why is it so important to you if I have any redeeming qualities?" His irritation sharpened his tone like a grinder.

"Because she thought you did." Peter flinched ever so slightly, a muscle in his temple working as he clenched his jaw and glared at the wall again. "And, whether I like it or not, you're one of the last blood relatives I have. I don't really feel like losing any more if I can help it."

Peter didn't make a comment. They were silent for another few minutes as Peter let himself think of the witch he used to know. Finally curiosity got the better of him. "What did... What did M/n tell you about me?" He tried to sound casual, if not indifferent when asking, but Y/n caught the slight hesitation when he said her mother's name.

"Well, she never mentioned your name." He seemed to frown for a moment, but it was gone as fast as it came. "She did say you were selfish, power hungry, a tad narcissistic." Peter rolled his eyes at that. "'But', she would say, 'despite all of that, when he actually cares about someone, he can do things that would surprise even the ones who loathed him the most'. I think I've seen some of those surprising things." Y/n admitted.

"A lapse of judgement, obviously." It was Y/n's turn to roll her eyes, but she thought she heard a twinge of amusement in his words.

Y/n noticed Peter seemed to soften when her mother was mentioned, even when he seemed irritated at what she told him, she thought there was a bit of tenderness to his eyes as he thought of M/n. She thought she was actually making some progress with him, chipping away slightly at the ice surrounding him. "You know, she didn't want to leave you." She tried, but that might have been the wrong thing to say as he started to glare again.

"Then why did she? She tell you that?"

"She only said that she had a vision in a dream." She caught him glancing at her in question. "You were going to bring danger and it would affect everyone around you. She didn't know when or why or how, but she thought taking me away from it all would be the safest thing for me."

"Did it work?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so. I think what she saw was the dead pool, and we all know how that turned out. Sometimes trying to stop something actually aids in making it happen."

"Oh, that's lovely. All that pain for nothing it appears." He sneered. Y/n wondered if he meant M/n's pain or his own.

"Maybe things would have been different if she had stayed, maybe they would have been the same, who knows. If it makes you feel any better, I know she really loved you. It would have felt like ripping her heart out to be separated from you."

"How would you know that? If she never told you my name, why would she tell you how much she 'loved' me." He tried to sound condescending, but to Y/n he just sounded kind of hurt, maybe even a little sad.

"A witch's first love is almost always her only love. You were hers. I mean, if something were to happen to Stiles or if he were taken from me, I... Well, he's my heart, and no one can live without their heart, can they? I can imagine she would have felt the same." Peter finally turned his gaze to her, and for just a moment she could see something in his eyes, a glimmer of something not so terrible.

"I don't know what you see in Stiles." He diverted the conversation from himself. "He's just, well, he's Stiles." He grimaced in distaste, but Y/n still chuckled.

"That's exactly what I love about him. He's Stiles."

Peter looked up as a sudden determination settled within him. He peered around the pillar as the riders came closer. The first horse reared up just before it ran into the bench. Once it settled down the rider directed it around the object and as it passed Peter's hiding spot the wolf ran ahead and jumped onto his back. The rider tried to knock him off, throwing back his elbows while Peter managed to hang on. Forgetting that he had to keep out of sight Stiles watched Peter get further away, the man giving the teen one last look before looking forward and holding on. One of the riders spotted Stiles and threw his whip, wrapping it around his neck and throwing him to the tracks. While trying to catch his breath Stiles managed to push himself up to look at Peter, watching in amazement as he vanished through the rift with the riders.

...

Having decided to take turns watching out for any more guys with tow trucks, Y/n and Malia took the first watch while Lydia and Scott got a bit of shut eye in the Jeep. Malia shivered a bit, pulling her cardigan closer around her and tucking her hands under her arms to preserve her warmth. Noticing this Y/n held her hands out to her sister.

"What?" Malia looked between Y/n and her hands for a moment.

"Give me your hands." She requested. Malia gave her a strange look, but after receiving an impatient gesture she held her hands out to Y/n. Taking Malia's hands in her own Y/n's eyes glowed softly as she used her magic to channel warmth into the furless werecoyote. Malia let out a small sigh as she relaxed slightly, the warm feeling easing the tension she felt from being cold. Y/n smiled as her eyes dimmed and she let Malia's hands go. "Better?"

"Much. Thanks."

"No problem." The sisters shared a smile.

All of a sudden a roar ripped through the air, startling Scott and Lydia awake. "What the hell?" Scott muttered as he and Lydia climbed out of the Jeep to stand with the other two.

"Did you hear that?" Malia asked.

"I think all of Beacon Hills heard that." Lydia said.

"Who is it?" Scott wondered.

"It almost sounded familiar, didn't it?" Y/n asked Malia.

"I'm not sure, but I think I recognized it." Malia agreed.

"Go!" Lydia urged.

The three ran to the woods, Scott suggesting they split up to cover more ground. After searching for a while Scott jogged to meet back up with the girls. "Hey. Any luck?"

"Nothing." Y/n shook her head.

"He hasn't roared again." Malia added. "I've got a scent but..."

"There's something wrong with it." Scott finished.

"It smells like whoever it is, is burning." Just then there was another roar from the mystery werewolf. The three took off again, following the sound to a small clearing where they found a body still smoking. Before they could go closer Scott held his arm out in front of the girls, cautioning them to stay back. "I hear a heartbeat."

"Who is that?"

"I don't know, but I know the scent. Even through the barbecue."

"Let's see if we can figure it out." Y/n said, taking the first steps to move and kneel next to the severely burned man. Malia followed and crouched right next to her.

"How do you think he got here? There's no tracks. No fire." Scott asked, staying back a bit.

"Who knows in this town?" While Y/n and Malia were trying to recognize anything under the blackened flesh the man's eyes suddenly opened as he jerked up a bit.

The girls jumped back at the sudden action, Malia put her hand on Y/n's shoulder. The man's eyes flickered between the sisters and that's when they finally recognized him. "Oh, my God."

"Holy shit." Malia and Y/n spoke at the same time.

"Peter?" He slowly nodded.

Scott hurried over, kneeling on the other side of Peter. "Who's Peter?"

"Peter Hale."

"Our father."

Scott's brows drew together as he looked between them before slowly looking at Peter who already had his eyes on the Alpha. A voice echoed in Scott's head. "You were my Beta first..." Scott gasped as memories flooded his mind, images of fighting Peter in La Iglesia, Peter roaring in his Alpha form, and everything in between.

"Peter. Wh- wha-... He bit me. How could I forget him?"

"How did I forget him?" Malia also wondered.

"Ghost riders." Y/n said, looking between them.

Peter struggled to look down at his hand and that's when Malia noticed something. "He has something." He began to wheeze, grunting in pain as he laid there. Scott was the first to grab his hand and take some of his pain. Malia and Y/n followed his lead, lightly touching his hand and fingers taking some of his pain until he was able to fall unconscious for a while.

As he relaxed Y/n was able to reach into his hand to grab whatever it was he was holding. "What is it?" Scott asked. Y/n held up a set of keys dangling on a ring with a green bottle opener.

...

Back in the room where everyone else was Stiles looked up at the board, trying to piece together what Peter was trying to warb him about. "Pripyat, Bannack, Canaan, Beacon Hills." He muttered to himself, reading the towns that the riders presumably had visited before, and that's when he spotted it. His eyes narrowed on one name in particular. "Canaan." With that he snuck back into the room with the radio equipment, stepping around the wreckage and carefully working on the controls. He twisted some wires together, turned a few dials, and when he thought it was good enough he picked up the microphone and spoke into it.

...

Y/n and Scott sat in the Jeep together, the witch holding the keys they had gotten from Peter. She held one up, glancing at Scott. He gave a look, silently telling her they might as well try. Carefully she pushed the key into the ignition before turning it. The engine sputtered and Y/n sighed in frustration before she tried again, lightly pressing on the gas to get the engine to turn over. "Don't flood it." Scott warned.

"Do you even know what that means?" She asked as she looked at him.

"Not really." He said hesitantly. Y/n took a breath before she tried one more time. The lights turned on as the engine rumbled. Scott chuckled in surprise and Y/n sighed in relief. They smiled at each other and looked around, but the excitement slowly died. They didn't know what they were expecting to happen, but nothing seemed a little disheartening.

Scott jumped as the police radio screeched to life. As he went to turn it down a voice came through. "Hello?"

"Wait, wait. Hold on." Scott looked at Y/n as she called for him to stop, wondering why she did, when the voice called out again.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?"

Y/n's breath shuddered as she and Scott looked wide-eyed at each other. She quickly picked up the reciever, holding down the button before she spoke into it. "Stiles? Is that you?"

Scott stared at the reciever as he spoke into it too. "Stiles, are you there?"

"Scott? Y/n? Is that you?"

"Oh, my God, Stiles." Y/n breathed, smiling in relief. "It's us! We can hear you."

"Oh, my God, you know me? You remember me?"

"Stiles, is this... Is this you? Is this really you?" After all this time of doubts, she couldn't help but ask.

"Yeah, it's me. Do you remember the last thing I said to you?"

"You said..." She closed her eyes for a moment as the words came to her, a warmth lighting up within her chest and acting as a balm as it eased the emptiness a bit. "You said, 'remember I love you'." Stiles had gone silent, his mind reeling from hearing that she had actually managed to remember him, if only a little.

"Are you okay?"

"Where are you?"

"We're coming to get you."

"No, no, no. You can't. You won't be able to find me."

"S-Stiles, what... What are- what are you talking about? Just tell us where you are, and we'll- we'll come and-"

"Look, just remember this. Canaan, okay? You have to find Canaan. Just find Canaan."

Static suddenly came over the radio, signaling that their connection was cut off. "Stiles?" Y/n called.

"Stiles!"

Y/n closed her eyes as she rested her forehead on her hands, clutching the receiver as the warmth faded and the emptiness creeped back in at the loss of contact. "Stiles, please don't leave me again." She quietly begged.

~~~
Published: 4/5/23

Owwwwwie my heart T^T

Fun fact: I made the picture at the top of the chapter 😁 I honestly didn't plan to make it, but as I was writing the scene where Y/n unknowingly draws Stiles' portrait I had watched a few YouTube videos of that style of art so I could describe it properly and I thought "I wonder if I could do that myself?" So I tried it digitally and I think I did pretty good! I'm very proud of myself 🥰