chapter eighty-nine
memory found

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The Stallard house felt cold. Empty. Deadly. What's left of the pack felt their nerves shake under their skin. Scott's eyes widened in alarm as he saw the corpses of two Ghost Riders. The two Ghost Riders who had once been Amanda and Ben. Malia scrunched her nose, looking up to watch her sister rush up the stairs. The pack followed.

Lydia swallows thickly, her stomach churning at the memories of what had happened in this house. She looked at the photos on the walls. Photos of Kennedy that were frozen in times where her friend was once so much happier. So innocent. An overwhelming sadness fumed. Lydia's best friend. Malias sister. Scott's childhood crush and closest companion. Their alpha, once upon a time. A girl once so full of love and innocence was now nothing more than blood and rage.

Kennedy's room felt foreign now. In a way, it looked frozen in time too. Like it hadn't changed since sophomore year, when Kennedy Hale was Kennedy Stallard. When Ben Stallard was a deputy and closely tied with the Argent family. When Amanda Stallard was a ghost. The yellow walls were almost sickening. The photos of their lives made them all hurt and so angry.

Kennedy was on the floor, pulling out a box. "These are all of my diaries." She sighed as she opened the lid to reveal books and notebooks and papers inside. "I never threw them away once Ben started getting me them on my 11th birthday" She looked down, shaking her head. "I lost this box moving in with Derek."

Malia was the one to reach for the top notebook. She furrowed her brows, flipping through pages while Kennedy went to grab different clothes from her closet. "What are these going to do?" She asked.

"Hopefully help jog our memories." Lydia says as she reaches for another box. "This will have anything Kennedy has written about Stiles or Dani."

"How did it not get erased by the Ghost Riders?" Scott asks. Everything else had been wiped. Photos of Stiles and Dani, contact information, everything.

Kennedy looked up. "I think because the box is made of Mountain Ash. I lost this box when I moved in with Derek. It showed back up here when Ben and Amanda did." She muttered as she dug through her closet. "Scott, do you remember the day after you were turned? The day you met Allison?"

"Yeah." How could he forget?

"What was I wearing?"

Scott looked down in thought. That was over two years ago, and in a way, a life time ago. But that day was always burned into his memory. That was the day he met Allison. The day him and Kennedy met Derek Hale in the woods. He remembered pieces of that day. Him and Kennedy, and somebody else, walking through the forest to find his inhaler, which he lost after stumbling across Laura Hales body the night before. He hadn't been out there alone. He remembered Kennedy refusing to walk through a stream. It would ruin her shoes. He looked up finally. "You were wearing a dress. And, and a jacket, and some boots." He listed off. As he did, Kennedy started pulling items off the rack. A dark blue dress with pink and light blue flowers. A black leather jacket. And below, she pulled out a pair of black heeled ankle boots. Lydia and Malia raised their brows as Kennedy stood up straight, holding the dress over herself.

"Why are we looking at a dress you wore after Scott turned into a werewolf?" Malia questioned.

Kennedy smiled softly. "That was the night Stiles and I kissed for the first time." She said, looking between them all. She didn't add the other details. Scott knew, even if it made his heart ache. She shrugged. "It's good to have a visual." She said before putting it back in the closet, grabbing a new outfit to wear.

The group was in the tunnels again. Kennedy, Scott, Malia, and Lydia all scoured the tunnels and locked off doors and gates and just about any entrance. They'd closed the door to the Argent bunker, leaving the door of them in the large room.

Kennedy turned around slowly, looking at the freezer. It looked high-tech, in a way. She walks closer. "So, how cold does this thing get?" Asked Scott. The four of them stood around the machine. Kennedy stood between Lydia and Malia, taking a closer look.

"Cold enough for a Hellhound." Lydia replied, tilting her head. "It's not the same as the ice bath you gave Isaac but, it can lower your core temperature past anything a human can survive."

Malia looked between Kennedy and Lydia. "So what does freezing our asses off have to do with our memories?" She asked.

Lydia looked over. "It'll slow your heart rate, and put you in a trance-like state." She explained. Scott added how it was like hypnosis. Lydia nodded her head. "Hypnotic regression. If we can figure out how to work it."

Kennedy looked up, looking at all the different levers and buttons that could do just about anything. Malia, on the other hand, pointed to a couple buttons. "This says start, so, maybe it's not that complicated." She suggested.

But they could see the different dials and knobs with different functions and meanings. "It's complicated." Scott deadpanned.

"So, optimistically , how much time do you think we need to do this?" Asked Malia, looking towards her sister.

Kennedy shrugged. "As much time as Liam and Noah can buy us." She turns her head as Scott snaps open the door, letting them look inside the large metal casket, more or less. She let out a slow nervous breath. "None of us are claustrophobic, right?" She whispered.

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Everyone was quiet. Scott and Kennedy stood off to the corner as Lydia and Malia took a closer look at the freezer. She looked up at him with pursed lips, "Scott," She whispered. The McCall looked up at her. Her eyes were soft, sad in a way. Her skin was tinted read and her hair was long, unkept curls falling flat. "I'm so sorry."

His eyes flicked with hurt. "What do you mean?" He asked.

The Hale girl looked away, swallowing thickly. "This entire time, I've been trying to prove that all of this wasn't real. At first, I was just trying to prove that Stiles was real. That we missed him. And then I proved that we were never real. And I was right." She shrugged as she looked up at him. Scott clenched his jaw. "But I was hurting you. This entire time I was so busy trying to find Stiles I didn't even care that I was hurting my best friend." Scott watched as the auburn-haired girl shook her head. "Scott, I'm so sorry for everything."

Scott didn't know what to say. How to feel. This was more complicated than either of them had anticipated. Sure, at first, they knew something was off. Maybe Kennedy and Stiles had a past. But neither of them had anticipated that their relationship was all a facade of memories. All made up by Ghost Riders so they wouldn't remember Stiles. And even if they didn't know how fake or real this was, it felt real now. Scott's love for Kennedy still felt real in this moment, and he was so hurt knowing that it wasn't.

But it was wrong of him to ignore the signs. It was wrong of him to selfishly hope Kennedy would too. They needed to find Stiles. And Kennedy needed to find the person she loved, even if it wasn't Scott.

"You were doing the right thing." Scott said. His eyes were laced with pain. "We didn't know. But we do now, and we're going to remember him. We're going to save Stiles." He assured her. Kennedy nodded, smiling faintly. Scott pulled Kennedy in, hugging her tight. Kennedy wrapped her arms around his shoulders as she closed her eyes.

Fall of junior year. Kennedy and Scott looked around an old hotel room. They recognized it. This was the hotel they had stayed at when the lacrosse teams bus had broke down. The Darach, also known as Jennifer Blake and their english teacher, had put purple wolfsbane in Bobby Finstock's whistle. All of the werewolves had hallucinated that night.

Both Kennedy and Scott looked to their right, seeing a younger, pre-alpha Scott laying in his bed. They gasped as someone walked between them. Stiles Stilinski. They watched as Stiles opened the door to his and Scott's room. On the other side was Kennedy Hale. Her long dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulders as she looked at him expectantly. "Kennedy, welcome to the Three Musketeers meeting."

The two older teens watched as a sixteen year old Kennedy walked into the room, "Lydia was spraying our room with perfume and my head was hurting." She explained, jumping into Scott's bed. They watched, faintly smiling at the memory. Scott let out a painful groan as his friend landed on his stomach.

"Get off of me!" He laughed. Kennedy hummed, rolling over.

"I don't know, Scott, maybe you can sleep in the bathroom, this bed is nice!" Scott pushed Kennedy off of him, and the brunette girl laid next to Stiles, all of them looking at the ceiling.

It was strange to see the past. Both present-day Scott and Kennedy looked at each other before their past selves. "All right, so I have four." Says Stiles.

Scott rose a brow, "Four? You have four suspects?" The Darach, they remembered.

Stiles nods, "Yeah, it was originally ten. Well, nine technically, I guess. I had Derek on there twice." Kennedy smacked his chest, causing him to grunt in pain.

"So who's number one? Harris?"

"Just because he's missing doesn't mean he's dead." Stiles explained.

Kennedy looked at her boyfriend. "So if he's not dead, our chemistry teacher is out secretly committing human sacrifices." She stated, squinting at him with an unimpressed look. Present-day Scott looked at the redheaded Kennedy. She was giggling softly.

Stiles looked at her for a moment. "Yeah, I guess that just sounded way better in my head." He mumbled.

"Well, what if it's somebody else from school?" Scott
asked, "Like, you remember Matt? We didn't know that he was killing people."

Stiles sat up, "Excuse me? I'm sorry, what?" He stood up off the bed, and Kennedy and Scott sat up too. Now it felt eerie, the two werewolves staring at their past selves while Stiles talked. "I, yes, we did. I called that from day one, actually."

"Yeah, but we never really seriously thought that it was Matt."

Stiles pointed to himself, "I was serious. I was quite serious, actually. Deadly serious. No one listened to me." He explained.

Kennedy waved her hand, not wanting to talk about her stalker anymore. "Okay, so who were the other three?" She asked.

"Derek's sister, Cora. No one knows anything about her, and she's Derek's sister."

"I'm Derek's cousin and I'm not a suspect." Kennedy pointed out.

Stiles put his hands on his hips. "With hanging out with us, solving mysteries, attending lacrosse practices, school, and getting your nails done with Lydia, when would you have the time to kill people?" Scott and Kennedy looked at each other, knowing he was right. "Alright, next, your boss."

"My boss?"

"Yeah, your boss." Stiles said, "I don't really like the whole Obi-Wan thing he's got going on, you know. It freaks me out." Kennedy and Scott looked at him blankly. "Oh, my God. Have you still not seen Star Wars?"

Scott shrugged, "I swear, if we make it back alive, I will watch the movie." He said, "And you can take Kennedy on a Star Wars movie date."

Stiles scratched his nose, "Just makes me crazy."

"Who was the last one?"

Stiles sighed, looking at Kennedy, "Lydia." Kennedy frowned as Stiles sat next to her. "She was totally controlled by Peter, and she had no idea, so," Kennedy rolled her eyes, the three of them falling back onto the beds at the same time. There was no way Lydia was the one that was doing this. It wasn't possible. Stiles's hand found hers, and they looked at each other, smiling.

The two of them pulled away from their hug, staring into each others eyes with a lightness. Things were going to be okay. They knew that. Regardless of whoever tried to get between them. From Matt Daehler, to the Darach, to the nogtistune, to Derek, to Theo Raeken, and even the Ghost Riders. Scott and Kennedy were best friends. Once upon a time Kennedy had been his Partenaire Lycan. The memories they had were real, in some shape or form. Their bond wasn't something that anyone could break. Not even each other.

Scott stepped back as he tugged his shirt over his head. Kennedy smiled kindly as she took it from his hands. They turned to the others, walking in the direction of the freezer. Malia clocked the start button. Instantly, the machine began to make whirring sounds, followed by beeping.

"Okay, it's doing something." Malia said as she looked over at Scott. "You ready?"

There was a nervous silence in this. Of course there was. Kennedy looked over at Scott as he slowly reached for the door. Nobody said a word as Scott slowly stepped inside. He closed the door, looking at Lydia on the other side. Kennedy swallowed her nerves as she started sealing it shut.

Malia looked at Scott, giving him a reassuring nod. Lydia looks up, "Remember, this will get cold enough to kill you. So if something feels wrong or like, it's not working,"

"It's going to work." Scott cut off the Martin girl.

"I hope you're not saying that because you think I know what I'm doing."

Scott shook his head. "I'm saying that because I know you can figure it out." He told her.

Kennedy and Lydia looked at each other. They could only hope. Lydia clenched her jaw as she reached for the dials, turning them all to the coldest level. Air began to push through the contraption, and quickly Scott began to shiver.

"Okay, alright, yeah, that's cold. Really cold."

"So what are we supposed to do? Talk to him?" Mali asked as she looked at the two girls with clairvoyant abilities. "Help him remember? Wait till he turns into a werewolf freezy pop?"

Kennedy inhaled sharply. "We need to keep him focused. Guide him through it until he remembers." She explained as she looked back at the window into the chamber. Scott was shivering, his entire body tensing up.

Lydia took the lead. "Scott, you have to think about him. Concentrate on Stiles." She reminds him. "Try to picture him in your head. Think about what he looks like, things he said. Anything Kennedy has shown you in her visions."

They all looked around at the machine making another noise. Malia looked back at Scott, almost hard to see him through the cold air. "I don't like this. Somethings wrong."

"Give it a few more seconds." Lydia mumbled.

Scott shivered and trembled. He was so cold it hurt. He scrunched his face in discomfort, letting out a grunt as his hand smacked against the window. Malia stepped forward. "I'm getting him out of there."

As Mali reached for the handle, Kennedy grabbed her wrist. "Don't touch it." She said. Malia was surprised, looking up to see Kennedy's stern gaze.

"Guys, look."

The sisters looked back at Scott. Slowly, his hand slipped away from the window. He was still, relaxed. He was no longer struggling with the cold. Everyone looked at each other. "You need to do it." Lydia whispered, looking over at Kennedy.

The werewolf girl looked over. "What? Why me?"

"You and Scott had the strongest connections to each other and to Stiles." Lydia informs her. "You need to do this."

Kennedy looked at Scott again. His relaxed posture. He almost looked asleep. She stepped forward, looking him over as she took in a shaky breath. "Scott? Can you hear me?" Slowly, Scott's head lifted up. His eyes opened, and staring back at her were glowing red eyes. She gasped, looking up at him and nodding her head. That was a sign. It was only for a moment, his eyes slowly fading back to brown and his head starting to droop. Lydia shoved her friend. "Scott, don't fall asleep. You have to keep your eyes open."

Scott was in his house. He was going up the stairs.

"It's not sleep. I think he's losing consciousness." Lydia explained. She looked over at Scott. "And if you do that, I think we're gonna lose you." Scott's mind was reeling. His head felt like it was everywhere and nowhere at once.

"Scott!" Malia shouted. "Stay awake. Scott!"

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Scott was in the hallway. His home. The place he grew up in. A safe place for him and his friends. He looked around as he heard a strangely familiar voice.

"You tried to kiss her, Scott, okay? You tried to kiss Kenny, and then you made out with Lydia." He looked at the hall, seeing a flicker of someone sitting just outside of his door. He gasped as he looked down. It was Kennedy and who must have been Stiles.

"Stiles, please let me out." Scott heard a last version of himself say. This was one of his first full moons. He remembered this.  "It's the full moon, I swear. You know I wouldn't do any of this on purpose." The memory began to light up. Stiles, buzz cut and all, staring at the wall and the stitching of his jeans. Across from him, was Kennedy. She was so young. She moved slowly, moving to sit next to the human boy and taking his hand in hers. Scott remembered this now. He had been out of control. Allison had stopped talking to him after the night they were all trapped in the school. Scott had tried to kiss Kennedy. She rejected him and told Stiles.

"And it's killing me. I feel completely hopeless." Scott called out, tied to the radiator in his room. Kennedy looks at Stiles's hand, her finger brushing his knuckles. Stiles looked so sad. So upset with his friend and the way things had gone. "Just, please, let me out."

Stiles looks down, "I can't." He whispers.

In the real world, Scott isn't with Stiles and Kennedy. He's in a frozen chamber. The girls watched as Scott looked around, almost lost in thought. "Scotty," Kennedy whispered. "Try to find him." Scott's eyes were moving rapidly. Flashes of a boy he once knew. "Try to find him in your memories." It felt like so much. Different moments. Different memories all flooding through him at once. It was too much. Things were clear and blurry. "Find him in any memory. Good or bad."

Everything felt like it was closing in.

Malia Tate watches as Scott seems to be panicking. "What's happening to him?" She asked the other two girls.

"I don't know."

"He doesn't look good. He looks," Mali struggles to find the word. "Lost."

Kennedy nods. "I think he is." She says softly. Lydia and Malia look at her. "When Deaton had Lydia do that automatic writing, he said I couldn't do it because the amount of information would send my powers into overdrive. What if it's like that?" She inquires. "Maybe he's getting buried under all of the memories, overloaded. He's known Stiles for years, who knows how much is coming out."

"So what do we do to help him?"

Lydia slammed her hand on the door. "Scott? Scott, so you hear me?" Scott was lost, not looking at anyone. "Scott, you have to try and focus!" Kennedy shook her head, unable to figure out how to help Scott ground himself. She watched as he grabbed his head. The voices were too loud. She knew what it was like. She had been through it before.

Malia turned around. "You hear that?"

The two girls watched as Malia walked towards a blocked off tunnel. "Thunder?" Asked Lydia.

"Maybe."

Lydia sighed. "This isn't working."

"Then we have to figure something else out." Malia walked over. "Is he gonna freeze to death in there?"

"If his memories don't kill him." Kennedy mumbled.

"There has to be another way to do this. Isn't there?"

Lydia shrugged, shaking her head as she looked between the werecoyote and Scott. "I don't know. This is my first attempt at trying to open a dimensional rift in space-time." She said sharply. "So I'm kind of fumbling around in the dark, okay?"

Kennedy looked up. "Malia said he's lost, right?" She looked towards Lydia. "You're not the only one."

Malia frowned. "What?" She asks.

Lydia's eyes widen in realization. "I'm not the only one fumbling around in the dark." She says. "Maybe have to treat this more like actual hypnosis." Mali shakes her head. She didn't get it. "They use images to guide you through memories. Like, a stairwell. The steps take you down through one year of your life to the next. That's how they regress you back."

"I get it. So he needs to imagine something. What do we tell him?"

The two look at Kennedy, who sucks in a slow breath. She steps forwards, a hand on the door. "Scott?" She called out. "Scott, can you hear me?" She watched as he scrunched his face in pain. "You're going to have to listen to me. Got it? Imagine this. Imagine you're in the high school. Picture yourself in the high school, in the hallway where the lockers are. Just imagine standing there, Scott. That's where your memories are. They're all in the lockers. Each locker has a different memory of Stiles." Kennedy sighed desperately.

"You're in the high school, Scott. You're there. You're standing there now."

It was dark. But it was quiet. The hallways of Beacon Hills high school were empty. Scott looked around, his mind finally clear from the broken fragments of Stiles's memory. He looked ahead. He looked at the locker a few feet in front of him. He looked down the rows upon rows. The never ending memories of his friend.

He looks down, grabbing the door of the first locker.

Kennedy stood on the other side of the chamber, looking over. "This is crazy."

"Kennedy, you're the only one who remembers Stiles. You're the only one who's ever had your memories wiped. You're the only one with visions of other people's memories!" Lydia listed off, waving her hands. "You got this."

"Kennedy!" Scott's voice caused them all to turn around. "I need your help, I don't think I can do this. I can't figure it out."

The Hale shook her head. "Keep looking, Scotty." She says softly.

"There are memories, but I don't know which ones the right one. What am I supposed to do?"

Kennedy licked her lips. Her heart was pounding. "Find another memory. Just find another memory." She says.

Lydia looks up, seeing ice forming around the glass. "It's getting too cold." She looks at the dials on the side. "He's getting too cold."

Malia looked up from a piece of silver. "What if it's not enough to remember him?" Malia asked. "What if it's some kind of connection he's supposed to make because of a memory? Like Kennedy and the Hale fire."

"Like an emotional connection?" Lydia asked.

"That could be why it worked for Stilinski, right?" Malia asked.

Lydia nods her head. "He wasn't just remembering someone. He was remembering his son." He says, looking at Kennedy.

Kennedy whipped around to the chamber. "Scotty? Listen to me." Kennedy blinked as she felt her heart tug. "At the start of this year, Stiles was trying to find a place for the three of us to live after graduation." She says as she looks down. Her throat began to burn. "We were getting an apartment together. Malia said that it's not always a good idea to live with your friends. Even your best friends." Malia and Lydia shared looks. Malia nods. The memory faint, but still there. "But Stiles said it wouldn't matter because you weren't just friends." Kennedy felt a tear roll down her face as she smiled. "You guys were more like brothers."

Scott opens a locker, a red glow emitting on his face. Inside the locker. It was an object. A glowing red flare, staring back at him. He reached for it, his fingers wrapping around it as something became more clear. An image.

The night at the Glen Capri. The night all of the werewolves were affected by the purple wolfsbane. Scott was affected too. Allison, Lydia, Kennedy, and Stiles stood feet away from their best friend. Scott McCall was soaked in gasoline. He blamed himself. For what happened to Derek. For all the pain everyone had been through. He was nobody. At least, that's what he thought.

Stiles's eyes welled up with tears. He and Kennedy stood next to each other. Scott's best friends. The people he trusted most. Stiles took a step forward, "Scott, just listen to me, okay?" Kennedy was crying. Stiles was desperate. He had to save Scott. "You're not no one. Okay? You're someone, you're," The human boy shook his head, "Scott, you're my best friend." Scott cried as he looked up at Stiles. "Okay? And I need you." The two of them stared at each other. The lost look of sadness on Scott's face. The determined, love-filled desperation on Stiles's. The human boy's lip trembled before he spoke. "Scott, you're my brother." The Stilinski looked down at the gasoline on the ground. The same gasoline Scott had dumped all over himself. Stiles let out a shaky exhale"All right, so," Kennedy sucked in a breath as Stiles stepped into the puddle. "Do if you're gonna do this, then, I think you're just gonna have to take me with you." Stiles grabbed onto the flare.

Scott looked at him, his love for his best friend coming through over everything. That was his brother. The person who'd been there through it all. Scott's grip loosened as he felt Stiles's tighten. Gently, but quickly, Stiles started to take it from his grip.

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The chamber door opened, and Scott came tumbling out. Kennedy and Malia grabbed on to him as he fell to the floor. "What's wrong?" He looked up, looking at Lydia who crouched in front of him. "Why'd you bring me out?"

"Your heart rate dropped. You were gonna die." Lydia explained to him.

"We had to."

Scott looked around, he looked over at the chamber. "But then, but then nothing happened, did it?" He looked over at the others. "It didn't work." He said softly. Kennedy didn't say anything, her hands rubbing his cold back in an almost soothing way. He looked back, standing up. "I'm going back in."

Lydia stood in front of the chamber, Malia and Kennedy pulling him back. "No you're not."

"It was working. Something was happening. I could feel it."

Lydia shook her head. "But nothing was happening out here." She exasperates "Nothing, Scott. All we saw was you freezing to death."

Scott inhales, taking a step towards the chamber. Malia tugs him back. "You're still too cold." She says.

Scott looks down. She was right. He could feel the chill in his bones. His hands were still shaking. He looked up at Kennedy. "We can't give up now." He says.

"We're not." Kennedy whispers.

"It's my turn." Malia blurts before peeling off her shirt. Kennedy and Scott look away in alarm. "I have plenty of memories with Stiles, too." She defends.

Lydia shakes her head. "It's too dangerous."

Kennedy looked between Scott and Malia. Scott shook his head. "Not as dangerous as doing nothing." The McCall said, looking up. "She'll probably handle the cold better than me."

"If it's all about connection, then Stiles was the person who helped me while Kennedy was gone. He was one of the first people I connected with in a long time." Malia explained, shrugging her shoulders.

Scott looked over at Kennedy and Lydia. "She'll need a visual."

Kennedy didn't know what to think. Malia had a point. Though the memories were lost, they both knew that when Kennedy had gone off to France with Isaac, Stiles stayed and helped Malia. They'd became good friends. She looked at Lydia. The Martin girl was even less sure. But, as she watched Kennedy nod her head slowly, she sighed. "Okay, I think I have an idea. But Malia, if your heart rate goes down like Scott's, or if we think you're going to freeze to death-"

"Then get me the hell out of there."

Malia climbed inside the chamber, Scott latching the door. Kennedy stood on the outside, looking up at the window. Lydia was the one to start Malia off.

Malia was in the library, looking around at the disheveled books and chaos. She walked over pages, looking around in confusion.

"Can you see the books?"

"I see them."

Lydia's voice was echoing, like she was with Malia but not physically. "Concentrate on them. The books on the shelves are your memories." Malia looked up, the aisles upon aisles almost intimidating. "Everything that's ever happened to you. Find the shelf that has all of your memories of Stiles."

Malia looked around. How was she supposed to do that? "Try to find a memory where you made some kind of connection with him." She looked down, a section of books looking almost familiar. She reached down. An Exposition Workshop. She frowned, flicking open the pages.

It was Eichen House. Kennedy and Stiles had been there. It was her first time with them. Knowing them. Kennedy and her had no idea they were siblings. But they knew they had a bond. And Stiles. Stiles was in trouble. But he was kind.

But she did punch him.

"Did you find something?"

"I definitely connected." Malia said sarcastically. My fist with his face is what she didn't add. She tosses the book down, picking up another one.

Memories. Memories of Stiles helping her during her transitions. Stiles and Kennedy. Stiles and Stiles and Stiles. He had been so kind, but he had been so kind to her sister.

It was a silly memory. One where Malia had came over to the Stilinski residence. Kennedy was in the kitchen, she was making something. Malia could smell it. She was cooking a garlic parmesan chicken. It was her favorite meal growing up.

But Malia and Stiles were outside, sitting on the patio that faced the backyard. "She loves you, you know." Stiles blurted. Malia looked over, curious. "Kennedy. She loves you."

Malia's eyebrows crinkled. "Yeah."

Stiles looked out at the yard, bouncing his leg anxiously. "Kennedy's been through a lot." He said as he tilted his head. "She's lost a lot of people." Malia watched as he looked back at her. "She's never had a sister before. She doesn't want to lose that."

"She won't lose me." Malia deadpanned. She quilted at Stiles, watching him. "You love her, don't you?"

She could hear his scoff as he shook his head. "More than anything." He whispered.

"Do you want to marry her?"

Stiles was quiet for a moment. She watched as he looked down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers. His thumb grazed his ring finger. as if trying to picture himself married. For a moment, he pondered. He looked up, a small, gentle smile on his lips. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." Malia was the silent one this time. She looked him over, thinking over everything she knew about him. How much he'd helped her. How much he'd helped Kennedy. How much he cared for her sister. She adjusted her posture and tilted her chin up.

"Good. You'd be a good brother in-law."

Stiles raised a brow. "You think so?"

"Don't push it."

Malia could hear Kennedy and Lydia calling out for her. She blinked back tears as she dropped the book to the floor. She remembered Stiles. How good he was. She looked up, reaching for the next book. She gasped out as she felt a cold rush over her. Ice began to cover the books, reaching her skin. She breathed heavily, watching as ice traveled up her hand, her arm.

Her eye shot open. She was back in the chamber, and she felt like she couldn't breathe. She struggled for air as her hand smacked the window. Kennedy and Scott rushed over, pulling open the door. "Guys, look." Kennedy whipped around, lights around them, the ground shaking. "Something's happening."

Scott looked over, seeing ice forming over the window. Kennedy stared unlatching the door as Lydia turned off the machine. When it did, Scott grabbed Malia as she fell into him. Kennedy stumbled back, her eyes wide in worry. Scott rushed her to a chair so he could grab her a blanket. Lydia and Kennedy began turning the machine off.

"I remember him now. I can see him in my head." Scott says, looking over at the girls. He wrapped a blanket around Malia.

"So can I." The Tate followed.

"He's more real now than he's ever been. If we can bring Stiles back, we can bring everyone back." Scott explained.

Lydia shook her head. "There's a huge difference in being a vivid memory and an actual corporeal human being." She explained to them all.

"Which is why it should be Kennedy." Scott said. The Hale girl blinked in surprise. "When I was remembering him, I was also remembering the two of you together." She sucked in a slow breath, her eyes softening as she looked up at Scott. He didn't look heart broken, or sad. He looked hopeful. "I don't think anyone had a connection like you guys."

Malia sat up from her stool. "I saw it, too." She confirmed. Kennedy looked over. "You have to try, K."

"But if Kennedy is overwhelmed by memories, who knows what that will do?" Lydia asks, "She could die, or kill all of us."

Kennedy shook her head. "That's a risk I'm willing to take." She said as she turned around. She looked at the chamber, her eyes studying it as if it was challenging her. She swallowed the lump in her throat, "Put me in, coach."

━━━━༺❀༻━━━━

Malia held Kennedy's top, putting it on the table. Kennedy stood at the door, sucking in a slow nervous breath. "Don't let me out unless I'm one breath away from dying." Kennedy blurts. The others look at her in alarm. "I'm going to remember him."

Lydia seemed so unsure, but she nodded anyways. She stepped to the side as Scott opened the door to the freezer. Kennedy looked ahead, trying to brace herself. She took a slow step in, turning and facing the window as her friends shut the door.

Scott slowly latches it. Malia stands there. "It's gonna work." Malia says. Though even she isn't sure who she's trying to convince. The group all share wary looks. Lydia presses her lips into a line as she starts to turn the nods.

A wave of cold air. The entire chamber drops to a freezing temperature. Kennedy exhales, her entire body tensing up as she feels everything hurt. It was a type of cold that would certainly kill anyone.

"My mother had a hypnotist who helped her quit smoking." Lydia says as she watches Kennedy. "She had me see the same one when I was ten."

Scott looked at her. "You smoked when you were ten?"

Lydia looked at him, confused and disturbed. "No. I bit my fingernails." She says, rolling her eyes. She sighed as she looked at Kennedy. "Kennedy, I need you to take a deep breath and close your eyes." The Hale girl inhales, her eyes fluttering shut. "Feel the muscles in your body begin to relax. Your hands are relaxing. Your eyelids are relaxing." Malia and Scott look at each other, and then Kennedy. In the chamber, her long red hair is cascading over her shoulders. Her eyes are shut, but they could see the faint movement of her eyes underneath the lid. "As you relax, imagine yourself in your home you grew up in. The Stallard House."

Kennedy's eyes open, she's standing in the middle of her upstairs hallway. The hallway of her home, where she spent six years living with Ben Stallard. Six years she believed she was a different person. Where she believed she was a normal girl. As Kennedy took a step forward, she looked down. No longer was she wearing her jeans and a tank top. She was wearing a dress. The same navy blue dress with pink and pale blue flowers. The same black boots that she refused to walk through a creek in. The same black leather jacket. She looked almost exactly how she did almost three years ago. The night her and Stiles kissed. The night they decided they were too stubborn to give up a bet from when they were young and dumb.

Surrounding her are photos. Photos of her at her tenth birthday, a photo of her and Ben at Disney World when she was twelve, school photos throughout middle school and high school, photos of her in softball, and school dances. She looked at the doors. One of them leads to Ben's office. Another leads to Kennedy's bedroom. Another leads to the extra bedroom Scott and Stiles would sleep in. And another is the bathroom.

She looked ahead, walking to the most familiar room in the house. Her bedroom. Her families yellow walls that had been covered in posters and tapestries as years passed. The closet on the right wall which was filled with her clothes. Her dresser on the same wall as the door was covered in clutter. Her large bed with her paisley-patterned comforter. Her dark teal ottoman that had a yellow blanket layered on top.

The platform to the left side of her room, which only had her desk and a full length mirror. She looked around. It was the same as it was in 2011. No detail had differed. Down to the photos on her walls of her friends.

"The box of your diaries is under your bed. Each entry is a memory of Stiles."

Kennedy sunk to her knees, slowly pulling out the wooden box. Her eyebrows twitched, her fingers grazing the triskelion symbol carved into the top. She reached for the latch, clicking it open with a familiar ease.

She sucked in a breath as she looked at each diary. Diaries from her entire life. She swallowed thickly as she reached for the first one.

"Kennedy Dawn, you look absolutely beautiful,"

Sixteen year old Kennedy turns around, her brown hair whisking over her shoulders as she sees Stiles Stilinski in front of her. They each looked so young. Kennedy in her purple winter formal dress and her long brown hair. Stiles with his buzz cut and a suit that fit him just a little off. She smiled softly, brushing her hands over her dress.

"Would you like to dance with me?"

The teenage girl smiles softly, "Of course," She hums, taking his hand. The two slowly walk to the middle of the dance floor. Stiles feels his heart race as her arms loop around his neck, and he instinctively wraps his own arms around her waist. "So, how's your date?"

Stiles had gone with Lydia. Stiles groans. "I wish it was more eventful." He chimes, the two moving swiftly over the floor. I wish it had been you, is what he didn't say. "You know, I've been thinking about the last two months, how much has changed." Kennedy nods, "And I just can't believe we're still, like, best friends."

Kennedy giggles, looking down. "Stiles, I don't think there's anything that can stop me from being friends with you." She explains. Stiles's heart races for just a moment at her comment. "You've always been there for me. I think I'd go crazy if you weren't my friend."

She blinked, looking at the pages as the memory of a boy she once knew fought for the surface. The winter formal. That was the night she remembered everything. The night they had stopped Peter Hale. Her father. The night she learned everything was a lie. Her memories of the fire. Of Kate Argent. The night she triggered her werewolf side after years of it being dormant.

"Try to find a memory of Stiles." This time it was Scott's voice. Her best friend. Her voice of reason. The moral compass. The alpha of her pack. "A memory where you felt a connection with him."

Kennedy flipped the page, looking down.

"I need you to stay here," Stiles says. They were in the police station, looking for the keys to get Isaac Lahey out of the jail cell before he turned. Someone else had the keys. Someone that worked for Gerard Argent. It was Kennedy's first full moon. Her eyes were flickering between their normal color and gold.

Her eyes widen. She looked him over trying to tell if it was a joke. "What? No,"

"Ken, they have wolfsbane. If they see you, they will kill you." Stiles explains, grabbing her by her shoulders. The look in his eyes. The softness and the concern . Kennedy purses her lips, letting Stiles move her just out of sight. "I'll be right back," The human boy spun on his heel, walking out of the room. Kennedy tried to slow her breathing, focusing on Stiles.

Stiles. Stiles. Stiles.

Before he can run, Stiles ran into the hunter Allison had shot with an arrow. Kennedy's mouth fell open as she heard him struggle, being dragged away. Her eyes glowed their bright gold, but Kennedy couldn't stop it, not now. The fire alarm was blaring. A growl escaped her lips as she stepped into the hall, walking towards the cells. Stiles is thrown on the ground. He breathes heavily as he tries and scramble to his feet. The hunter looks down at him, before hearing the sound of growling. He looks up, and so does Stiles.

Kennedy glared him down, her golden eyes and fangs staring back at the hunter. Stiles looked over, "Uh oh," The hunter and Kennedy stopped for a second, looking over at where Isaac's cell was. Or, rather, whats left of it. The hunter turned back to the girl, holding up the needle when a figure jumped at him. Stiles fell back, landing at Kennedy's feet. It was Isaac Lahey.

Stiles breathed heavily as he scrambled behind a fallen table. Isaac's eyes land on him, and he growled, stepping towards him. Kennedy jumped into action, grabbing Isaac and throwing him to the side. Stiles's jaw dropped as she stood in front of him protectively, not letting Isaac near. The newly turned werewolf stands, letting out another growl when a loud, scary, horrific roar fills everyones ears. Isaac backed up in fear, cowering into a ball as Derek roared at him. She doesn't look back, instead, she looks at Stiles. He was surprised when he saw her soft eyes and concerned frown. She kneeled in front of him.

"Are you okay?" She whispered, cupping his cheek. His skin was so soft. So warm. So familiar. He didn't know how to answer her. So, he smiled, nodding slowly.

Stiles stood, knowing she was upset by her expression. He slowly approached her, his arms pulling her to his chest. He felt her chest pounding against his own, causing him to hold on to her tighter. The girl closed her eyes, inhaling Stiles's scent. It had similarities to Scott and Noah's, and even a similarity to Derek's. It was a teenage boy's smell, mixed with some deodorant and his shower products. It wasn't just a scent. She knew that, even if she wasn't willing to admit it.

Stiles looks up, causing Kennedy to open her eyes. Noah Stilinski and his deputies stood there. The two looked down, staring at the man, and then the broken cell. "Uh, he did it." Stiles murmured, pointing at the man. Kennedy giggled, hiding her face in Stiles's chest. He felt his own heart skip, the girl of his dreams hiding her face in his chest, the most beautiful girl he has probably ever seen, is right here. Heat spreads across his chest, and he looked down, attempting to hide it

Kennedy raised a brow, closing the notebook and tossing it to the side. She needed more. Something, anything else.

"Find another memory. Keep looking for Stiles. Find another memory."

Kennedy reached for a dark green journal. It was her last one, that she had wrapped up just before she turned eighteen. She flipped it open, skimming the words as another memory came through.

She was dying.

Kennedy laid there in the road, unmoving. Her clothes were stained with blood. It was seeping on to the pavement. She had tried to save Lydia. She had caught Theo Raeken. She had lost. And as Theo climbed back into his car where Lydia was, Kennedy was stuck staring at the sky. She could feel the coolness of the night air over her body like a blanket. Her blood which began to pool around her stained her clothes, her skin. She could feel strands of her hair on her face, but she couldn't move. She didn't even know if she could talk.

A hot tear rolled down the side of her face as she thought about all the things she'd never be able to do. She'd never be able to have that big 18th birthday party she always wanted, graduate, go to Stanford, have kids, get married. She'd never be able to see Malia at her first job with a frown on her face. She'd never be able to see Lydia finally happy with someone. She'd never see Scott or Stiles again. The two most important people in her life were soon to be ripped away from her.

Lights entered Kennedy's vision, but she didn't move. She stared up at the stars once more as she heard the sound of a car door opening and shutting, and running footsteps.

"Kennedy!"

It was Stiles. His heart sank as he stumbled to the scene. Blood. There was so much blood. He sank to his knees, seeing Kennedy's struggling breaths as he pulled her upwards. Finally, a sound escaped the girl's lips as she whimpered in pain. Her hand wrapped around Stiles's arm as she clung on to him. He was all she wanted in that moment, she realized.

Shaky breaths escaped her lips as she looked up at him. "I'm sorry," She quietly said. She clutched onto him as tight as her weak hands could.

"No, Kennedy, no," Stiles panicked as tears threatened to spill. He shook his head. "You'll be okay. You're gonna be okay."

Stiles's eyes finally met her's. Hazel meeting brown. He could see it. The light fading. She smiled softly, "Stiles, I need, I need to-"

He shook his head. "No. Ken, please,"

"I need to tell you I'm sorry," Kennedy said as she inhaled deeply. Every part of her hurt. "And I love you. I, I didn't-"

"Ken, I can't. I can't lose you." He told her. Stiles's clothes now stained themselves with blood. There was so much blood. The regrets of their last conversations sunk into his skin. All the awful things he said. He was just so angry. And the last memories were of him telling the love of his life she was a killer. Stiles held onto her body closer as he looked down.

Kennedy smiled weakly. "You'll never lose me," She said as she reached up, her hand softly touching his face. His skin was soft under her touch. Stiles cried as he slowly shook his head.

Stiles's mouth parted slightly as he watched the light finally disappear into nothingness. Kennedy's hand fell from his face, landing on the bloodied pavement. A sob. That's all that could be heard. Stiles sobbed as he pulled Kennedy close. His face buried into her neck as he cried. That's all he could do, was cry. Stiles's fingers raked through Kennedy's hair. He cradled her body as he prayed to whatever higher power there was. He couldn't lose her. She deserved more than this. She deserves so much more.

"Please don't leave me."

Kennedy gasped out as she dropped the book, pushing herself away. She choked on a sob as she held her chest. Everything hurt. Her entire body shook as she looked away. She looked up at the wall, a photo of her and Stiles on her cork board of memories. She didn't know that outside of the chamber, her friends watched as her eyes turned white.

She slid against the floor, feeling the memories slamming into her at once. Her head was pounding. It felt like she was being turned to mush. Her entire body was aching in pain. She was crying, clutching the floor as she looked at a photo of her and Stiles, sophomore year. Her brown hair in their perfect curls. His buzz cut. Their eyes so full of youth and light.

"We won."

Kennedy turned to Stiles, a smile on her face. There they were, outside it Scott's house. Sophomore year was ending. Soon, the three of them would be spending their summers together. "Yeah, yeah we did." She says softly. "Would it be wrong of me to say that I made the biggest win?"

Stiles rose a brow, "What would that be?" He asked.

Kennedy smiled. She reached over, planting a kiss on Stiles's lips. "I got you." She said softly.

The teenage boy chuckled, shaking his head wildly. "Are you kidding me? I think I'm the real winner here." He began. Kennedy stared at him questioningly. Stiles waved his arms back and forth. "Hello, I got the most popular girl in Beacon Hills to like me, and now you're my-" Kennedy raises a brow as Stiles pauses. "Are you my girlfriend?" He asks.

Kennedy shrugs, "You haven't properly asked me yet." She says, climbing out of the car. Stiles practically threw himself out, rushing after her. The two of them stood in front of the jeep, facing each other with innocent looks. It was pure. It was genuine. It was hopelessly romantic.

"Kennedy Dawn Hale, will you be my girlfriend?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

On the outside of her mind, outside of that freezer, her friends all watched as Kennedy began to cry. They watched as bloody tears rolled down her face, just like the night in the parking lot. "It happened." Lydia whispered. They watched as Kennedy let out a wail, a painful cry as she slammed her hands into the walls. "Get her out."

Scott and Malia moved quickly. As soon as Scott opened the doors, Kennedy threw herself out into his arms. Scott grabbed onto her tightly, rubbing her back as he tried not to shiver from the cold touch of her skin. She clutched onto him, screaming and sobbing as waves of emotion came over her. Malia and Lydia sunk down.

"I was there." Kennedy croaked, "I was the last person to see him."

Scott pulled away, his hands cupping her face as he looked her over. He tried to wipe the blood away from her face. His eyes filled with worry. "Where? When did you see him?" He asks.

She looked at him. Her eyes filled with tears. "The Ghost Riders. When they took him." She says softly as she shook her head.

"You're gonna forget me."

Kennedy shook her head. "I won't. I had a vision of this Stiles, I won't! " She sobbed, looking at the backseat where she sat in a vision of this very moment.

"Then you know you will." Tears rolled down Kennedy's face as she shook her head. She had seen this, why didn't she realize sooner? Stiles's hands were entwined with hers. "Just try to find some way to remember me, okay?" He asked softly. Kennedy nodded her head, "Remember how you were the first girl I ever danced with? Or how I totally confessed my love to you like twice in the most cheesy ways? Or how about the first time we kissed after the bet? Remember how you saved my life?"

Kennedy smiled as she choked on another sob, "You saved my life too." She said as she looked at Stiles, their hands holding on. Stiles looked at her for a moment, knowing he wouldn't have much time.

"Just remember..." Stiles whispered cupped her face in his hands. Kennedy closed her eyes as his hands grazed her skin and his lips softly pressed against hers. His hands wrapped themselves in her hands again as his eyes met hers. "Remember I love you."

Kennedy shook her head as she sobbed. Malia was quiet as she slid Kennedy's shirt on for her, letting the girl clutch on to them as she sobbed. "I never said it back." Kennedy looked up at her sister, whose eyes were laced with confusion. "I never said it back!"

The room started to change. A strange light emitted from above. Kennedy stood up, looking around as the walls began to shake. Things began to fall off the shelves. Kennedy spun around, her eyes landing on the doorway to the tunnels.

Her friends watched as she got up, running to the door. She snapped it open. pushing it with her strength as she looked down the tunnel. A bright light was shining at her. She blinked, shaking her head as she looked ahead. A bright light that almost hurt. She couldn't even see anything.

And then she did.

Slowly, a figure emerged from the light. She didn't need to see his features to know who it was. As her eyes welled up with tears and smiled in disbelief. She knew it was him. She knew it was Stiles. Flickering. He was coming back. She remembered him. She loved him.

She loved Stiles.