"I'm sorry, what?"

She huffed and stomped her foot in frustration. "Okay, no offense, but I was actually trying to get to Ginny."

"What do you even-?"

"It's just-" June really didn't seem to care about what Lydia was saying - "it's not an exact practice. Actually, I'm kind of fumbling around in the dark, here. This magic doesn't really exist except for me, and she's a lot easier to talk to when it comes to this stuff. So-"

"June!" June stopped her rambling and watched as Lydia step closer to her. June appeared calm, but Lydia was in shock. She wasn't sure how she was moving, but Lydia was thankful she could. Eventually she reached June, and slowly reached out a hand to touch her face. She jumped in surprise when she felt the soft skin, the warmth.

"You're real?"

June shrugged, "Sort of."

Lydia paused, searching her face for expression she could place. After a brief moment, she whispered, "I'll take it," before throwing her arms around June's neck. She buried her face into her neck, and could faintly smell the scent of nature that was perfectly captured in her shampoo. Lydia always meant to ask about it, but never did. She felt June wrap her arms around her waist, and Lydia nearly cried.

"What do you mean 'sort of'?" Lydia sniffled, breaking from June's hold.

June stuffed her hands in her pockets and bit her lip. "I guess I should welcome you to my head."

"Your head is an abandoned version of Manhattan?" Lydia tilted her head in confusion.

"No, no, as far as I can tell, this is the place my magic fabricated for me."

"Your magic designed this for you?"

"Come on, I'll take you back to my old home."

June started walking what must have been a familiar block, and Lydia hustled to keep up with her. As she looked around, she noticed the streets and everything were seemingly an accurate layout, it was just empty of people and cars. It had an odd cleanliness that Lydia was sure she wouldn't find when she traveled to the real city.

"About my magic: yes and no. In a nutshell, I guess we both designed this place. When I meditate I take my mind back to New York and just people watch. It was always a great way to remove myself from my troubles. I guess my magic kind of fed on that, but removed myself entirely from like everything."

"Everything?"

"You don't see anyone else around here, do you?"

"So how did you end up here?"

"Theo fucked with my head. Or neck, I don't really know." June turned to face away from Lydia. She brought her braid around her left shoulder to reveal claw marks fresh in her neck. "Best guess, my magic created this as a failsafe so that I wouldn't implode."

"So now you're stuck here?"

She watched June bite her lip in sadness and fear. "Yes."

"June-"

"Which is why I have no clue how you got here. All my thoughts were focused on Ginny, to let her know I'm okay. I mean still somewhat present. Not comatose."

"But you're not."

"What do you mean?"

"June you're catatonic, not in a coma."

"Cata-?"

"-Tonic, yes." Lydia wasn't going to shelter her from her situation. June would later thank her for it. "We found you out next to the nemeton, your fingers bleeding."

June glanced down at her hands, and noticed the bandaging on two of her left fingers. She shook her head, "I don't remember being by the nemeton except with you and Jordan. I don't - I just remember Sheriff Stilinski, something - something was wrong-" She was getting choked up, and it pained Lydia to see her like that.

"Sheriff Stilinski was attacked by a chimera, he nearly died. When we found you - you - you'd inscribed a sheriff's badge on a rock with your fingernails. He was dying, and you knew it."

"But how? I mean, I'm not a banshee, how could I know that?"

Lydia licked her lips, staring at the ground in concentration, "Maybe - maybe it was while you were looking for Ginny. Like you accidentally slipped into Stilinski's mind as he was dying."

"Why?"

"He's Stiles' dad, I mean, it's not that far of a stretch."

June stayed silent as they turned a corner, still met with no one. Finally, about half a block up, she finally asked, "How is he?"

"Who, Stiles or the sheriff?"

"Both, I guess."

"Stilinski's alive. There was a piece of bone poisoning him, but Stiles figured it out. He saved the sheriff's life."

She smiled, "Yeah, he seems to do that a lot. How was he?"

"I mean I ran into him at the sheriff's station after - well after you left. Gave him some of my signature scathing stares and a few choice words, but he seemed to need to tell his dad something." Something in June's eyes made Lydia think she knew exactly what he had to tell him. June ignored it, so she figured she should as well. "He was already a wreck by the time we got to the hospital. I imagine seeing you wasn't doing him any favors-"

"How were Scott and the others?"

Lydia pursed her lips. "They're okay. I mean, after Liam tried to kill Scott and Hayden died, he kind of ran off. Scott is alive after having died. Theo's a fraud, which I guess you already knew. And you were moved to Eichen."

June stopped walking, "I what?"

"Ginny signed over transfer papers at the hospital to place you in Eichen's care. You left the hospital, Parrish and I couldn't stop it."

"Thanks for trying, I guess." June ran a hand over her forehead. "At this point I guess she must've removed herself. And she's done it mentally too, maybe that's why I can't get to her." The pair stopped walking per June's lead, and they found themselves at the front of a rather tall skyscraper. It hurt Lydia's neck to try and see the top.

The two walked inside to a lavish lobby with mailboxes on the right and an empty desk straight ahead. The first few floors were in plain view under a grand chandelier, and wound around each other in a classic design. The rest of the building was hidden behind the ceiling, and Lydia had the feeling they were soon to see what it looked like above it. June walked to the left, to a series of elevators opened and waiting.

The two climbed in the elevator and June pressed the top button labeled "PH4." Of course she lived in one. Lydia almost smiled to herself before remembering their situation.

"So I'm really not dreaming?"

"Nope, we are really talking. It's just in my head."

"So then you can talk to anyone else, right? Anyone in the pack, that's how it works?"

June nodded, "In theory."

"So why me, then?" She saw June look at her from the corner of her eye slightly exasperated. "Would you guess?"

"You're the last person I talked to while on any kind of good terms. Maybe the only person I wanted to talk to."

"But Malia-"

"Malia's been busy finding her mom, Lyds. She hasn't talked to anyone about it. And I mean anyone." The elevator ride seemed like an eternity.

"What about Stiles?"

Tears finally fell from June's eyes, more than Lydia expected. "Stiles is about as far removed from me as possible. I don't think I could reach him."

"But what if-"

"I don't think I want to try and talk to him, Lydia. At least not like this." The elevator dinged, and they both stepped out. The elevator opened, and immediately they were met with a lavish and expansive living room, coupled with a dining room, kitchen, and floor-to-ceiling windows in an open layout. It was something Lydia had seen from a magazine: The plush furniture, the updated appliances, the smooth color scheme, it all had a touch of wealth, but not enough to mask the homey vibe it also accomplished.

Staring out the window, Lydia for the first time seriously questioned why June would ever leave New York. The city stretched for as far as she could see, screaming everything she had hoped: promise, potential, possibility. And June saw that everyday for sixteen years. No wonder she was so smart. Lydia turned around at the sound of June gagging.

"What?"

"Ugh - you don't smell that?"

"Smell what?"

"It smells like fucking death, Lydia, how could you not-?"

"Where's it coming from?"

June pointed down a hallway that Lydia had not previously seen. "It's coming from the bathroom."

"Lydia for the love of god, wake up!" Lydia's eyes snapped open. She quickly sat up and tried to adjust to her surroundings. For starters, she wasn't in New York. She was in her room, where she never left. The next thing she realized was that her mother was standing in her doorway.

"Mom? What-"

"It's noon, if that's what you're wondering. I don't want you oversleeping, you'll exhaust yourself that way, too."

Lydia nodded, not really listening. She said what she needed to in order for her mother to leave her bedroom. Panting slightly, she ran a hand through her hair to get it out of her face. She had spoken to June. June was in Eichen, but she somehow talked to her. They were in some weird creation of an abandoned New York thanks to June's magic.

The first thought was if she should tell anyone about this. More importantly, should she tell Scott and Stiles. It was majorly relevant, maybe somehow from her mind, June could still help everyone.

The other side of that coin was that it only happened once. Maybe it was just another one of Lydia's dreams, but it didn't feel anything of the sort. It felt like June. She was somewhere, waiting for help. She couldn't do anything, someone was going to have to help her.

With that thought, Lydia swung her legs out of her bed and padded over to her desk. She plopped down and opened her laptop. Beginning her browsing, Lydia started searching through the many websites that popped up about meditation and the recesses of the mind.

*****

Stiles had taken up residence in the hospital chair that sat beside his father's bed. It had been four days since he had woken up, and he could only get Stiles to leave when his eyes began to water from the stench of the stale room after two boys occupied it without bathing. He ordered Stiles home to freshen up and bring a few things of his work with him.

He had showered, eaten, and packed a bag full of clothes to bring with him, his father's included for when he left the hospital. He had to stop his hands from shaking as his eyes skirted over the drawer in his dresser that had some of June's clothes occupying it. The last time she had been there and used it, Stiles guessed she hadn't closed it all the way. He had to swallow the lump in his throat as he ignored the daggers it seemed to stare in him as he packed his duffel.

His dad listened to everything that had happened while he was unconscious (Stiles elected to skip over the word dying, as it was still a sensitive subject), including how things ended up with June. Wounds, though not physical like his father's, were still fresh in Stiles, and the sheriff thought it best not to come up with any immediate opinions on the matter.

Day three into his recovery was when Stilinski cracked. Stiles made a comment in passing about how Ginny was refusing any visitors for June until she was settled into a routine at Eichen House, and Stilinski asked what Stiles was planning on doing about her.

"There's nothing I can do, Dad. She's locked away in Eichen, no one can get to her."

"Since when has a closed door ever stopped you?"

Day four remained fairly quiet. The most eventful part of the day was that the nurses introduced a cane to the sheriff and began helping him in the early stages of walking once more. He spent the better part of the early afternoon helping his dad become comfortable using a crutch. When four o'clock hit, Stilinski was back in his bed, knocked out from the exhausting first bout of exercise he had done in four days. Hearing the rhythmic sounds of his dad's breathing, Stiles found himself following his dad into sleep.

He dreamt of something he'd never seen except for in post-apocalyptic films: an abandoned city. New York City was empty, and eerily quiet. Stiles was whirling around, hoping to find some kind of sign that there was in fact life. Instead, all he found was June, staring at him angrily and almost with panic in her eyes.

"June?"

"You're not supposed to be here." His lips parted in shock when her hands reached out to shove him back by his shoulders. He could feel the harsh impact before he was thrust into darkness.

Stiles' eyes flickered open, and he found himself still in the hospital chair, only his neck was slightly stiffer. Upon first instinct, his head turned to face his dad's bed, only to find it surprisingly empty. Fearing the worst once again, he looked back at the open doorway. Standing up, Stiles considered all of his options when it came to his dad's whereabouts.

There were two things that the pair really hadn't talked about since Stilinski's return to the world of the not-dying: June and Stiles' friends, and the bodies of the dead chimeras that had been recovered from the nemeton. Since Stiles knew that the sheriff could not in fact reach Eichen House or anywhere outside of the hospital doors, there was only one place he could be. Stiles just hoped he brought a blanket, as he wasn't sure how well his pajamas would fare in a drafty morgue.

Just as he'd suspected, Stiles peered through the windows on the morgue doors and found his dad standing over a body covered by a sheet. He wouldn't even have to look at the dangling toe tag to know that it was the body of Donovan Donati. Knowing that this was it, this conversation was going to be held here and now, he stepped through the doors and over to the other side of the body. He waited for his dad to speak first.

"The story Theo told me about the library, that's how it happened. Except it didn't happen to him."

Stiles stared away from the body and up to his dad. Sighing, he knew there was no getting around his father's unspoken question of It happened to you, didn't it? "Yeah."

"Stiles, I can't protect you if I don't know the truth. Did you really feel like you couldn't tell me?"

"I couldn't tell anyone," Stiles admitted, both of their voices now lowered to a whisper.

"Did you - did you think that I wouldn't believe that it was self-defense?"

"What if it wasn't?" Stiles asked him, his fear spilling all the thoughts he had bottled up out of him. "What if I told you I wanted him dead?"

"I'd believe you," His father answered simply, Stiles was surprised there was no emotion but understanding on his face. "I also believe that wanting someone dead and murdering them are two very different things."

"Yeah, well what if a judge doesn't think so?"

"Then to hell with the judge. Stiles, it was self-defense, and I would destroy every shred of evidence to protect you if I had to. I would burn the whole sheriff's station to the ground." There was a brief moment of silence before Stilinski thought it best to not have this conversation over the body of the person they were talking about. Together, they both slid the cadaver back into its designated refrigerator compartment.

"What about upholding the law?" Stiles asked again. "What about Kira?"

"Kira was a mistake," The sheriff admitted, sighing deeply. "I guess I'm learning how to bend."

"So, what, it just goes away?"

Stilinski shook his head, deeply wishing his answer could be different than, "Not for you. The problem now is how to bear this burden. This kind of thing is not at all uncommon in law enforcement. A fatal mistake, a partner who dies, or one who gets paralyzed. Stiles, you carry that with you. Sometimes, it doesn't truly feel okay again until there's a kind of counterbalance."

"Like what?"

"Like instead of taking a life, you manage to save one. Something like that can help, but maybe only for a moment. But the real conflict you're having now is between your head and your heart. Your head - your head knows the only crime you committed was surviving. But your heart? Your heart still thinks it was murder. So I guess you - uh - you gotta get your heart to catch up to your head."

"I feel like it's more than guilt, though," Stiles admitted, licking his chapped lips and trying not to break down entirely. "You know, I feel like - I feel like I lost something. You know, and I feel like I can't get it back."

"You won't," There was no greater or more terrible time to tell his son the absolute truth. Stiles nodded in defeat while the sheriff continued. "Not entirely. But you get a little bit by forgiving yourself." He watched his son stare down and shake his head, lips pursed tightly together. "And since that's not always the easiest thing in the world to do, then maybe you start by forgiving someone else. Someone who probably really needs it."

"Someone like Scott?" Stiles asked, and in answer, the sheriff pulled Stiles in for a large hug. Together, they stood there in the morgue, holding each other with the hope that things in that moment could get a little bit better.

Several hours later, with his dad tucked safely away and in bed, Stiles went to the vending machine to get a snack. Had the hospital not been so quiet, he wouldn't have heard the wheeling of the gurney directly behind him. Turning around, he noticed the sealed up body bag that several nurses were carrying down to the morgue.

Another death might have normally meant nothing in this town, but Stiles was slightly weary when someone was wheeled in on a body bag. Returning to his father's room and hardly noticing he was awake once more, Stiles pulled out Stilinski's laptop to see if there had been any updates on what had recently happened while he had been in the hospital.

"Is that my laptop?" Stiles hardly noticed when his father asked.

"Yep."

"Do you have my password?"

"I have all your passwords. You know they just brought in a body from last night?"

"Yeah, I was hoping you wouldn't find out. Now give me my damn computer," Stilinski reached over to take back his computer, but Stiles turned his back away from him so he couldn't grab it.

"Hang on, hang on. I think there's some footage missing, or something missing in the footage."

"I think there's something missing in your head," Stilinski cracked as he reached for his computer again.

"You need your rest," Stiles insisted and stared at the tape of Clark entering the building where a massive creature had emerged from. Watching again and again, he found the piece of evidence he was looking for. A piece of footage that he knew Scott would have to see.

*****

Scott was running out of options. After Malia told him to leave and that she couldn't help him with what he needed, he was struggling to find help in his friends where he could. Lydia was on and off here or there, she was spending a lot of time at June's house oddly enough. Liam hadn't reached out to him at all, nor did he expect him to. Stiles - well, Stiles was busy with his dad.

He was cleaning the wound that had yet to begin healing on his chest, which had now secreted a mixture of blood and the familiar black substance that was produced when his body took too long to heal. He threw another tissue into the sink as he watched it do little to nothing. From the corner of his eye, Scott noticed Stiles walk into his bedroom. His eyebrows lifted in surprise, but welcoming regardless.

"Hey," Stiles acknowledged, while Scott finished bandaging up his wound. "Still not healing?"

"Sometimes it just takes a little longer," Scott assured him. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh - you heard about the guy who got killed out at the communication towers, right?" Scott nodded, pulling on a sweatshirt and recalling the night Parrish asked him to investigate the bloody crime scene himself. Stiles continued, pulling out his cellphone. "Okay, well I may have figured something out."

"What, you want my help?" Scott asked, slightly surprised by the whole interaction.

Stiles sighed, the feeling of being uncomfortable beginning to root itself in his mindset. Trying to brush it off and remember his dad's advice, he shrugged, "Yeah, well, you said you can find the clues I can't. Here, take a look." He turned around so Scott could watch the video he was about to show him.

Narrating the video in real time, Stiles pointed out a few key elements. "This was when the technician first arrived. You see him going in? Then Deputy Clark goes in, then something really big and really fast comes charging out. There's Clark, and eventually, the technician's body is carried out by paramedics." He pocketed his phone as Scott grew confused.

"Okay, what am I missing?"

"Two people go in, three come out. I checked all the footage, not a single person enters that building before the technician the entire day. So, where does that something really big and really fast come from?"

Scott caught on, eyes lighting in revelation, "There's another way in."

That was how in the next half hour, the boys found themselves in the midst of yet another gruesome crime scene. The only sound to background their investigation was the sound of water dripping far off somewhere. Equipped with only two types of flashlight, they started searching around.

At long last, they reached the end of a hallway where the technician's body was found. Blood and water still puddled around a large circut that lay upon the ground, claw marks tearing through the metal. Stiles' waved the flashlight around it before spotting something just behind it.

"Do you see that?" He asked Scott.

"I see blood," Scott admitted, slightly creeped out.

"Look where it leads to," Stiles said, nodding his head to the direction of a partially buried grate. Scott was quick to move, squatting down and placing his fingers under the large piece of metal. His efforts to lift proved futile, and after straining his body, he seemed to feel all of his energy drain out of the still very open wound on his chest. Trying again, he felt it lift with more ease, and opened his eyes to see Stiles on the other side, both working together. After they got it out of the way, they could more clearly see the ripped open grate that lead down somewhere they had both no interest in going back to.

Several minutes of walking later, they still didn't seem to find much. Stiles lead the way with the flashlight, and Scott followed closely behind. Reaching yet another crossroads, Stiles figured now would be the time to take out his other flashlight, the one equipped with UV rays. Shining it on the ground, they found a trail of mercury leading to their left.

It lead to another tunnel, and at the very base of it read a series of words spelled out: Damnatio Memoriae.

"What is that?"

"It looks like Latin."

Scott grabbed at his phone, "Hold up that light, I'm gonna see if I can get a picture of it." While focusing on his camera, he noticed the black light wiggle around quite a bit before disappearing from the words completely. "Stiles, hold the light still." He only took his eyes off the camera when he heard Stiles groan in pain. His eyes found Stiles clutching the back of his neck, and when Scott looked around for the culprit, his eyes widened in shock. There behind Stiles stood Tracy Stewart, looking very much alive, and very angry.

She swiped at him, backing him off to the next fork in the road. Busy trying not to get paralyzed, Scott didn't notice the other chimera, Josh, rushing towards him with electricity at his fingertips. However, from his vantage point on the ground, Stiles noticed.

"Scott, behind you!"

Seeing Josh, Scott ducked under a hand that was raised to strike at him, and with the momentum Josh was using, he came around next to Tracy and in front of Scott. Tracy was first to strike, but Scott quickly grabbed her outstretched hand and shoved it into Josh's abdomen. There were multiple yells of pain, Josh quickly losing feeling of his limbs, and Tracy screaming as she was thrown back from the electric shock. Josh landed next to Stiles.

"Sucks, doesn't it?" The two of them watched as Scott bared his fangs and flashed his eyes at seemingly just a series of pipes that ran along the wall. After a split second, Corey appeared, seemingly from out of nowhere, when in fact he was miraculously camouflaged along the wall. His wide yes and heaving chest demonstrated that he in no way was willing to actually go toe-to-toe with the alpha he currently faced.

"Okay," A familiar voice called from the shadows. Everyone turned to face Theo as he appeared from another tunnel. He walked slowly, an antagonizing smirk on his face. "Maybe they're not ready to take on an alpha." Tracy shrugged her jacket back on and stood up next to Corey. Theo turned to him in disapproval, "Especially one that can smell fear."

"He's got fangs," Corey argued. Theo ignored him and gestured to Josh. Tracy moved to pick him up from off the ground. The four of them seemed to ignore Scott and Stiles' looks of shock.

"What did you do?" Scott asked, staring at the teenagers he had failed to save previously, now freshly alive.

"I found some new friends. I don't take rejection well." Theo stepped down from the platform the rounded tunnel gave him and stared down at the other paralyzed boy on the ground.

Stiles nodded, about all he could do, "Hey, Theo."

"Stiles," Theo addressed, before looking over at the ground illuminated by the black light. He smirked as he read the latin on the floor before stomping down on the message, erasing it entirely. He then stepped forward to Scott.

"You're gonna leave here thinking that you need to worry about me. But you're wrong. We're actually back on the same side. Because that thing-" He glanced up, gesturing towards the gruesome crime scene above them, "- that's what we need to worry about. Your pack and mine. We're gonna go back to school and pretend like we're normal teenagers, but at night, we're gonna be fighting for our lives."

"What is it?" Stiles asked.

"It's not a chimera."

"But it's just a kid underneath, someone like us."

"Not anymore." Both Scott and Stiles watched as Theo and his resurrected pack all left the tunnels. Scott waited until he couldn't hear their heartbeats or their footsteps before going back and tending to Stiles. He sat him up to get the blood flowing again in his limbs. Tracy had apparently been rather merciful, as the cut on the back of Stiles' neck wasn't very deep. He already started gaining feeling in his hands and lower arms.

Scott stared down at the cracked ground. "He knew what it meant, and I can't remember the words."

"Damnatio Memoriae," Stiles answered for him. "It means the condemnation of memory. It also means that whatever the Dread Doctors created, whatever this last chimera really is, it's not something new. It's something old. Really old."

"So they didn't create a new creature," Scott assumed, and Stiles nodded.

"They resurrected one." Stiles sighed, terrified as to what could have been so terrible that it inspired the likes of the Dread Doctors to bring it back to modern society. Scott looked down in the rubble mixed with dirt. Slowly, he drew a circle in it, knowing what he had to do next.

"We need help. If Theo's got his own pack now, then we need ours. We have to get the others back."

"The others?" Stiles seemed like he had to let Scott down easy. "You mean Kira, who's currently battling a homicidal fox spirit inside of her, Malia who isn't even speaking to either one of us, June who's stuck in Eichen House, and Liam who almost killed you?"

"Also known as our best friends," Scott reminded him.

Stiles scoffed and nodded, knowing he was right, but still was a little short-sighted on how to get them back. "Okay, how?"

"One by one. I mean we can start with Lydia, she seems like she's the least mad at us right now."

"I don't know, when I saw her in the sheriff's station she was pretty hostile," Stiles recalled how she practically killed him with a single glare. He also knew he deserved it.

"We have to start somewhere," Scott glanced back down to the circle, and Stiles followed suit. He rolled his eyes and looked back up at his friend.

"You're not seriously gonna make me do it?"

"You're part of the pack, right?"

"Okay." Stiles, with great effort, extended his hand and drew a larger circle outside of the circle Scott had already drawn. When finished, he looked back up at Scott and shrugged as best as he could. Scott smiled softly, happy that they were on the right track. He picked Stiles up and slung an arm over his shoulder, supporting him as his legs began to move.

Walking down the tunnel, Stiles added as an afterthought, "I still hate that tattoo."

"I know." They approached a ladder, and with slight difficulty, Scott managed to get the partially immobile Stiles up and above ground. Walking out of the communication tower they had entered, Scott devised a plan. "We need to find Kira."

"We can ask her dad, I heard he was back in town."

"Okay, let's ask and then we can head out to wherever she went. Can we still use your dad's car?"

Stiles shook his head, "No, he's being checked out in the morning. He'll be taking a day or two off and we can't wait that long."

"I'm not sure I'll be able to take my bike, and my mom needs the car."

Suddenly, Stiles recalled the card that was sitting on his kitchen table. He shook his head, "I'll worry about the transportation, just go talk to Mr. Yukimura."

Scott nodded, "I'll talk to Lydia, too, see if she wants to help."

Having regained feeling by the time they arrived at Scott's house, Stiles drove himself home. He parked the car and trudged inside, setting his keys down on the kitchen table. Warily, he eyed the card, unsure what the call would mean. He knew June took care of the tow truck, now all that was left was to somehow pick up his jeep and fix it to the point of taking it on a road trip. Shaking his head, he slipped the card into his hand and headed up to his room.

He sat down on his bed, and dialed the number. He thanked his lucky stars that he was calling in the span of the office hours written on the card.

"Steve Taylor's shop, this is Jeff, how can I help you?"

"Hi, I was inquiring about a vehicle that was towed in last week? It's a 1980 CJ5 jeep? It's a real piece of crap, I know-"

"Not anymore."

Stiles scrunched his eyebrows together, "What do you mean?"

Jeff laughed lightly on the other side, "I guess you're not really caught up, then. Steve Taylor himself has been working non stop on that thing. Just added in the new windshield today. It's practically a brand new car."

"How?"

"No more duct tape for starters, essentially we had to replace the entire engine, cleaned up the frame a bit, I mean, Steve's basically assembled a new car in this thing-"

"I didn't ask anyone to do that," Stiles began to panic, thinking about he was unable to afford that kind of work done on his jeep. He could hardly afford the gum in his pocket.

"Well someone did. We have the car registered to a Mie - Miec - how in the hell-?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Look just call me Stiles if that helps, okay?"

A sigh of relief before he heard Jeff speak again. "So this jeep is registered to a Stiles Stilinski, then?"

"Yes, that's me, and I didn't - I mean - I can't pay for that to be fixed. I don't have the money for a brand new car."

Stiles heard rustling of papers on the other end of the phone. "It looks like you don't have to."

"What the hell do you mean?"

"Look, all it says here on the billing statement was that it was paid for."

"By who?"

"Um - it looks like it was a Visa belonging to a June Child." Stiles froze, hardly listening to Jeff after that. "It was paid for in full while getting it towed. Frank brought it in after calling the shop and asking to pay in full. I don't really know what made Steve take the job, but I mean we sure do owe Frank a lot, it's done a lot for the business."

Stiles recalled how long it seemed to take June to talk to the towing guy. He had no idea it was because of this. "You're sure June Child payed for all of this?"

"Yep. There's a big ole 'Paid in full' on top of the bill. And - oh hang on, so you are the owner of the car, right?"

"Yes."

"There's a note for you. I guess she left it when she paid for it over the phone."

Stiles sat infinitely straighter, "What does it say?"

"It says: Here's to things going right. Love, June. Real sweet and all. Look, the jeep should be done tonight, did you want to come pick it up in the morning?"

Stiles was stuck in his own thoughts, hands shaking. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be in in the morning." He quickly hung up the phone and threw it on the bed.

It was like he was taken back to the hospital, to the last time he had seen June. It had been horrible for Stiles, partially because he was faced with the girl he loved in such a dire state, but also because it was the only time he actually couldn't ignore her. Couldn't ignore what he had done to her.

He couldn't keep ignoring it any longer. There was no justification for what he did, he just wasn't thinking rationally in his state of mind when he pushed her away. She wanted to fix his jeep, his dysfunctional jeep that was falling apart, much like their friends. And he pushed her away, June, this kind and loving soul, someone who would love him no matter what he had done, no matter what Scott did in regards to their friendship. She was there through thick and thin, until she wasn't.

Here's to things going right.

For the first time, Stiles let himself feel the earth-shattering pain of losing someone like June. He sank down into his bed and didn't bother wiping the tears that were streaming down his face as sobs filled the room. His head turned over to his nightstand, and his eyes found the picture of June. Why was it in such terrible times, in such horrific circumstances, did he suddenly decide that she was it? She was Stiles' all or nothing, and she wasn't his anymore.

"You're not a Padme, okay? You're a Princess Leia guy, through and through."

"Stiles, you need to know that I don't want to leave you. I love you, and I want to be by your side."

"I kind of forget about a lot of things when I'm kissing you, Stiles."

"You are just - you're too much. You're unbelievably good to me. I honestly have no idea what I did to deserve you, Stiles Stilinski."

"Believe me, I ask myself the same question about you," Stiles whispered shakily. Getting up from his bed, he walked over to his closet and pulled out a box that sat in the back. Opening up the box of his mother's things, he began sifting through the various mementos, tears still falling down his face. Finally, his fingers wrapped around the small box he had been looking for. Pulling it out and opening it, his fingers touched the delicate diamond perched atop the platinum band.

"It's yours," Stiles spoke quietly, picturing it sitting on June's left finger. Some day, when all the madness was over and done with, he knew it would be a reality. He was willing to wait.

Stiles wiped his eyes, ready for tomorrow. His dad was leaving the hospital, and his jeep would be his again, ready to drive. It was time to get everyone back, and everyone better be ready to save June, as Stiles was. He didn't know it yet, but the thought of saving June from a terrible fate was enough for Stiles to slowly piece together a little slice of forgiveness for himself.

Y'all that last bit kind of made me tear up a little bit. To @mystichills_void and @Xhoeser I just want to say thank you, and I love you lots. @void_christine I love you little bug. Extra long for you guys because it took me extra long to write it lol. Love you all. Thanks for continually supporting this journey with votes and comments. It means everything. If you have questions regarding June's situation, message me! Unedited. Xx.