It hurt to put Isaac and Riley through that again

I'm thinking of writing maybe just the last few episodes of Season 6B instead of not writing it altogether, but I'm undecided.

I'm still going to write an epilogue, either way, just trying to make decisions about 6B haha

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"Did Isaac say anything to you?" I asked Scott as we sat in the school library.

The whole Pack had gone home after the next clue had been found. After everything that had happened with Isaac, I had asked Lydia to drop me home, which she was more than happy to do.

I got home planning to take a shower and got straight to bed. I did that, except as soon as I got into bed, I was unable to sleep. All I could think about was what Lydia had written.

'Stiles'

What did it mean?

Climbing out of my bed I had gone to my desk and written the work down, pinning it to the corkboard on my wall. I then went about going through the strange photos I had found on my phone, printing out all the ones that looked like someone was missing from them and pinning them up too.

There had been so many, that I had to start pinning them to my actual wall. Charlotte probably wouldn't be too happy, but that was something I could explain to her later.

Once they had all been pinned up, I had taken a seat on my bed and stared at them. I sat like that all night, just hoping that it would shake a memory loose, but still nothing.

"No, sorry," Scott told me with a frown. "He went to his room as soon as we got back. Hasn't left since."

"He didn't even come to school today?"

Scott shook his head as he typed on his laptop. We had met in the library in hopes of finding more of a lead on what or who 'Stiles' could be.

I dragged my hands down my face, groaning heavily, "I am the worst person alive."

Scott put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. "It's not your fault, you didn't choose to forget whoever this is. Isaac will understand that."

"I know he will," I sighed. "But on some level, that feels worse. I don't want to hurt him, Scott."

He reached further, putting his arm around me, "Listen to me. This isn't your fault. It's the Wild Hunt. Stop being so hard on yourself."

I wanted to believe him, but after the way Isaac had looked at me, it was difficult. Choosing to move away from the topic, I shifted to look at the computer screen. "Did you find anything?"

Scott immediately knew what I was doing, and was gracious enough to go along with it. "'Stile, an arrangement of steps that allows people, but not animals, to climb over a fence.'"

"Something tells me that that's not what we're looking for."

"Maybe Malia's found something. Or Lydia."

I shook my head, "Malia is in a make-up test and Lydia is submitting a project. We're on our own."

As Scott began to type on the laptop in hopes of finding a different result, a howl echoed through the school halls. The two of us looked at each other, immediately knowing it was Malia.

Getting up from the table, Scott shoved the laptop into his bag and then we were both moving. I followed behind Scott who led the way with his keen sense of smell.

If she was howling, that meant she had shifted again. Even though I was sure we would've found her eventually, it needed to be as soon as possible given that it was the middle of a school day.

Rushing through the halls, we ended up back in the room where Lydia and I had found Malia just the previous night. Ms Martin and the Sheriff had caught up with us on the search, following us into the room.

Malia was in coyote form, hidden away in the corner. She growled defensively as we grew closer, fangs bared and eyes glowing blue.

I stepped past Scott and closer to my sister, holding my hands up to show I wasn't going to hurt her.
"Mal, it's okay. You're safe. No one will hurt you, I promise."

"I think she's calming down," Scott claimed, although as she growled at me, I found that hard to believe.

"Maybe you should growl back?" The sheriff suggested to the Alpha. "Riley, step back."

Reluctantly, I did as I was told. Malia's growling had grown worse, and this had to be about her, not my personal feelings. Scott looked at the sheriff, unsure of himself.

The sheriff looked at the boy, "Scott, you're the Alpha. Can't you just make her a little more docile?"

Scott and I looked to Malia, whose growling was becoming more prominent. I felt empathy for the girl. With everything that was happening she was struggling to control her change. I hadn't seen her at a loss for control in such a long time, and until we figured out who was missing, I wasn't sure how to help her.

But then, something occurred to me. Maybe she didn't need our help right now. Malia came here when she felt scared - it was like her own coyote den. It reminded me of the time we had been looking for her before we'd met her, and figured that she wasn't going to come back since we'd been there.
"We're trespassing," I mumbled to myself.

"What was that, Riley?" The sheriff asked.

"Malia isn't the problem right now," I told him, before looking to Scott. "We are. We're trespassing on her territory. So, maybe the better option is to just leave."

When Malia began to growl louder, Scott nodded in agreement. "Yeah, come on, come on."
He ushered us all away from Malia, leading us to the other side of the shelf.

As we waited for Malia to calm down, I noticed the sheriff and Lydia's mum looking at me with confused looks.
"This is where she came to get through the full moons before we started using the lake house," I explained.

"Lydia told me a wild animal got in the lake house," Mrs Martin told me.

My mouth fell open for a moment as I stumbled to cover up my mistake. "Uh, I mean, it could be worse. Right?" I said weakly.

When Malia's growling finally died down, I glanced around the shelf to see the girl walking out from the corner buck nude. "It's all right. I'm okay."

Scott and the sheriff looked away awkwardly while Mrs Martin brought forward the clothes that the were coyote had left behind in her office. Malia accepted the handful of clothes, getting dressed right on the spot.

As she did so, the sheriff spoke quietly to Scott and me. "Any idea what made her shift?"

"She's under a lot of pressure," Scott answered. "School, her life after graduation."

"Our dad being a psychopath," I tacked on. "Her mum trying to kill her."

"That shouldn't make her shift," Scott pointed out as he turned to me. "Could it be connected to Stiles?"

"That's what I was thinking," I nodded. "But we're not going to know until we figure out what 'Stiles' is."

"It's a 'he'," the Sheriff said from across from us. Scott and I both turned to him, surprised, to say the least.

"Sorry, what?"

"Stiles," The Sheriff confirmed. "It's a family nickname. I never used it but, uh, my father did."

♧♤♢♡

When the Sheriff had offered to show us who Stiles was, we found Lydia and headed straight over to his house.

So now the three of us were sitting with the Sheriff and his wife, Claudia, in their lounge room. Part of me felt nervous knowing that we were finally going to get the answer to our question.

But what if it wasn't what we were expecting? And what if it had nothing to do with the person who was missing? Either way, we were about to find out.

Claudia had returned from retrieving a metal box from somewhere in their house, handing it to the Sheriff. He thanked his wife as he opened the box, sighing as he began to explain who Stiles was.
"He was an Army engineer. Ended the war one bridge at a time."

Scott accepted the photograph from the Sheriff, looking down at it. I leaned over his shoulder so that I could see it also.

The Sheriff's father was young in the photo - somewhere in his twenties for sure. The photograph had the word 'Stiles' written down at the bottom.

"And he went by 'Stiles'," Scott said, reading the name on the photo also.

The Sheriff nodded, shrugging somewhat. "So, what's this got to do with the Wild Hunt?"

Scott, Lydia and I all shared a quick glance, making sure that we all agreed that it was important to tell the Sheriff. Sitting up a bit straighter, I began to explain. "We think that somebody was taken from us."

"Any idea who?"

Scott shook his head, "Uh, the Ghost Riders would have erased our memories."

"Well, now, that's convenient," the Sheriff sighed.

"Yeah, no kidding," I mumbled.

Lydia spoke from beside me, "We found a clue. The word 'Stiles.'"

Claudia bobbed her head slowly, seeming to not be entirely convinced. "And that's why you wanna talk to Elias?"

"Yeah, maybe he can help us figure it out," Scott told the couple. "Maybe he knows who we're lookin' for."

The Sheriff looked across the three of us, still looking confused. I wasn't sure whether he believed us or not, but he hadn't kicked us out of his house yet, so that was a start.
"Now this is someone your age?" The Sheriff asked.

"Yeah. I think. . . I think he was me and Scott's friend," I was quick to confirm.

"Our best friend," Scott nodded.

The Sheriff stood up with a sigh, reaching to take the photograph back from Scott. "I can guarantee you, my father can't help you."

"Couldn't we try?" the Alpha inquired.

"Scott, he lives in a nursing home threes towns over. Hasn't had a visitor in years."

I pursed my lips in frustration as my eyes fell. This was our one lead and if we gave up then we were back to square one.

"Can I use your bathroom?" Lydia asked suddenly. I glanced at her, seeing that some of the colour had drained from her face.

Something was up. Something that I probably couldn't ask her about in front of the Stilinskis.

"Sure," Claudia nodded.

Lydia stood up quickly, heading down the hallway in the direction of the bathroom.

I stood up so that I could stand in front of the Sheriff, hoping he would take me more serious. "Sheriff, please. I think this person was more to me than just my best friend. And right now, the only lead we have is your father."

"Riley, I'm sorry, but no," the Sheriff said, resting the box on the bench. "My father doesn't have visitors."

"Lydia? Did you find it? The last door on the left," Claudia called from her spot on the couch.

"Sheriff, please," Scott said as he got up from the couch to stand beside me. "We just-"

"You're not hearing me," the Sheriff interrupted. "Trust me, you don't wanna talk to him."

"We just need a few minutes."

"Scott, my father can't help you."

"Just a few questions. Five minutes," Scott insisted.

The Sheriff's voice rose as his shoulders stiffened, "You know what? You don't just 'talk' to this guy. Okay? Just. . . find another way."

"But what if this is the only way?" I asked.

"Scott, Riley, you have your answer," Claudia said calmly.

"Please, Sheriff," I pleaded, not caring if I sounded desperate.

Lydia was back from the bathroom at this point and had come to stand by me. She could obviously see how agitated I was becoming, and took ahold of my hand, squeezing it in attempts to remind me to stay calm.

Claudia got up from the couch, approaching me steadily. "Riley," she said firmly.

The Sheriff let out a breath as he lowered his voice, looking at me with arms crossed. "The answer's no."

I felt my jaw clench, before slipping my hand free of Lydia's and leaving the house. I heard the Sheriff sigh, not enjoying being the bad guy. I didn't stop until I was standing out beside Lydia's car, dragging my hand through my hair roughly.

Scott and Lydia approached me, both of them disappointed by the conversation also.
"We're still going, right?" I asked them both.

I respected the Sheriff, but Stiles wasn't our only lead and I wasn't about to let it slip through my fingers.

Scott nodded, heading to his bike, "I'll go and get Malia and we'll meet you at the retirement home."

Lydia and I both agreed, before getting into her car. As she started the engine, I felt her look my way. "Are you okay?" She asked softly.

"Not really," I told her honestly. "I don't remember who this is, but I know he was important to me. And Isaac realised that, too."

"Is that why he wasn't at school today?" The strawberry blonde inquired.

I nodded as I looked out the window, "I just. . . I feel like I keep hurting him."

"This isn't your fault," she told me as she drove. "You had no control over losing your memory of this person."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," I mumbled to myself.

♧♤♢♡

We arrived at Good Waer Assisted Living later that afternoon, all of us feeling a fresh determination. Part of me was also nervous that this was going to be a dead end, but I needed to stay positive.

"I can't believe we're about to break into a nursing home," Scott thought aloud as we approached the building.

I scoffed as I looked over at him, "Scott, this is literally one of the least crazy things we've done."

"And after the orderlies at Eichen House, I'm pretty sure we can handle some nurses," Malia pointed out.

Malia took the lead, walking straight in to the building. Lydia, Scott and I all shared a look, no entirely sure what was about to happen.

The were coyote approached the administration desk, grabbing the nurse by the collar and slamming his face into the desk. She then proceeded to drag him into a side room and lock him in.

"Malia," I said in a low tone.

"What?" She shrugged, beginning to walk down the halls of the retirement home.

The three of us just stared after her for a moment, before following her. There definitely could've been easier ways to get past the front desk, but I guess that didn't matter now.

We checked a few rooms, speaking to several older men. So far, we had no luck in finding the man. Our next stop was the day room. There was a man sitting there on his own, listening to an old record.

As he heard us walk in, he turned to face us. "Yes? Is it time for my medicine?"

"We don't have your medicine," Malia informed the man.

He looked away, disappointed, presumably listening to the music again.
"Are you Elias Stilinski?" I asked the man.

"I am," the man said after a moment, looking confused.

"My name is Riley Winters. Do you know who I am?" I inquired, hoping if he recognised my name he would be able to give us some insight. Although, that also was under the presumption that whoever we were missing had spoken to him about me.

"Should I?"

My smile fell in disappointment as I turned to Scott for help.
"Hey, Mr Stilinski," The Alpha greeted. "We're looking for somebody who might be named Stiles. You went by that name in the Army, right?"

"Yes," the man confirmed with half a nod, his voice quiet. "Best years of my life."

"Do you know any of us?" Malia asked, trying to cut to the chase.

"Of course I do," the man said, seemingly confused by the question.

My frown began to straighten out as I took a small step towards the man. "Wait, really?"

He nodded, eyes turning up to Scott. "How could I forget my own son?"

Scott's brows creased as he looked down at the man, "Your son?"

The Alpha glanced to Lydia, who tried to assess the situation. "Mr Stilinski. What year is it?"

"1976," the man answered immediately. "It's my son's birthday next week."

My heart sunk again. Elias Stilinski wasn't just in a retirement home because of his age. "He has dementia," I concluded.

"Is it time for my medicine?" The man asked again.

The four of us stepped off to the side to talk separately. None of us felt as optimistic as when we had first located Elias.

"Whar are we going to do?" I questioned in a hushed whisper.

Scott thought for a moment, before leaning forward to ensure that the man didn't hear us. "Maybe we just need to explain who we are. It might jog a memory or something?"

Lydia shrugged, "It depends on how developed his dementia is, but it's worth a shot."

♧♤♢♡

"Scott McCall?" Elias repeated as he looked at the Alpha. "No, no, no, no, no, no. You're my son."

We had spend the last couple of hours explaining to the men who we actually were. He didn't look any clearer or comfortable having us here, and it was clear that he didn't believe us, the dementia not helping anything.

"Keep it down, old guy. You'll wake the rest of the old people," Malia whispered harshly reaching down to his food tray and taking some peas.

"I don't like her," the man said softly to the rest of us.

Lydia took a seat in front of the man, gettingus back on track. "Your son. He's the Sheriff of Beacon Hills."

"Sheriff?" the man clarified. "No, no, no, no, no. No, no, I was in the Army," he stuttered.

"Use your claws, Scott," Malia suggested, all of us noticing how agitated the man was becoming.

I put a hand in front of Scott to make sure he didn't step towards the man. "No. You can't use them on him. Especially with his dementia; you don't know what effect that will have on him. It could kill him."

"I get that, but we're running out of time."

"I can't," Scott agreed.

Malia grumbled, flicking her wrist to bring her claws out. She began to walk up to Mr Stilinksi, but Scott grabbed her wrist and forced her to stop.

"No. We're not hurting him."

Elias nodded towards Malia's hand, "Young lady, you need to clip those nails."

"Look, Mr Stilinski, your son is the Sheriff now, and-"

"No, he's not," he insisted. "You shouldn't be here. If you don't leave, I'll have to report you."

As his breathing grew strained, Scott looked over to Lydia, asking her what was wrong with him. Lydia thought for a moment, before frowning, "The sun went down."

"We're going to need more than that, Lyds," I told the girl.

"He's sundowning," she clarified as the man began to ramble to himself. "It's when dementia patients lose their facultires after the sun goes down."

Elias' breathing kept getting heavier as he shook his head, looking at all of us. "I don't want to talk to you anymore!" he shouted.

"So what do we do?" Malia asked from off to the side.

"We wait till the sun comes back up," Lydia replied simply.

I shook my head, "No, we're here now. We can't wait that long, we need to know who we're missing."

"No. No, no!" Elias yelled.

"There's gotta be something we could do to keep him quiet," the Alpha suggested.

"Leave, leave, leave, leave."

"I can calm him down," Malia offered, walking over.

Lydia quickly told her no, before rifling through the papers on the table and spreading them out so that the man could see them all. "Elias. Look at the equations. Look. It's binomial probability. What's 'p'?"

Elias calmed down enough to read his equations, answering Lydia. "Um, probability of success?"

"Right," Lydia said, quick to go along with it while she had the man's attention. "And that means N minus K is?"

"Uh, the number of trials minus the number of successes."

"What's with the maths?" Malia asked, eating more of the peas off of the food tray.

"It helps dementia patients concentrate," Lydia explained. "And this one?"

The man picked up the sheet of paper to read the equation. "Uh, conditional probability."

"Let's find the moment of inertia."
When the man stood up, but didn't answer, Lydia looked up at him, "Elias?"

"That's Mr Stilinski," the man said firmly, an angry look on his face. "Just who the hell do you think you are?"