I used to have mixed feelings about this episode, but it's probably one of my favourites now. I absolutely love the Scott/Stiles scene at the end. Also, this chapter is a bit longer than the previous ones, but I think it's worth it. Hope you like it.

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After sending a text to Charlotte to let her know what was going on, I walked into Stiles and Scott's room. They were both laying on a bed each, staring up at the ceiling.

"Are we not knocking anymore?" Stiles asked, sitting up quickly.

"When did we start?" I countered. Walking past Stiles, I stood in front of Scott, "How're you doing? Is it healed yet?"

He lifted his shirt to show that the cuts were almost completely gone, a small smile on his face. "You don't have to worry about me, Riley. I'll be fine."

"So says the boy who was dying a few hours ago."
I took a seat at the table in their room, "Anyway, the Darach. What are we doing about that?"

"I have four suspects," Stiles stated.

Scott looked at him in disbelief, "You have four suspects?"

"Yeah," Stiles confirmed. "It was originally ten. Well, nine technically, I guess. I had Derek on there twice."

"Of course you did," I laughed. "So, who's the four?"

"Is Harris number one?" Scott asked.

Stiles' face became fairly serious, "Just because he's missing doesn't mean he's dead."

"So if he's not dead, our chemistry teacher is out secretly committing human sacrifices."

Stiles thought for a moment about what Scott was saying, turning to look at him. "Yeah, I guess that just sounded way better in my head."

"Okay, well what's another option then?" I asked, steering away from Harris. I mean, was he an ass? Yes. But a murderer?

"I mean, could it be somebody else from school?" Scott suggested. "Like, you remember Matt? We didn't know that he was killing people."

This made Stiles sit up straight, his eyes widening. "Excuse me? I'm sorry, what?" Stiles climbed up off of his bed, staring down at our friend.
"I- yes, we did. I called that from day one, actually."

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

"I was serious," Stiles gasped. "I was quite serious, actually. Deadly serious, no one listened to me. Back me up, Riley."

I played with my hair as I watched the interaction, "I'm not picking sides. But Stiles did say it was Matt."

"How is that not picking sides?" Scott asked me.

I just shrugged, "I'll pick you next time, if you like."

Scott rolled his eyes before turning back to Stiles, "Who were the other three?"

"Derek's sister, Cora," he sighed, moving past the fact that Scott hadn't believed him when he said it was Matt. "No one knows anything about her. And she's Derek's sister. Next, your boss."

"My boss?"

"Yeah, your boss. I don't really like the whole Obi-Wan thing he's got going on, you know. It freaks me out."

Scott just stared at him, clearly not understanding the reference.
"Come on, Scott, even I've seen Star Wars," I laughed.

"I can't believe you still haven't seen it," Stiles said to him, his face conveying his disappointment.

Scott immediately began to defend himself, laughing as he did so. "I swear, if we make it back alive, I will watch the movie."

"Just makes me crazy," Stiles mumbled.

"Who was the last one?"

The boy's expression immediately dropped and he lost eye contact with both of us. "Lydia." Taking a seat on the bed, Stiles ran his hands through his hair, "She was totally controlled by Peter, and she had no idea, so. . ."

"It's not Lydia," I said straight away. "It's not. I know it's not."

Scott pursed his lips as he looked at me, "But we don't know that, Ri."

"Okay, well, I think this is a conversation for another time. I'm going back to my room."

Neither of them really said anything as I left, still thinking things over I guess. I understood where they were coming from in terms of reasoning, but there was just no way it was Lydia killing people. It couldn't be.

My phone began ringing as I was walking, vibrating in my pocket. Grabbing it out, I saw Charlotte's name written across the screen. Knowing better than to ignore her call, I pressed accept.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked, trying not to sound like I had just been discussing the possibility that one of my best friends was a serial killer.

"What's this about the meet being pushed back? Where are you?" She didn't sound crazy worried, just protective.

I stopped walking and leaned against a wall, focusing on the conversation at hand. "Yeah, I don't know, it just got pushed back a day. Coach didn't really go into detail. Might've been because we had to stop for a while after one of the kids threw up on the bus."

I heard her make a disgusted sound at the mention of Jared vomiting before she regained her composure. "Okay. But where are you guys? Where are you staying?"

"Just some random motel called the Glen Capri. Nothing special, just as gross as any other motel. The school's paying at least."

"Well, that's good," she sighed. "Just don't do anything stupid, alright? I know what teenagers are like when their guardians aren't around and I don't need you getting pregnant."

"Oh, my god, Lottie, you did not just say that!" I gasped.

"Oh, please," she scoffed. "You've got Stiles, who has basically been pining over you since day one - still don't know how you took so long to see that - and then that Isaac kid."

"Okay, you know what? Stiles and I aren't really together at the moment, and even if we were, I'm not going to get pregnant," I spat out. "And Isaac? He's my ex. There's literally nothing to worry about there."

"If how he was looking at you when he was at the house last time says anything, then you've got that wrong."
She quickly continued speaking, knowing that I would have another go if she didn't, "Look, just be careful, alright?"

"I always am," I promised. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Lottie. Love you."

"You too."

I lowered my phone from my ear and locked it once more, sliding it into my pocket. I really did need to sort things out with Stiles.

But I didn't know why she had brought Isaac up. He was literally the one telling me to get my shit together in terms of Stiles. Maybe I needed to talk to him also.

Isaac and Boyd's room was on the way to mine, so I decided I might as well see if he was there. Knocking lightly on the door, I looked into the window. The lights were all off.

"Isaac? Are you there?"
I knocked again, but there was no reply. I listened carefully, but all I could hear was static. Had they left the television on maybe?
"I just need to talk to you about something."

After a few more minutes of waiting and receiving no reply, I decided he was either not there, or ignoring me.
"Never mind. We can talk later."

The room I was sharing with Allison and Lydia wasn't too far away thankfully. Testing the handle, I found it was unlocked, so I pushed the door open and walked in.

"Both-barrels-of-a-shotgun-in-the-mouth suicides," was the first thing I heard as I walked in.

Shutting the door quietly my eyes narrowed at the girls, "Hey, I'm really gonna need some context here."

Allison explained that Lydia had went to reception to get towels and found out that the owners were keeping count of how many suicides had occurred in their motel. One-hundred-and-ninety-eight. It was sickening to think that a person would find that interesting enough to keep count.

"Did you hear that?" Lydia asked as Allison and I were talking.

We stopped to listen for a moment, but the room remained silent. Allison asked her what she was talking about for the both of us, clearly not having heard it either.

Lydia didn't answer the question, just slowly turned around and stepped up onto the bed. She took careful steps until she was standing in the middle, then just stood there staring at the air vent.

Allison and I exchanged concerned glances, and then Lydia began to shake, mumbling beneath her breath.
"Hey, what's going on?" I asked as calmly as possible.

She remained silent, until she clapped her hand to her mouth and began to step backwards. Allison and I both got ready to catch her in case she fell off the bed, but the girl maintained her balance.

"What is it, Lydia? What happened?" The young Argent questioned.

Lydia still wouldn't face us, "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Jumping down from the bed, she stood in front of Allison. "The two people in the other room- they shot each other."

Before we could ask her any more on the subject she was out the door. Allison and I followed without a word, watching as she counted rooms and found the one she claimed to have heard a gunshot come from.

Taking a hold of the handle she lowered it and pushed the door open slowly, tears staining her cheeks.
"Hello?"

Allison and I joined her in the door way as she began to flip the light switch. Unfortunately, nothing happened and the room remained dark.

"I don't like this," I told the girls quietly.

Lydia took short breaths as she stepped into the room looking for any signs of life. Or at least proof that there had actually been someone in the room in the first place.

Flipping the switch on an industrial light, the strawberry blonde bathed the room in a yellow glow. With the lights on we were able to see the whole room, and there was no one in here. And there wasn't going to be for a while by the looks of it; the room was under some maintenance.

"It had to be right here," Lydia told us. "It was a guy and a girl, and, I mean, they sounded younger, but. . . they were here."
She looked so desperate to make sure we believed her.

Allison stepped forward, nodding, "We believe you." I quickly nodded in agreement as the brunette continued to talk.
"After everything we've been through, I believe you."

After we all took a moment to survey the room once more, we decided the best decision would be to return to our room.

As soon as we got there, Lydia was packing up her things and telling us to as well. "You both know, there is something seriously wrong with this place. Hey, Allison, Riley, we need to leave."

"But they were suicides, not murders," Allison pointed out. "And it's not like this place is haunted, right?"

I noticed her looking at me to back her up, but I pursed my lips. "I mean, we've seen weirder things. Nothing would surprise me at this point, to be honest."

Lydia nodded, her face stone-cold serious. "Maybe it is haunted. You know, I bet that couple made their suicide pact in that very room. Maybe that's why they're renovating. Maybe they've been scraping brain matter off the wood panelling."

"Maybe we should find out," Allison told her, trying to reason with the girl who was on the edge of hysterics.

For what felt like the millionth time that night, we left our room. Since Allison and I hadn't been there before Lydia lead the way to reception. The night was dark, the only light coming from the motel's fluorescent overhead lights, buzzing softly.

I slowed down, listening. Someone nearby was sobbing. Looking at the room numbers we were passing and listening to the sound, I realised that I may know who it was.

Tapping Allison on the shoulder, I spoke to her, "You guys go ahead, there's something I need to check."

She hesitated for a moment, before nodding. "Okay, but text us if something happens."

When I agreed, she went and caught up with Lydia, leaving me alone under the fluorescent lights. Taking a deep breath, I turned around and walked back two doors until I reached Isaac and Boyd's room.

I raised my hand to knock, but remembered that hadn't exactly worked for me last time. Gripping the cold, metal handle, I spun it and pushed open the door.

The room was dark and cold and I couldn't see Boyd or Isaac anywhere. Just as I went to turn the light on I heard a small whimpering sound. Freezing, I surveyed the room again, looking more carefully.

There seemed to be a shape on one of the beds, curled up tightly in a ball. Forgetting about the light, I tiptoed my way up to the bed to find someone with a pillow wrapped around their head.

My hand was shaking as I reached forward and grabbed the pillow. Slowly and steadily, I began to pull the pillow away to reveal Isaac. His eyes were wide and his face was covered in sweat; he looked terrified.

"Isaac?" I spoke softly, trying to get his attention. He remained docile, staring forward.
"Isaac," I said more firmly.

His eyes shifted to look at me, the expression on his face changing. He no longer looked scared, he looked angry. Moving faster than I anticipated, his hand came out of no where and grabbed my arm.

He climbed up off the bed and stared down at me, eye beginning to glow gold. "Why are you here?"

Trying to stay calm I kept myself from looking at my arm. "I thought I heard someone in trouble. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I was never okay," he exclaimed, his claws breaking the skin of my arm and drawing blood.

"Isaac-"

The werewolf let his head fall to the side, "No one was there. They all just left. They all left me with him. You left me."

I began to shake my head, denying it, "I didn't leave you. I'm here, aren't I?"
There wasn't a full moon, so what was going on?

Isaac chuckled darkly, "But you did. You left me, for him."

"I thought you said you were okay? That you moved on?" My eyes kept flickering to my arm and the trail of blood trickling from each spot where claw met skin.

I managed to keep my breathing under control for now, not letting my emotions get the best of me. Losing control over my abilities was the last thing I needed right now. Or maybe it was exactly what I needed.

Either way, I needed to figure out a way to diffuse this situation as soon as possible.

"Well, I guess not," he mumbled. "Riley, I love you. You knew that, and you still walked away."

"I'll always love you, Isaac." I hesitated before continuing, but I knew lying wasn't going to get me anywhere. "I just can't love you the way you want me to. Not anymore."

"That's a shame."
He then bared his fangs, eye glowing brighter than before.

"What are you doing?" I asked quickly, trying to get my arm away. "Isaac?"

As he dug into my arm further, I knew it was now or never. Closing my eyes I focused on my surroundings instead of the pain I was feeling.

When I no longer heard growling, I opened my eyes. Isaac was gasping for air, but he was also still managing to keep a hold of me.
"Isaac, you need to let go. You need to let me go."

He fought against me for as long as he could, but even werewolves could only hold their breath for so long. Finally, he removed his hand, bringing both to his throat as he dropped to his knees.

Releasing him from my hold, I ran out of the room, leaving him there. I didn't stop running until I reached my room, closing the door behind me and sinking to the floor.

Tears began to spill over my cheeks as I recounted each moment. I had left him, but he had never held that against me before. At least, that's what he told me.

There wasn't a full moon, but something was definitely going on here. Isaac would never do that, no matter how angry he was at me.

♡♢♤♧

I was still sitting on the floor when Allison appeared in the room. "Riley, there you are. Have you seen Scott?"

Shaking my head, I kept my head down, staring at my arm.

"Hey, what happened?"

"I don't know," I sniffled. "I went to see Isaac, but he was totally off. He went all werewolf and grabbed my arm and I just- I don't know what came over him."

"I think I do," Allison knelt down in front of me and examined my arm. There were no more wounds, but it still had dry blood trails.
"We think the werewolves are being targeted by the Darach. We haven't figured out how yet, but we know heat stops it. Lydia and Stiles have saved Ethan, Boyd and Isaac. But we can't find Scott."

Wiping my eyes, I cleared my throat and stood up. "We'd better go and look for him then."
I could have my meltdown later; right now, I needed to find my best friend before he ended up dead.

We met with Lydia and Stiles outside, who claimed they thought that whatever had happened to the other werewolves was happening to Scott also. It was a reasonable explanation. Scott would never disappear when people were in danger.

Deciding that they wanted to get the last flare to snap Scott out of it before we found him, we headed towards the bus. Unfortunately for us, someone had already found the flare.

Scott was standing in front of the school bus, his whole body doused in gasoline, holding the last flare in his hand.

We all walked around to stand in front of the boy, who looked completely miserable. Lydia, Stiles and I stood back as Allison stepped towards him, "Scott. . . Scott."

My hand moved of its own volition, finding itself clasping Stiles'. I felt a slight weight lift when he didn't push me away, but instead, he held tightly.

"There's no hope," Scott mumbled.

Allison smiled, trying to play off her fear. "What do you mean, Scott? There's always hope."

"Not for me," he replied sadly, gasoline dripping from his hair. "Not for Derek."

He was still blaming himself. Scott always had the worst habit of believing that anything bad that happened to anyone was always his fault. And that had finally taken a toll in the form of the Darach's manipulation.

"Derek wasn't your fault," Allison tried to remind him, her strength faltering. "You know Derek wasn't your fault."

"Every time I try to fight back, it just gets worse. People keep getting hurt. People keep getting killed."

Seeing him like this was heart breaking. Scott had always managed to stay so positive throughout everything we had been through, and now he was crumbling.

"Scott, listen to me, okay?" Stiles said, taking a step forward. Not letting him let go of me, I stepped forward with him. "This isn't you, all right? This is someone inside your head telling you to do this. Okay? Now-"

"What if it isn't?" Scott asked, cutting him off. "What if it is just me? What if doing this is actually the best thing that I could do for everyone else? It all started that night, the night I got bitten. You remember the way it was before that? Me, you and Riley, we were-we were- we were nothing."

I felt tears pricking at the backs of my eyes as he spoke. "That's not true, Scott," but even I barely believed my own words.

"It is. We weren't popular. Stiles and I weren't good at lacrosse. We weren't important. We were no one. Maybe I should just be no one again." He looked up at us all, breathing fast and quaking slightly, "No one at all."

As Scott held the flare out and prepared to drop it, I felt Stiles' grip on my hand tighten. "Scott, just listen to me, okay? You're not no one. Okay? You're someone, you're- Scott, you're my best friend. Okay? And I need you. Scott, you're my brother."

Stiles glanced down at our intertwined fingers, giving one last squeeze before untangling himself.

"Stiles, what are you doing?" I asked softly.

He gave me one last fleeting look, before stepping cautiously into the puddle of gasoline surrounding Scott. "All right, so. . . so if you're gonna do this, then. . . I think you're just gonna have to take me with you."

Stiles grabbed onto the flare and stared Scott dead in the eyes, not giving him a moment to doubt that Stiles would burn with him. I went to go and get him, but Lydia grabbed my arm and held me back. When I went to tell her off, she just shook her head.

"I can't lose them both," I gulped, trying to release myself from her. "I can't."

Glancing back over, I saw Stiles pull the flare out of Scott's hand right before throwing it away from them both.

Scott didn't say anything as his body began to shake and tears welled in his eyes. I couldn't even imagine what was going through his head.

Then, out of no where, Lydia screamed and ran towards the boys. Allison grabbed my hand and pulled me after her as fast as she could.

A quick glimpse over my shoulder was enough to see what was happening. The flare had somehow rolled back and caught the gasoline, which was now quickly lighting up.

Just as it exploded into bright orange flames, Lydia pushed both of the boys down, saving them both from becoming barbecue. The force of the mini explosion knocked us all off of our feet. As I laid on the wet cement I could feel the heat from the flames behind us, relief washing over me as I looked over and saw that all my friends were safe.

♡♢♤♧

After everything that had happened we all decided that there was no way we were spending the rest of the night in this horror-show of a motel. Therefore, we went our separate ways to gather our things and decided to meet at the bus.

But, I chose to make a pit stop. Knocking lightly on the door, I let myself in to Scott and Stiles' room. They both looked at me as I entered, curious as to why I was there.

"I'm glad you're okay, Scott," I smiled, before focusing on Stiles. "Can we talk? Please?"

Scott and Stiles made eye contact, and when Stiles nodded the other boy packed the rest of his things and headed for the door. "I'll meet you guys on the bus."

After he was out of what we presumed to be werewolf earshot, I dropped my bag and went straight over to Stiles and wrapped my arms around him. "You're insane. I could kill you right now."

"Well, you could try, but I'm a bit like a cockroach. Hard to kill," he laughed softly.

I stepped back, "This isn't a joke. I almost lost you both tonight, and I can't deal with that. I can't lose you both. I can't-"

Stiles pulled me back towards him, his arms enveloping me. "It's okay. We're okay. I would never leave you."

His words began to reignite my emotions, hitting all the right notes. Knowing that he would always be there was a confirmation I didn't know I needed until I heard it. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"What for?"

"For becoming someone I'm not. For making you scared of me."

He leaned back just enough that he could meet my eyes, the confusion clear. "Riley, you are whoever you want to be. If that is part human, part sylph, then that's who you are. You don't need to apologise."

Stiles than brought his hands up from my waist to my face, resting one on each cheek. "And for the record, you don't scare me. I'm fearless, remember?"

Cocking an eyebrow, I went up onto my tiptoes and moved forward until our lips were only inches a part. "Then how come it sounds like there is a jack hammer inside your chest right now?" I asked in a somewhat quiet voice.

I expected Stiles to stumble for words like he normally did; to panic and vomit out nonsense sentences. But instead, he maintained eye contact and didn't even shrink away, "Because I don't want to risk screwing up any chance I might ever have with you again."

"If that's the case, then it should be me who's afraid. You've given me more chances than necessary. You deserve so much better, and I'm sorry."

He shook his head, I had never seen him look so confident. "I really don't think it could get any better, and if it does, then I don't want it. There is no doubt in my mind that I've never wanted anything else, or needed anything else. Always you. Only you."

My heart felt full hearing his words. Finally taking the leap of faith I should have chanced long ago, I pushed myself forward and connected our lips. To be wanted by someone was a powerful feeling; to know that you meant as much to them as they you, it was enough to light fires.

Our lips moved in rhythm, our bodies pressing together like puzzle pieces finally connecting. I was tired of letting the supernatural fraction of my life take control of everything. I needed normality in my life, something steady to hold onto when everything else was crumbling.

I needed him, and I was finally ready to admit that.

Disconnecting our lips to catch my breath, I looked into his eyes. The hazel was something I could lose myself in. No one looked at me the way he did; I could see that now. He was always there, ready to catch me. He deserved so much better, yet he always chose me.

"I love you, Stiles Stilinski."

Taking a deep breath, he took half a step back. "Oh, okay. I'm going to need a minute."

My heart was ready to break in half, until I saw the corner of his mouth curve up in a smile. "That's not funny, Stilinski! You know what? I take it back," I claimed, turning away.

With a small laugh, he grabbed my waist and spun me back around, planting his lips on mine. My annoyance melted away as I sunk into him. Unlocking our lips, he rested his forehead on mine, "Sorry to inform you, but there's no take-backs, Winters. So, you're just gonna have to suck it up and accept that you love me. . . and I love you."