Everyone is alive. The pack 2.0 is not in the picture. Derek left, but came back a few years ago. So did Isaac, after Derek came back. Scott is the alpha.

Isaac and Erica have been hit by a spell.

Authors note: I do not own TW or any of its characters. I only write stories about them. Hope you like it.

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Come to the loft. Something's wrong with Isaac, bringing him there. – Scott

Stiles, who had almost parked outside his house, muttered a curse, pocketed his phone and put his Jeep in reverse.

His dad was working tonight anyway, but Stiles had just finished lacrosse-practice and had been looking forward to get some sleep tonight. The hunters that had come through town last week was gone, but his bruises were not.

Parking outside Derek's loft, Stiles pulled his laptop from his backpack and hoped Isaac was alright.

"Hey. What's wrong with Isaac?" he said as he slid the door shut and walked into the room. A room that had actual furniture and no holes in the wall. It wasn't what Stiles would call homey, but it was better than what it had been years ago.

Derek looked up from the books scattered all over the large table in front of the windows. "It's not just Isaac. Erica has the same symptoms." With his arms crossed over his chest, he nodded over to the couch, where Erica was seated.

Stiles frowned. "She looks alright to me?" Walking over to her, he noticed her eyes had a glossy shine and her skin had turned into a grey-blue color. "Erica?"

Her eyes slowly made their way from looking into the air and over to Stiles face. A slow smile spread on her lips. "You're pretty."

"Um, uh.. thank you." Stiles looked at Scott, who had a thoughtful look. "What are the symptoms? They don't remember us? Her skin is grey. Scott? SCOTT!"

"Huh? Oh, sorry. Just thinking about what Deaton said."

"And what did he say?" Stiles looked back to Erica, who was still looking at him with a somewhat drugged smile.

"Deaton found traces of magic on both her and Isaac. It's a spell making them regress back to- like children. They forget. Soon they won't remember us at all and they'll forget about everything that has happened the last 10 years. Like-" He swallowed and Stiles felt Scott's sympathetic eyes on him.

"Like dementia" The words got dragged out of Stiles like a shaky whisper and he looked back to Erica, who was now looking into thin air again, like she didn't even register them being there. Stiles knew that look all too well.

Derek sighed. "Deaton says we have to take care of them until he can finish the mixture. But we need to know the name of the witch that cast the spell in order to break it." Derek looked at Stiles with steady eyes and Stiles managed a deep breath.

"Deaton is making the mixture as we speak. Several actually, as we're not sure just witch spell she used. When they drink it, he needs to say the counter-spell along with the name of the caster." Derek stepped closer to Stiles, who seemed a bit lost in memories. "Stiles. It's going to be okay." His voice was softer than usual and Stiles looked over at the man who had moved closer to them as he spoke.

"Yeah, I-" He cleared his throat and held up his laptop. "I'll see what I can find on witches and spells."

With one last glance on Erica, he walked over to the table, turned on his laptop and drummed his fingers on the table while he waited for it to boot up. "How are we going to find the witch that cast the spell? How much time do we have?"

Scott sat down across from him. "Deaton says we have a week. A few days, at least." The look on his best friends face told Stiles he was worried there wouldn't be enough time.

Derek cocked his head and looked towards the stairs. "Isaac's awake."

"I'll go get him." Scott got up and disappeared upstairs.

The silence stretched across the loft, only the sound of the laptop to keep them company.

Stiles felt a hand on his arm and looked up from the screen to meet the eyes of his friend. "We're going to fix this, Stiles."

He swallowed. He believed Derek when he said that. He had come to rely on and trust Derek in the years that had passed. Derek might have been a shitty alpha in the start, but he had changed a lot. Being a beta suited him. The rest of the them had changed as well. For the better, in Stiles opinion. They were a pack now. They had grown up. And with everyone almost finished with their educations and degrees, they were all moving back to Beacon Hills.

Derek gave Stiles arm a comforting squeeze before Scott and Isaac came down the stairs.

"Hey buddy. How are you feeling?" Stiles asked Isaac, who smiled wide at the soft question and came over to sit next to Stiles.

"Good." He looked at Stiles, who bumped their shoulders together and Isaac beamed before going still. "I'm hungry."

"I'll fix you something to eat, Isaac. Come with me." Derek said. He looked like he used to, the only difference were the eyebrows that showed just how concerned he was about his packmates.

As Isaac and Derek left for the kitchen, Stiles looked over to Scott. "He seems better than Erica. Not as progressed as her. And his skin isn't as grey either."

"I know. We don't know why. I've never seen anything like this. We didn't even notice anything different at first either."

"I know you went out to run the borders last night. And I can't exactly come along for that, no wolfy-speed, but why didn't you call me when shit went south?"

Scott frowned. "There was nothing out of the ordinary. We ran the borders as usual and on our way back, Derek remembered you mentioning something last night about the vibe being off or something so we decided to check it out. We didn't know she would still be there. And she noticed us right away, even before we saw her."

"I knew there was something going on, I just couldn't put my finger on it." He ran a hand through his hair, like he had taken to a habit since it had grown out. "Can you remember the words she used?"

Scott shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "I don't think it was English. It sounded old, like-" He whined. "I'm not good at language, you know that."

Stiles snorted. "Only you Scott. Was it Latin? French?"

"It was Hebraic or something close to that." Derek came back with Isaac in tow, who was happily chewing on a sandwich. "At least it had that flow in the words. I don't remember the exact words, but I heard something like hokmeh or hokma." He frowned. Well, frowned deeper. "And taket? Or something. Lepar? Not sure. I didn't have the time to listen all that well, seeing as green flames came after us." He looked over to Erica, who was chewing slowly on her own sandwich. "She threw the green flames after us, but Erica and Isaac were the only ones who were hit."

Stiles worked quickly and just as Erica also finished her sandwich, he made a triumphant sound and looked at Derek. "Ma, also translated hokhmah, is the Hebrew word for 'wisdom'. And toqeph means power, strength or energy." He raised a brow. "A witch could probably want all of those things so.." He squinted at the screen. "Did she maybe use the word tephar?" He looked at Derek, who shrugged. "It means claw." Stiles looked at the screen. "Or nail. But seeing as you have claws, something most people don't have, I imagine she uses the word in the werewolf sense."

Scott leaned back in his chair, a frustrated look in his eyes. "She knew we were there before we even saw her. I mean, I could smell her but I couldn't see her. And how did she know what we were?"

"Powerful witches just know shit like that, dude. She could probably feel your energy as you came within range." Stiles sighed and looked around. "Where's Boyd and the rest?"

"Out looking for her." Derek stood looking out the window, as if he could sense what Boyd was doing.

"I don't think they can find her as long as she doesn't want to be found, but-" Stiles jumped in his chair as he felt a hand sliding under his shirt and over the small of his back. "Heeey, Erica. A little touchy there, huh? Are you- Scott, is she purring?" Scott tensed, but started smiling when he saw that Erica just wanted to cuddle. Stiles took her hand and tried prying it out from under his clothes but she didn't want any of that, and growled until Stiles gave up and continued typing, bravely ignoring the roaming hand all over his back. "You act all tough and brave, but you are a cuddler. Who knew?" Stiles mumbled as he continued typing on his laptop, with Erica plastered to his side, making content noises.

He met Derek's eyebrows of doom from across the table and raised his own. "What? It's not like I can wrestle her off me and win. I tried. Besides, she's only scratching my back- Hey, no! Erica, not below the waistline." He caught her wrist, sitting almost twisted in his chair. "You want to stroke my back, alright. But not below the waistline, Catwoman. If you do, I'll have Scott help me get you off me." He thought he heard Derek give a warning growl but couldn't be sure as he was trying his best to keep her hands away from him.

A high pitched whine came from Erica but she kept her hand above the waist and Stiles turned back to his work.

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