"I don't get it. She's not even my real aunt-"

"Stiles, calm down," The sheriff breathes, watching his son pace back and forth, slowly regretting saying anything. But he had to tell him, he couldn't put this off any longer.

"Calm down? We're talking about packing up my life and moving it to the other side of the country," Stiles breathes, voice shaking with this unsteady laughter that makes his eyes ache and is throat dry. "To South Carolina. There is nothing cool about going to South Carolina,"

"Except for it's safe,"

"And boring,"

"At least you'll be safe," His dad stresses, leaning back in his seat, heaving a sigh as he looks at the way his son's jaw drops. This conversation is clearly nowhere near being over.

"Is this about the supernatural serial killer? Dad we've dealt with a lot worse, remember? I mean, dealing with a Chimera or the Dread Doctors was manageable, but boredom? That's what's going to kill me," Stiles heaves out in one breath and his dad only understood half of what he was saying, but he's pretty sure the point his son was trying to get across was that this was a stupid idea.

"I know you think this is stupid-"

"Yes! Exactly!" Stiles breathes out, flailing his arms.

"... But after everything that has happened, it gives me even more reason to make sure my only child is out of harm's way," He mutters and at this point he sounds like a broken record, a scratched disc and Stiles wants to throw it out and pretend such a cd never existed. That he didn't have such poor taste in music, or in this case, an overprotective father.

"...What about my friends? You're asking me to just leave and what? Finish the year without them?" Stiles questions and he suddenly calm, no longer pacing the room like a nervous junkie, his fist balled at his sides as he looks over at his dad. There's this pleading look in his gaze and he understands. His father gets it and knows this won't be easy. He doesn't want Stiles to leave , but he doesn't want him to die either.

"Stiles... the moment this case is closed and we get this..thing off the streets-"

"You'll send for me? And when it happens again? Then what?" Stiles breathes, slowly shaking his head. "Dad it's Beacon Hills... You might as well leave me in Ass Carolina-"

"Language," The Sheriff huffed, Stiles going quiet at that, a stale air hovering above them as this silent understanding settles between them. Beacon Hills would never be safe.

"Hey, you okay?" Allison frowns, quietly pulling Scott to the side, noticing the frown settling into the lines on his forehead. Scott slowly looks at her, eyes reluctantly tearing away from his phone.

"Yeah... Stiles isn't responding to my text though.." Scott frowns, Allison turning to throw a questioning gaze at Jackson, knowing he was listening. The beta, pretended not to notice Allison's gaze as Deaton gestured towards the map, saying something, but he wasn't really focused, this tiny voice in the back of his head, flooding his mind with questions.

Is he alright? Is it because he's still mad? Maybe he just overslept. Jackson wouldn't put it past Stiles to do something like that, but still. He couldn't help but worry.

"Seriously, stop being so stupid," Lydia huffs, suddenly knocking Jackson out of his thoughts, the beta moving to question her, but she slowly puts a hand up at that. "We're good here. We've got the plan down, we don't need you," She assures him, giving him her permission even though really he didn't need it.

"He's fine, so don't worry about it," Jackson huffs, Lydia raising a smug brow at that.

"I'm not the one who's worried though... now am I?" She hums, Jackson rolling his eyes at that.

"Jackson, go check on him," Deaton mutters and now the jock has this constipated look on his face, because there's a middle aged man telling him how to run his love life. All signs that he's hitting some sort of low.

"Whatever, I'm going home since you guys clearly rather play match maker," Jackson huffs, Lydia smirking at him like something was funny. Jesus, if she wasn't a girl, he'd punch that smug look off her face.

"Sure you are..." She drawls as he heads for the door and he really wishes he could throw something at her.

Derek is quiet as he watches Jackson walk out the door, the Alpha leaning against the wall, eyes scanning the room, looking at who all was still there, this permanent frown on his face.

"... Deaton," He begins, eyes landing on the vet and now everyone is looking at Derek as if he's some sort of never before seen species, his gaze being met by Deaton's.

"You said something may have triggered this... What?"

Erica sat there in her hospital bed, bored out her mind, the constant beeping of the heart monitor slowly starting to drive her crazy. She didn't understand why she was still here. She felt just fine. Okay, maybe she still was a little dizzy and got tired after an hour of walking, but she could recover at home. Sitting in this one colored room was driving her absolutely insane.

"Now I know how Stiles felt," She huffs to herself, eyes constantly drifting towards the door. It was just feet away, but it might as well be miles away with the way she walks, but still. She needed some fresh air. Staying in this room all day and night wasn't healthy.

Slowly swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she took a deep breath, getting ready for the long journey as he feet touched the cool tile of the floor. Trudging over to the door, her hand glued to the wall to keep her balance, she slowly cracks it open just enough to poke her head out, surveying the hallway. It was late, so the hall was relatively stepping all the way out of her room, she could see the nurses station down the hall, but the nurse there didn't seem to notice her, too busy talking on the phone.

Erica took the opportunity to head down the other way, hand still glued to the wall, unable to keep from getting frustrated at house slow she was walking, but her body was still adjusting and there wasn't anything she could do. The corridors were just up ahead, a few more feet and she'd reach them, make it to the elevator and outside.

"Where do you think you're going?" It was a warm, yet low voice that settled into Erica's ears and made her jump slightly as she felt a hand grab her shoulder. Turning around, eyes wide with confusion, she met an icy blue gaze, a man looking at her questioningly. How did she not notice him?

"Are you okay?" He frowns, a small line settling in his forehead, ruining the perfect, hot doctor look he was going for, but honestly, the worry was making him look sexier- wait what? Erica slowly shook her head as the tall, blonde man waited for her answer.

"N-no.. I mean I'm fine," She muttered quietly, noticing his strong jawline and sharp cheekbones. She glances down at his white lab coat, noticing his name stitched into the fabric there. Colin. Doctor Colin. Okay nope, the generic name totally ruined the mood.

"What are you doing out of your room?" He questions and his voice sounds like heaven, but all Erica can see is the name Colin. Perfect name for a cliche porno. A step above Doctor Sexy, but still.

"I wanted to get some fresh air," Erica muttered, letting him usher her back to her room. And to think she was so close to escaping.

"I know you might be going crazy sitting in a room every day, but you need to rest," He states as they make it back to her room in seconds even though it took Erica years to get as far as she did.

"Going? I think I'm already crazy," Erica huffs under her breath, but it seems he heard her, because he gives her this soft smile as they walk into the room, his hand moving to the middle of her back, trying to help her into bed, but she swats at his hand as she moves to climb back into the prison they call a bed.

"I've got it," She huffs and he pulls away, putting his hands up in surrender, before moving to check her IV bag, heaving a sigh.

"You should really stop ripping this out. You need fluids," He mutters, Erica rolling her eyes at that.

"I don't want them," She frowns and now they are looking at each other, this weird stare off going on between them and when he finally looks away, she can't help but feel like she just won some really important battle.

"If you promise to keep your IV in, I'll... let you go outside tomorrow," He breathes out and Erica pauses at that. Maybe she didn't when the battle.

"Four hours,"

"Three, with a nurse to accompany you,"

"Three in a half and I get to choose the nurse,"

"Three and you don't have to go out in a wheelchair. Nurse of my choice though," Erica went quiet at that, clearly mulling it over as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"... Fine," She huffed, a smug smile crossing his lips. "But the courtyard the good one, not the one near the parking lot,"

"Hey, your wish is my command," He hums as he moves to stick the IV back in, Erica making a face that may be argued as portraying disgust as he moves to leave.

"Pretty people are so... gross," She grumbles to herself, rolling over onto her side.

"What am I doing?" Jackson huffs as he slowly pulls up in front of Stiles' house, his hands gripping the steering wheel as if it was the only thing keeping him flying out the window. As he stared over at the Stilinski home, seeing the cruiser and Jeep parked in the driveway, he figured there was no point going to knock on the door. He probably did just fall asleep. Either way, his dad was home too, so maybe Stiles was safe after all.

He moved to put his car in drive again, only to pause as the night before slowly flooded his mind. It was like Stiles was right there as he remembered what they boy had said.

Looking back on it, it was a stupid fight, but his knuckles started to turn white as he gripped the steering wheel even tighter.

"Just go home..." Jackson muttered to himself, but he could chant that one line to himself over and over all he wanted to. He still wasn't gonna go anywhere. The longer he sat there, the more he thought about their fight and the more he knew how stupid of a fight it was.

He should make up with him as soon as possible. Tell Stiles how much of a whiney bitch he was being and ask the smaller teen to find something sexy about that and take him back.

"I really am a whiney little bitch, though..." Jackson mutters to himself as if finalizing that observation, cause that's totally gonna help him with the fact that he's too damn scared to get out of his car and go see him.

"I'll just wait five minutes and if I'm still here, I'll go see him," Jackson mumbles quietly to himself and really someone should give this guy a freaking Pulitzer or something cause he's a genius. Like seriously, what an awesome plan.

"Hey..." Boyd mumbles quietly as he pokes his head through the door to see Erica sitting there in bed. It's like he hasn't moved from that spot since he left.

"What? Where were you earlier? If I knew you'd be here I would've left now instead of before! That stupid doctor made me lay back down," She rushes, clearly annoyed and Boyd closes the door behind him before moving to sit by her bed. Well, maybe she did move around after he left, but he honestly has no clue what she is talking about.

"Wait, aren't you suppose to be off somewhere, participating in group projects with the rest of our pack? Holding hands and chanting 'group effort'?" Erica frowns, and Boyd simply shakes his head.

"Funny," He hums and there he goes again, acting like a damn robot. Would actual laughter kill him or something? "... How are you feeling?" Boyd questions and Erica pauses at the question, looking down at her hands as if they'll have the answer written on their palms.

"I'm feeling better then I did yesterday... Getting stronger," She breathes out, tapping lightly at the iv in her wrist and Boyd is quiet for a moment.

"...I'm really glad you're okay," Boyd breathes and Erica can see it. The relief that glosses over his eyes and suddenly she remembers the way he hugged her the other day. She remembers how everyone left the room and it was just the two of them.

"Erica, if it hurts and anywhere, please jus-"

"Why are you being so nice?" She mutters, suddenly looking at him, her eyebrows furrowed, searching his face for answers and Boyd looks up at her, his eyes widening slightly as he slowly shakes his head. "Yesterday, you said a lot of things," Erica breathes out averting her eyes.

"I know. That was an error-"

"Error? Boyd stop acting like a damn robot. I only said those things to protect you, not so you could turn into Spock or something," Erica huffs, glaring at him. "I was only-"

"I know. I knew from the start nothing would happen," Boyd breathes, heaving a sigh, rubbing angrily at the sides of his thumbs. "I knew you'd be honest and tell me there was no chance, but still I said it anyway,"

"If you knew, then why would you put yourself through that?" Erica scoffs, staring at him like he was the biggest idiot on the earth.

"Because I realized this isn't a movie," Boyd breathes out. "You can be the main character and still die- Erica, you're a main character," Erica goes quiet at that, staring at him. She doesn't know what to say as he slowly takes her hand and she doesn't pull away. Instead, she grips his hand tight, like she needed the contact more than him. She grips his hand so tight her fingers start to go numb.

"Boyd..." She drawls, unable to tear away from his gaze. There's this silence that falls over them as he looks at her as if memorizing her features even though she looks like absolute crap right now. She's not even wearing makeup right now, yet her eyes sting like they do when she wears eyeliner. "That was such a shitty thing to say,"