Eighteen

"A THOUSAND DOLLARS?"

Stiles echoed the price that fell from Brunski's mouth in disbelief. He arrived with Lydia at Eichen House only a few minutes prior and were trying to convince Brunski to let them into the filing cabinet. "To use one little key to open up one little file room? Are you out of your mind?"

The head orderly smirked, stating, "When you get the keys, you make the price."

"Right," Stiles muttered under his breath before raising his voice to ask, "Do you actually think we have that kind of money?"

"Oh, I know you don't." Brunski didn't even blink, snapping, "If you did, Daddy Sheriff would've paid the bill by now." His eyes shifted to Lydia, who hadn't uttered a word. "That's why I'm talking to her."

Lydia held her tongue, inhaling sharply in annoyance as she pulled her wallet out of her purse. Glancing at Stiles, she then looked down at the cash in the pocket. "I have two hundred," she revealed, staring at Brunski straight in the eye so he'd know she was telling the truth. His smirk widened, leading her to begrudgingly toss the money on his desk.

Brunski turned around in his office chair, wanting to turn off his music since he'd be leaving.

Stiles froze at the sight of a cassette player, instantly thinking of how the Benefactor was known to put tapes with the bags of money received after a kill. Lydia seemed to be on the same page as she slightly elbowed him in the ribs.

They exchanged worried glances, but Brunski didn't notice as he sighed in contentment, literally smelling the money he had just received. He stood up, his smirk still ever present as he grabbed his keys. "Follow me."

Lydia showed signs of hesitation, but Stiles nodded once for her to follow him. The two stayed close together and it didn't take them long to reach the records room. "You good?" Brunski asked once he unlocked the door, letting them inside.

"Yeah," Stiles answered him, "We can help ourselves." Stepping away from him, he turned to Lydia and lowered his voice, "Do you have the list?"

Lydia pulled it out of her purse and handed it to him, casting a worried look at Brunski, who had moved to guard the door. Stiles studied the list of names in his hand, figuring it was best to just start at the top.

Parrish told them at the police station earlier that every name had committed suicide within the past ten years at Eichen House. But Lydia knew there had to be more to the story. That's why she and Stiles were there— to figure out the truth.

Stiles's breath got caught in his throat at a scribble at the bottom of the paper, knowing it wasn't there before.

"Lydia," he called her over quietly. "Why did you write another name on here?"

"I didn't write anything," Lydia replied, puzzled.

Stiles pointed to the deadpool, "This is your handwriting."

"Why would I write another name?" she wondered out loud, her brows furrowed.

"Why would you write mine?"

"It was the tapes," Brunski's gravelly voice caught their attention, him appearing right beside them between two support beams. "Wasn't it?"

Stiles didn't have time to react, the orderly pressing the taser from his hand into Stiles's stomach.

Stiles collapsed to the floor, his body spazzing as Brunski chuckled darkly, turning to Lydia. "Your turn, sweetheart."

*^*^*^*^*

When Stiles and Lydia came to, they were no longer freely standing. Still in the records room, Brunski had handcuffed them with their backs to the support beams. Brunski disappeared, leaving them alone with no escape.

Lydia started crying out for help at the top of her lungs, not knowing what else to do while Stiles tried uselessly to break free. "Help us! Someone help!"

Stiles didn't want to be pessimistic, but couldn't help but comment, "Lydia, there's a lot of people screaming for help in a place like this. I don't think anyone's listening."

"Well, I'm open to better ideas," Lydia replied bitterly, twisting her head so she at least saw part of him. "Because if you didn't notice, all of those suicides were murders."

Stiles thought back to Lydia's grandmother and the deadpool. "That's why she left you the message."

"She predicted her own death," Lydia snapped, a tear running down her cheek. She wasn't mad at Stiles and she didn't want to yell at him; she was mad at herself for not figuring out the mystery sooner.

"She knew I'd figure it out," she told him, just as the door to the room reopened.

"Once you were able to predict your own," Brunski added onto her statement, coming into view as he slammed the door shut again. Stiles and Lydia scrambled to move farther away but it was pointless. "But they weren't murders." He spat at them, "I am not some serial killer like Ted Bundy, going around cutting up college girls."

"No," Stiles scoffed. "You're just an Angel of Death."

Brunski glared at him, kneeling down so Stiles could hear him clearly.

"I don't think you understand my level of commitment to my work here, Stiles," he harshly said in an undertone. "There are people here who simply don't need treatment. They need release. I helped them...I helped Lorraine."

Lydia stared aimlessly forward, tears running down her pale cheeks. Angrily, she whispered, "You killed her."

Brunski scowled, stating again, "I helped her." He leaned away from Stiles, shuffling closer so he was right beside Lydia. "And now you can help me...because there was something about it, something about it always bothered me."

He forced Lydia to look what was in his hand and she felt like breaking down all over again once she read her grandmother's name on the tape.

Stiles couldn't see what he was doing at first, but when he turned his head he saw Brunski slipping the tape into his cassette player. And then he hit play.

The only sounds at first were footsteps and a door closing, but chills ran down Lydia's spine when her grandmother's worried voice entered her ears.

"What're you...Brunski, what're you doing?" Lorraine questioned the orderly, who answered darkly.

"Don't worry, Lorraine. It's going to be all right."

Stiles glowered as Brunski went on, "You're just going to have a little trouble breathing."

Lydia's breaths came out short and rapid, tears clouding her vision from hearing her grandmother suffer at the hands of the man beside her.

"Lydia," Stiles desperately tried to pull her attention, turning his head to the other side. "Look at me. Don't listen. Okay? Don't listen to it. Just listen to my voice, alright? Don't listen to it; block it out. Okay?"

But the only sounds Lydia heard came from the tape, no matter how hard she tried. Stiles grunted, pulling at the handcuffs that kept him chained to the support beam. "Lydia?!" he called her name again, knowing this audio was destroying her.

Stiles glared daggers at Brunski and shouted in aggravation, "Hey, turn it off!"

"Stop!" Lydia cried out as Brunski lost his temper, Stiles falling back to the ground from the force of Brunski's swing.

Lydia could barely breathe as the man gripped one hand under her chin, done with the games. "Then listen," he ordered, his tone shaking with anger. His nails dug into her skin as he repeated, "Just listen."

Lydia squeezed her eyes shut as he pressed his mouth against her ear, spitting, "I need your help with this, Lydia."

"Please don't..." her grandmother begged on the tape.

"Here it is," Brunski growled, tightening his grip on the girl as he muttered, "This is the part I never understood. Listen."

Lorraine was breathing heavily but impetrated, "Please don't hurt her."

"Don't hurt who?"

"Ariel."

Brunski released Lydia's jaw once the word played, Lydia closing her eyes as her grandmother breathed her last breath.

The tape clicked, signaling the end. Brunski smirked at the crestfallen expression covering Lydia's face and raised back to his feet.

"You know, we get a lot of teenagers trying to break into our drug cabinets," he shared, lifting a kit off one of the shelves. He faced them once more, kneeling back down so he could open it. "Most of the time they don't succeed."

His dark eyes flickered between them as he let out a low chuckle, "But you two? Look pretty clever to me."

He lifted up a needle in his hand and a bottle of what Stiles could only guess as some kind of sleeping drug.

Stiles and Lydia, realizing his plan, started to squirm and yank as hard as they could on their handcuffs to get away from him.

"And I'll admit, Stiles," Brunski continued as he filled the syringe, "I don't have any...unusual talents like Lydia." He paused to flick the cartridge. "But, somehow, I just knew we were gonna get a chance to do this again," Brunski grinned evilly at the boy, referencing Stiles's first time at Eichen House. With the needle in hand, Brunski moved closer to him.

Stiles closed his eyes, accepting his fate. If someone had to go first, Stiles would rather it be him than Lydia.

But Brunski knew better.

At the last second, Brunski latched his hand on Lydia's jaw as Stiles shouted, "Wait, no!"

"Drop it!" a new voice demanded just as Brunski was about to press the syringe. The orderly turned to see Parrish pointing a gun at his chest. "Take your thumb off that needle and slowly withdraw it from her neck."

"Young Deputy," Brunski didn't seemed fazed by his appearance, and even chuckled under his breath. "You're just a kid. I bet you've never even fired a--"

Parrish didn't let him finish.

The bullet pierced Brunksi's upper chest, causing him to collapse on his back. Parrish kept his gun pointed at him, bending down and using his free hand to undo Lydia's chains.

"He...He killed my grandmother," Lydia choked out, scrambling to stand as Parrish moved to help Stiles. "He was the one controlling Meredith."

"He used her to create the deadpool," Stiles agreed as Lydia glared at the man.

"And he killed her when she tried to help us."

Parrish glanced at them in bewilderment, but focused on Brunski, who suddenly gasped and sputtered up blood. Brunski laughed maniacally, his teeth covered in red as he bled out. Weakly, he asked, "You...you think it was me?" He coughed, more blood dripping down his chin. "That I...That I was controlling...her?"

"Idiots..." Brunski spat, despite the darkness starting to overtake him. He blinked, a single tear falling down as he revealed, "She was...She was controlling me."

Lydia and Stiles stared at him in horror, watching his head roll to the side and a breath escape his lips for the last time.

Processing his words, Lydia's breath hitched. "Oh, God," she whispered, turning her head to look at Stiles. "It's not him. He's not the Benefactor."

"No," a familiar woman's voice agreed with Lydia, and all three of their heads snapped to the doorway. Stiles dropped his jaw as she stepped into the light, continuing, "And...he wasn't on my list. But he was a bad person."

Meredith.

*^*^*^*^*

Just when Sierra thought the night was starting to wind down, Scott received a text message from Kira that got them back on the move.

Sierra had driven the jeep home so she could get some rest, parking in Stiles's driveway and walking over to her house. However, she wasn't even able to change before Scott called and informed her he'd be picking her up in five minutes.

Scott ran down the stairs of his home, catching Liam up on what was going on. Sierra had instructed Scott to give Liam some fresh clothes and to let him spend the night, but Scott couldn't just stay home.

Because Kira found Brett and Lori, Brett's little sister. They were surrounded by hunters, all with lasers pointing at Brett's chest ready to fire. Kira arrived just in time, and the three were able to run off. Unfortunately, that didn't mean they were safe.

Scott handed Liam his extra helmet for his bike. "Brett and Lori are fine, but we gotta go," Scott rushed, heading for the back door.

"More assassins?" Liam trailed behind him, his fingers loosely holding the helmet.

"Maybe a lot more."

"Different from the ones who just tried to set us on fire?" Liam inquired, hesitant to follow as he stopped by the kitchen table.

"I think so, yeah." Scott opened the back door, and then paused, recognizing the tremor of fear in Liam's voice. Liam didn't say anything else, but Scott heard his heart pick up speed. He bowed his head as Scott turned back around to face him.

Sierra's words echoed in Scott's head. We can't force him to be involved if he doesn't want to be.

Scott's face softened, and he shut the door. Liam placed the helmet on the table, avoiding Scott's eyes. He thought Scott would be mad or upset. He didn't expect him to quietly ask, "How about I take you home?"

"I'm not like you," Liam defended his own decision, barely above a whisper.

Scott offered him a small, reassuring smile. "Not yet."

"I don't mean I'm not strong," Liam replied, not liking Scott's answer. "Or I'm never gonna learn how to be in control." He paused, letting out a small sigh before he continued, "I mean everything else. You, Sierra and your friends try to protect anyone. Have you been doing this the whole time? I mean, how are you all still alive?"

His words struck Scott pretty hard, the memories of his past friends...the memory of Allison making his breath slightly hitch. Feeling his voice get caught in his throat, Scott forced himself to reply, "Not all of us are."

Liam furrowed his eyebrows, another phrase tumbling out of his lips before he even realized, "You mean Allison."

Scott's lips parted in surprise, and he hoped he misheard Liam. "What?"

"Allison Argent," Liam clarified gently. "The new bench at school...the one they put in the garden. Her name is on it. People said she died because of some people trying to steal her car but...that's not true. Is it? I remember Sierra mentioning a girl helping you during the battle with Mizuki."

"Allison..."  Scott closed his eyes as his voice cracked at her name. "Allison died protecting us." Not wanting to talk about it anymore, Scott changed the topic. "One day, Sierra and I will tell you about her. How about right now you let me take you home?"

Liam nodded slowly and Scott let out a small sigh of relief before heading out the door once more. Liam felt guilty as Scott drove him home, the older werewolf barely saying anything the entire ride there and only offering him a smile before driving off.

*^*^*^*

At the police station, Lydia waited all night after Meredith was brought in. She and Stiles told everyone the truth; Meredith Walker was the Benefactor. And now, they needed her to tell them how to stop the deadpool.

"What did she say?" Lydia interrogated the sheriff as soon as he stepped out of his office.

"Hard to tell," Noah replied, his arm in a sling due to his surgery. "There were words. I'm not sure there were actual sentences."

Lydia sighed, her hope fading. "Nothing."

"I think we need a psychologist," Noah mumbled, moving forward to pick up the landline phone. "Or a medium."

Lydia scoffed and muttered under her breath, "Is she even competent enough to be charged with something?"

Noah put the phone back down. "If Meredith is the Benefactor, then that means she was competent enough to trick Kate into opening the Hale Vault," he stated clearly. "Competent enough to blackmail Brunski into helping her, and competent enough to create a hit list and pay out money for its completion." Noah motioned to Meredith, who sat on the couch in his office. "This girl's practically a criminal mastermind."

"There's gotta be a reason why she would do this," Lydia said softly, looking up at the sheriff.

"I'm only interested in the why, if it tells me the how," he replied seriously.

Lydia understood the meaning of his words. "You mean how to stop it."

"After what happened to Scott and Sierra tonight, this thing's still going," Noah told her. "The payments could be automatic. And as long as the killers are getting paid, and paid very well, that list is going to keep getting smaller."

"We don't just need to stop the deadpool," Lydia caught on.

"We need to stop the money."

*^*^*^*

When Scott and Sierra arrived at the animal clinic, Kira greeted them happily. Well, more so Scott than Sierra.

Sierra chuckled as the two kissed, knowing how dearly the couple missed one another. They broke apart for a moment, Scott's hands cupping Kira's cheeks as he asked worriedly, "Is your mom--"

"She's okay," Kira nodded, a smile on her face. "She's healing."

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"Are you okay?" Scott asked seriously.

Kira answered, "Right now? Very."

They kissed again, leading Sierra to speak up. "God, Stiles and I aren't this bad, are we?" she teased, creating distance between them as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Scott chuckled, but kept Kira close by holding her hand. "You two are much worse."

Sierra rolled her eyes, but a small smile was present on her lips as she turned to Kira. "So you found him? You found Brett?"

"Actually, I think I found all of them," Kira said vaguely, making Scott and Sierra exchange concerned glances. "Come on." Tugging on Scott's hand, Kira led them into the back examination room.

"Satomi," Kira called out quietly as Scott and Sierra noticed Brett and Lori standing behind the metal table. "This is who I was telling you about."

An older Japanese woman stepped forward with a smile, "You don't have to tell me who Scott McCall and Sierra Page are."

Confused, Scott and Sierra looked at each other once more. Sierra couldn't help but ask, "You know us?"

"Stories travel fast, dear one," Satomi answered. "Especially the stories about you two. Your mother was a good friend of mine."

"I've heard she was a good friend to many," Sierra replied politely, returning her smile.

"Are we safe here?" a small voice interrupted their conversation. Scott and Sierra turned to see Lori, who couldn't have been out of middle school, holding onto her brother tightly with fear etched on her face.

Scott thought she was just referring to herself and Brett, but as he looked around the clinic, he quickly realized he had been mistaken.

Satomi's pack, the remaining seven, were there. Besides Satomi, Brett and Lori, a middle-aged couple were crouched on the floor. Two men, one bearded and white, the other muscular and African-American, stood in the corner.

All of them looking to Scott and Sierra for help, all of them looking afraid.

"We're going to need help," Scott whispered to Sierra, who nodded in agreement.

"Lots of help."

*^*^*^*^*

After a lot of discussion, Scott and Sierra agreed the best place to take them was Argent's old warehouse. Secluded on the edge of Beacon Hills, the building was far enough away before they could actually get them out of town. The duo spent the night at the clinic with Kira, helping the werewolves rest and heal. In the morning, they made sure the coast was clear before getting them to their cars to head towards the preserve.

"Scott," Sierra caught her best friend's attention as they stood in the parking lot. Her eyes were locked on her phone screen when he approached her.

"What's up?" he asked, noticing her concern. "Did Lydia get Meredith to talk?"

Sierra raised her head, questioning instead, "Did you know Stiles is in the hospital?"

"What do you mean he's in the hospital?" His eyes widened. "What happened?"

"I have no idea," Sierra replied honestly. "He told me last night that him and Lydia were both okay after Brunski."

Scott watched as Sierra pursed her lips, practically envisioning the gears in her brain turning.

"Go check on him."

Sierra whipped her head to look up at him. "What?"

"Go check on him," Scott repeated with a chuckle. "Come on, Sierra. I know you want to, and it's okay. Kira and I can handle things until you get back."

Sierra bounced her leg, at war with what to do. Glancing at Scott again, she asked nervously, "You really don't mind?"

Scott smiled at her. "Sierra, I promise you it's okay. And I know you've been wanting to talk to him."

Sierra squinted her eyes. "How did you--"

"Malia might've told me you guys talked about forgiving him," he revealed his source, tucking his hands into his jean pockets. Sierra shook her head, but a grin rested on her lips. "Come on, then," he motioned her towards his motorcycle. "We have to pass by your house anyways so I'll drop you off to grab the Jeep and then meet up with Kira and the others."

Not finding any other way to express her gratitude, Sierra wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. Scott laughed but hugged her back. "I love you, Scotty," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Ew, save the mushy stuff for Stiles," he teased her as they broke apart, Sierra dropping her jaw in surprise. "Oh, you know I'm kidding. And I love you too. But let's go; the time we're wasting here could be you and Stiles making up."

"Sometimes I'm concerned on how much you're invested in my relationship," Sierra expressed as they headed to his bike.

"You guys are my OTP, Sierra," Scott playfully scoffed. "I have to be invested, otherwise Lydia will steal my spot as captain of your ship."

"Like I said, Scott. I'm concerned."

*^*^*^*^*

Lydia hadn't gotten any sleep.

She refused to go home until Meredith spoke, but exhaustion ate away at her the longer she stayed. When morning came, she was still sitting on the bench outside Noah's office. His jacket that he had offered her hours ago covered her like a blanket and her eyes popped open at the sound of the door opening.

When Noah saw her still there, he sighed. "I thought I told you to go home," he said as he took a seat beside her.

Lydia blinked a few times, forcing herself to wake up more as she retorted, "And I thought I told you I wasn't going anywhere." Lydia glanced inside the office to see Meredith on the couch, just like she had been when they brought her in. "Did they get anything out of her?"

Noah had ended up calling a few psychologists, hoping to get Meredith to open up. But they girl never uttered a sound. "Should've gone with the medium," he commented, adjusting his sling. He was just as tired as Lydia, but neither of them could stop moving until Meredith gave them some answers.

They raised to their feet at the sight of Parrish walking over, him explaining they went through everything in Brunski's office. "So far, everything amounts to pretty much nothing," he said, disappointed himself. Parrish glanced at Lydia, recognizing her outfit from the day before. "Did you not go home yet?"

Lydia knew she looked like a wreck but responded, "Not until Meredith starts talking."

"Lydia, I promise she'll talk," Noah guaranteed and agreed with Parrish. Lydia needed to get some sleep. "When she does, you'll be the first person I call. Trust me on this. Everyone talks eventually."

"Then let me try," Lydia brought up the suggestion she had awhile ago.

"No," Noah instantly disagreed. "We already discussed this."

Lydia argued, "I've gotten through to her before! Just let me try, please. If she doesn't talk, I'll go home."

Noah looked at Parrish, who simply shrugged his shoulders. After all, Lydia had a point; she had gotten through to Meredith before. Letting out a sigh, Noah reluctantly stated, "Fine."

Within minutes, Lydia stood in front of Meredith. Noah and Parrish stayed in front of the desk, leaning against it while they watched the interaction. "I think I'm getting an idea of how all this happened," Lydia said first, pacing slowly in front of the couch.

Meredith stared up at her from the couch, not saying anything as Lydia went on. "You used Brunski right?" Lydia questioned. "You knew he'd killed people, and that he would do it again." She paused, glancing at the sheriff before making a decision to take a seat beside Meredith.

"He used my grandmother's code for the deadpool," Lydia looked straight into her eyes. "He put it online. He took the money from the Hale vault and then turned the bearer bonds into cash. He made the payments."

All Meredith did was blink.

Lydia continued. "Was it Brunski's idea to fake your death? Did he get nervous because you helped us with one of the cipher keys?"

"I wanted to help."

In surprise at Meredith speaking, Parrish and Noah exchanged glances. Lydia's face softened. "All you ever wanted to do was help," she told Meredith, who barely nodded her head in agreement. "Is that why you're here? I know you wouldn't want to be here if you didn't want to talk."

"I do," Meredith said quietly, but turned her head away from Lydia. "But only to one person."

"Who?"

"Peter." She uttered the name so under her breath, Lydia thought she misheard her.

Of course she didn't mean the man who went on a killing spree last year. But as Meredith raised her head, Lydia knew Meredith wasn't kidding.

"Peter Hale."

*^*^*^*^

Stiles couldn't sit still.

He didn't want to be in the hospital. He didn't want to be sitting on a bed in a room he couldn't afford, to wait for a CT scan he couldn't pay for.

Stiles tried assuring Melissa he was perfectly alright after the ambulance checked him over at Eichen, but the nurse knew better. Brunski literally slammed his knuckles into Stiles's head, leaving the boy with a concussion. And Melissa didn't want him driving anywhere until he was fully checked out.

His knee bounced impatiently, his fingers gripping the sides of the bed. Melissa had disappeared to find him a tape player, since he might've snuck Lorraine's tape out of the mental institution. He knew there was a clue hidden in the audio, but he needed a way to listen to it.

A soft knock at the door made him turn around, Melissa greeting him with a small smile. "Did you find a tape player?" he instantly asked her, but she shook her head.

"No." Melissa went on, "But I found someone looking for you."

Stiles cinched his eyebrows together, not understanding. Melissa opened the door wider, Stiles raising to his feet from seeing Sierra walk in. He honestly wasn't expecting her to come see him and his voice got caught in his throat. "Hey."

Sierra offered him a half-smile. "Hi."

Melissa took the opportunity to sneak out of the room, gently shutting the door behind her to give them some privacy.

Stiles didn't know what to say; he just kept staring at her with wide eyes.

Realizing she would have to start the conversation, Sierra took a breath and shoved her hands into her leather jacket that she had put on over her striped romper. "So, I distinctly remember you telling me you didn't get hurt at Eichen House."

Stiles gulped, stuttering, "Yeah, um, I didn't want...I didn't want you to worry."

"Stiles, I am always going to worry about you," Sierra revealed, making his heart jump. "That's why we update each other at all times, remember? For crying out loud, Brunski almost killed you and Lydia last night."

"I heard some guys working with Haigh almost killed you and the others," Stiles said what he knew and Sierra pursed her lips.

"You're right," she nodded, not hiding anything from him. "They tried to burn Scott, Malia, and Liam with gasoline."

"Everyone okay?" Stiles asked in concern.

"Basically. I think so, yeah."

Stiles recognized the hurt look in her eyes as she cast her gaze to the ground. "Are you okay?"

Sierra wasn't expecting the question and lifted her head. "Yeah...yeah, I'm fine," she brushed off his worry.

"You know I can tell when you're lying to me," he whispered, knowing she was upset and scared, even though she never said anything.

Sierra stayed quiet, not really knowing how to respond. Talking with Scott and Malia about forgiving Stiles seemed so easy at the time. But actually seeing him, standing in front of her made her feel betrayed all over again.

She didn't know if she could do it.

"I'm gonna..." she started, slowly heading for the door. "I'm gonna go."

Stiles sighed, realizing his mistake as she grabbed the door handle. "Wait, Sierra, don't leave. Please, I just wanna--"

"It's locked."

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows. "What's locked?"

"The door," Sierra clarified, pulling on it. "It's locked."

Stiles walked over to her, wondering, "Why would she lock the door?" Sierra stepped back, letting him try himself. Stiles jiggled the doorknob, twisting and pulling it to get the door to open. "Uh...hey, Melissa," he called out to the nurse on the other side. "Melissa!"

"I can break the lock," Sierra suggested, but Stiles quickly shot the idea down.

"I'd rather you not. We both kind of owe the hospital a lot so..."

"Why would she lock the door?" Sierra echoed Stiles's words as she walked further into the room.

Turning around, Stiles spoke up. "Maybe she didn't mean to."

"Melissa isn't the type of person to make mistakes,"  Sierra commented. "And you can't just accidentally lock a door."

"Okay," Stiles nodded, but went on to defend Melissa's actions. However, it was clear he wasn't talking about Melissa. "Well, maybe, she wasn't thinking, exactly. Or wasn't thinking it through. You know, people sometimes do things without thinking them through."

"Stiles, Melissa isn't dumb," Sierra crossed her arms over her chest. "She wouldn't just lock a door without a reason. That's stupid."

"Even smart people can do stupid things," Stiles indirectly tried to explain his reasoning behind lying to her about Malia. "You know, 'cause they think it's the right thing."

His voice slightly raised as he got upset, Sierra's face falling. "And, And I don't think we should hold it against her, you know...for the rest of her life! Especially because she's tried apologizing hundreds of times, through texts and voice mails."

Sierra stepped closer to him, and asked, "Is she gonna keep begging?"

"She might," Stiles whispered, matching her movement forward.

Stiles noticed Sierra's eyes watering, but didn't interrupt her as she spoke.

"Look, I'm going to tell you the truth," she stated seriously, him holding onto every word. "When I found out about Malia, I was more upset that you and Scott kept it from me rather than her being Peter's daughter. It just reminded me of the whole incident with Liam, and even back when Scott was first bitten after Peter trapped us at the school."

"I thought I could let it go," Sierra shared, and then shook her head. "But I couldn't. And yeah, I'm pissed that Peter is Malia's dad, but only because I know she deserves better than him. I asked for space because I had to come to terms with the fact that the man I hate is one of my best friend's dad."

Stiles whispered, afraid of her answer, "Do you hate me?"

Sierra raised her hand, pressing her palm gently against his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut at her touch and when he reopened them, she swore, "I don't even think that's possible."

"And thank God for that," he replied under his breath, and leaned forward. Finally closing the distance between them, she pressed her lips against his.

Stiles responded happily, kissing her with everything he had. Being with her felt natural, like pieces falling into place.

Sierra was more than his girlfriend, she was his best friend. He couldn't imagine his life without her, and didn't want to.

Sierra held onto him tightly , feeling the familiar electricity run through her veins. His arms wrapped around her torso, eliminating any space between them.

Stiles couldn't hide his smile after they broke apart for air, overjoyed she was back in his embrace.

"I'm so sorry I lied to you," he mumbled wholeheartedly, their foreheads still pressed together.

Sierra let out a breathy chuckle, her own smile widening, "You're forgiven." She raised back on her tiptoes to peck his lips once more. "I love you."

Stiles grinned, stealing his own kiss from her. "I know."

Sierra leaned back in amusement, looking at him with raised brows. "Did you just Han Solo me?"

"Eh, maybe," Stiles shrugged, smiling down at her. "But the fact that you understood my reference makes me love you even more." His eyes flickered down to her neck, noticing a familiar chain that made him kiss her again. "You didn't take it off?" he asked, his heart swelling in happiness.

"Of course I didn't," Sierra told him truthfully and lifted up the ring that rested against Stiles's heart with her fingers. "You didn't take yours off either?"

"I made a promise to you," he reminded her, covering her hand with his own. "And it's one I intend to keep."

Sierra smiled, but before she could reply, both of them heard a noise. Just as their heads turned, the door that had been locked opened. Stiles and Sierra exchanged glances, Sierra chuckling, "Well, I guess Melissa did have a reason for locking the door."

"Remind me to thank her later."