"Ay, mi amor, you came." Abuela Maria said, smiling softly at her granddaughter. Tomei was sitting in the chair beside her, one of Maria's hands in both of hers. "Help me sit up, Toma," Abuela said, using the nickname that only Maria used for her.

Tomei picked up the remote and adjusted the bed. She then dropped a kiss on Maria's forehead and left to give the two some privacy. On her way out, their eyes met and Tomei tried to give a smile of encouragement. It came out strained and pained and crumpled.

"Why now? Why? I'm not getting better."

"You have become leader." Abuela said. "I sleep but I still see." She gingerly raised a hand to her granddaughter's face, "I see how you handle the kanima attack. How you protect him."

At the mention of Stiles, she moved her grandmother's hand and shook her head. "He's not..." She stopped and took a breath. "I know what it means, the name on my arm. It's not him. I wish it was, ma, but it's not. I haven't found him yet and you can't go until I have. I can't become... it until I find them."

"Trust is a beautiful thing." Her grandmother randomly said. "Treasure it."

"No, no, no, NO!" Violeta said, standing up and getting properly angry. "Don't do that. Don't start imparting that ambiguous bullshit on me!"

"Violeta."

"No! You promised you wouldn't leave until I felt ready, until I felt safe, until I was anchored enough that I would be okay." She spat. "Anchored. That's your word. Anclado." She said the Spanish word for it. "You said that. Well now you want to leave and I'm not — I don't feel — anclado! I'm a mess and I don't know what I'm doing. I-I-I don't know anything!"

"No one know everything."

"Oh for f—" Violeta kicked one of the chairs and sent it spinning and hitting the wall. Abuela waved a hand and the chair turned into an array of butterflies that fluttered out the window. All but one. One came fluttered its way to Violeta and landed on her shoulder. It was a light purple one, a violet one.

Violeta felt her anger wash away at the little innocent creature perched itself on her. She picked up her fingers and the butterfly not rested alongside her forefinger. She watched it's wings flutter and she looked at her grandma. "See, I wouldn't know how to do that."

"Simple shape shift spell." Her grandmother fairly dismissed. "Even witches know how to do."

"Why do you have to die?" Violeta finally asked the question. "Why do you have to go? I know you're in perfect health. I know that it's not physical but because grandpa passed away that..." She couldn't finish, shaking her head and trying to keep her tears at bay but they welled up.

The butterfly hopped onto her grandma's raised hand. As she looked it over, she spoke with a fond smile, "I want this." Her grandma said. "I am happy the Earth think my time is finished and the Angels took your grandfather so I soon follow."

"Are you tired?"

"No, I am lonely."

Violeta frowned and felt upset. She had visited her grandmother every single day and lost so much sleep so she could make the most of the time she had left. This included making time for the many families that wanted to have one last meeting with Abuela Maria before she passed. So many people wanted to see her that her room was only empty upon her request.

So yes, Violeta was upset.

"Your grandfather loved to watch telenovelas." Abuela spoke. "I believe they stupid for love do not work that way. The girl stupid because life is not boy, life is your life and not about stupid boy."

Violeta came and sat down beside her grandma once more. She continued speaking. "But your grandfather, he tell me this, he tell me, yes, life is not boy but life is love... we live to love. We are lucky because life tell us who we love and we know exactly who our life is because we know exactly who our love is."

"You don't want to live without him." Violeta concluded.

"I love him." Her grandmother said simply. "Lo amo, le amo." Her grandma repeated, using both pronouns.

It was something her and grandpa did because they spoke different dialects of Spanish. Abuela said lo amo, le amo because, that way, there was no discrepancy in their language when she said I love him.

-

Stiles stared at the vending machine. His eyes read the no pushing or pulling sign they had put up and laughed once. He sighed and came to sit down in the highly uncomfortable arm chairs they had in the small waiting room they had. He sat in the chair closest to Room 302, the room which currently contained Violeta Rodriguez and her grandmother.

"You're Stiles, yeah?" The boy in question looked up at the mention of his name to see a short, petite woman, around her mid to late twenties, standing with two styrofoam cups in her hands.

"Uh, yeah." The boy answered.

"I'm Tomei, Vi's aunt and guardian." She sat down in the chair directly opposite him and handed him a cup. He was about to decline, thinking it was coffee and knowing if he had a cup, there would be no sleep for the next three days for him. Instead, he smelt chocolate and accepted it with a polite thank you.

"You know Alex Turner."

Tomei's head fell back as she laughed once with a 'Ha.' Stiles saw the tired smile on her face. "I'm gonna assume Violeta told you." He nodded. "And she'd only tell you if you were a big fan... and because you're Stiles."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that the first time I met Violeta was the day before her parent's funerals. I'm her father's adopted sister and only actually met her that day." Tomei said. "And, like, imagine that. I'm meeting a ten year old whose parents just died and you gotta tell them that hey, I'm going to be your new guardian now!"

For a lack of knowing what to say, Stiles took a sip of the burning hot, two dollar hospital hot chocolate.

"So, naturally, the first thing I say to her is a Spider Man joke." Tomei took a sip of her own cup and frowned. Then she continued, "Which, surprisingly, was actually how she opened up to me. She stared at me but I remember so clearly that the left corner of her mouth turned up. Her hair had been in her face and I asked if she wanted me to braid it. I dunno why I asked that but she actually turned around and I did a really shitty plait but she still said a small danke schoen." It was the first time she'd spoken in about, oh, two months since her parents had died.

"Danke schoen." Stiles repeated. "That's German for thank you very much." He said.

"Yeah!" Tomei said, her face lighting up, "Do you speak German? Ich—"

"Oh, uh no." Stiles quickly cut in before he would embarrass himself. "I know this song. It's from this movie called Ferr—

"—is Bueller's Day Off." Tomei said, taking a sip from her cup. It reminded Stiles of the drink in his own and he took a sip of his own. "I hope you know what that movie means to her."

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked.

"Well think about it, the first words she said after her parents died was literally a quote from the movie." Tomei said, "She literally started learning French just to say pardon my french and Ferris... Ferris is her idol. Everything works out for him, he does as he pleases and it only turns out positively, he is witty, good-looking and loved by everyone but knows to only give proper, genuine love to the select few."

"Oh, wow." Stiles said. "I, uh didn't realise." He looked down at his cup and thought about how he had called her Ferris. How she had looked at him when he said that. How she such happiness in her eyes. As if he had said the most wonderful thing possible to her. As if it was this highest compliment he could've ever bestowed upon her.

"I know Vi's is a bit rough around the edges but even I don't know how she deals with everything." Tomei said. "She'd suffered more in her few years than twenty fully grown old men." Stiles took a sip, not sure what to say. "What I'm trying to say, is that you mean a lot to her. She, um, she has a lot people around her but she never talks about anyone like she talks about you. She trusts you. Which is probably why she told you that I know AT. I mean, hell, I wouldn't be surprised if she told you what I used to do."

"What do you mean?"

Tomei's lips fell into a small line. "Um, uh. It doesn't matter. Look, why I'm glad you're here is because I need to talk to you. To tell you that when... it happens... she's gonna wanna push everyone away. She's gonna push me away and she's gonna push you away. But I know that you're the only one who, if they fight through, she'll let them in."

Stiles could only stare, stunned into silence.

"I know it's a big ask and you don't know me and I'm just an awkward aunt giving you shitty hot chocolate," she let out a short, nervous laugh, "but if you care for Vi... you'll be there for her because I honest to God think you're the only one who can."

"I, uh," he cleared his throat, "I will." Tomei smiled at that and adjusted her glasses. She took another sip of hot chocolate when the door opened and out came Violeta. Her eyes were red and rubbed clear of the tears that had undoubtedly fallen.

Stiles hadn't prepared for Violeta to walk out at that moment and suddenly the hot chocolate cup he was about to drink from fell from his grip and the hot liquid splashed all down his front. "Ow, ow, ow! That's hot! Dear God that's hot!" He fanned himself and breathed down. He then felt something cool and looked down to see water moving by itself in mid-air, coming to cool the red patches of skin. He looked and saw the water manipulated in the air from the dispenser in the corner of the room. He looked and saw Violeta's hand moving. He stared at her, slowing all of his movements as she took care of it.

"Well," Tomei said, "I guess I didn't have to watch what I said about her being what she is."

"He doesn't know the actual word." Violeta said. It was true. Stiles didn't know the exact word of what she was. All his research and what he had seen had pointed to her being something of a mix between Wonder Woman and Doctor Strange.

"Is there an actual word?" Tomei asked. "Deity? Supreme Elementalist? Take your pick. You can even just say stuff if and call yourself a boss ass diggity and be done with it."

Stiles stared at Violeta, the words her aunt had just said triggered several articles he had read during intensive research when Scott first shifted. Deities were considered sacred or god-like, elementals could control the elements. He stared at Violeta with new eyes.

Tomei paused and thought about something. "Although I wouldn't try to shorten anything. Like 'Supreme Elementalist' into 'supremist' doesn't give off good vibes." She huffed. "Anyway, I think this awkward silence and how you two are staring at each other is my cue. I'm going to go back to Maria."

She left and Violeta came to where he was standing.The water, having done it's job, landed on the floor in a wet puddle. She sat down in the chair her aunt Tomei had just been sitting in and crossed her legs.

"What are you doing here?"

"I thought you could use a friend." He said, thinking back to what Tomei had said.

"Scott?" She asked.

"He's handling it." Stiles dismissed. "So... you're like the love child of Wonder Woman and Doctor Strange?" He asked, hoping to leave some of the depressing mood from her. She smiled a weak smile, but he felt that it was more for his sake than hers.

"Something like that." She said.

"Oh..." Stiles said, pausing and thinking about it, "... But you still can't read minds?"

This returned the weak smile on her face. "No, I still can't read minds."

"Hey guys," Violeta and Stiles both turned to where Tomei had her head stuck out the door of abuela's room. "Maria's asking for you."

Violeta stood up and Stiles prepared to get comfortable once more when Tomei said, "Uh, no. The both of you." Stiles looked over at Violeta who stopped but didn't say anything or even look at him. Stiles took a steading breath, looking down at his wet shirt. For a moment, it dawned on him that he was meeting Violeta Rodriguez' grandma in nothing but a wet t-shirt while Violeta was wearing a cocktail dress and his hoodie.

"Do you think I should get changed or something?" Stiles quickly asked Tomei who rolled her eyes and pushed the awkward teen into the room.

There, he paused when he saw that no lights were turned on. That wasn't to say it was dark. In fact, that entire room shone with the many candles that were burning bright. He looked at the bed and gulped, being very familiar with the scene before. He took in the old lady laying there, the genuine and warm smile on her face that only the nice old people could have.

"Stiles." She said, her smile growing as she said his name. "My name is Maria."

"It's, uh, lovely to meet you."

"Come, sit." She gestured to the plastic chair beside her. Stiles did so. He looked around, his eyes resting on Violeta who was staring down at something on her arm. When his eyes moved to look at the elderly Spanish lady and he found that she was already looking at him, he felt out of his depth.

He suddenly wanted to run out of the room and never turn back. He didn't belong here. This wasn't... he was a foreigner intruding on such a private moment. But what's more, seeing a tired woman smile at him from a hospital bed brings up so much.

"I knew your mother, Claudia." Maria spoke.

Stiles' eye began to shone, "Are you sure you can't read minds?" He tried at a really bad joke that wasn't funny to anyone and no one wanted to laugh. Still, Maria smiled at him.

"I know you see me like this bring bad memories," she said, "I apologise but I want to see boy that make my Violeta so happy." She turned to Violeta when she said this and put a hand on her cheek. Violeta grabbed it and pressed a kiss to her hands.

"H-How—How'd you know my mother?" Stiles had to ask, unable to think on anything else at the moment; even if it was finding out he was the one who Vio's grandma attributed to her happiness.

"I used to be midwife." Maria said. "I deliver you." Stiles felt himself take in a deep breath. He looked at Violeta but her reaction told him that even she did not know that. "I was there when she name you." Maria smiled.

"You couldn't have saved her?" Stiles asked. "With your powers? You couldn't save her? You could've have saved her?"

"We live to serve Fate, not against it." Stiles huffed, not satisfied with that answer. "Ah yes, you like Violeta, not happy with my 'wise words' she say. Say I'm too unclear."

"You are unclear." Violeta huffed.

"I make sense." Maria retorted to her granddaughter's comment, apparently offended. For a split second, Stiles made the connection of Luke and Yoda in Empire Strikes Back but dismissed it, knowing a Star Wars reference in a time like this would be highly inappropriate.

"Green man make no sense. People still like green man." Maria said. Stiles did a double take and Violeta rolled her eyes. Then she smiled at Stiles and explained that her grandma was a very big Star Wars fan after her husband, her grandfather, had dragged her to the premiere of the very first one in '77. Then, after telling him that little side story, her voice became strained and she cut off, avoiding looking at him anymore.

"My husband was funny man. He used to love telenovelas." For whatever reason, Maria's words had Violeta abruptly standing up and brusquely walking over to the window where she stood, arms crossed and watching the night sky. Maria then told him about how cheesy these telenovelas were. That they so cliché with rain and I love you after know boy for two days! and girls always have nice hair when girls not always have nice!

"But I see now that telenovelas show that life is love. We live to love. Without love, there is no life, we only exist."

At this, Violeta stormed out of the room. Stiles watched her go and knew he had to go after her. He looked back at Maria who nodded, apparently understanding exactly how he was feeling. He stood up and turned but before he did, Maria grabbed his arm. "Take care of her for me, please." When he made it to the door, Maria called out for him once more.

"Your mama would be very proud of you."

Stiles felt his eyes well up and quickly ducked out before this old lady could see him cry. He wiped his eyes and took a very shaky breaths, trying to calm down. He needed to, he had to help Violeta, he had to be there for her.

He thought looked back at the closed door, the golden 302 emblazoned on the door. An idea was slowly forming from what Maria had told him. He had a plan.

-

He found Violeta sitting on the floor, directly in front of the vending machine. He fidgeted with the piece of paper in his hand and took a step forward.

"No pushing or pulling." Violeta read out the sign he'd laughed at, what felt like hours ago. "You can leave now. I'm sure Scott needs your help with Jackson."

"I told him I wouldn't see him until maybe tomorrow. If that." Stiles said. "I'm staying."

"Why?" Violeta asked, finally turning on him. "Why are you staying? Matter of fact, why are you here?" Stiles kept his composure, preparing himself for what everyone had told him about... everyone telling him to be there for her because he was apparently, for some reason, the only person who could.

"That night you came to my house because Bernie Mac needed to ask my dad something, I wanted you to crash at my place, or at the very least to let me drive you home... but I knew you wouldn't because you're you and you like to keep worlds seperate. The supernatural, your home, the gangs, your grandma... and today, I've been with you through every one of them."

Stiles came and sat down on the space next to her. He took a deep breath, "Bernie told you to make mistakes and you said one of them was trusting me. You're scared that I might get hurt but that's okay. I get hurt because of Scott the same way this one guy threatened my dad by mentioning my name. I'm not gonna escape it and that's fine because you three... you three mean a lot to me. But I know that you're different because you don't trust easily. So I wanna show you that I... that I trust you with the one thing that not many know and is the one thing that, I, uh, I guess I've got to show my trust."

"What are you talking about?" Violeta finally asked.

He leaned his hand back and moved it to face her. With a sigh, he finally admitted. "My name isn't Stiles." She didn't ask so he passed her the piece of paper that was the photocopy of his birth certificate. "Stiles is a nickname because it's so long." He explained when he knew her eyes found it.

"That's your name?" She asked. "Mieczyslaw."

"Yeah. What? Why? What's wrong?"