3rd Person POV

Normally after an attack, you would like to say that things went back to normal. But this is Beacon Hills, so needless to say, nothing ever returns to this distorted image of normal. To people unaware of the supernatural, things seemed okay. Stiles had been discharged out of the hospital with perfect health conditions, but everyone aware of what he can do knows that that was all part of his act.

He seemed to be getting worse by the day. He's becoming weaker, and the energetic Stiles that everyone knew and loved seemed to vanish before their eyes, leaving a shell of what he used to be. At first they were concerned that it may be the Nogitsune again, but that theory flew out the window along with countless others Deaton and the Hale-McCall pack have been generating behind Stiles' back.

Stiles knew of these occurrences, but he decided to let them worry because he knew what was wrong with him. Well, he had the right idea of what was wrong with him, and he's pretty sure he knows how to fix it. But he can't do it alone.

Stiles was pretty sure he knew what was going on, and that's why he called Scott to help him. His former best friend is the only one that could help him at this point, and the thought of him relying on Scott actually kind of scared him. Over the past few months, Stiles has transformed into something no one thought possible, and now, he was dying.

He knew it, and he would be considered a lost cause in the human world. His heart rate was slowing at a minuscule rate, but Stiles knew what was happening. He was constantly tired from using his powers to seem okay to those around him, but the werewolves could see the magical aura surrounding him at all times. They could tell, from the way he seemed to drag his body around, as if his small frame all of the sudden weighed too much, and his infamous sarcastic comments were becoming less and less frequent.

The packs were trying to ignore the fact that their best friend was dying before their eyes. When he slept, his guard was let down, and everyone would gape at how bad he was actually getting. Stiles has a feeling that it started as a human disease, which he was still at risk for considering he was turned by magic that didn't in turn reward him with an otherworldly immune system. But he had a theory that something supernatural finally pushed him over the edge.

The man from the hospital had seemed familiar to all of those in The S Pack, but it was fuzzy, like they couldn't quite put their finger on it. But Stiles remembers. He remembers one of the worst fights to be involved in, the one with no good or bad side. And the leader of the pack on the other side was that man from the hospital.

It was funny. He never got to know his name, but the man knew everything there was to know about Stiles, except for how he became so powerful. Stiles remembers those few moments very clearly.

//Flashback//

Stiles' POV

It was coming close to the end: leader against leader. I had exhausted myself using all of my powers to protect my pack from anything that may come to them. I knew what I had to do, and the simple thought made me uneasy.

I had never been good with hand-to-hand combat, even back when I was a human flailing my arms around trying to smack the smug look off of Derek's face. There wasn't any difference now, except for the minor detail of me being the strongest and fastest being there is. However, that doesn't exactly mean that I know how to use my abilities. In my defense, I've always had those more powerful capabilities that I used instead.

If I had ever imagined that I'd be in this situation, I may have taken Scott's and Derek's advice a little more seriously back in the day. I try to rack my brain for anything that could help me at this point, but it was blank. It probably wasn't helping my case that I would mutter something sarcastic under my breath in response to what this man had to say.

"What do you say, eh? Just a little bit of physical combat? Your silly magic seems to be failing you, if I don't say so myself," the man smirks, and I don't even have to give a response. He got himself with that idiotic self-talk.

I roll my eyes. "Really? Is the eh really necessary after every three words? I mean, come on, there are so many words in the English language, and you choose to say something that isn't even a word! I don't know what school you went to, but I need to go thank my parents with a fruit basket for not sending me to that school," I ramble, trying to slow my heart, which just so happens to be on a rampage in my chest.

"Are you nervous, boy?" The man challenges while he completely ignores my entire speech.

What a jerk. "Bring it on," I reply, and I immediately think of that Disney movie Cars and I have to restrain myself from saying 'ka-chow'.

He charges, and it's like everything slows down. This would have been so much easier if I had this when Scott would tackle me to the ground for the television remote.

So we fight for a while, both of us getting our fair amount of hits in. I feel a prick in my neck, and I turn to see an empty syringe, and I glare. "Bitch." Then I lose control and win the fight, but I didn't have it in me to kill. He lay on the ground, probably wishing he was dead. There was blood everywhere, and he just kept coughing more up. Maybe his parents should have taught him to cover his mouth when he coughs.

Soon after, my pack rushes to me, and I repeat that I'm fine at least thirty times.

I grab Connor's wrist and whisper, "Remind me to get my dad a fruit basket."

He seems a little confused, but he nods as my head is placed in Emily's lap. Then everything gets a little fuzzy, and I yawn and give in to the exhaustion.

//Flashback Over//

Stiles didn't know what was in that substance at the time, but now he knows. Magic isn't something that's going to solve this.

He needs the bite, or he dies.