3rd Person POV

Deucalion's pack was closing in. Based on Nate's predictions, they'll be here in about a week's time. Needless to say, neither pack is prepared.

Stiles is having a hard time explaining his only hope at surviving and the possible consequences. He didn't want to leave his pack without a leader because that would really suck at the both of them. He also didn't want any more power coursing through his veins, and Maddie would probably want to kill him for even thinking about this. Stiles knew that he was dying, and this was his only hope. He just didn't know how to ask Scott.

He also considered asking Derek, but then he overheard Scott and Isaac talking about how Derek lost his alpha powers saving Cora. Interesting how she isn't around right now. But what bothered Stiles more is that he didn't sense the change in roles. This seemingly small detail was actually a big deal for him because that just further proved the situation of him losing his powers.

Stiles wasn't aware, but Scott was worried about his best friend. Yes, he still referred to Stiles as his best friend. In between all of the drama, they have actually been catching up. The only downside was that the remainder of The S Pack seemed to hate the Hale-McCall pack with a passion, and no one seemed to know why.

Maddie was especially cautious of of Malia and Lydia, feeling as if her relationship with Stiles was threatened. And Stiles didn't want to admit it, but seeing Lydia again made Maddie's fears true, even if she wasn't aware of it yet. He didn't want to hurt one of his best friends, but their relationship wasn't meant to last.

Connor became interested in Braeden, a girl that was with Derek for a short period of time before what they had, like the rest of Derek's relationships, failed miserably. She tries to hide her returned feelings under her stone cold exterior, but Stiles knows. He has that feeling, and it makes him smile.

It's no surprise that Emily and Nate are getting closer by the day. Everyone knew that was going to happen sooner or later.

Scott and Kira are somehow holding on, but secretly? No one ships them.

So right now is one of those in between times where the pack meeting is over, and Scott and Stiles are goofing off in the playground at their old elementary school. They pretend that neither of them are supernatural, and everything was back to normal.

Finally, they both grew tired and sat on the swings, lightly swinging themselves. They talk about everything.

"So, uh, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but what's wrong with you?" Scott finally asks, being able to see Stiles as he was with his guard down. It was horrible. The bigs under his eyes were so dark it reminded him of the dark time with the Nogitsune. His already skinny frame was now skeletal, and it hurt Scott's heart to hear Stiles' breaths come out in short and shallow pants. His grip on the chains were so tight they turned his knuckles white, as if that was what was holding him up.

Stiles pulled his shoulders up in a half-hearted shrug before slowly and painfully replying. "There isn't a name for it, but I'm dying. I'm going to slowly get weaker until my heart rate gets too slow for my body to keep going, and everything gives up. It's a combination of several human diseases and a few curses that counteracted each other on the exhibition my pack went on a few weeks ago. It all came so suddenly that my body couldn't even being to fight all of them, so it didn't even try." His response was almost perfectly scripted, as if Deaton had told him to say exactly that.

"Is that what Deaton said?" Scott asks, kicking the toe of his shoe into the mulch under our feet.

He shakes his head, keeping his gaze on the line of trees on the other side of the field that we're facing. "I figured all of this out a few days ago, and I went to Deaton with my theories. He just agreed with everything that I concluded."

Scott stays silent for a moment, thinking all of this information through. "So, is there any way to cure it?" He was willing to do anything to save his best friend.

Stiles' grip on the chains tighter and he nods slowly. "There's a favor I've been meaning to ask you, and I need you to keep an open mind about it because it's kind of my last hope of living," he chuckles dryly.

Without missing a beat, Scott says, "I'll do anything to save you Stiles. You know that." Inside though, his heart was pounding. What could he do that his pack couldn't? His pack was by far more powerful than his, as frustrating as it was to say.

Stiles takes a little bit longer to respond, and when he does, Scott falls off of his swing. "I need the bite." He switches his gaze to the ground where Scott is struggling getting his feet untangled from the swing. "You know, that's the same swing I pushed you off of when you told me you'd never watched Star Wars for the first time."

Scott quickly gets himself situated and back in the seat of the swing. "Don't try to change this subject Stiles. I thought you didn't want the bite," he speaks loudly, almost seeming angry. But he was just shocked, and Stiles was aware of this.

"Scott, shut up and let me explain, geez." Stiles twists his swing to face Scott, and Scott does the same. "So there's three possibilities for what could happen after." He ticks his fingers as he lists them. "I get super powerful, I become human again, or I die. Simple. But remember: I'm dying anyway, so it's not a bad idea," Stiles explains as if it's nothing. In reality, he just became desensitized to the idea of death after all of his near-death experiences.

Scott doesn't seem as okay with what he's saying. "I thought you didn't want the bite," Scott argues slowly, trying to give his brain time to process the newfound information.

Stiles sighs in annoyance. "And I thought you were grounded," he retorts while rolling his eyes. Then the smirk on his face disappears, and he continues. "I don't really have a choice at this point. I just got you back, just like Lydia and Malia, and I got to get closer with the angry time bomb you chose as your beta. It's either this," he gestures to his bare pale arm, "or guaranteed death. And I don't know about you, but dying like this when I've survived so many other things sounds kind of ridiculous. I mean, I expect my death to have at least three explosions, a car chase, and I kill Jackson," he rambles, and Scott unintentionally lets out a small laugh. Poor Jack-ass.

"Okay," he agrees.

Then it was Stiles' turn to fall out of the swing, but his wasn't from shock. He lost consciousness.

Scott jumped to his feet and picked Stiles up in his arms. It actually bothered him how easy it was; he barely had to use his werewolf strength. He ran over to his mom's beat up car and threw open the door before lying Stiles across the backseat and blasting the heat on his cold body.

Scott quickly starts the car and begins speeding to Derek's loft, where they were set to have a pack meeting in less than an hour. "Hold on buddy, we'll get this figured out. Just stay with me, Stiles."