3rd Person POV

To say that Stiles was nervous would be the understatement of the century, maybe even millenium. His palms were sweating to the point where his jeans were too slick to absorb any more perspiration. The feeling of butterflies in his stomach was more of a feeling of elephants with magical fairy wings rampaging in his gut. His headache was more of a migraine, like his brain was swelling to the point of pushing against his skull, before shrinking to its normal size, and then the process repeats itself. The grace that Stiles had worked so hard to perfect over the past six months was gone, like it was never there to begin with. It was almost like it actually had a reverse effect, and Stiles was more clumsy now than ever, if that was even possible. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that is was actually causing pain in his ribcage. It felt like the bones protecting his organs were going to shatter into a million pieces at any given moment. And on top of that, his wrist was aching. Well, more like throbbing, and he didn't want to ask Maddie to heal him.

She never had to do it before, and he didn't want to give in to the weakness. Besides, he's broken his wrist before after falling out of a tree Scott dared him to climb. Well, maybe Scott told him not to climb it, and Stiles demanded that he stop telling him how to live his life. But Stiles would never admit to that. So a little sprain shouldn't hurt that bad, even if he had forgotten to ice it and flex it around recently.

Stiles took a deep breath before looking up at the looming building, titled with the big boxy letters of BEACON HILLS FIRST NATIONAL BANK. The symbol on the double glass doors sent chills down his spine and bad memories to his already pounding mind. It was dark and silent, a little too silent to be holding a relative of Stiles'. The broken windows and restored chains on the doors made human residents as Beacon Hills mindlessly tread past it, no one curious enough to break into the seemingly abandoned building. But Stiles knew better. He knew that one of the most powerful packs to ever exist was on the other side of that door. He also knew that that pack was holding his father hostage.

With that thought, he took the key from his pocket that would unlock the chains like a normal human being, one without supernatural powers, would do. It was enclosed in the letter from Deucalion.

Once inside, Stiles drops the chains to the glass flooring with a loud clang. Silence is the only thing to retaliate to Stiles' intentional loud movements. Sure, he was a bit suspicious, but he wasn't surprised. This is what Deucalion does: try to make you believe there isn't a threat, and then attack you when you're off guard. Too bad Stiles already knows this tactic, so it won't work.

"Hello? Deucalion? Any of his little pets? Anyone home? Don't tell me he has all of you on leashes. Deuc has always been kind of a control freak amirite? But I don't know. I didn't think he would be that much of a control freak to keep you guys on little runners. Let me guess: he gave you a bone, too? How'd I guess?" Stiles allows a small smile to grace his lips at the small growls he got for his big mouth.

Red eyes appear in dark corners, and Stiles finally stops in front of a familiar vault. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

"Stiles Stilinski. I didn't think you'd actually comply to my request," a voice teases in a mocking tone from behind him, and Stiles tries his best not to tense up at the annoying voice.

Deep down, Stiles knew that he wasn't scared for himself. Not one bit. But his dad? That was a completely other story. He never wanted to drag his father into this supernatural mess in the first place, but he knew that that itself would be inevitable in the end. But he never wanted him to be this involved. Stiles never wanted his father to be used against him in the supernatural world, a world that the sheriff should never be a part of. "Hey Deuc? Is it alright if I call you Deuc? Deucalion is really long, and it kind of reminds me of a lizard, and thinking of a lizard and a werewolf at the same time?" Stiles shudders and spares the alpha a grin. "Anyway, you say it like I actually had a choice. You took my father, and he's here being held hostage. Let him go, and we won't have to meet under these circumstances ever again. I can even invite you to my birthday party!"

Deucalion rolls his eyes and has a facial expression that is far past murderous. If looks could kill, Stiles would have disintegrated on the spot. Not a pleasant thought, actually. "You know what I want in exchange for you father, Stiles. It's really not that difficult," the dramatic alpha says with a smirk.

"Well," Stiles drags on in an almost guilty tone. He too his a smirk placed carefully on his lips. "You see, there's a small problem with that..."

The red eyes across from Stiles narrow. "What do you mean?" The man hisses in a threatening way.

And he wonders why I think of a lizard. Stiles thinks to himself with a roll of his eyes. "I mean, it's no biggie or anything, but I kind of don't really have my powers anymore. Like at all." His voice got annoyingly high by the end of his response, almost like he was asking his a question instead of telling him how it is. In a flash, Stiles' arms are pinned behind him, and Stiles being human once again, there wasn't any way of getting out of this one like he was used to. "Hey, hey! Watch where your pets are getting all touchy feely there! I actually have a girlfriend, and she'll beat all of your asses with a hand tied behind her back!"

Deucalion chooses to ignore the boy's threats and stay on the primary of topics he disclosed. "How could you not have your powers anymore? Why didn't your heart rate change?" The man was beyond furious because he couldn't even sense the aura of power around the skinny boy being held against his will.

"I mean what I said, wolf man," Stiles retorts, and the pack started getting restless. They didn't appreciate the disrespect this newcomer was giving their alpha.

The elder man just sighs as his lips curl back into an evil smile that would just about scare anyone else. "Well, I don't really see the point in having a human boy around," he says simply, and Stiles just raises his eyebrows in a very Derek-like fashion.

---

From outside, Lydia was stationed beside Derek, and she began to feel this feeling in her gut. Frantically, she searched around to meet Nate's eyes, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Sensing her change in pulse, Derek turns to Lydia in alarm. "What's wrong?" He demands, and Lydia's entire body begins to tremble.

"Stiles is going to die."

---

Stiles raises his eyebrows almost seeming amused, but he knows that his heart rate isn't very controlled very more. And by the expression on Deucalion's face, he's well aware of this fact as well. "Oh come on, old man. You have to admit, I'm kind of funny. Well, if you find sarcasm funny. If not, then I'm probably annoying, but I'm going to go with you find me funny considering my throat is still in tact. But, I mean, what do I know? What do you say Deuc? Am I at least a little funny? If it means anything, your sense of humor could use some assistance," he rambles. The tight grip on his body was starting to get uncomfortable, and so he tried wriggling around. Nothing happened in his favor. The strong hold somehow got tighter, and Stiles impulsively lets out a hiss.

Oh no. Is Deuc rubbing off on me? I don't wanna be lizard!

Deucalion turned around, the amused smirk gone, replaced with one of pure malice. He watched as Stiles' father gets dragged out of the vault and tied to a chair.

"Dad, I'm going to get you out of here, alright?" Stiles rushes, filled with joy at the sight of his father being alive and without harm done. Well, except for the few premature scratches, but they would heal within a few days' time.

The sheriff smiles weakly at his son. "I believe in you, Stiles." They share a smiles before Deucalion grins as well, but with a merciless look still gleaming in his eyes.

"How touching, really. Father and son finally reunited." Then the mocking smile disappears as claws appear and dig themselves into Stiles chest in a long swipe. The sheriff lets out a sign of pure agony, while Stiles barely makes a sound.

At the same time, the doors of the bank crash open, "Stiles, NO!" Stiles was pretty sure if was Scott's voice, but everything sounds murky, like he was underwater, and his ears had already popped. He couldn't even identify words anymore; it was a bunch of muddles noises in different octaves. His vision was blurry, and he was unceremoniously dropped to the ground. It was interesting, though. Stiles didn't feel any pain.

He heard numerous thuds of heavy footsteps and the sound of merciless fighting before everything slowly turned black, and the sounds faded into silence.

---

The two packs were immediately at the doors of the bank and rushing inside. Scott, being in the front, was only there to see Deucalion's claws contract and leave three deep wounds across the entirety of Stiles chest.

"Stiles, NO!" Scott voiced, and all on Stiles' side charged to try and save him. Then, coming from all angles, all types of supernatural creatures came charging at them, and no one was able to make a clear path to Stiles.

They fought fiercely, with more aggression than they had ever displayed before. But the pack was too strong to just easily destroy, especially in everyone's current emotional state. Then, Lydia's piercing scream stilled everyone's movements as Deucalion, who stood beside Stiles' fallen body, let out a triumphant laugh.

An arrow pierced the air and took its place in the psychotic alpha's heart, before the rest of Deucalion's pack ran. They didn't stop running until they were long out of sight, but The S Pack and the Hale-McCall pack were too traumatized to watch them, or even chase them to avenge their fallen friend. They did however, try and find the culprit of the shot arrow, but the bank was empty with the exception of the two packs.

Lydia felt like she knew who it was, but she didn't want to cause any more panic than what was already occurring. She knew this was going to happen; Allison was back. Chris was on a trip in Mexico with the Calaveras.

"There is no way he's actually dead. Stiles, no please! You can't leave me. You can't leave me without you or your mother," Noah Stilinski begins to sob as he pulls Stiles' lifeless body close to him. He continues to mumble incoherent things into the ears of a boy they knew would never hear again.

Maddie collapses to her knees beside him, repeatedly mumbling, "No, no no, that's not possible."

Scott was numb. He knew the pain was coming, but as of right now, he didn't know what to do. He wanted to be by his brother's side, but his feet seemed glued to that specific spot on the paper-littered floor.

Even Theo was staring at the slender boy in front of him with wide eyes that may have a feeling brokenness in them. His mouth dropped open as his knees buckled. Sure, they may bicker on a daily basis, but with comes a sense of caring for the other, and that was ripped away from Theo before he was able to recognize it.

Everyone was staring at the pain, unable to move, or feel, or react in any way. Everything was blank. No one knew what they were supposed to do. This was different than when Stiles left for months with The S Pack because they knew that he could take care of himself, and he was alive. This was different.

Stiles Stilinski is dead.