𝑀𝑂𝑅𝑇𝐴𝐿𝐴 - S.S.

{eight;}

They're less than an hour out from Beacon Hills when they stop for the night after endless days of tearing various creatures apart.

The motel is pay by the hour and the linoleum flooring is peeling off the ground in each corner of the room.

The lights flicker and the tv hums static, tacky wallpaper blisters and flakes off from yellow-stained walls.

Places like this don't bother him, they're better than the facility, than the basement, at least.

There's a certain comfort to creaky mattresses and cold showers that Mietek can't put his finger on.

Maybe he's just ever thankful to have a bed to sleep on, a shower to stand under, he's sure he shouldn't care about either, because such luxuries are meaningless. Inconsequential.

Erick sits on the faded red sheets of the twin bed opposite him and lectures him on all the creepy crawly things that go bump in the night in Beacon Hills.

There's an all-powerful tree stump they have to burn down, apparently, which should be a new one for him: the Nemeton— somewhere Druids meet, some sacred place or alter, or just a dumb tree. Though there's something familiar sounding about it, like it's a word he should of known, or did know some time ago.

Because he's been there before, hasn't he? The beacon in the centre of Beacon County, he's seen it before, maybe.

He doesn't remember it well, if he has, it doesn't feel like a memory, more like some foggy dream you've just woken up from, slipping between your fingers faster than you can grasp them.

He doesn't remember the last time he dreamed. Sleep should come easy, like flicking a switch, it always does.

Tonight it doesn't.

Instead, he lies awake. His eyes trained on the water-stained ceiling as he plays over in his mind how he gutted a werecoyote with his trusty trench knife this morning, and how her eyes were bright shining gold.

-

The McCall pack spend the week after their pack meeting planning, researching, training.

Mason and Lydia spend their time studying ways to counteract brainwashing, but they come up short and don't even know for sure that Stiles has been brainwashed at all.

They search for drugs that can alter DNA, steroids that can lead to a drastic increase in strength, superhuman strength, they find even less.

Liam and Kira are joined by Derek and Peter, who practice fighting techniques, and Chris, who trains them in basic combat and defence with knives and guns. Scott argues they won't need to fight every time he sees them, but not even he believes it.

Ethan and Jackson also join the effort, along with a reluctant Theo, and start sparring with Malia, who's worryingly good with her claws.

Noah and Scott spend their time building a cell in an empty loft on the top floor of Derek's building, just in case. They stock up on tranquillisers and sedatives and Noah keeps an extra set of handcuffs on his belt.

But they won't need them, because it's Stiles, and he'll listen to them when they talk to him.

The sense of dread, doom, demise, Lydia feels increases every day. The rest of the pack seem to feel it with her.

Mason joins the rest of the group in weapons training and gets pretty handy with a rifle.

Liam can't seem to hit a single target.

-

When Stiles was young he used to burn ants on the sidewalk with a magnifying glass and pull the wings off of struggling flies.