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Coach's whistle sounded in the boys' locker room, the man behind it never not agitated. "Listen up! If anybody catches the slightest glimpse of Stilinski, you contact the first available teacher. Got it?" Bobby glanced around when no one responded, raising his voice. "Got it?!"

"Yes coach," the room echoed back.

Finstock motioned behind himself, "There's a card on my desk for Isaac Lahey and every one of you losers is not only going to sign it, you're gonna write a personal message so heartfelt and deep," he held up a pen to his face, "it brings a tear to Coach's eye. Who's first?"

Danny stood first, receiving nothing but praise and a smack on the ass.

"Ah, Danny, that's how you do it, buddy!" Coach echoed before adding, "Keep it PG."

On the other side of the lockers, Scott stood with the twins as he toyed with his red duffle bag.

"No Stiles, no demonic ninjas," said Aiden.

"Things are getting too quiet," Ethan added, arms folded absently.

"Yeah, I know," Scott agreed. "It's making me nervous, too."

Just before Scott could say anything more, a familiar metallic pinging could be heard.

"Do you guys hear that?" questioned Ethan, brows furrowing.

"It's an emitter. One of Argent's." Scott motioned over his shoulder, the three sneaking out of the locker room.

"It's coming from the basement," Ethan said, the sound persisting.

"Let's go," Scott very nearly ordered, heading off toward the student-restricted area they'd been to more than once.

Running down the stairs, they hit the divide where there were two paths, but the sound was only coming from one.

Stiles, adorned in clothes he hadn't left the hospital in, stood with his back turned to the werewolves, the emitter clutched in hand. His mild smirk fell, a composure close to the real Stiles' normalcy taking over as he turned around.

"Okay, I know what you guys are thinking," Stiles cautiously began, emitter still flaring, "but it's me. I swear to God, it's me."

Within a split second, the twins launched at Stiles, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him off the ground so violently the emitter tumbled to the floor.

"Wait, stop!" Scott yelled, pulling Ethan off and throwing him to the floor. "I said stop!" He tugged Aiden back, growling at the shifted beta to force him to stop.

Stiles, heart racing from adrenaline, kept back against the locker he'd been pinned to. "It's me, Scott. I swear it's me. I don't know where I've been the past two days, or what I've been doing, but it's me. I promise."

Ethan had pulled himself up from the floor, bitter beyond belief. "You know what happened at the hospital?"

"I know more than that," said Stiles, crouching down and pulling a folded blue paper from the bag he'd brought. "You see this?" He unfurled it, "It's a blueprint of the hospital's electrical wiring. You see all these markings in red? That's my handwriting. I know I did this," he said as Scott crouched next to him. "I know I caused the accident."

Stiles folded up the blueprint, motioning to where it came from. "And everything in this bag, it's all stuff that could be part of something bigger."

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