Pure × Isaac Lahey

67.

Lydia sighed, "We are so out of our league."

"Why aren't we just going to Stilinski for help?" Isaac questioned, leaning palms-forward on the table.

"Because if he gets caught," said Scott, "then it's the Sheriff tampering with federal evidence."

"Okay," Aiden countered, "so why don't we have a certain witch helping us that could just teleport in and out of the truck and get the finger?"

"I'm not leaving Stiles here alone," defended Elora. "The plan's going to work. You guys can do this."

"Come on, guys," Allison said. "We're losing Stiles. My dad's in jail for murder. We need to do this."

"Gooo team."

x x

Elora stepped out of her office, looking as if she was ready to leave for the night with her briefcase in hand and keys dangling from the other.

"Evening, Ms. Danielson," a nurse said as Elora passed, receiving a warm goodnight from the witch.

El made a turn for the lobby, getting just out of sight before silencing her steps and cloaking herself from the non-supernatural world around. She let go of her briefcase, the leather bag vanishing before it could hit the ground.

The day room of the institution was dimly lit, only moonlight pooling in on the empty space from the windows.

El stepped out from the corner, steps silent as she made her way to the residential levels. Without touching the stairs, El made it to the third floor and shed her cloaking.

Dark hallways greeted Elora as her feet hit the floor, the brunette glancing down both hallways before jogging to the room Stiles and Oliver shared.

Elora put a palm over the door's lock, a successful click allowing her to pull the giant panel open.

Stiles hastily looked up, eyes drooping as he sat on the edge of his bed.

Elora glanced to a sleeping Oliver before motioning for Stiles, carefully shutting the door once retrieving the teen.

"God, he snores," Stiles mumbled.

"My parents always snored so bad I would have to get up in the middle of the night to silence their room," said El with half a grin before taking Stiles' shoulder.

Stiles gagged slightly, nearly falling over as the ground shifted to a different texture in a blink of an eye.

El covered his mouth, keeping him quiet as they stood outside of the basement door. "Don't you dare throw up," she whispered.

Humming against the desire to, Stiles finally nodded.

Elora let go, instead reaching out to unlock the door that not even Brunski had a key to. "Ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," he quietly said in reply as El pulled the basement door open.

"Bombs away," she halfly replied as she ushered him in first, glancing over her shoulder to check for any orderlies.

Stiles took a deep breath before descending the industrial staircase. Goosebumps littered his skin as an overwhelming sense of familiarity greeted him the moment he reached the bottom of the steps.

"Does this feel right?" El asked, cautiously closing the door behind herself.

"That's not the right word, but this is the place, for sure." Stiles looked around mildly, arms still covered in bumps.