The bus stopped near a motel. Maggie and Caleb studied the building with a frown.
"It'll be okay," Stiles said, noticing their expressions.
"No. It won't."
Coach's booming voice caught their attention. "Listen up. The meet's been pushed till tomorrow. This is the closest motel with the most vacancies and least amount of good judgment when it comes to accepting a bunch of degenerates like yourselves. You'll be pairing up. Choose wisely. And I'll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you little deviants. Got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves!"
Lydia stared at the hotel with a blank expression. "Lydia?" Allison questioned.
She shook her head. "I don't like this place."
Maggie glanced at her. "I'm guessing the people who own this place don't like it either."
Allison shrugged. "It's only for a night."
Lydia met her eyes. "A lot can happen in one night."
Stiles, Caleb and Scott headed to their room while Lydia, Allison and Maggie headed to theirs.
They walked into their room and Maggie immediately recoiled at the strong scent of nicotine. She sniffed the towels and recoiled a second time. "I'm gonna get some new towels. Lydia, come with me?"
The two of them headed to the front office while Allison took a shower. Maggie walked up to the front desk. "Excuse me? The card on the dresser in our room says it's a non-smoking room, but all of our towels reek of nicotine."
The receptionist turned to face them. It was a gray-haired woman in a floral dress and red cardigan. The voice box on her neck caught Maggie's attention.
She gave Maggie a smile. "Sorry about that, sweetheart."
Lydia pointed to a set of numbers on the wall. "What's that? That number?"
The receptionist followed Lydia's hand. "It's a kind of inside thing for the motel. My husband insists on keeping it up."
Maggie frowned. "What do they mean?"
She chuckled softly. "It's a little morbid, to be honest. You sure you two want to know?"
"If I didn't want to know, I wouldn't have asked."
Lydia nodded. "Tell us."
The receptionist met their eyes. "We're not gonna make the top of anyone's list when it comes to customer satisfaction."
"Obviously."
"But we are number one in California when it comes to one disturbing little detail. Since opening, more than any other motel in California, we have the most guest suicides."
"198?" Lydia inquired.
The receptionist nodded. "And counting."
They made their way back to their room and since Allison was out of the shower, Maggie said, "According to the receptionist, there have been 198 suicides here."
"198?" Allison repeated.
Lydia nodded. "Yes, and we're talking 40 years. On average that's... 4.95 a year, which is... actually expected. But who commemorates that with a framed number? Who does that? Who?"
"All suicides?"
Lydia nodded a second time. "Yes. Hanging, throat-cutting, pill-popping, both-barrels-of-a-shotgun-in-the-mouth suicides. I don't know about you, but me, I..."
Lydia's voice stopped and she turned to them moments later. "Did you hear that?"
"Lydia?" Allison and Maggie called.
Lydia turned to face them. "Did either of you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"The two people in the other room... they shot each other."
"Lydia?" Maggie called again.
The strawberry blonde walked out of the room and Allison and Maggie followed her to another room. They shared a look before entering room 217. "Hello?" Lydia called out.
Maggie noticed a plastic tarp covering half the room and construction equipment, but saw no bodies.
"Lydia, what are you doing?" Allison wondered.
"Hello?" Lydia asked with a frown. "It had to be right here. It was a guy and a girl, and, I mean, they sounded younger, but... they were here."
Allison nodded and said, "I believe you. After everything we've been through, I believe you."
Lydia glanced to them. "You know, there is something seriously wrong with this place. Hey, Allison, Maggie, we need to leave."
Allison frowned. "But they were suicides, not murders, and it's not like this place is haunted, right?"
Maggie let out a small sigh as Lydia said, "Maybe it is. You know, I bet that couple made their suicide pact in that very room. Maybe that's why they're renovating. Maybe they've been scraping brain matter off the wood paneling."
Allison and Maggie suggested with a shrug, "Maybe we should find out."
They made their way back to the front office and Lydia let out an annoyed sigh. "Well, there goes that."
Allison's voice caught Maggie's attention. "Maggie, didn't you say the sign said 198?"
Lydia moved closer to the sign. "It said 198. I swear to God it was 198. Maggie can vouch."
Maggie nodded. "It was 198. Now it's 201. The hell is going on here?"
Allison took a moment to think. "Okay, what does that mean, that there's been three more suicides?"
"Or three more about to happen," Lydia said. "Maggie, I texted Caleb and Stiles. You should do too. They might get a sense of urgency if you text them."
'Stiles, Caleb, we need to talk ASAP'
They met up with Stiles and Caleb and the former began explaining how weird Scott was acting. Allison said, "Last time I saw Scott act like that was during the full moon."
Stiles nodded. "Yeah, I know. He was definitely a little off with me and Caleb too. But actually, it was Boyd who was really off. I watched him put his fist through the vending machine."
Lydia turned to Maggie and Allison. "See, it is the motel. Either we need to get out of here right now, or... someone needs to learn to do an exorcism ASAP, before the werewolves go crazy and kill us." She opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a Bible.
Stiles frowned. "Okay, just hold on, all right? What if it's not just the motel? The number in the office went up by three, right?"
Allison nodded. "You mean like three sacrifices?"
"What if this time, it's three werewolves?"
Maggie frowned. "Scott, Isaac and Boyd. But there's four. Not three."
Stiles shrugged. "Maybe we were meant to come here."
"Exactly!" Lydia cried. "So can we get the hell out of here now? Please?"
Stiles took the Bible from Lydia's hands. "Wait, hang on. Let me see this."
Caleb picked up the newspaper clippings. "Guys? Check these out."
Stiles grabbed one from his hand and read it out loud. ""28 year old man hangs himself at the infamous Glen Capri.""
Lydia studied the other two articles. "Oh, no. Look at these two. They both mention room 217. These are probably all the suicides that happened in this room."
Allison turned to her. "So if every room has a Bible..."
"There could be articles in all the rooms," Maggie finished.
Stiles said sarcastically, "That's a beautiful thing. Most places leave a mint under the pillow. This one leaves a record of all the horrible deaths that occurred."
Lydia took a moment to think. "What if the room next door has the one about the couple?" She took them to room 217 and attempts to open the door. "No, that was not locked before."
Allison shook her head. "Forget it. We need to get Scott, Isaac and Boyd out of here."
A whirring sound caught their attention and Lydia asked quietly, "I'm not the only one who heard that, am I?"
Maggie leaned closer to the door. "Handsaw rev. Anyone have a lock pick?"
"Handsaw?" Stiles and Caleb repeated as they busted down the door.
"Never mind."
They ran inside to see Ethan, with the handsaw, inching it closer to his torso. Stiles immediately rushed him. "Hey, no, Ethan, don't!"
He tried to wrestle the handsaw away, but was failing miserably.
Maggie noticed a power cord, walked over to it, and yanked it out. As soon as she did so, Stiles managed to get the handsaw from Ethan's grasp. It fell to the floor, and Stiles soon after. He landed a mere centimeter or two from the spinning blade.
The blonde looked at Stiles and said, "Cutting the power tends to work."
Stiles huffed. "Whatever."
Ethan, who had his claws extended, inched them towards his torso. Stiles and Allison held his arms back, and he fell into the radiator. "Aah! What just happened?"
"Ethan!" Stiles cried.
"What happened?" Caleb asked, earning a shrug from Ethan.
"I don't know," he replied.
"What happened?" Stiles repeated.
Ethan frowned. "Didn't you hear what I just said? Caleb just asked me the same thing. I don't know how I got there or what I was doing."
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Okay, you could be a little more helpful, you know. We did just save your life."
Ethan narrowed his eyes. As they walked down a set of stairs outside, he buttoned his shirt. "And you probably shouldn't have."
Lydia sighed. "What now?"
"I'll find Scott," Allison replied. "You guys grab Isaac and Boyd. The best thing we can do is get them out of this place."
Caleb and Maggie frowned at Stiles since he was staring at Lydia weirdly, which she noticed.
"What?" Lydia asked. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Stiles shook his head and tried to escape the question. "Oh, no, I w..."
"Stiles."
He sighed defeatedly. "All right, Lydia. I didn't want to say anything, but this... everything we're going through... we've kind of been through something like this before. A lot like this."
Lydia frowned. "What do you mean? When?"
Caleb met her eyes. "Your birthday party. The night you poisoned everyone with wolfsbane."
She glared at them and Stiles let out another sigh. "Lydia, I'm sorry, okay? Look, I didn't mean you're trying to kill people, okay? I just... I just mean that maybe... maybe you're somehow involved in getting people to kill themselves, you know? Which, now that I say that out loud, it just sounds really terrible, so I'm just going to stop talking."
Maggie nodded. "That's smart."
Lydia froze in front of a grate. "Stiles, Maggie, Caleb... Do you hear that?"
Stiles, Maggie and Caleb asked, "What?"
"A baby crying," Lydia said softly. "I hear... I hear water running. Oh, my God."
The baby was placed underwater. Lydia turned to Maggie, Caleb and Stiles, panic etched on her face. "She's drowning the baby! Someone's drowning!"
They ran to Boyd's room to find the tub full of water. Stiles tried to drain it, but couldn't. "He blocked it. He blocked the drain with something. I can't get to it."
"What do we do?" Lydia asked.
"Here, help me," Stiles said.
"Is he dead?"
Maggie shook her head. "I don't think so, but we really need to get him out of there."
"How long can a werewolf stay underwater?"
Stiles frowned at Lydia. "You think I know that?" He backed away and hit the radiator. "Ow! Wait a sec, the heater. Heater... Ethan came out of it when he touched the heater."
"What?"
Stiles rolled his eyes. "It's heat, heat, fire. Heat does it, all right? We need something... We need fire."
"He's underwater," Lydia stated bluntly.
"Yeah, I'm aware of that."
Caleb frowned and said, "Hang on. There should be emergency flares on the bus. They have their own oxidizers and can be used underwater."
Stiles glanced to him. "Are you serious?"
Lydia nodded. "He is. Go!"
He dashed out of the room and Maggie heard a soft scuffle from under the bed. She lifted the covers to reveal Isaac. "Hey, Isaac. You're gonna be all right."
Isaac backed into a shadow so he was barely visible. Stiles returned and said, "I got 'em. What do I do? How do I do this?"
Lydia said impatiently, "The cap, it's like a match. The cap's a match. Stiles!"
He let out a huff. "Yeah, I'm trying."
Maggie shot the strawberry blonde a look. "Stiles, the cap is like a match, and you need to light it."
Stiles nodded and lit it. "Ooh." He placed it under the water and rescued Boyd.
Caleb took a moment to light the second flare and knelt next to the bed. "Sorry, man."
He burned Isaac's skin and he came to and glared at him. "Ow!"
"You're welcome."
They made their way outside and reunited with Allison and she let out a sigh. "I can't find Scott anywhere."
Stiles frowned. "It's happening to him to, isn't it?"
"It has to be," Lydia replied. "Didn't you say there was another flare on the bus?"
Stiles nodded. "Yeah. I'll get it."
They saw Scott standing in the middle of the street, standing in gasoline, holding a flare.
"Scott... Scott," Allison called.
"There's no hope," Scott answered sadly.
Allison frowned. "What do you mean, Scott? There's always hope."
"Not for me. Not for Derek."
"Derek wasn't your fault. You know Derek wasn't your fault."
Scott's face dropped further. "Every time I try to fight back, it just gets worse. People keep getting hurt. People keep getting killed."
Stiles stepped closer to his friend. "Scott, listen to me, okay? This isn't you, all right? This is someone inside your head telling you to do this. Okay? Now..."
Scott cut him off. "What if it isn't? What if it is just me? What if doing this is actually the best thing that I could do for everyone else? It all started that night, the night I was bitten. You remember the way it was before that? You and me, we were... we were... we were nothing. We weren't popular. We weren't good at lacrosse. We weren't important; not like Maggie or Caleb. We were no one. Maybe I should be no one again. No one at all."
Stiles' eyes glistened. "Scott, just listen to me, okay? You're not no one. Okay? You're someone. You're... Scott, you're my best friend. You're Maggie and Caleb's friend. Okay? And I need you. Maggie needs you. Caleb needs you. Scott, you're my brother. All right, so... so if you're gonna do this, then... I think you're just gonna have to take me with you. All right?" He joined Scott, grabbed the flare, and tossed it behind him.
A fire started and Maggie yelled.
Lydia and Maggie pushed the boys to safety.
Maggie landed on top of Stiles and stared at him a moment. "You need to be more careful."
Stiles grinned. "You know, this is nice."
She scrambled off, feeling her cheeks heating up.
They decided to sleep on the bus since that felt safer. Maggie curled up on a seat and closed her eyes. Caleb was on another seat, sitting up, and closed his eyes.
When the sun rose the next day, they heard Coach's voice. He stared at them while walking down the aisle. "I don't want to know. I really don't want to know, but in case you missed the announcement, the meet's cancelled, so we're heading home. Pack it in. Pack it in."
Ethan walked towards Scott and sat next to him. "I don't know what happened last night, but I'm pretty sure you saved my life."
Stiles frowned. "Actually, I saved your life, but not that it matters that much. It's just... it's a minor detail."
Maggie nodded. "Pretty minor, but very important."
Ethan ignored Stiles' words and Maggie's statement and kept talking to Scott. "So, I'm gonna give you something. We're pretty sure Derek's still alive. But he killed one of ours. That means one of two things can happen. Either he joins our pack..."
"...and kills his own," Scott finished.
"Or Kali goes after him, and we kill him. That's the way it works."
Stiles, who was still listening, butted in. "You know, your little code of ethics there is sort of barbaric, just F.Y.I."
Ethan rejoined Danny and Stiles moved next to Scott.
Coach started saying, "Hey, Ethan, I wanted to..."
Lydia cut him off. "Coach, can I see your whistle for a second?" She took it from his neck.
"Hey, Eth... I'm gonna need that back. Ethan..."
Lydia blew the whistle into her hand to reveal a purply dust. "What is that?" Stiles asked.
"Wolfsbane," Lydia answered.
Stiles' brow furrowed. "So every time Coach blew the whistle on the bus, Scott, Isaac, and Boyd.."
"...and Ethan."
"We all inhaled it," Scott said.
Allison nodded. "You were all poisoned by it."
Caleb moved next to Lydia and studied the wolfsbane dust. "This must be how the Darach got into their heads."
Stiles nodded. "That's how he did it."
He grabbed the whistle from Lydia's hand and rushed to the window. He opened it and Scott ducked. He tossed the whistle out the window and the bus drove away. Coach yelled, "Hey, hey, hey, hey! Stilinski!"
Stiles returned to his seat next to Maggie and she glanced at him. "I hope you don't get detention for that."
He frowned. "Thank you for that, Maggie."
"You're welcome."