[ They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die. Well, he has died – was dead for a full sixteen hours, chasing after the evasive, bloodied roots of the Nemeton through limbo – and he can’t claim to have ever experienced that phenomenon. Not until now. Suddenly silent, he looks at Jonas, really looks at him, as if trying to commit those features to memory. Because he feels himself at the precipice of a revelation that could break them, and Stiles is terrified. Like the film reel of a movie, he pores over the past half-year together with Jonas and hopes to god he’s not about to set fire to the theater. ]

I’ve told you my dad is a cop. The sheriff. Well, there was this guy. Donovan Donati. [ The name is spit venomously, his eyes flashing with a barely restrained hatred even now. ] He was a regular at the station. In and out of the cells like a revolving door. So, me and… [ He falters, then continues on. ] Me and Scott are at the station, talking to my dad. Donovan was there, arrested for breaking and entering and breaking parole by carrying a loaded gun. He sees my dad and loses it. Starts saying how…how he’s gonna kill my dad. “I’m gonna find you,” [ he mimics, expression contorted furiously, ] “gonna get a knife, and I’m gonna stab you until you’re dead.” Shit like that. All right in front of my dad’s officers, as if –

[ Stiles cuts off sharply, wincing. A hand flies up to his right shoulder, pressing against the flesh there as something ripples beneath the surface in warning. One of the Arachne limbs. Mouth flat, he glances at Sasuke – it’s just like what happened during his panic attack, when he got too emotional. The transformation started to trigger. ]

Sorry. Gimme a minute.