When they cross the boundary into Hale territory, Stiles shifts a little in his sleep, shoulders hunching. Lydia's immunity carries over into most of the supernatural world: she can't be bitten, she can't be poisoned, and she's never been able to do magic on her own. Unlike Stiles, she can't feel the veil that separates Beacon Hills from the rest of the world. Sometimes she wonders if what happened before they left would have turned out differently if she'd undergone some transformative alchemy, but usually she tries not to think about it at all.

Stiles turns to look at her, schools his face into an expression of exasperation, but then there’s a rush—a current, a wave, a familiar tendril of smart, precise, hot pink and sharp heels and wicked smartness—and—

In the end, it's only Lydia and Stiles left. Alone and desperate, oh so desperate. Desperate times and desperate measures and all that, but emphasis on the times. With nothing else left to lose, they find a way to change it all. And Stiles may just figure out the key to stopping everything that ever went wrong - well, from Peter onwards. Because he's older and wiser (sort-of) and beginning to understand in a way that he never did before. After all, the strength of the wolf is the pack, right?

Stiles is born with red eyes.