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Stiles has been missing for three years and everyone is starting to loose hope. All except Scott.
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Thomas and his friends are living a great life in the safe haven only for things to go wrong.
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When Scott finds crucial information about Stil...
"You think this is funny?" Scott yelled at Minho. "You think it's funny! Thomas was our only clue to finding Stiles. Our only real lead. And you! Think. It's funny."
Scott marched up towards Minho preparing to throttle him.
"It's hilarious!" Minho shouted, looking at Scott head on.
Something in Scott clicked.
"Oh boy." Muttered Isaac with a slightly worried look spread across his face, but of course, never too worried.
Minho was too busy cackling to notice Scott's eyes begin to glow red.
"It's hilarious..." Minho continued. "That Thomas would think I'd ever stop looking."
Scott paused.
Isaac smirked.
Minho placed a hand on Scott's shoulder. "Thomas is family. That means we have each other's backs. No matter what." Scott smiled softly. "A good friend once told me that he would follow Thomas anywhere. That goes the same with me."
Scott looked at his feet. Minho placed his hands on his hips. Signs of hope were finally finding it's way back.
"Now, what are we shucking around for! Thomas was clearly here." Minho went straight towards the screen where the letter was found and frantically started searching.
"I — What are you?" Lydia started.
"Shh —" Minho cut her off abruptly.
"I'm sorry I must be dreaming. Did you just "shh" me?"
"Yes." Minho replied bluntly. "And if you keep talking I will do it again."
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Thomas hated dreams. At least he did when he came into the maze for the first time, he still wasn't too sure about before the maze. Like the flare, dreams cause your mind to attack itself. If they are yours then why are their bad ones? Shouldn't we be able to decide what goes on? Or do our minds subconsciously punish us with nightmares?
