Epilogue

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"Tommy, c'mon. Wake up!"

Stiles opened his eyes, blinking a few times as his vision adjusted itself. He saw a familiar fluffy haired blonde guy standing over him.

"What is it, Newt," Stiles said, grunting as he sat up.

"Food is being served soon," Newt smiled, "And you're late!"

Stiles stood up, taking in his surroundings. Newt watched him carefully.

"Hey, you okay," Newt asked, curiously.

Stiles looked at the bracelets on his wrist. He didn't recognize them but they felt important.

"Yeah, uh, strange dream," Stiles said, shaking his head.

"What about," Newt asked, walking out with him.

"I was fighting or something and someone just kept yelling Stiles," Stiles said, recalling what he remembered last.

"That is weird," Newt asked, knitting his eyebrows.

"Right. What the hell even is a Stiles?"

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