"It's going to be okay--" Stiles lowered to the ground as easily as he could, keeping Isaac half pulled into his lap. He was struggling to keep himself under control--there was so much blood.

"I'll call Deaton, you're going to be okay, okay?" He had to believe that; Isaac was everything to him...he was going to be okay, they would find the hunters, and kill them. It was the only thing that Stiles could repeat to himself, over and over in his head.