Rafael McCall's face was the first thing that Scott's eyes landed on upon going through the hospital doors. His traits seemed strained with the weight of the crisp concern he was bearing.

Once both of their gazes locked on each other, Scott walked his way, Stiles and Lydia not too far behind him, "Dad?" said Scott when he got close enough to his father.

"What the hell is happening around here again?"

"Honestly, I am not even sure where to start," said Scott in a sigh.

"A hug might be a good place to start," Stiles' intervention didn't go unnoticed; it brought the attention of the three of them towards him. When nobody said a thing, he tried to render his sarcasm heavy sentence more candid, "I am just saying, you haven't seen each other for a while, and a hug would be a good start,"

In response, Rafael took a deep breath and shifted his attention back onto his son, "When did you get back?"

"Last night, but it's a bit of a long story,"

"I really hope you're good at giving summaries, because I have stories of my own to tell, and I assure all of you that we don't have a minute to waste," Rafael paused, swiftly looked around for a second before asking, "And where's the sheriff? I couldn't get a hold of him on my way here,"

"Well... About that...," Lydia gave her signature expressions, one that usually meant "It's too insane to look or sound sane while explaining it."

Seeing that Lydia fell short on words, Stiles took over, "I think you'll have a chance to see him, and faster than might you think," Stiles turned to Scott, "You too should talk for a while, you know where to find us later,"

And on that note, Scott nodded and watched as Stiles and Lydia walked down the hallway, away from him and his father, leaving the both of them alone.

"Another supernatural enemy?" said Rafael.

"Sort of,"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, there's more than one,"

Rafael took a split second to digest the news before getting back to his usual demeanor, "Does that have anything to do with the situation at the sheriff station?"

"You know about that?"

Rafael gestured Scott to walk with him, "All I know is what I was told when I was assigned this case, I assumed things at the station must be out of hands if they sent me out here for this,"

"Why are you here by the way?"

"Mass kidnapping, and apparently the authorities in Beacon Hills are overwhelmed as I understood," said Rafael.

"That's an understatement. Do you investigate kidnappings too?"

"Long story. A bus full of high school students, including the driver disappeared earlier tonight. According to the eyewitness, they vanished without a trace, but he has a clear idea of who did it," As they both moved through the hallways, several medical staff members rushed past them, pushing stretchers that carried people wearing deputies' uniforms, all of them in pitiable conditions. Rafael's eyes followed after them for a moment, before darting back towards Scott, "What the hell happened?"

"An explosion,"

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"Again?"

"Did the witness say who it was?" Scott asked.

"Well, we'll be there in a few seconds, you can ask him yourself,"

"You want me to talk to him?" Scott was split between understanding and perplexity. On one hand he thought it was evident that he should talk to the witness, but on the other... He couldn't help but find the situation odd all the way.

"You'll understand why when you'll see him,"

Scott didn't like the sound of that one bit. Terrified to see another friend or even acquaintance in a bad situation. Of course, it still would have been horrible no matter who it was that had to witness that, but still... He couldn't chase that feeling away.

Rafael finally stopped in front of a door; he pushed it open and stepped aside to let Scott in. His jaw dropped a little when his caught sight of the man, "Coach?" he exclaimed.

Taken by Surprise, coach Finstock dropped the spoon full of food he was holding, back on the plate in front of him, "McCall? No, no, no, not you again! You graduated so, I don't want to be involved in your....," Coach seemed to be struggling to speak, looking for his words as his hands, his fingers twiddled erratically, as though he was trying to make the end of his sentence physically materialize, "You, your... Bizarreness," he finished.

"I think it's a little bit too late for that, coach," Scott gave him an apologetic look.

"No, no, no I am done with your stories. You and Stilinski and Dunbar, you're not welcomed within the perimeters of this room," said Finstock in a haste.

"I am afraid you'll have to make an exception this time around, coach," Rafael interfered, leaving Finstock no choice but to listen to Scott.

"Coach, please tell us what happened?" said Scott calmly.

"We were supposed to drive to Davenford Prep school, for a lacrosse game. I went back to the locker rooms to look for Greenberg, a...,"

"Greenberg is still in Beacon Hills high?" the question jumped out of Scott before he had the chance to stop it.

"No, it's his younger brother but that's not... Just... Do you want to hear the rest of what happened or not?"

"No, yes, please, I am sorry,"

"Anyways, I couldn't find him, that's when I heard the screams and I ran back towards the bus but...," Finstock trailed off.

"But they were already gone, weren't they?" Scott decided to finish his sentence for him, just to spare him the struggle.

"You said you saw the person that took them. I just wonder how? Since you said the students were already gone," Rafael wasn't as lenient as Scott with his tone.

"I don't think it was a considence. She wanted me to see her, she stayed behind just so she would tell me she did it,"

"She was the one that stabbed you?" said Scott.

"Oh no, I fell on a kitchen knife that was just lying there on the floor, for no apparent reason. Of course, she stabbed me! Who the hell else would do it?!"

"Coach, we're just trying to understand things clearly, try to calm down and be more helpful, please," Rafael felt he had to interfere again.

"You said, you knew this person. Can you give us her name?"

Coach pondered for a moment, he seemed reluctant for some reason, but he spoke eventually, "It was that teacher that was reported missing a few years ago, she was presumed dead after that,"

The moment Finstock brought the story of the missing teacher, a single name flashed in Scott's mind. There was no doubt for him to have, that woman was the only teacher that was reported missing and then presumed dead after a while. It was her, It was...

"Jennifer Blake,"

Finstock brought Scott out of his thoughts when he uttered her name. He'd guessed her identity right, it was her. More importantly and most unfortunately, he had a pretty clear idea of the fate she reserved for the students she took.

"Did she say anything else?" said Rafael.

"She said they were the fuel to her fire, or something crazy of the sort,"

Scott was right on the money again. The highschoolers she took, were to be sacrificed for her crazed desire to acquire more power. The need to talk to Liam and Hayden about the hideout of the enemy suddenly became more pressing in his mind.

Once they thought they heard all they needed to hear from Finstock, they exited his room, closing the door behind them. They stood in silence for a moment, breathing in and out deeply, sighing a few times in the process.

"You know who this Jennifer Blake is, don't you?"

"Yeah, we fought her before... And now she's back, and she's not alone," said Scott.

"So, it's that bad?" what came from Rafael was a question, but it sounded more like a statement than anything else.

"No matter how bad you think it is, trust me, It's way worse,"

"I guess I need to get up to speed with everything," there was another span of muteness between the two men after that, but then Rafael spoke again and broke it, "Say... Is it too late for that hug that Stiles mentioned?"

"No, it'll never be late for a hug,"

They stopped communicating with words and let their bodies do the talking, as they both tightened the embrace. Neither of them would admit it but they were both looking forward for that moment since they first saw each other, and Stiles only voiced it out loud on their behalf.