When they got to the clinic, Brett began convulsing, and there was a strange yellow substance foaming at his mouth.

"What the hell is happening to this kid?" Stiles muttered.

Deaton frowned as he focused on Brett. "He's been poisoned by a rare form of wolfsbane. I need to make an incision and you need to hold him down."

Stiles turned to the former Alpha. "Hey, Derek. How about a little werewolf strength. Or demigod strength?"

Derek, Dmitri and Marika helped Stiles hold Brett down. Marika knew the boys were doing more work, but she did the best she could.

Derek protested, "Yeah, I'm not the only one here with werewolf strength."

Deaton looked at him. "If you can't hold him still, the incision might kill him."

"Derek, Dima, he's slipping," Marika warned. "Stiles and I can't hold him by -- Aah!"

Marika got knocked back and Stiles grabbed her before she could hit the counter. She gave him a nod of thanks.

Brett ran towards the exit and was knocked unconscious by Peter who said, "I guess I still have a little werewolf strength left."

Derek scoffed. "Yeah, maybe more than a little."

Dmitri placed a hovering hand over Brett's mouth and frowned. "Uh, guys? I don't feel a breath."

Deaton nodded at his words and pushed a scalpel into Brett's breast bone and sliced down. Brett let out a gasp. Dmitri and Marika noticed yellow smoke flowing from the wound before it dissipated. "I think he'll be fine, but he'll probably be out for awhile."

Stiles frowned and leaned closer to Brett. "Guys, can you hear that? I think he's saying something."

The demigoddess took a moment to listen to Brett's words. "The sun... The moon... The truth... The sun... The moon... The truth..."

Deaton caught their attention when he said, "Three things cannot long be hidden. The sun, the moon, and the truth. It's Buddhist."

"Satomi," Peter stated.

They headed to the station and Parrish looked up at the teens. His gaze turned to Stiles. "Your dad should be back within the hour. You want to wait in his office?"

Dmitri gave a small smile. "Actually, we're here to talk to you."

"Privately," Lydia added.

Marika showed Parrish the list and he frowned. "This is a hit list?"

"We call it a deadpool," Stiles explained. "Recognize any of the names?"

Parrish nodded slowly. "Yeah. The sheriff had me run a bunch of these through the system last night. But we couldn't find any of them."

Dmitri turned to Lydia. "Show him our findings."

She flipped it over for him. "Okay. That's kind of terrifying. What's the number?"

"That's how much you're worth," Lydia told him.

Parrish frowned. "I'm worth five dollars?"

"Five million," Stiles corrected.

"I only make $40,000 a year. Maybe I should kill myself. I don't get it. Why... Why am I on this?"

Marika sighed. "I wish I knew."

Stiles shrugged. "Honestly, that might be a question for another day. Right now, there's still another third of the list we gotta crack."

"We need the third cipher key," Lydia said. "But we need help getting it."

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