"Oh god," Nancy mutters to herself as the cabbie drives off. In a few quick seconds, she's at Stiles' side, grabbing his arm to steer him towards her apartment again. The doors unlock as she approaches, pulling the younger boy up the stairs and into her apartment.

"Morning, Juliet, I'm back early. With Stiles." The cat was nowhere to be seen, but it was a force of habit to let the cat know she was home. Doffing her coat and jacket on the floor, Nancy took Stiles over towards her couch to set him down. Then, sitting next to him, she took both of his hands in hers.

"Stiles? Sweetheart? What's going on?" There was still no recognition in his eyes. "Are you hurt at all?" He was barefoot, she was going to assume the worst.