Before Stiles can get up off his knees the creature shoves him face first into the linoleum. It plants a foot between his shoulder blades and keep him there. Stiles struggles against the creature's hold. It leans down over him, it's hot sticky, breath dampening the back of his neck as it moves in for the kill. Stiles claws into the cheap linoleum, his feet thrashing, using every muscle to try and wriggle free. Then he stiffens crying out as the creature's wicked claws dig into the back of his skull, crushing his face into the floor.

"Kyle, no!" The blue-eyed werewolf yells from somewhere behind him. Stiles groans as blinding pain sears through his skull. Unable to move, his eyes strain to look up, toward the table. All he can see is Malia's hand, which had fallen and was now dangling off the table's edge.

His fingers strain forward, reaching for her, "…Mal—" He grits out. The light behind his eyes starts to flicker, but he fights against it. Before everything can fade to black the claws are ripped from his skull and his body is suddenly flung backward. He rolls across the floor, landing on his stomach with a grunt.

He tries to rise up on his elbows but his arms give out under him and he crumples back to the floor. For a few seconds everything goes hazy as his heart slams against his rib cage, blood rushing in his ears.

Then with a jolt he surges back to the present and wrestles himself onto his hands and knees. Behind him he hears the savage snarling of werewolves and his eyes dart around. He sees blue-eyed werewolf with his arms banded around the creature's neck, wrestling it to the ground.

Stiles drags himself up onto shaky legs. Staggering his way to Malia, he crashes into the table's edge and catches his balance.

"Mal?" He grunts, his movements sluggish. Her eyes are aren't open anymore and she's barely breathing. He shakes his head, "It's okay, Mal, I gotcha." He falls forward, managing to slide one arm around her shoulders and the other under her legs, as he tries to gather her up in his arms. Behind him there is a crash and a yowl of pain. Stiles lifts Malia in his arms, and he manages to take a single wobbly step toward the door.

But then the creature is right at his back, seizing him by the neck. Malia tumbles from his arms and falls back onto the table. Stiles reaches back blindly trying to fight it off. But the creature just roars ferociously and forces Stiles forward slamming his head against the tabletop. His head lands right next to Malia's, he moans in pain, his head thrashing from side to side as he tries to push himself up on his elbows.

But the creature holds him down and eventually his arms give out under him. With his last ounce of strength he turns his head, and his chin brushes against Malia's soft hair. He pants against the tabletop, Malia's hair tickling his face as he stares in vain at the doorway. It was only five feet away. But Stiles couldn't get Malia out. He can't even lift his head.

The creature stabs it's claws into Stiles' shoulder and Stiles rears off the table, hollering in pain. Then the table beneath his hands suddenly rattles as the loudest, most savage growl Stiles has ever heard pierces the air. In a blur of movement the claws are torn from his skin and Stiles falls forward, only to be caught around the shoulders.

His head falls into the soft skin of a bare shoulder. He manages to drag his head up and his breath catches in his throat. Malia's wild electric blue eyes are staring back at him. Stiles gasps, but before he can form words, Malia's head whips toward the creature. She has it by the throat. Holding it away from them with one hand.

Malia had it subdued, her clawed hand crushing it's throat. She bares her fangs at it in disgust and flings it across the room, with so much force that as it shatters the granite countertop and brings the whole thing down in a pile of debris. She watches as it sinks through the counter, snarling in her throat. As it slumped down lifeless, she thrills, baring her fangs and giving a roar of approval.

"Mal?" Stiles gasps, her head whips around to stare at him, her coyote-blue eyes trailing over him. The rumbling growl in her chest softening into something more like a steady purr, as she cocks her head assessing him. His legs start to give out slightly. Malia catches him, drawing him back up against her, bearing up his weight as if it were nothing.

Her mouth snaps shut, her fangs hooking overtop of her full bottom lip, as she stares at him. Stiles stares back at her panting with relief. Very delicately she reaches out and runs her clawed fingers through his messy hair, as she purrs. Stiles sags against her burying his face into her neck as relief rushes through him. "Oh, thank God. I thought I'd lost you," he murmurs into the skin of her neck.