Scott pulls out his phone.

He dials. 

"Mom? I'm bringing someone over, she needs a place to stay tonight. I know, but I'll tell you as soon as we get there. I have something important to tell you. I know, I know. Love you too. Bye."

"Okay then, I wasn't expecting you to do that right then, uh. For the record, I am definitely up for you thinking things through, that wasn't a 'do it right now because I have good arguments' kind of deal, but. Okay."

"Scott, you just told Danny and your mom. We are not doing my dad next. If anyone, we should tell Lydia."

"Yes, probably, but is she trustworthy or do you just think she's hot?"

"Lydia is a brilliant mathematician, strategic thinker, and knows more mythology, science and history  than you do. We're bringing her in."

"You think she's cute. She's also something, we don't know what it is, and it could be dangerous. You were the one who brought up sleeper agents. And anyway, Danny already knew."

"You just think he's cute. And whatever's going on with Lydia, she needs our help."

Sigh.

"Does she need our help literally right now?" wonders Yvette.

"No, alright, I get it. I'm just the driver. We'll be at his house soon."

"Oh, thanks. I forgot to tell you to change course."

Driving. 

Yvette would normally try to say that she is not dismissing Stiles's idea, or even Lydia, but actually they should stagger their dramatic moments a bit, break it up for their sanity instead of having everything happen in a cascade after a very stressful night.

But she kind of doesn't want to talk to Stiles right now. She needs to save some social energy for Scott's mom, and he's been unceasingly rude. She'll handle Stiles later.

If no one is going to talk, she's going to lean back in her chair and close her eyes and wonder why her.

She can wonder in relative peace.

Scott seems to have fallen silent as well.

Excellent. She can just. Have a moment to think, then.

What even was that book, it looked - no, it felt important in some way. She needs to figure out what it was so she can see about getting home, or -

She sees a hint of something, behind her eyelids. A flash of shining gold and starry blue, swirling and shifting just like a book she saw. It solidifies in front of her as if she were sitting in darkness and it was the only light in the room.

Her eyes snap open and she inhales in a gasp.

Stiles glances in the mirror but doesn't say anything.

"Everything okay back there?"

"I," she begins, and then she stops. "Nothing is currently going wrong, but I think the book is in my head. Or at the very least hiding behind my eyelids, augh."

"You really one know how to pick 'em, Scott. 'The Sheriff', sure."

"What book?"

"The, teleporty book that I touched. That dropped me in front of you."

"What's your universe like? Mostly like this one?"

"It's in your head?"

"Or something! I closed my eyes and it just - appeared. Like I was looking at it in front of me and could reach out and touch it." Pause. "And - yes, mostly like this one so far, though if there were werewolves I didn't know of them."

"We're here. You guys can talk inside. Good night, Yvette."