Scott: So… the stuff with Theo… apology accepted?
Stiles: Yes. And the candy and the snacks. And the six hundred and forty three text messages.
Stiles: You definitely got a little full of yourself towards the end.
Derek, grabbing the mic: Happy Valentine's Day, Beacon Hills High. For me, it is not happy. But don't let my sadness diminish your night. Anyway, romantic relationships never work out and life is fleeting.
Derek: Just when things start to turn around, they fall apart.
Derek: Now I know exactly how FDR felt after Pearl Harbor.
Peter: Derek... you have to do the right thing here.
Derek, solemnly: I know. I will.
-----[later]-----
Peter: I have never taken the high road. But I tell other people to, because then there's more room for me on the low road.
Derek: To be a good alpha, you need to find something that really motivates you. Why do you want a pack?
Scott: I just wanna protect my friends.
Derek: That's great. Keep going.
Scott: Okay, yeah. I love my friends. I think they're awesome. They're all I care about in the whole world!
Derek: Yes. Love and friendship. What else is there, really? I wanted to be an alpha because I lost my entire family in a terrible fire... and I suppose I need to feel like I have a pack, like they're my new family. So the loneliness doesn't destroy me. Leaving me... to die alone.
Scott: Great! You got your goal, I got mine! I'm gonna go run some laps!
deaton: Let's put this matter aside for the time being.
stiles, looking around nervously: Can only you see the Time Being?
deaton: Huh?
stiles: Is it standing near me?
deaton: Who?
stiles, on the verge of a panic attack: The Time Being.
Derek: I’ve been trying to go easier on my pack. Sometimes they don’t take things as seriously as they should, and I can’t always be mad at them. They’re still learning the ropes, and if they break a few rules here or there, it’s just cause they’re trying to have fun.
Deaton: I remember. When I was seven, I used to sneak into my father’s office to see his collection of antique globes.
[pack training session]
Derek: Wow. Scott just killed Stiles. He wasn’t fast enough to untie him before the hunter pulled the trigger.
Stiles: Derek—
Derek: I can’t hear you, Stiles, you’re dead. Scott, he bled out in your lap. And now you show up at my door. How are you going to break the news to me? Let’s see.
Scott: Okay, we don’t have to do this.
Derek: Ah, hello Scott! How are things going with Stiles, the love of my life? Wait, why are you here at this late hour? And whose blood is that?
Scott: Dude, I get it.
Derek: It’s—it’s Stiles’ blood? This is devastating. I’m inconsolable. And…
[Derek snaps his fingers]
Derek: I’ve killed myself.
Stiles: Derek, it’s no use pretending to be upset at us. No offense, but I can read every emotion you’re feeling on your face.
Derek, growling: Can you read this one?
Stiles: Yes! You’re trying to be tough and angry, but deep down you’re super impressed by what Scott accomplished today, and you’re proud of your whole pack for coming together.
Derek:
Derek: Damn, you’re good.
[inside the burnt, shattered, destroyed remains of the Hale house]
Stiles: God. What happened here, Derek?
Derek, deadpan: I couldn’t find the remote.
