Which is all the more reason to get over it. We're in a strange place with weird stuff going on, more weird that we're used to, and we need each other, Allison. You, me, Scott, Isaac, Lydia, Erica, and yes, Derek... We need to give a crap. Because no one else will. Not like that.

I'm not saying you have to sit around a campfire singing Kumbiya, but we're stuck here and you don't really have the option to fly off to Paris for the summer, so just... put on your big girl pants and just be friends already, god. Why does one of you have to get to some almost dead-dead state for the others to admit you guys matter to each other?

[This is Stiles. Stiles is unimpressed. With all of you.]