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Summary
“As far as I can ascertain it’s a proximity curse,” Deaton says, still leading Stiles away from Scott’s house, walking quickly enough it’s nearly a jog. “Your life-forces have been merged. As you come into contact, he weakens and you strengthen.”
“Is it temporary?” Stiles asks. He feels almost normal, now. Close to himself. Sick to his stomach, but not supercharged.
Deaton frowns. “I don’t know.”