#stydiawritersnet

“Un-freaking-believable,” Stiles held his wrist out as Deaton examined it. “This is literally the last time I play bait.”

“I’m sorry,” Scott said, as he glanced over to check on Liam. The beta was still out cold, as Allison ran a cloth across his forehead. “He okay?”

“Yea,” she replied with a nod. “The wolfsbane wasn’t a strong enough dosage to do much damage. He might be out for a while longer though.”

“Good. Baby beta’s a bit whiny when he’s been shot,” Stiles retorted.

Lydia snorted from the other side of the room with a grin. “You’re one to talk. The whole way here all you did was complain about your wrist hurting. The thing grabbed me too. You don’t hear me squawking about it.”

“He threw me into a tree!” Stiles added with a glare. “Because I told him to let you go. A thank you would be nice.”

“Oh sorry, thank you Stiles for making what was supposed to be a peaceful encounter, significantly worse. What would we do without you?”

Deaton’s eyes shot up as he looked between Stiles and Lydia. “You say he grabbed both of you? At the same time?”

“He grabbed Lydia, manhandled me,” Stiles corrected earning him a glare from the strawberry blonde.

“Lydia will you come here for a second,” the vet asked. And as soon as she did, he took her hand, lifting up the fabric of her jacket a little. Stiles obviously looked down, seeing the same faint red line across her wrist that was also on his.

“What the hell is that? And why the hell do we both have it?”

“I’m not sure,” Deaton answered with a sigh. “It looks like our peaceful friend Yue Lao may have worked a little magic on you.”

Stiles could see Lydia’s eyes were as wide as his as she spoke. “What?”

“There are legends about Yue Lao, legends that say he can cast certain spells on people. But not much is known about what those spells entail. And well after tonight he might be less inclined to divulge his secrets to us.”

He was still processing the unknown magic down to him, when he felt Lydia’s hand hit him square in the chest. “Holy god, what the hell, Lyds.”

“If you hadn’t mouthed off to some immortal god we wouldn’t be in this mess,” she hissed folding her arms. “I swear you never think before you speak do you?”

“I’m sorry okay, who knew the guy would whammy us because I said he only spoke in fortune cookies.”

She rolled her eyes heading towards the door. “Whatever. I’m heading home. Because ten more seconds here and I might scream.”

She stalked away from him, and he was more than content to let her go, especially because Lydia seemed to be in a worse mood than he was.

At first he thought he was delirious, or maybe the vet needed to change his light bulbs, but the more steps Lydia took from him the clearer it became. A thick red cord that seemed to spiral around her wrist and across the space to do the same on his.

“Lydia wait,” he stood reaching for her, and the second she turned away it seemed to fade to just a flicker of red light. “Please tell me someone else saw that.”

Scott and Allison had moved closer now, both nodding in awe.

“Saw what?” Lydia looked between them, focusing on Stiles. “What did I miss?”

“Lydia continue to walk out the door,” Deaton was looking between their wrists again, a calculating look on his face. “Allison will you walk with her?”

“Sure,” the brunette walked over to her friend. The two of them walking backwards towards the door.

It took a little longer this time, but the string returned more vibrate than before. It glowed in the light of the moon through the window, and Stiles couldn’t just feel it on his wrist. He could feel it pulling at his heart as well. The cord stretched further, the more the girls moved, and if he had to guess he supposed they had reached the front door by now, satisfied when he heard the bell sound. It was like he was standing below it, the sound was so clear. And he could feel the rush of air from outside, so much that the sensation was making him too woozy to stay upright, and with one more look to the red string he was out.

~

She couldn’t explain what happened. One minute she was standing there, entranced by the cord that appeared out of nowhere, and the next she was lying on a table in Deaton’s back room, the vet shining a light at her eyes.

“Okay, I’m awake,” she groaned slapping the thing out of her line of vision, as she sat up. “Can someone tell me what just happened?”

“You both fainted,” Deaton explained.

She turned her head to see Stiles sitting there a smirk on his face. “I think we gathered that, Doc, thanks. Maybe you wanna venture a why?”

“Perhaps whatever spell you were hit with prevents the two of you from leaving the other alone.”

“Are you kidding?” Her eyes bore into the vet, until turning back to Stiles. “Tell me he’s kidding.”

“He looks rather serious,” Stiles replied, without his usual tint of sarcasm. That worried her more than Deaton’s words. Stiles could always crack a joke, even in the direst of trouble they could get into. But now there wasn’t even a trace of the quality she had grown most fond of.

“I don’t think you’re in any real danger. Yue Lao has never been known for being a cruel god,” Deaton looked at them like he was trying to word his statements carefully. “I think you two should just wait this out, in the same room if you can achieve that.”

“There goes girl’s night with Allison,” Lydia huffed, as she glanced around the room. “Where is Allison?”

“Liam woke up while you two were out so her and Scott took him home,” the vet explained.

“They left their best friends here unconscious, how kind,” Stiles muttered.

“Scott said your heart rates were stable, and well they weren’t too concerned when you took each other’s hands.”

Lydia glanced down, where her hand was indeed still clasped with Stiles. She hadn’t even realized they were touching.

“Sorry,” Stiles pulled away a faint blush on his cheeks. “I bet it was just the spell.”

“Yeah, the spell,” she agreed suddenly more interested in the titled floor than she’d ever been before.

“I think your both okay to leave now, just try not to go more than twenty feet from each other,” Deaton added with a shrug. “To be safe.”

Lydia rolled her eyes hopping off the table at the same time as Stiles. “We should probably stay at your place. My mom might be a bit confused if I tell her about magical red cords.”

“Oh my dad might be more confused,” he countered. And even though things kinda sucked right now, Lydia still managed so smile.

~

Luckily the sheriff was working late, because Stiles really didn’t want to explain things to his dad. Not that he had enough information to explain anything.

“So I can offer you a shirt and some uh, boxers to sleep in. If you want,” Stiles stumbled as she sat on the edge of his bed. “Or not. It’s up to you.”

“I’m okay,” she said with a smile. “You seem nervous, are you worried Deaton won’t find out what happened to us?”

“No, I’m sure he will. It just might take some time.”

She eyed him and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“So we might be stuck with each other for a while?”

“Oh yeah, most definitely,” he nodded taking a seat next to her. She managed to link their arms pulling him down to the bed with her, laughing

“Sorry I implied this was all your fault.”

“Oh no you didn’t imply that you stated it outright, rather loudly, I might add,” he said earning him an elbow to the ribs. “Ow, okay. I’m sorry it’s kinda all my fault.”

“It’s okay,” she replied resting her head on his shoulder. “I mean I could think of worse people to be magically stuck to for all eternity.”

“Oh really? Top three then,” he met her eyes with a smirk. “I’ll go first. Finstock.”

“Oh god that would be terrible.”

“Yea and Derek, I’m pretty sure he’d kill me off the bat and get it over with.”

“Or rip off your arm and beat you unconscious with it,” she supplied with a smirk.

“Okay and lastly Jackson. I’m sorry I have no clue how you could stand him for so long,” he finished with a nod.

“Eh he was hot,” she rolled to her side so she was facing him, and he looked over meeting her eyes, before she continued. “My turn, number one would be, Peter.”

He grimaced. “That’s fair and valid.”

“And don’t hate me, Cora,” she let her eyes drop from his with an apologetic look. “I know you two were friends, but god she was a bit annoying.”

“We are just hating on all the Hales tonight,” he joked earning him a laugh, and an eye roll. “Come on what’s your last one.”

“Greenberg,” she replied with so much confidence he almost laughed again. “I’m totally serious, he killed my Colonial Williamsburg diorama in the third grade. And I know it wasn’t an accident, because I told Gina Vega he stole her brand new box of Crayola’s.”

“I remember, Gina almost took out his eyes, kid spent two hours in the nurse’s office.”

“And how would you know?”

“I was in there,” he said knowing his voice was trailing off. “I had a panic attack when I was talking to the guidance counselor and they rushed me to the nurse. Waited with Greenberg until my dad came and got me.”

“Was it about your mom?” she asked placing a hand over his.

He nodded, looking into her eyes. “It was my first week back after she passed, and I just couldn’t deal.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he laced their hands together, with a grin. “It was a long time ago.”

“Time doesn’t heal all wounds,” she mused rubbing circles into his palm.

“True, but it dulls the bad ones,” He sat up pulling her with him across the floor. “And sometimes, people can help the aches too.”

“So people are like Vicodin?”

“Exactly,” he laughed, turning towards the stereo. “Okay ask it a question.”

“I’m sorry? Ask what a question?”

“The radio,” he replied meeting her eyes. “Haven’t you ever played the radio game?”

Lydia shook her head.

“Okay the rules are simple, ask a question and the first song to come on is your answer. Come on it’s fun I promise. Me and my mom would play all the time.”

“Fine,” she relented rolling her eyes. “Will I be stuck with Stiles for the rest of my life?”

He gave her a mock scowled as he tuned the radio dial landing on the intro strums of a song, which he immediately recognized.

“Gotta be Somebody, Nickelback.”

“Great my future fate is in the hands of a Canadian pop rock group,” she joked, squealing as he pulled her close.

“For mocking Nickelback you must dance to Nickelback. Rules are rules.”

He expected her to roll her eyes and turn away, but instead she took his hand dancing around the small room. Nickelback faded into Ed Sheeran, which gave way to at least six other songs, before Lydia even looked like she was fading in his arms.

“You’re falling asleep,” he whispered as her head rest on his shoulder.

“So,” she replied nestling closer. “You’re firm enough to sleep on.”

“Yeah, but I bet you drop like a dead weight the second you’re out.”

“Mean,” she grumbled into him, pulling back. “But you’re right.”

She left his side slipping her shoes off before climbing into his bed.

“I’ll take the floor,” he noted grabbing for his pillow, when he hand fell over his.

“Don’t be stupid,” she pulled him down to the mattress. “It’s your bed. Sleep on it.”

“But you’re sleeping on it.”

“And you think I need the whole thing?” she curled onto the right side pulling the comforter over her. “See plenty of room.”

“Okay,” he said, settling into the mattress. He was convinced he’d never get to sleep with Lydia lying right next to him, but the next thing he knew he was out.

~

They didn’t waste much time the next morning before they headed straight to Deaton’s, pulling in at the same time as the vet.

“So what did you find out?” Lydia questioned when they got closer to him.

“Good morning,” he replied unlocking the door, as he ushered them in. He looked at both their wirst quickly. “Nothing else happened right?”

“Besides magical tethering?” Stiles retorted. “No, that was pretty much the highlight of the evening. Why?”

“Well the marks on your wrist are gone, so are Lydia’s,” he said.

Lydia looked down examining her own wrist, and then Stiles’. She still saw the red wrapped around them both, connecting the two. “I can still see it.”

“So can I,” Stiles added with a shrug. “What the deal doc?”

“I didn’t want to say this last night, but it could have something to do with Yue Lao,” Deaton sighed giving them both a smirk before continuing. “He’s not just an immortal god. In Chinese lore he’s the god of marriage.”

“I’m sorry what?” They replied in unison, glancing at each other.

“You miss understood,” the vet said, holding up a hand to calm them. “He’s just the representation of unions, and the red cord that manifested last night was his way of letting you know you’re connected to each other.”

“You’re saying this dude linked us for life?” Stiles questioned.

“No he can’t create that kind of bond; he can merely show it to you,” Deaton gave a reassuring smile. “It’s like the emotional tether, but stronger. You two have been moving on this path for longer than either of you realize. It’s destiny. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you last night, but it’s not something you tell people. They have to figure it out for themselves. I assumed you had since the metaphysical manifestation subsided.”

“But we can still see it,” Lydia chanced her voice not looking directly at Stiles even though she could feel his eyes on hers. “I mean what’s that supposed to mean.”

“Maybe you’re supposed to,” Deaton shrugged heading out of the waiting room and towards the back of the clinic.

“So” Stiles broke the silence. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

She couldn’t help the nervous laugh that escaped her lips. “Yeah, who would have guessed it?”

“Probably literally all of our friends,” he said, moving a little closer. “I mean I have been into you since grade school.”

She rolled her eyes, finally meeting his. “You barely knew me back then.”

“I knew enough,” he reached for her hand and she let his fingers slip in between hers. “What about you? I mean you find me annoying, and hit me sometimes repeatedly.”

“That’s because you’re infuriating,” she countered with a smile.

“Hey you are no picnic.” He pulled her in wrapping his hands around her, with a grin. “But I mean I could think of worse people to be stuck to for all eternity.”

“Will you stop stealing my lines and get your own.”

“Okay, how about this,” he leaned down letting his lips fall to hers. Lydia didn’t hold back wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, bringing them as close as possible.

There was no movement either, only Stiles who'd glance over to look at Lydia every few moments. And Malia, who's head turned when Stiles did because she was staring at him. Scott shifted uncomfortably in the cramped jeep, he was shoved in next to Liam, Kira and Malia.

Lydia gave it her best effort to not squirm under Stiles gaze that kept landing on her. Along with Malia's. And sometimes Kira and Scott. But she remained in her frozen spot, trying to ignore the eyes that were all wondering about what happened back in Mexico. She didn't really want to explain to anymore, especially the whiskey eyed boy who she needed to the most. She just couldn't right now.

Unfortunately, fate wanted her to. Because at that exact moment, after hours of uncomfortable silence, the jeep started sputtered and moaned, screeching to a stop slowly.

"What's happening?" Scott asked as the same time as Malia did.

All eyes flashed towards Stiles, focusing on him to tell them the source of the problem. Even Lydia's eyes lifted as their speed slowed down. She even let herself glance at Stiles for a moment in the mist of panic before she diverted her eyes down to the jeep's dashboard, immediately spotting the problem. Just like Stiles.

"I think...we're out of gas."

"What?" Scott asked while Malia chewed him out.

"How could you have not filled the tank?!"

"This was kind of a last minute thing. Kira and Scott were kidnapped and I wasn't thinking about filling up on gas and getting a drink." He shot back, exhausted.

Malia sat back, grumbling underneath her breath.

"What are we going to do?" Kira piped up.

Scott sighed, "Braeden and Derek are only a few minutes behind us, we can ask them to get us some gas."

They all nodded in agreement, none of them having a better plan. They each climbed out of the jeep and into the nearly pitch black night in the middle of the Mexican desert. Again. Lydia huffed as she did her best not to shiver but it was a useless effort. She was not only terrified but since it was dark, the temperature was dropping quickly, causing her to regret her skirt choice. Then again, Stiles had said it before, this wasn't a planned trip.

She took a deep breath and leaned against the side of the jeep, next to Kira, while Scott and Stiles were discussing how far Derek and Braeden were behind them. Malia was off to the side, shouting that there was no cell phone service. She had only had her phone for roughly 3 months and she already couldn't live without it.

Finally they saw a light and Derek and Braeden drive up and stop. Scott explained their situation and they'd promise to come back with gas as fast as they could. "Just try to not die. At least until we get back." was Braeden's best advice.

"Easier said than done," Lydia mumbled.

"What would you know about not dying?" Malia muttered bitterly, "You nearly committed suicide a few hours ago."

Lydia stiffened but did her best not to let it show how much the jab effected her. She just caste her eyes down and kept them glued there.

"Malia-" Stiles started.

"What? Are you going to defend her again?" The coyote shot.

"Guys. Calm down. The last thing we need to do is fight." Scott calmed, Kira nodded in agreement. While, Malia rolled her eyes at them.

They all waited a few minutes, Lydia kicking at the sand while she leaned against the bright blue jeep.

"What are we suppose while we wait?" Kira asked, while a animal howled in the distance somewhere causing Lydia to jump.

"What? Suddenly so afraid of wolves?" Malia mumbled at Lydia under her breath, that being the 3rd time she had jumped.

"I'm going to take a walk." Lydia shot out before Scott could reply to Kira or scold Malia. She walked off briskly, not being able to handle Malia's glare at her.

"Don't go jumping in front of attacking werewolves." Malia bit at her, going to take Lydia's spot as she walked off.

Lydia turned around, doing everything her best not to shout at the girl. "I'll try." She meant for it to sound sassy but her voice was thick and broke on the last word, but she stalked off before anyone could say anything.

Stiles tried though, "Lydia, wait." But it didn't slow her down at all.

-

After she made her way far enough away from everyone, she let a few tears slip out of the corners of her eyes. Doing her best to collect herself, although she didn't see why she had to. She was exhausted, covered in dirt and dust while her hair was matted with sweat along with her skin which was a major contrast to the cool air.

But still, she tried. And failed every time the moment (the same moment Malia made jabs about) flashed into her brain again, only few hours earlier.

Everyone was fighting. Scott was trying to fight Kate, while Liam and Kira were against a berserker. Malia was trying to stop Peter from getting close to them. Them being Stiles and Lydia, the only two who couldn't fight because they didn't posses supernatural abilities (well, Lydia does, but not any that could help her against something with claws).

"We should do something," Lydia mumbled.

"We can't. I don't even have my baseball bat," Stiles huffed. Any other time, Lydia would've laughed at the comment shortly.

"We can't stand here and watch our friends get killed." She looked around, trying to do something. Something caught her eye, hoping it was a vile of wolfsbane, but it was on the other side of the room. "I'm going," She muttered to Stiles and made her way over to the other side of the temple.

"Lydia! You can't just-" He protested but Lydia was gone anyway, and now a berserker was in his way.

Unfortunately, what was a vile of wolfsbane happened to be empty and now Lydia was trapped on the other side alone on the temple. While Malia was thrown on the opposite wall by Peter, now shattered on the floor.

Stiles shouted Malia's name, bringing Peter's attention to him. As Peter stalked over towards Stiles, Lydia knelt down by Malia.

"You still don't want the bite?" Peter was saying to Stiles. "I don't even think you'd survive the bite, Stiles. You're too weak for it." Stiles backed up a little but refused to show any fear. "Maybe I should do you a favor and kill you right here."

Lydia was helping Malia sit up, "Are you okay?" she was asking while Malia nodded, telling her that her healing powers were kicking in as they spoke. Lydia nodded, assesing the fight in front of her. Until she saw Stiles being cornered by Peter.

She instantly stood, her legs taking her Stiles direction without any consent from her mind. She was on the same wall as Stiles, looking over to see if there was anyone not fighting (there wasn't). That didn't slow her down, instead her pace increased as she tried to get closer.

That didn't slow down Peter as he was closing in on Stiles, Lydia was only a few feet away now. Peter raised his claws up, about to swing at Stiles.

"STILES!" She cried, breaking out into a sprint. She got there as Peter was about to hit him, crashing her body into his and pushing him out of the way. Her scream loud enough to freeze everyone who was fighting to turn around and stare at them, stunned.

No one knew what to do, Stiles tumbled over after Lydia's pushing him out of the way. Peter froze, staring at Lydia in awe due to her bold move, while Lydia looked like she was awaiting the feeling of claws digging into her skin.

"Now, that's interesting." Peter was saying. "First Stiles was willing to die for you, now you're willing to die for him." He mumbled, clearly getting delight out of the situation. "Look how the table's have turned." He laughed cynically. "It's such a shame I have to kill you, Lydia. This will really devastate Stiles. Especially when he begged so hard to save your life a little less than a year."

Lydia was now staring at him, like Stiles, she refused to show him any fear. Peter was going to scratch her, his claws inches away from her, until Malia attacked him. Then, just like that, everyone went back to fighting while Lydia's eyes locked with Stiles frantically.

That was all Lydia could think about now. What she had done, why she had done it. The only thing that pulled her from that scene was the sound of foot steps behind her.

She spun around, because in the middle of the night in the Mexican desert you'd have no idea what could come up behind you, only to see Stiles there holding his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine," Lydia replied, dreading his appearance. She knew exactly why he was there and what he wanted to talk about. "What's up?"

"I'm sorry about Malia," Stiles tried. "She can be..."

"You don't have to apologize. I thought she wasn't your girlfriend anymore?" Lydia asked, remembering that they had broken up a few weeks ago.

"She isn't!" Stiles rushed out the words, "But I still feel responsible for her." He shrugged.

Lydia nodded, "Don't worry about it. She has every reason to be mad." Malia really didn't but Lydia thought she did.

"No she doesn't." Stiles quickly said. "She should be grateful," He paused. "Like I am."

Lydia licked her lips, knowing exactly where the conversation was going. "Stiles, we don't have to talk about this..."

"Yeah Lydia, we do." He stared at her for a moment while he eyes were glued to the ground. Before he took a breath, "Why'd you do that?" He finally whispered.

She looked up at him, "Do what?"

"Lydia, don't do that. You know what I'm talking about."

Lydia chewed on her lip for a minute, before finally answering. "He was going to kill you. I couldn't let that happen..."

"Yeah but Lydia, you realize you almost got yourself killed in the process, right?" There it was. She recognized his tone, it was the same reason he was mad at her last year after the lacrosse game. She was actually expecting the lecture. "Lydia, if it wasn't for Malia, you'd be dead right now! Do you know what that would've done to us, Lydia? To me? I can't believe you still don't care about getting hur-"

"I don't regret it." Lydia whispered, interrupting him smack in the middle of his rant. Also freezing him in mid-sentence.

"Wha-at? Lydia, how could you not regret what you did? You could have died!" He pressed, his face was a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"You could have too." She shrugged, standing up straighter. "Stiles, if it wasn't for me, you'd be the one dead! And we'd be the ones having to grieve another person! How do you even think your dad would feel? Or Scott, or Malia, or me? None of us know how to live without you, Stiles! So that's why I did what I did. And I don't regret it one bit."

Stiles stared at Lydia for a moment, before he seemed to get just as angry as she was. "What about you, Lydia? If you were the one that died today, how do you think any of us would get on with our lives? What about your mom? Or Scott, or Kira, or Malia? Or Me?" Lydia looked up at him, "You know how I feel Lydia! I've told you before, you dying would make me go out of my freaking mind! And you still don't care about it!"

"I remember the lecture." She interrupted, again.

"Then why'd you risk your life like that?!"

Lydia had finally snapped. "You still don't get it?! I did it for you! Because I love you, Stiles!" She didn't even realize she was crying until she felt the tears slipping out of her eyes. She wasn't sure if she was crying about the thought of loosing Stiles or the fact she'd let the cat out of the bag about her feelings for him.

"Lydia..."

"I'm going to go see if Braeden and Derek came back yet..." She briskly walked past him, trying to flee.

"Lydia, you can't just walk away after you told me you love me!"

She froze in place and turned, "Then what do you want me to say?"

"Some elaboration would be nice." He still looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"What do you want me to say, Stiles?" She asked again. "That I love you so much, my heart beat increases by a million whenever you look at me? Or that whenever I see you with Malia my heart breaks into a billion little pieces? Or that I feel so badly for the way I treated you that the guilt practically eats at me every night? Or that ever since I kissed you that day in the locker room, all I want to do whenever I see you anymore is kiss you again?" She knew she had probably said too much, but she hadn't been able to stop herself. She took a deep breath, "Is that what you want to hear?"

Stiles stared at her for a full minute, opening, closing, and the re-opening his mouth again, but he was at a loss of words. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, so many things he wanted to know. But his mind didn't even give him a choice before he made his way over to her and kissed her.

Lydia froze for a moment, clearly not expecting him to kiss her. Her shock melted away as she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck as he moved his arms around her waist.

Lydia pulled away first, unwillingly, and stared up at him. "What was that for?"

Stiles smiled, yes he actually smiled, and Lydia couldn't remember the last time he had. "Lydia, I've been in love with you since the first day of the 3rd grade. It was sort of a crush back then, actually. But then when we became friends, and I learned everything there was to know about you, like you hate it when movie theaters are too cold or you like singing along with the radio when you're in the car, then I knew I was in love with you." He was staring straight into her eyes now, his whole speech caused Lydia to tear up again. But instead of sad tears, which she was all too used to, they were happy tears that matched the smile that looked permanently etched on her face. "And I'm done with wasting any more time." He said, before kissing her again.

"Stiles? Lydia?" Kira's voice echoed, breaking the two apart. "Oh, um, sorry." She awkwardly apologized, "I didn't mean to interrupt, but Derek and Braeden are back..."

"Thanks Kira," Lydia smiled at her as she walked away awkwardly.

"Um, Kira." Stiles called out at her, causing her to turn. "Did Scott and Malia happen to over-hear what, um, happened?"

"Every word." She gave them a nod. "Sorry." She tried to smile encouragingly as Lydia and Stiles looked over at one another as Kira walked away.

"Ready to go face them?" Stiles asked, as if they had another option.

Lydia pushed herself up on her tiptoes to peck Stiles on the mouth once more, before breaking the kiss nearly as quickly. "Yeah." She nodded, although she didn't really look like she was.

Before making it home, her mom’s cell rang. It was Sheriff Stilinski asking her to come down to the station to answer a few questions. Natalie was hesitant, being that she had just been released, but Lydia insisted.

“I’d rather get it over with now,” she said as they pulled into the sheriff station’s parking lot.

A smile crept on to her face when she noticed Stiles’ jeep a few spots away, as the boy in question stumbled from the driver’s side.

“What would be the chances of you letting me do this solo?” Lydia asked, grabbing her purse. “I mean it’s probably just a bunch of boring follow up questions, and you can’t tell me you don’t have stuff to get done or papers to grade.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not just going to leave you with no way home.”

“Stiles can give me a ride,” she pointed to him through the window, and he smiled waving at them.

Her mother grew quiet, as she looked at Lydia, placing a hand on her cheek. “We haven’t talked about this; we never really seem to talk about things. But I was so scared when you were gone. Honey I thought I had lost you. You are my world, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you again.”

“Mom, I can’t promise that nothing bad is going to happen, I wish I could,” she fought the tears back, knowing her mother would never let her out of the car if she started to cry. “But we can’t live like any time I walk out a door, or want to go outside, that I won’t come back.”

“I know, but it’s going to take me some time.” But she nodded pulling back as she rolled down the window. “Stiles, would you mind giving Lydia a ride home after she meets with your father?”

“I can do that,” he smirked coming over to Lydia’s side, and opening the door for her. “Hey, long time no see.”

“Yeah.” She wanted to wrap her arms around him, or at least lace their hands together, but not here, not while her mother was watching. It was getting hard enough to dodge the questioning looks about her attachment to Stiles; she didn’t need to add to it.

Natalie sighed looking over at the two of them. “Okay so, this should only take you about an hour right?”

“I guess,” she shrugged, getting out of the car.

“Okay then, Stiles I want her home right after. No detours, no runs for coffee. Got it?”

“Of course Mrs. M,” he smiled again. “I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

“You better,” and Lydia had to stifle a laugh at the look her mother shot Stiles, even more so at his face in return.

“When did your mother become so terrifying?”

She smirked taking his hand when she was sure her mom had driven far enough away that she couldn’t see. “Where did you think I got all my death glares from?”

“Ah so it’s hereditary. That’s good to know,” he said as they walked towards the building. “I am sorry I couldn’t spend more time at the hospital.”

“I understand, it’s kinda hard when security kicks you out,” she nudged his side when they made it to the door.

“Hey I was being stealth.”

“I’m sure you were,” she replied. “I’m also sure it looked more like a flailing gazelle.”

“Hey you should be nice to me, or I won’t go and get you a Reese’s out of the vending machine.”

She placed her free hand over her chest. “Oh I am so sorry, please forgive me.”

“You’re lucky I like you. You make fun of everyone like this?”

She scrunched her face shaking her head. “Just the ones I really like.”

“I guess I’m the lucky one then.”

“Yep.”

She knew his eyes were still on her, but she couldn’t meet them, not directly. They were treading in dangerous territory with such ease. Maybe this was how it had always been with him, the back and forth bantering and the ability to make each other groan and smile in the same millisecond. Everything came so naturally with Stiles. She never felt like she had to hide or be anything more than what she was. And maybe that scared her even more than the idea she could lose him.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, just want to get this done and over with. Go home and,” she paused, everything flooding back into her head. “Not relax because of course there’s another supernatural threat in Beacon Hills. Do you think the town has, like a monthly quota it has to meet?”

“Don’t worry about that. Alright the pack can handle it,” he replied. “Besides you heard your mom. She’s worried about you.  So just sit this one out.”

“Are you joking right now?” She crossed her arms, trying to make herself tall which was damn near impossible in these stupid flats. “Because it didn’t feel like your usual sarcastic comment.”

“I just think it would be best if you took yourself out of it. You’re not invincible Lydia, okay? And Scott and Derek can sure as hell handle one paranormal bump on their own.  You don’t need to be involved anymore.”

“I know I’m not like the rest of the pack, but I’m not useless okay? I’m not going to go home and read a book when innocent people could be dying,” she glared. “You don’t know what it feels like, when I scream and I know it’s because someone died, or is going to die.”

“You could have died,” he snapped. “They took you and they could have killed you. What makes you think they won’t finish it next time?”

She bit her lip, moving closer. “I don’t need your protection and furthermore I don’t really want it either.”

She didn’t mean it. She knew before she let the words slip that she didn’t, but the look that passed on Stiles’ face told her he believed her. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from him.

“Hey guys,” Parrish greeted with a hint of hesitation. “I feel like I’m interrupting something, but the sheriff asked me to grabbed Lydia. Do you two need another minute?”

“No,” Stiles said, finally looking away. “I’ll be out here when you’re ready to go.”

She watched as he walked off, a pang growing in her chest.

“What was that about?” Parrish asked.

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” she turned way stalking off towards the sheriff’s office.

--

She didn’t say a word to him when she got done with his dad, or when they got into the jeep. He knew he shouldn’t have snapped at her. Lydia was kinda predictable when it came to others making assumptions on her behalf and he knew better than to do that. But he thought after all this time they were at least in the same chapter about how they felt, that maybe when Lydia looked at him and smiled it meant more than just friendship. Who was he kidding, Lydia was always going to be unattainable, even if she showed him all her faults and let him see her crack under the pressure, he still wouldn’t be enough to hold her.

She leaned forward clicking the radio on, as she slid a glance in his direction.  He recognized the song, something Lydia had played for him a million times in a row one day. And he could see her signature smile creep into place.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not being able to take their silence any longer. “I know you’re not useless. I know you have these abilities and you just want to help people with them. I do. And I guess sometimes it’s easier for me to pretend like I’m not the weakest link in the chain.”

“Stiles—”

“No,” he sighed trying to focus his thoughts. “It’s okay. I’m not like the rest of you. My eyes don’t glow, I don’t have supernatural strength, or quick reflexes, and I don’t get warnings when people are about to die. But I care about you and Scott, and everyone else. Mostly just you and Scott though. I just want to keep you safe. And I’m sorry that you felt like I was over stepping or like I was being overprotective. I just don’t know how to not care what happens to you.”

He pulled into her driveway then placed the jeep into park, but Lydia made no move get out. She just stared at her garage as the song pulsed through the speakers. Lydia loved the part that was currently playing so he assumed she just wanted to finish the song.

“Maybe we could the start of something,” she said along with lyrics coursing through the small space. And before he could question her words she leaned over kissing him.

Unlike the last time their lips touched Stiles wasn’t struggling for breath, so he reached his hand forward, placing in on her cheek as their kiss deepened.

He couldn’t be sure how long they sat like that, probably a couple of minutes, maybe longer. All he knew is it felt like eternity and an instant all at once. And he would have happily continued kissing Lydia, if it wasn’t for the rapping at the passenger side window. They both looked over Mrs. Martin’s face an odd mix of amusement and annoyance.

“Great, it’s going to be a little hard to convince her you’re not my boyfriend after this.”

“Maybe you should tell her I am?” he smirked as she opened the door.

She leaned in placing a quick peck to his cheek. “Maybe you should ask me first? See you tomorrow.”

Lydia wished she could say seeing a familiar face was great, a refreshing reprieve from the revolving faces of hospital staff she didn’t care to learn the names of. But the fact was she didn’t have much trust for Ms. Morrell. Lydia still hadn’t forgotten what Stiles told the pack about their encounter in Eichen House and found that the woman wore too many face to hold much of the banshee’s trust. Objectively she could understand the emissary’s point of view, but given the fact that Deaton did everything in his power to help Stiles, she really couldn’t see where Morrell’s loyalties lied.

“The longer we sit here not talking the longer you’re away from your friends,” Morrell noted catching Lydia’s gaze. “The doctors just want to know you’re okay.”

“Then tell them I’m fine so I can get the hell out of here,” she glared. “We both know I don’t need therapy.”

“Maybe, but don’t you think after everything you’ve been through you owe it to yourself to talk about things?”

“Talking about them won’t make them better,” she countered, pursing her lips. “And the longer I’m here, the more risk there is for my friends.”

“I know you want to help, but sometimes before you can help others you have to help yourself.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, focusing her attention towards the window. “Is that the emissary credo? Risk others while you sort out your own stuff?”

“Think of it more like when you’re on an airplane and they tell you that you should secure your mask before helping others. Do you know why do they say that?”

“Because there’s a greater risk of you passing out while trying to help,” she said still not looking over. “And you’re no good to anyone if you’re dead.”

“It’s interesting how well that analogy can be applied to other situations,” Morrell shifted in her seat, leaning closer. “I know you don’t trust me, you’re body language alone tells me that, but it’s my job to help when I’m needed. And Lydia, I’m not sure you realize how much help you could use. You’ve lost people; people you cared deeply for, you were thrown into this other world with a force not many survive, and you’re still standing. But you have to be willing to help yourself or nothing you’ve endured will matter in the end.”

Lydia had a retort poised on her tongue, ready to cut Morell’s comments down to size, but she stopped. The light from the window seemed to catch on something from the corner of her eye, and gleamed bright enough for her to turn her head. She saw it like a picture developing under chemicals, pulling itself more into focus. A pendant wrapped in delicate silver loops, glowing and simmering with blues and purples. She looked up, as more started to appear before her. A girl appeared before her the necklace sat just at her throat, the chain just brushing against the edges of her copper brown hair. Silver eyes staring back at the banshee, like they held secrets not even the girl could comprehend.

“Lydia.” She pealed her gaze away focusing back on Morell.

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head.

“You seem distracted by something,” the emissary looked at her like she could read the thoughts running across Lydia’s brain, but that didn’t mean she was going to share.

“You’re right,” Lydia made sure her smile held no contempt as she met Morell’s gaze. “I need to start taking care of myself. And if you can convince them to let me go home, I’ll even promise to come to you once a week. But I cannot stay here one more night.”

Morell gave her a nod. “I will see what I can do. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I will be,” Lydia replied. And she would, because now she knew who the people who took her were after. She just had to find the girl before they did.

--

On a scale of one to twenty, twenty being the dumbest thing he could ever come up with, Stiles knew his plan was at least a thirty. But what choice did he have really? Lydia would never remove herself from things if she knew someone’s life could be on the line. So he had no choice.

Dr. Fenris walked with him until they reached the end of the hall. “I shouldn’t let you down here. Do you realize how dangerous this is?”

“I thought you had his system pumped with wolfsbane?” Stiles focused on the door in front of him. “And besides he’s the only one who can help me.”

“Just because someone can help doesn’t mean they will, or that you should take it.”

Stiles raked a hand through his hair with a sigh. “I appreciate the concern, but I don’t have another choice.”

“I’m only giving you ten minutes with him,” the doctor said as he reached forward and unlocked the door.

“I need at least an hour. Please, you’ve heard the man talk, it’s gonna take me ten minutes to get him around to the right subject.”

The doctor sighed looking tired. “Fine thirty minutes, not a moment longer.”

“Okay, deal.” He nodded and stepped into the room. It looked different than he imagined less like a hospital and more like Silence of the Lambs complete with a psychotic prisoner.

“Well,” Peter Hale swung himself from the bed, coming closer to the glass wall. “To what do I owe the visit Stiles?”

He gritted his teeth, only a sentence out of the man’s mouth and Stiles already wanted to deck him. “I need you to tell me all you know about gypsies. And I need you to tell me now.”

“Because of you and your alpha friend, I’m now the proud resident of what I can only assume is not a government sanctioned ward in a psychiatric hospital. I constantly get thrown into an adjoining cell with a crazed man with a third eye, and you should hear the screams at night.” He slapped his hand against the glass, a low growl from passing his lips. “So really tell me, why would I help you?”

“Because you love it when people owe you favors,” Stiles moved closer. “And if you help me, I’ll owe you one.”

“Fair enough,” he smirked. “Now it was gypsies you said.”

--

Lydia found that there was no greater negotiator than her mother. In fact if she let her continue, Natalie would probably have talked the hospital into throwing in lunch in the cafeteria.

“Seriously Mom I just want to get out of here,” Lydia groaned as she slipped on a pair of flats. It must have been the first pair of shoes her mother saw when she entered her closet, because they both knew how much Lydia detested being shorter than 5’4”. “I mean I think I’m starting to smell like hospital.”

Melissa had wandered up with another stack of discharge papers a smile on her face. “It’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

Lydia smiled back as she pulled her hair into a tight ponytail. She’d done it three times already, taking her hair down and then putting it back up again. It’s something she had done a lot shortly after her parents separated, a nervous tick, but once she’d grown conscious of it the actions had ceased. She’d be willing to bet it had to do with the girl, or well both girls. In her mind they looked to be about the same age, but Lydia could tell they were at least a generation apart, and connected. There wouldn’t be a reason for her seeing both of their faces in the same day if they weren’t. She wasn’t sure how, but she had to find out anything she could on them. One of them was already dead; she wouldn’t let the same thing happen to the other.

She looked back, noticing both her mother and Mrs. McCall looking at her. “Sorry zoned out. What?”

“Melissa was just telling me how she was surprised Stiles wasn’t here. I didn’t realize you two were so close?”

Lydia knew her mother well enough to know when the woman was fishing for information. So instead she turned back to Melissa. “I would have called him but my phone was lost while I was… away, and someone didn’t grab the charger for my new one.”

“Sorry if I was a little preoccupied, my only daughter coming home and all,” Natalie nudged her arm, but was still smirking. “Seriously though what’s going on with you and him?”

“Nothing we’re just friends.”

“Ah,” her mother raised a brow. “I remember the days of ‘just friends’ with boys.”

“Oh god, I’m going to walk away now,” Lydia held her hand out. “Can I borrow your phone for a minute?”

“Sure,” Natalie said, dropping the device into her hand with a wink. “Tell Stiles I said ‘hello’.”

She rolled her eyes at her mom, walking a little ways from the two women. She didn’t want either to overhear any of her conversation. Not that Melissa wasn’t well versed in the supernatural, but she couldn’t very well explain it to her mother now could she?

She clicked in Stiles number, not really sure when she’d committed it to memory, and waited for him to pick up.

--

His phone flashed Mrs. Martin’s name, and without even picking up her knew it was Lydia. But he couldn’t very well answer at the moment, not when he was sitting across from Peter. So he clicked it over to silent, slipping it back into his pocket.

“By all means, take your call if it’s more important than our conversation,” Peter rolled his eyes. “I mean you did come to me remember?”

“Yea and for the last twelve minutes you’ve given me not a damn thing I could need or want to know about gypsies,” Stiles said.

“Oh you wanted relevant information? I thought we were just exchanging tales,” Peter smirked. “Now why don’t you shut up, I’m getting to the good stuff.”

Stiles glared, but settled back in his chair waiting for Peter to continue.

“Now where was I? Ah right, the gypsies come in tribes, much like the werewolf comes from a pack. They’re loyal people, traditional, highly volatile when angered. But most importantly they’re the only ones who learned how to harness the energy of the earth.”

“Energy?”

“Some call it magik. But it’s more than cheap parlor tricks,” Peter explained, grabbing a book from his table. “It’s life; it’s the wind above us, the ground below. It’s everything, and they taught themselves how to use it.”

“Okay fine, then why take Lydia? Why would they need a banshee if they have so much power?”

“Because being able to harness and manipulate life energy means nothing, if someone took secrets to the grave.”

“They took Lydia because they wanted information from some dead guy?”

“Guy, girl? Who knows, but Lydia isn’t like other banshees, you know that. Look at Meredith? She was driven crazy by the voices in her head and now has a permanent home here at Eichen House. But Lydia? She thrives in her power, she’s connected in a way no other banshee before her has ever been. That’s why they took her.”

“But they let her go because they got what they wanted.”

“Did they?” Peter opened his book, flipping the pages idly. “Or did they let her go because she could do more for them out in the real world? Think about it Stiles? Wouldn’t Lydia serve a greater purpose if she could lead them directly to whom or what they’re looking for?”

“They think she’ll take them right to this person.”

“I’d say the person is a girl, young girl to be more specific,” Peter added.

Stiles groaned. “And what you make you think that?”

“See the Pink Moon is upon us, and well remember how I said the gypsies were people of tradition? Every hundred years or so they perform a ritual under the Pink Moon to renew their power. They say that if the ritual is not completed before sunrise that night the tribes’ lose access to the energy.”

“Let me guess you know what the ritual entails don’t you?” Stiles glanced at his watch, nervous that Peter would stall the last bit of their time, and he’d still have no clue how to help.

“Well I don’t want to brag but, I knew a girl once who was a little loose with her tongue in more ways than one.”

“Oh my god, I so do not need this kind of information. If you’re reached you max of helpful words I’m gonna go.”

He stood from the chair, moving towards the door.

Peter snapped the book shut the crack echoing so loud Stiles could help but turn. “If their looking for a young girl, then you might want to make sure they never find her. The ritual isn’t just a ritual. It’s a sacrifice. Every hundred years they sacrifice the oldest child born of the youngest born to the Elder tribes Priestess.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“It means that the tribes are broken up into categories of strength. The Elder tribe elects a Priestess when her youngest daughter has her first child that child is sacrificed. There are no negotiations, no skipping a year. By sunrise on the next full moon, that girl will die.”

“And you care?”

“Not even a little bit,” Peter shrugged. “But I am a man of my word. You asked for the information I had and I gave you it.”

“With a little too much detail,” Stiles replied with a shudder.

“Anyway I just want to make sure you’re also a man of your word?”

“What you want to cash in your favor so soon? I figured you’d wait at least a couple of months on that.”

Peter smiled, sighing. “I just want your promise, that if and when the time comes, you’ll remember how helpful I was. So no matter what I ask or when I ask it you return the favor in kind.”

He hesitated near the door, trying with all his energy to even out his heartbeat.

“Come on Stiles, it’s like you have anything to worry about while I’m in here right?”

“Fine,” he said. “What the hell sure, I’ll return the favor.”

“Good, I’m glad you came today. It was nice to catch up,” Peter reclaimed his seat as Stiles made his way to the door. “One more thing, if you don’t mind. How’s Malia?”

“She’s fine,” Stiles said before closing the door behind him.

He didn’t leave her side that first night, even though Scott's dad insisted he was breaking about a half dozen hospital rules. Mrs. Martin conceded that as long as Stiles slept in the chair next to the bed he could stay. And it’s not like he was unaccustomed to sleeping on hospital furniture.

She had a nightmare a few hours after they drifted, screaming about emeralds burrowing into her skin, and it took him a good minute to calm her down completely. It wasn’t even until he placed his hand on her cheek that she realized where she was.

The doctors and her parents decided to admit her for the evaluation anyway. Despite her desperate plea to her mother and father. He hated listening to her voice breaking with each word, and he had to clench his fists together to keep his anger in check. But in the end he knew she could use a few days of being looked after by people who did this on a daily bases. He just hated the fact that it meant he had to leave her.

“You said you wouldn’t let me go,” she stated and he couldn’t help but smile at the hardness returning to her voice, it’s like the Lydia he knew was coming back in full force.

“And I’m not,” he replied wrapping his hand around hers. “But I can’t very well fight off your parents, a full hospital staff, and my father’s whole department.”

He was glad they were alone, he hated when he had to share their moments with so many on lookers. He preferred it when it was just the two of them.

She looked up to him. “What if they think I’m crazy? What if I never get out of here or worse they send me to Eichen House?”

“That’s not gonna happen. Alright it’s gonna be a few days of relaxing, getting your head a little shrunk, and then you’ll be out, back at home and school,” he smiled placing a kiss on her cheek. “And besides, just because I’m not allowed to see you, doesn’t mean I can’t find a way around that.”

“I don’t want you getting into trouble.”

“Lyds, I’m the sheriff’s kid I’ve been in trouble since the day I was born.” She smiled and he could help the joy that coursed through him. “I promise, this is gonna be nothing. Remember when you get out of here you have like three weeks’ worth of homework to catch up on.”

“More like I’ll be right on schedule,” she shrugged. Playing with the hem of his plaid over-shirt she somehow conned him out of already. “Stiles what if whatever they did to me, what if it changed me? What if it drove me crazy?”

“If dealing with half the stuff you’ve already dealt with in this town hasn’t driven you insane, a couple of weeks with whatever happened to you won’t do it either.”

“How come you seem so sure?”

“Because,” he smiled again lifting her chin with one finger. “If there’s one thing I’ve always been sure of it’s that Lydia Martin is the fiercest, smartest, and strongest person I know.”

She raised a brow with a smirk. “That’s three separate things, fyi.”

“See already back up to high caliber sass.” He stood from the bed, already hating being away from her. “You take the week and get to feeling better, while the rest of us try to figure out what these guys wanted you for.”

“I bet Malia will be glad to have you back,” she noted casually, but he could hear the shift in her voice.

“If Malia could pry herself off of Liam long enough to notice me sure,” he laughed at her confused look. “We broke up the night of the party. Apparently she’s into lacrosse players who can actually play the game.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head with a shrug. “No trust me it’s cool. Don’t get me wrong she’s great, but I don’t think we were meant for each other. “

Lydia opened her mouth to reply, but before she could the door swung open, Melissa on the other side with a grin. “Okay I’ve already given you two way too much time already. So for the sake of my job can you say your goodbyes, and head to school, Stiles.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he quipped leaning back down to kiss Lydia’s forehead. “It’s not goodbye though, because I’m never saying goodbye to you.”

“Good,” she whispered as he pulled back. “Because I’m not saying goodbye either.”

“Later Lyds,” managed to squeak out as Melissa pushed him from the room, and he could still hear Lydia’s laugh echoing in his head hours later.

--

Lydia loathed hospitals. It was the starch white walls and the clean smell. It never reminded her of healing, more like death waiting to happen.

She hadn’t seen Stiles in days, and according to Mrs. McCall he was actually barred from the building unless seriously injured. It was irritating not being able to be near him, and she had to keep reminding herself it was only temporary.  But the longer they were apart the more Lydia started to actually feel what her time away had done to her.

Images kept slipping into her mind of a girl no more than a couple of years older than herself. Lydia could feel it every time her face popped up that she was long dead, more than a decade or so. But that’s not what brought her to Lydia, at least not the only reason. She could feel something else when she saw the woman’s face, a longing and a sadness that she couldn’t place.

“Lydia?” she turned towards Melissa as the nurse walked up with a smile. “How you doing?”

“Ready to get the hell out of here,” she countered with a smirk. “Something tells me you’re not giving me the all clear though.”

“Well a doctor would have to do that, and they’re not going to until you talk with one of the counselors.” She took a seat next to Lydia. “But the nurse on this floor told me you’ve been refusing to see one.”

“I’m not crazy. I don’t need doctors or treatment. I need to go home, see my friends.”

“I get it, I do,” Melissa replied. “Everyone needs to talk about their feelings Lydia. All of you could benefit from some time just talking about things.”

“And exactly how would I explain my situation to a counselor? I can’t really throw the banshee thing around to just anyone.”

“What if I could find you someone who could understand your unique circumstance?”

Lydia raised a brow. “You have a counselor versed enough in the supernatural for me to talk to?”

She watched as Melissa turned her head towards the door, and she followed her gaze, as Marin Morell walked through the door.

“Hello Lydia,” Ms. Morell smiled looking at her. “Long time no see.”

--

“I’m going out of my mind,” Stiles groaned as he dropped onto the couch next to Braeden. She nodded flipping through the magazine in her lap. “You know they actually had me escorted off the premises today? Can you believe that?”

She turned to meet his gaze. “What are we talking about?”

“Never mind,” he replied, crossing his arms as he looked around the loft. “Where the hell are Scott and Derek anyway? Scott told me to meet the two of them here like twenty minutes ago.”

“Derek said they had to track down a lead,” she shrugged, with a smirk. “Probably just got held up.”

“And you didn’t tag along?”

She gave him a pointed look, causing Stiles to scoot away just a tad. “One, I don’t tag along anywhere, and two, Derek’s under the impression I don’t play well with others.”

“Ah a match made in heaven then. I bet you two have loads to talk about what with your proclivity towards violence and anti-social behavior.”

“I have about six feet of rope over there and a roll of duct tape,” she pointed across the room. “Keep talking and see what my proclivity towards violence makes me do then.”

Stiles gaped at her, but decided against a comeback. Braeden wasn’t the type to enjoy his banter. Luckily for him the loft door slid open, Scott and Derek entering the space.

“Finally,” Stiles groaned. “We need to have a better check in system for the entire pack. You guys are like half an hour late.”

Derek rolled his eyes as he came over to drop a kiss on Braeden’s lips, before resting on the arm of the couch.

“I thought you we’re going to see Lydia this afternoon?” Scott asked coming closer. “I mean you did duck out of practice early for that reason alone.”

“I was told that it would be better if I leave for the afternoon.”

Derek was smirking. “So you got kicked out of the hospital?”

“Shut up,” he replied, turning back to Scott. “So anything?”

“Deaton thinks he knows who took her, Derek and I went with him to track them down.”

“And who does the great doc think took her?”

Scott gave him a hesitant look, and Stiles knew that his friend was trying his best to word things properly. He turned back towards Derek instead.

“Who took her?”

“Deaton thinks it was a family of really old magik users. Some people like to refer to them as gypsies,” Derek explained, shooting a glance at Braeden as she took wrapped a hand around his. “These kinds of people, they’re not like anyone we’ve ever faced. If they’re the ones who took Lydia, they did it for a reason, to use her power to find something, or someone. And since they let her go, they probably got what they needed.”

“Then Lydia’s not the one in danger anymore,” Stiles concluded.

Scott shook his head biting his lip. “No but she’s the only one who can tell us who is.”

“No,” Stiles stood crossing the room. “No, I’m not gonna put her in the middle of this.”

“She’s already in the middle of it Stiles,” Scott grabbed for his arm keeping him in place. “And we both know if someone’s life is in danger Lydia would want to know, she’d want to help.”

Chapter Three

“This is a bad plan,” Scott noted as they walked down the hall further into the hospital.

Stiles scoffed at his friend. “Come on name one time any of my ideas failed us.”

“Do you really want me to answer that honestly? Because we have ‘The Triangle Conspiracy’, “the hero’s revenge’, and the ‘I don’t have a name for this plan’ plan.”  

“You have a very loose definition of the word one,” Stiles replied glaring. “And all we need to do is get close enough to the exam rooms. It’s a piece of cake.”

“What’s a piece of cake?” Stiles jumped turning at the sound of Melissa’s voice.

“Melissa, how are you this evening? You’re looking lovely.”

“Seriously did you break one of my windows again?” Melissa sighed and her look was almost enough to have Stiles smiling.

“No Mom,” Scott broke in, holding up a take-out bag. “Actually I was just bringing you some food.”

“And Stiles tagged along because?”                                

Stiles let out a few coughs as he patted his chest. “I’m actually not feeling very well.”

“Oh really, any symptoms other than the cough?” she raised a hand placing it against his forehead.

“Um, some aches, and chills.” He bit his lip trying to look as weak and pathetic as possible.  “Also a lot of chest congestion.”

“Any ear pain?” She questioned moving closer.

“Now that you mention it yea, just a little.” He nodded, leaning in closer to her. Which he realized was a huge mistake when Melissa grabbed both him and Scott by their ears pulling them off to the side.

“Ah, Mom, why?” Scott groaned once she let go.

“Did you really think your father wasn’t going to call me the second you left the station?” She gave Stiles a pointed look. “You two aren’t exactly sleuthing masterminds.”

“We just want to know if Lydia’s been found,” Scott pleaded fixing his mom with his best sad face. “And if she’s alright.”

“You know I can’t tell you anything,” she sighed, glancing over her shoulder. “And even if I could tell you anything, I don’t know much.”

“Meaning, what? Lydia’s not here?” Stiles whispered.

“I mean if she is here, she’s hasn’t said a word since being admitted. Or at least not any that tell us where she’s been or who she’s been with.”

Stiles’ nerves were already running on high, but he figured any news on Lydia would at least calm them. No such luck. “Well when was she hypothetically brought in?”

“A quarter after six,” Melissa replied, and he knew the look on her face. The same look she used to keep from letting her job affect her too much. “I’ve tried to talk to her but she just curled up against the wall muttering about not knowing something. We’re waiting for her parents to get here now.  After that the doctor’s going to want to admit her for a psych evaluation.”

“Lydia’s not crazy,” he raised his voice louder than he meant, and Scott had to place a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. “She’s not alright.”

“Stiles I know that. But what would you like me to tell the doctor? That my son and his friend are pretty sure she was kidnapped because she’s a supernatural creature? I’m pretty sure they’ll schedule my psych eval then.”

“Look I just need a few minutes with her,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to stop the fidgeting. “I know I can get through to her, if I can just see her. Five minutes, please.”

 Melissa looked around again, nodding towards the hall to their left. “Look I can’t stop you from going down that hall to room one eleven in about two minutes when the nurse shift change happens. Nor can I stop Scott from calling his father to get the man away from the door to said room. “

He smiled at her. “Thank you Melissa.”

“For what? If you get caught I had no knowledge of this.” She grabbed the bag out of Scott’s hand with a smirk. “Thanks for dinner boys.”

They waited for her to walk off before Scott, pulled out his phone.

“Your mom is greatest,” Stiles mused as Scott hit the call button.

“Yea, yea. Just get ready. You know I hate lying to either of my parents.”

“Huh,” he smirked leaning against the hall doors. “I find it oddly exhilarating.”

“That’s because you’re a terrible person,” Scott muttered with no malice whatsoever.

--

They finally left her alone, and for once that day Lydia could hear herself think.  She could feel the movement in her chest as she let in another breath trying to calm down. She had tried everything to bring herself out of this one, but it wasn’t working. Whatever they were doing to her now, it was something different than before, and it terrified her that she may never get out of her own mind. That she’d never see her mother or father again.

That she’d never hear Scott or Kira’s overwhelming optimism or Malia’s brash realities. And then she thought of Stiles, of his sweet face and sarcastic smile. She longed to be with him again, to feel his strong arms pull her close and reassure her she was safe.

But the longer she was away from home the more she felt like she’d never see them again. She wanted to stay strong, she really did, but she had no way of knowing how much longer they would take her pleas of ignorance. And Lydia feared what would happen if they figured out she couldn’t help.

The door to her room creaked open, and Lydia did all she could to shield herself from the newest occupant. She didn’t care who they tried to duplicate this time, what phantom of her life they were convinced could make her cooperate. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of looking up.

“Lydia,” his voice cut through her. And she had to shake it off, because of course. Of course they’d finally reach that part of her. The part she closed off and buried. She knew what would happen the second they used him, she’d cross through heaven and hell just to keep him out of this.

“No,” she whispered crossing her arms around her knees. “No, he’s not here, he’s not real.”

She could feel the bed shifting as he sank down next to her. His hands playing with the thread bare blanket bunched near her feet. But he made no moves to grab her, to touch their hands together. She couldn’t tell if she was grateful or not for that. Maybe they were smarter than she gave them credit for, knowing there was no way to mimic Stiles completely so they didn’t even try.

“How are you?” he asked pain edging his voice, and it was enough for the tears to spill from Lydia’s eyes. Because even if she knew he wasn’t her Stiles, she still never wanted to hear his voice that broken, that far from the boy she knew.

She tried to hold them back or even to will them back into her sockets, but it was no use. They were running down her cheeks and she couldn’t stop.

That’s when he leaned in, not too far into her space, but enough for her to freeze. She couldn’t predict what he was going to do, what they’d make him do to her.

But all he did was drag a single knuckle across both cheeks, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I always thought you looked really beautiful when you cry.”

It hit a memory deep within her. One she’d never shared with anyone, not ever Allison. Something from long before she ever started giving Stiles the credit he deserved. She couldn’t help but look up, meeting his amber eyes. And she knew he was real, because no one, not a single person in the entire world could ever duplicate the look in he would get when they were together.

She launched herself at him wrapping her arms tight around his neck, and it only took a second for him to respond, holding her just as close as the last time she saw him.

It was enough to send another wave of tears as she buried her face in his shoulder. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I was starting to get a little worried too,” he confessed smoothing a hand down her back. “But you’re here now. You’re safe, and I promise you I’m not letting you go again.”