Title: The Dark Side of The Moon
Authors: Sxymami0909 and Xtremeroswelian
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Stiles/Lydia, Isaac/Allison, Scott/Kira, Derek, Deaton, Sheriff Stilinski,
Timeline: Season 3B
Banner: By Sxymami0909
Summary: The ritual is done, but the consequences aren't over. The door inside Stiles' head is still open and they're running out of time to get it closed. Lydia's powers are growing and Derek might hold the key to a link in her past. With Stiles slowly losing his mind and Lydia being the only person who can help him keep it together, the pack is in a race against time to help their friend. Will they be able to close the door in time or will Stiles be lost to them forever?
Previous Chapters: | One |
Allison showed up at Lydia’s house bright and early the next morning, feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time. She had two cups of coffee in her hands as she let herself in with the Martin’s spare, hidden key and made her way through the familiar house. She knew Lydia’s mom was out of town, some kind of work convention. It seemed like her mom spent more time away than she did at home, which probably went a long way toward explaining Lydia’s cool facade that she put on for anyone who didn’t really know her.
With a pang she thought of her own mother, not that she’d been an upstanding example of parenting, but she was still her mom. “Lydia, I brought coffee,” she called, nudging the door to Lydia’s bedroom open with her foot and freezing in her tracks at the sight in front of her. Lydia was curled up asleep in bed and...Stiles Stilinski was sprawled on the floor beside said bed, face down in a pillow with a blanket strewn haphazardly over him.
Okay. That was an interesting twist. She arched an eyebrow, wondering what was going on. Maybe the two had fallen asleep studying or something the previous night, but Allison didn’t see any textbooks laying around anywhere. Either they were the neatest study-buddies in the world or something else was going on.
Lydia groaned and shifted beneath the covers, her leg sliding out and into the cool air swirling around the bedroom. Her brows drew together and her nose scrunched up at the familiar sound of Allison's voice. She was exhausted, but she forced herself to open her eyes letting them flutter until her pillow came into focus.
Lydia tilted his head and glanced at the clock the red numbers blaring at her burning eyes. God, it was too early to be awake and yet Lydia knew it was Monday morning and they had to get ready for school. Some days she seriously wished high school was done and she was on a college schedule, one she made herself.
She turned over on her back and then sat up slowly covering a yawn as she spotted Allison. Lydia arched a perfectly sculpted brow, “You’re looking chipper this morning.” She commented her voice raspy with sleep.
“Sleeping without dreaming about one’s dead aunt will do that,” Allison returned, moving carefully around Stiles’ form which hadn’t budged and sitting on the edge of her best friend’s bed. She handed her one of the coffees and took a sip of her own. “Do I dare ask about this?” she asked, her voice teasing as she motioned to Stiles.
Lydia took the coffee gratefully and brought the steaming disposable cup to her lips taking a long sip as her gaze drifted to Stiles. They hadn’t fallen asleep until close to four in the morning and two and a half hours wasn’t nearly enough sleep. Lydia was going to have to go heavy on the makeup today, luckily it was something she was used to.
She glanced at Allison, the worry from last night back on her face when Allison’s words registered. “You didn’t have any dreams last night? Nothing? No almost shooting people either?” She asked while leaning forward making the blanket fall to her waist and exposing her light blue nightgown.
Allison cocked her head to the side, frowning a little at the questions. “No. I slept fine for the first time in weeks. No nightmares.” She held her hand up, holding it flat so she could show Lydia that her hands weren’t shaking like they had been for so long. They were steady as could be.
“And no almost shooting anyone, thankfully.” Even now, though, the thought that she’d almost killed Lydia with one of her arrows, and then almost shot Isaac made her shudder involuntarily. “Why? Did you have nightmares? Is that why Stiles is here?”
Lydia hesitated her eyes darting to Stiles prone form. She could hear a light snore coming from him and her lip twitched at the corner. But the smile was short lived. Her grip tightened around the coffee and she caught Allison’s gaze. “Not me,” she nodded at Stiles, “Him. But that isn’t why he’s here. Something happened last night.”
Lydia hated being the bearer of bad news, but she supposed ripping the bandaid off was better than dragging things along. “I woke up screaming last night...the scream. You know, Banshee, death omen, and all of that.” She said while reaching out and resting the coffee on her bedside table.
Allison’s eyes widened a little and she her coffee down, too, reaching out and resting a hand on Lydia’s arm. “Did you guys find something?” More specifically, had they gone out and found a body? She wondered why no one had called her, because she was usually on the call list when it came to her friends finding dead bodies. “Lydia, are you okay?” There was worry in her voice.
Lydia’s eyes went to Stiles again before she motioned toward the bathroom. She threw the covers off of her and dropped her legs to the floor before standing. She rummaged around in her closet before pulling down a deep wine colored dress and waving Allison over as she walked quietly into the bathroom. She waited for Allison to make her way inside as she started washing her face and brushing her teeth.
So that would be a no. Immediately Allison was worried as she followed Lydia into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her quietly and leaning sideways against the sink, watching her friend intently. “Okay, what is it?” She kept her voice quiet still, because it felt like they needed to be quiet.
Lydia shut the water off and wiped her face. She turned to face Allison and this time the fear she’d been doing her best to hide from Stiles last night showed. “It’s Stiles. I think…” she swallowed heavily. Her throat felt dry despite the fact that she’d just had a mouthful of water.
“I think my scream was for him,” her words were quiet and the knot in her stomach was growing by the second. “The feeling I got was different, like a warning. I was conscious of it this time I think and then when I touched Stiles.” Lydia’s voice cut off. What she felt from Stiles last night had scared her to the core, a fact she hadn’t shared with him. But she knew she had to share it with someone and Allison was her best friend.
Allison’s heart sank at her friend’s words. Lydia thought Stiles was in trouble. That he was going to die. That was definitely not good. “Okay.” So this was different, but workable, she thought. It also meant that Lydia’s powers were doing something different, but she didn’t figure now was the best time to mention that. Not when she was clearly worried about the boy in her bedroom.
“I’ll call Scott and Isaac, and we can start brainstorming. If something or someone is after Stiles, we won’t let it or them have him.” It was as simple as that. She trusted Lydia’s instincts.
Lydia sent Allison a grateful look before running a hand through her hair. She was glad she didn’t need to convince Allison. Her friend trusted her instincts and Lydia was glad. “Okay, also,” she paused hating what her next words were going to be, “Has Scott heard from Derek or Peter?” She made a face at his name.
Lydia didn’t like Peter, but who could blame her. He did maul her on a football field. But he also seemed to know a bit about the whole Banshee thing and she was pretty sure Derek did too. She’d rather talk to him than Peter, but Peter was the one who asked her about her feelings and showed her how to focus so she could understand what they meant.
Allison studied Lydia for a moment, then shook her head. “Not that I know of. I know he was trying to contact Derek when we were looking for Malia, hoping Derek could guide him a little through the alpha transformation, but…” She sighed. “Derek never returned his call.” Which didn’t really surprise her that much. It wasn’t like Derek and Scott were close friends. They worked together when they had to, and that was about it. As far as she knew, Derek and his sister were far away and never coming back. As for Peter, she had no idea what the creepy werewolf was doing. She didn’t have a lot of warm and fuzzy feelings for either of the Hales, but if this was Stiles’ life on the line, she’d set aside her personal feelings about them and do whatever they needed to in order to save him.
“Maybe someone else could try though,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe if Isaac called him, he’d be more apt to answer.”
Lydia nodded, “Maybe.” She shook her head and tried to be a little more upbeat. “I’m going to get dressed and try to make it look like I got more than two hours of sleep. I’ll wake Stiles up after that. Do you want to call Scott while you’re waiting, that way they know to meet up with us during free period?” She asked as she turned back to the sink and placed her dress down on the counter before pulling out her make-up box.
“Yeah, I’ll go do that,” she told the redhead, pushing herself away from the sink. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and reached for the door handle, pausing and then looking back at her friend once more. “We’re not going to let anything happen to Stiles, Lydia.” Her voice was quiet, confident.
Lydia caught Allison’s gaze through the mirror, “No, we’re not.” She told her friend matter-of-factly. She would protect Stiles if it was the last thing she did. Nobody messed with the people Lydia Martin cared about and got away with it.
There was some kind of irony in the fact that the morning after he found out his death was looming on the horizon, he still had to drag himself to school and go to class. He was the first one in the classroom and he was unable to stifle a yawn as he made his way to his seat and slumped down in the chair, shutting his eyes. He’d spoken with his dad briefly that morning after Lydia had woken him, just to assure his dad that for now, at least, he was okay and still alive. How much longer that would last was anyone’s guess.
He wasn’t sure if he was glad that Lydia had some kind of warning this time or not. Was it better to know about what was coming even if you couldn’t do anything about it? He knew she believed they could stop it, and he wanted to believe that, but after everything, he just didn’t have it in him anymore. He was tired.
He heard footsteps approaching and he pried one eye open to look over at the doorway, not surprised to see Scott approaching and dropping into the chair beside him. He nodded at him, yawning again. “Hey.”
Scott gave Stiles a once over and cocked his head to the side. “Dude, you look like you didn’t sleep at all last night,” he said as he pushed his books to the corner of his desk and turned his body so his feet were in the aisle. For the first time in a long time Scott had not only gotten a good night’s rest, but he hadn’t seen his shadow growing wolf parts in the middle of crowded areas. And when his Dad had stopped by that morning before school he was even able to control the urge to cut his throat open, and without changing. His Mom and been proud. He felt better, finally.
But Allison’s text had worried him. “What’s going on?” He asked his gaze darting to the front of the classroom to make sure the teacher wasn’t there yet.
Stiles shifted in his seat and drew in a breath, opening his eyes to look at his best friend. How exactly did one break the news of their impending death to the guy he’d looked at as a brother for the majority of his life? He tried to smile but it came out more of a grimace than anything. He knew that Allison was going to text or call Scott that morning, but he wasn’t really sure how much she’d clued Scott in on already.
“You didn’t hear Lydia last night?” He kept his voice low just in case anyone else happened to walk in early. Like for instance, Finnstock.
Scott blinked as realization dawned on him. He leaned forward, “That was Lydia?” He should have realized it, but the scream had barely woken him up from the dead sleep he was in and Scott was pretty sure he hadn’t processed what it really was at the time. It had been a long day and finally feeling normal had caught up with him and he’d passed out, sleeping heavier than he had since nearly dying to help their parents.
“Did you guys find a body?” He asked quietly, “Why didn’t you call?” He asked. He could have helped, or more actually found the scent of blood. He couldn’t imagine how Lydia was feeling if she found another body. It had been hard for her last time and it had been hard for his best friend to see Lydia hurting.
“We didn’t find a body,” he assured Scott. “We would’ve called if we had.” He paused. “She said it was different this time. That it felt different. She doesn’t think anyone’s dead yet.” Yet being the key word. He sighed a little and resisted the urge to lay his head down on the desk and shut his eyes. When he’d passed out at Lydia’s early that morning, he hadn’t dreamed at all, thankfully.
“She said it felt like something was coming.” For him, specifically, but he didn’t say that. No reason to freak Scott out first thing in the morning. Their free period was in a couple hours and this was the first time he’d seen his best friend relaxed in awhile now. He deserved that. He was always running around trying to save and protect everyone and stop evil alpha werewolves and darach’s and whatever else came their general direction. A couple hours wasn’t going to make any difference anyway.
Scott frowned. That was new. Lydia’s powers must be growing, something else they were going to have to deal with. But something seemed off with Stiles other than the fact that he looked like he was going to fall over any minute. Scott had known him for a long time and something wasn’t right. “Are you okay?” He asked as the teacher walked into the classroom, the sound of his shoes hitting the ground drawing Scott’s attention to the front of the room briefly before he glanced back at Stiles and slid his legs beneath his desk.
Stiles was a world of not okay, but there wasn’t time to talk about it right then. He just nodded instead, rubbing a hand over his face. “Tired. Long night,” he admitted, figuring Scott would just assume that was because Lydia had called him. That had factored in, of course, but it was far from the whole problem at hand. He glanced up at Finnstock and tried to sit up a little straighter in his chair, opening his notebook and staring at it for a moment as he spotted the page where he’d written wake up over and over again all over, crowding out all the white space on the page. He flipped to the first new blank page and uncapped his pen, chewing on it.
Scott watched Stiles for a minute, his brows drawn together, but his friend stayed focused on the front of the classroom and he let out a small sigh as he grabbed his notebook and opened to a clean page. He could see something was wrong, but Stiles obviously didn’t want to talk about it. He’d wait until their free period, but once they were all together he’d get answers and make sure his friend was okay.
Derek gripped the sliding door to the loft, his bag thrown over his shoulder and tugged it aside until the metal door stood open. He stepped forward standing in the doorway a frown on his face. He’d only been gone a few weeks and yet after the last few days he spent getting fried with high voltages because of his idiotic Uncle, Derek was glad to be home. With Cora gone needing her space after losing Boyd and dealing with everything that had happened in the last few months, Derek was once again alone. Well, aside from Peter.
Speaking of his Uncle, Derek could hear him shuffling behind him in the hallway and he rolled his eyes and stepped further into the apartment taking in the desolate room. He swallowed hard doing his best not to think of the memories that were trapped within these walls. He stepped further into the room and dropped his bag to the ground. “I really need to do something with this place,” he commented his tone bored as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone.
After being freed from their electricity happy captives Derek had seen close to ten missed calls from Scott and knowing he wouldn’t have called unless something was wrong, Derek made his way back to Beacon Hills. He turned when he heard footsteps enter his apartment and arched an eyebrow. “You’re still here?” He asked as he scratched the back of his head.
“Apparently,” Peter said drily, moving to drop down onto the sofa in the back of the room. He poked at the cushions. “And yes, your interior decorating skills could use some finesse.” He watched Derek study his phone. “Apparently someone’s also been missed.” There was no mistaking the smirk in his voice. He pulled his own phone out and saw that he had no missed messages, on the other hand. Oh well. There wasn’t anyone he really missed here anyway. He set the phone down beside him on the cushion.
“Let me guess. It’s one of the many teenagers you’ve befriended, begging you to come back to Beacon Hills.”
Derek sent a glare in Peter’s direction. Every time he tried to make some kind of connection with people, friendship, romance, Peter always tried to belittle that connection and make him push it away. But Derek was done with that. After everything that happened with Jennifer and Deucalion he respected Scott. He’d come a long way in the three years Derek had known him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but something is wrong. Scott wouldn’t have tried to get in touch with me otherwise.” Derek admitted.
That fact shouldn’t make his chest tighten the way it did. He kept himself apart from the rest of group because he wasn’t good at getting close to people. All it did was make him vulnerable. Then again, that wasn’t always a bad thing. Derek shook himself out of his thoughts and sent Scott a text message letting him know he was back in town and apologizing for missing his texts. He would explain in person.
Derek slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned to face Peter crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t think you’re staying here, do you?” He asked while lifting his bag off the floor and heading for his bed.
"Of course something is wrong." There was still a smirk on his face as he leaned back on the sofa farther, looking up at the ceiling. "It's Beacon Hills, Derek. What did you expect? There's always going to be something wrong." He was truly surprised his nephew hadn't learned that yet. History always repeated itself, and it would continue to do so until the end of time. It was the way of the world.
"Of course not. I do have my own apartment." He was almost offended by the insinuation. "I'm simply catching my breath after finally getting back to our home town."
Derek nodded to the door. “Well now that you’ve caught your breath you can go. I’ve got to get unpacked and clean up.” Not that there was much to unpack, though he did need to unload the container he’d retrieved and put it somewhere safe. And a shower probably wouldn’t hurt. Derek rubbed the back of his neck as his gaze traveled to his Uncle still resting comfortably on his couch. “What?”
"So rude," Peter commented, not really bothered by it. "We're family. We should really consider sticking together, Derek." Nevertheless, he pushed himself to his feet, grabbing his phone once more and heading for the front door. "You just enjoy that solitude and your...teenagers." He smirked.
Derek turned away from Peter and winced. He didn’t need a reminder that he’d cut himself from pretty much everyone. At least this time he’d left on good terms. “And you have fun enjoying the sound of your own voice.” He said drily. “I’ll call you if I need you.” Derek said as he unzipped his bag and started tossing clothes out of it.
Stiles really didn’t want to be having this meeting at all. He didn’t want to see the look on Scott’s face when his best friend learned that Stiles was going to be dying soon. He knew that his friends would do whatever they could to save him, to keep it from happening, and while he appreciated that, he was terrified that whatever was after him would wind up getting one of them instead. And that would be so much worse than his own death.
He’d been to so many funerals since he was eight years old, starting with his mom’s. His mom, his aunt Sarah, his grandpa. Various officers that his dad worked with. Erica. Heather. Boyd. That horrible night that Scott had drenched himself in gasoline and held a flare in his hand. It had been one of the most terrifying moments of his life. Then Jennifer Blake kidnapping his dad.
He’d come so close to losing the three most important people in his life in a matter of days: Scott, Lydia, his dad. The idea that one of them would put themselves into unnecessary danger for him didn’t sit well with him. It made him feel nauseous. He paced back and forth in the empty classroom, trying to figure out how he could stop any of them from doing something stupid.
Lydia made her way down the hallway, books in hand. She could hear other students around her walking by, talking, laughing, but it sounded far away. She couldn’t seem to focus her mind on anything but Stiles. All day she’d been going through the motions, answering questions, doing equations, snarking at people who pissed her off, but it was all for show.
Inside her heartbeat was irregularly fast and her thoughts were a mass of dark images and feelings of unease. Lydia hated not understanding her gift, not understanding what the feelings meant or what exactly they were warning her about. Stiles was in danger, but from what? From who? Lydia sighed as she spotted the classroom they were meeting in the door slightly ajar.
She pulled it open a little more and stepped inside pausing when she spotted Stiles pacing back and forth. “Hey,” Lydia put her books down on one of the desks and closed the distance between her and stiles. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor.” She commented with half a smile, trying to ease the tension out of him, it was the least she could do, after all his mood was her fault.
At the sound of her footsteps, he turned to look at her, noticing that for as beautiful as she looked, she also looked tired. His own tiredness was now null and void because he’d taken an extra Adderall that morning after his first class when he’d almost fallen asleep. Now he was just on edge. It was a vicious cycle of side effects, really.
“Probably. But look at the floor. It’s crappy. If I wear a hole in it, it’d be an actual improvement and they could lay a new one down instead. I’m literally saving the school.” He smirked faintly and rather than resuming the pacing, he moved over and sat down on the heat vent. The urge to pace was still present, but he didn’t want to worry her anymore than she already was.
Stiles leaned back against the window. “Thanks for letting me crash last night, by the way. Or...this morning, actually.”
“Any time.” Lydia said and meant it. If she was being honest, she was glad he’d stayed. This feeling that seemed to be sticking around, the underlining one that let her know something wasn’t quite right worried her and having Stiles around, knowing he was okay actually made her feel better.
She sat on one of the desks across from him and tapped her nails against it. “This meeting is pointless. Scott and Isaac are going to ask a ton of questions and I don’t have any of the answers.” She wished she did, but Lydia knew it wasn’t that simple. “Not pointless,” she corrected realizing that was harsh, “Just frustrating. I wish I could help more.”
His chest tightened at her words, not surprised they were thinking along the same lines, even if she’d changed her wording to make it all sound less futile. He was silent for a moment, watching her tap her nails on the desk. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he said quietly. “Okay? It isn’t your fault.” That much he knew was true.
Stiles chewed his thumbnail, one foot bouncing on the floor. “You’re right, though, they’re going to have a lot of questions.” Questions that no one was going to have answers to. That was frustrating, and it very much felt like it was all an effort in futility. Like they were just fighting battle after battle with no end in sight overall.
Lydia studied Stiles for a minute taking in the worry on his face and tension in his body before huffing. She didn’t need to be in his head to know what he was thinking. “I need something from you.” She said quietly as she crossed her ankles and studied the boots on her feet.
His eyebrows raised at that. “Uh. Like, what? A blood sample? Because I don’t do needles, Lydia.” At least his sense of humor was still somewhat in tact.
Lydia glanced up and sent him a look, “No, smartass you can keep your bodily fluids for the moment,” she said as she met his gaze and pressed her lips together momentarily. “I need you to be honest with me and I need you not to give up.” Lydia used her hands to push herself up of the desk and she walked back and forth in front of Stiles.
“Protecting you, helping you, none of it is going to work if you push us away and I will tell you this Stiles Stilinski if you so much as push me away,” she paused in front of him and pointed a finger in his face, “I will kill you myself. Got it?” She said sternly.
He had the decency to look properly chided and he looked down as she got to her feet and moved to stand in front of him. He exhaled, glancing back up to meet her eyes. He couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest at her words, and he wondered when the hell he’d become important enough for her to care that much. He didn’t ask. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said solemnly. Also she was damn scary when she was being fierce. He loved her for it.
Lydia smiled, she opened her mouth to commend him for listening to her when there was a loud noise outside the door. She turned in time to see Scott stumble into the room, his backpack strewn on the floor behind him.
Scott shook his head, how he managed to trip on his backpack he’ll never know. He glanced up and spotted Lydia and Stiles. Scott grinned, “Hey guys, sorry it took so long I had to stop off uh out there.” He pointed to the hallway. The truth was he’d stopped to talk to Kira not able to ignore the way she’d been looking at him. She was nice and new to the school. Plus, she was gorgeous.
Scott dropped his bag on the floor and hopped over one of the desks until he was standing near Stiles and Lydia. “No one else here yet?” He asked with a frown figuring Allison would have beat him there since her class was closer.
“Just the three of us, Dude,” Stiles greeted, offering him a small smile. “At least so far.” He figured Allison had probably already pulled Isaac aside somewhere and either filled him in or the two were making out in the janitor’s closet or something. It wouldn’t really surprise him. They’d been getting closer lately, and even though it annoyed Stiles because Isaac had completely broken bro-code, he knew that feelings changed all the time. Just look at Scott. He was pretty sure that his best friend’s interest no longer lie in Allison Argent, but in the new girl, Kira. She seemed nice, and sweet, and smart. Kind of socially awkward, but hell. Stiles could relate to that.
He’d had one friend most of his life and that was it. Stiles knew all about social awkwardness. He also kind of sensed that Allison and Lydia neither one liked Kira that much, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was some kind of girl-code. Like, you can’t possibly be friends with your best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend, and honestly he didn’t even know why he was thinking about any of this when he was actually on death’s doorstep. His brain, man.
Scott glanced between Lydia and Stiles and scratched the back of his head. “So what’s going on guys? Why the urgent meeting?” Scott glanced at Lydia, “Stiles said you screamed last night, but there wasn’t a dead body.” His lip quirked, “That’s a good thing right?” He asked.
Lydia bit her bottom lip and glanced at Stiles not sure if he wanted her to start explaining before the others got there.
Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, glancing back at her for a moment, then shifting his gaze to Scott. “Lydia thinks the feeling she got is...about me,” he admitted, not wanting to make the guy wait any longer than he had to. He raised his eyebrows. “So the meeting is basically trying to figure out what that is and how to stop it.”
Scott frowned, “About you,” he said slowly before his gaze travelled to Lydia. “You think,” he paused, “You think Stiles is going to die?” He asked barely able to get the words out of his mouth. That couldn’t be right. Lydia had to be wrong. Why would anyone want Stiles dead, if it was even a person. “Maybe you’re wrong. You’ve got to be wrong.”
Lydia’s chest tightened at Scott’s words. She’d told herself the same thing several times that day, but she knew what she felt and she it got louder when she was around Stiles. Her stomach knotted and anxiety welled inside of her. “I know what I felt,” she said keeping her voice calm. “We need to think about this rationally. Wouldn’t it be better to be safe than sorry?”
Scott crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back and sat on one of the desks in front of them. “I guess so,” he paused, “What do you think man?” He asked glancing at Stiles, though he knew what his friend was probably going to say.
Stiles pursed his lips, leaning back against the window and folding his arms across his chest, as well. “I think Lydia’s feelings have always been pretty spot on and I believe her,” he admitted quietly. And he did. It was why he kept alternating between terror and numb acceptance of whatever was coming. He was certain she was right.
“You and Allison both slept okay last night, right? No nightmares?” His voice grew even more quiet now, and he looked down at the floor. “Because I didn’t. Sleep okay. I’m still having them. They’re as bad as they’ve ever been. So whatever…” He motioned vaguely with one hand. “Maybe you guys shut the doors in your mind but the one in mine...I don’t think it’s closed.”
Scott’s eyes widened. “You didn’t close the door?” Fear suddenly slammed into him. He remembered what Deaton said about how dangerous it was to leave their minds open. “How is that possible I thought we fixed it the other night, you said you could read again and that you were feeling better.” Did Stiles lie? No, Scott shoved the thought aside immediately. If he had known something was wrong he would have told him. “If that’s what it is, we can fix it. Allison and I did, you can too.” He said earnestly.
Except he didn’t know how. But how was he supposed to tell Scott that? Why hadn’t he been able to close the door when both he and Allison had? He raked his fingers through his hair, exhaling slowly and looking back down at the floor as he heard Isaac and Allison approaching, making him fall silent once more. He snuck a glance at Lydia.
“Hey guys. Sorry we were late. We ran into…” Allison hesitated, glancing at Scott and then Lydia. “The twins. They’re outside the school.”
Stiles grimaced. “Probably waiting to punch Scott’s face in again,” he said bitterly.
Scott’s brows drew together, “They were trying to help,” he said diplomatically not giving Stiles or Isaac a chance to speak when he saw both of their mouths open. “That doesn’t mean I trust them, but it helped in the end right?” He asked before shifting his gaze to Allison and bringing the conversation back to the point of their meeting. “Did you fill Isaac in on what’s going on?” Scott knew she’d been spending a lot more time with him lately and figured she probably did.
Stiles rolled his eyes at Scott’s statement, folding his arms across his chest, body tenser now than before. Of course TweedleDee and TweedleDumb were still lurking around. They needed an alpha and Scott was the only one in town. Douchebags, he thought bitterly before chewing on his thumbnail once more.
“Yeah, I filled him in,” Allison admitted. “So what do we do? What’s our first step?”
Scott straightened up. “We need to figure out how we closed the door in our heads.” He said simply even though he knew it wasn’t that simple. Nothing ever was, he thought. “Something must have happened yesterday without us even realizing it that helped us close the door,” he explained as he darted his gaze around the room.
“If we figure it out we can help Stiles close the door in his head.” It sounded like the best plan they had even though Scott wasn’t sure how they were going to go about it.
Lydia was listening to Scott as she leaned against the window beside Stiles, “What do we do until then?” She asked knowing that if it was the door in Stiles head that was doing this it was going to be dangerous for Stiles until it was closed.
Allison glanced at Isaac. “He shouldn’t be alone,” she said, turning her attention to her best friend. “Someone needs to stay with him, probably around the clock, just in case.” She looked at Lydia.
Stiles frowned, not particularly pleased with that suggestion. “Round the clock babysitters. Awesome,” he grumbled.
Lydia reached out and rested a hand on Stiles arm. “No one thinks of it that way,” she said softly. “You are our friend,” she told him trying to fight back the urge to hug him to give him some comfort. “We don’t mind standing by you,” Lydia glanced out at their friends. “Do we,” she said pointedly the look on her face saying if anyone contradicted her they’d be in trouble. Not that they would, everyone loved Stiles.
Allison cut a glance at Isaac, who looked like he wanted to protest and she gave him a look. “No, of course not. It isn’t like you haven’t saved all of our lives, Stiles. We’re not going to let anything happen to you. Right, Scott?”
Stiles shifted slightly, closer to Lydia without really thinking about it, and looking down at her hand on his arm, turning his hand slightly and covering hers with his own for a moment before letting go, falling silent.
Scott reached out clasping his hand over Stiles shoulder. “Right. You’re a member of this pack,” he said resolutely as he squeezed his friends shoulder. “And we protect each other.” Stiles had saved the day on more than one occasion, but more than that, Stiles was his brother, blood or not.
Stiles looked at Scott silently for a moment, nodding even as his chest tightened. “Yeah.” He drew in a breath, looking at Allison and then Isaac, uncertain. “Okay so then we need a plan.” He was usually the plan guy, so asking everyone else what the plan was? Was kind of a strange feeling.
Lydia nodded. “Scott can talk to Deaton, see if he knows anything that might help us.” Her gaze drifted to Allison, “Maybe you can look over the beastiery and see if there’s anything in there about keeping the darkness of the mind at bay.” She dropped her hand from Stiles’s arm and stood.
“Isaac you can keep an eye on Stiles in the classes you share, Scott too. At night maybe you guys can switch off,” She suggested realizing she was taking charge of the situation.
Scott cut off her next words, “I got a text from Derek in my last period,” he said reaching for his phone, “He’s back in town so he can probably help too. And maybe,” he hesitated, “Maybe we should get the twins involved.” He said even though he knew Stiles and Isaac wouldn’t like that idea. The more people around the less chance that something would happen to Stiles and that was all that Scott was worried about.
Stiles started to protest right around the time Scott mentioned Derek, but as soon as he mentioned the twins, he shook his head vehemently. “Nope. No way. They are not coming to my house, ever.” His voice was matter-of-fact. “I don’t trust them, Scott. They killed Boyd, and they tried to kill you and Isaac and they tried to kill Derek and -- no. Just no way.” He folded his arms across his chest.
Allison considered his words for a moment, knowing Isaac felt the same way that Stiles did when it came to the former alpha twins. “Stiles can always crash at our place. I mean, between my dad and I, he’ll be safe. So that’s another option.”
Lydia knew Stiles could probably stay with her too, it wasn’t like her Mom was around a lot. She could even go to his house, she’d been spending a lot of time there anyway and Mr. Stilinski had always been kind to her. But something made her keep that to herself. She nodded, “That’s definitely another option. No reason to involve the twins. But Derek might be an asset.” Plus he might know something about her Banshee screams and she was going to need all the help she could get if she was going to help keep Stiles safe.
“I’m sure Sour Wolf will be thrilled to be on bodyguard duty,” Stiles said wryly. If he would even agree to it. It wasn't like Stiles was his favorite person in the world. Pretty far from it, really. He glanced sideways at Lydia. “But I guess that’s enough of a plan for now, right? I should be okay til the end of the school day at least.” Assuming he didn't just drop dead or something.
Lydia wished he would stop saying things like that. It made her want to slap the moroseness right out of him, but she refrained. Lydia knew he was scared, she was too even if she didn't plan on admitting it ever. Lydia Martin didn't do scared...well okay she did, but only in certain cases. And this wasn't going to be one of them. She needed to be strong for Stiles, the way he was always strong for her. “As far as I know you'll be fine,” she said dryly.
Scott laughed softly trying to diffuse the tension. “At least you haven't lost your sense of humor,” he said with another squeeze of Stiles’ shoulder before dropping his hand. “So we're good with the plan here? I'll talk to Derek later today after school. Should we say anything to my Mom and what about your Dad?” He asked addressing Stiles.
Stiles blanched visibly. “No. No, I don't think -- I don't want to freak him out.” And he was pretty sure this would freak him out a lot. Then again, he was going to have to tell him something, if only because people were going to be invading his house or him invading other people’s houses. His face was paler now than it had been moments before, even though he probably should have anticipated that question.
Allison looked at him worriedly. “We can tell my dad, though, right? I mean, he’ll keep a secret and he can help.”
“Stiles breathe,” Lydia said quietly, “We should tell your Dad,” she said to Allison even though her eyes were still on Stiles. “He can help, but Stiles is right Mr. Stilinski doesn't need to know right now.” She knew it was hard for Stiles dealing with all of this and bringing his Dad in would only make the panic worse for him.
Isaac shuffled his feet, not exactly happy about having to babysit Stiles. Things between them lately had been frosty and he wasn't quite sure why. “So how do we explain hanging out at Stiles house then? Slumber party?” He asked shortly.
Allison sighed softly, folding her arms across her chest and looking at Lydia.
Stiles gritted his teeth involuntarily. “Scott and Lydia both hang out at my house a lot, so it won’t even seem unusual.” Well, except if Lydia planned to stay the night. That would be unusual. But he wasn't about to say that out loud because he pretty much doubted that was going to happen anyway. “I’ll just tell him there’s some wolf related thing going on.”
Lydia mashed her lips together, “Great,” she stood, “End of meeting,” she said with a flourish, “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I've got to make sure I’m not late to my next class.” She stood and glanced over at Stiles, “Walk me?” she asked knowing he needed a break and figuring everyone needed some time to get their ducks in a row.
“Gladly.” Stiles exhaled as he followed her out of the classroom and down the hall without looking back. This was turning out to be a really long day. And not in a good kind of way.