March 1, 2014

The Dark Side of The Moon 5/14

Title: The Dark Side of The Moon
Rating: R
Authors: Sxymami0909 and Xtremeroswellia
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Stiles/Lydia, Isaac/Allison, Scott/Kira, Derek, Deaton, Sheriff Stilinski,
Wordcount: 99,326
Timeline: Season 3B
Banner: By Sxymami0909
Parts: 5/12
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 | Two | Three | Four |

Chapter 5

Lydia stared at the open book in front of her, eyes roaming over the endless sea of words on each page. Her finger curled around the edge of the page and she sighed. She couldn’t focus. How was she supposed to study for a stupid Biology test when so much was going on. It had been two days since Stiles and Scott spoke to Deaton and Lydia hated to say it but Stiles wasn’t looking great.

Scott had stayed with him the past two nights and while there hadn’t been any more physical manifestations of Stiles’ dreams, there were nightmares. She had offered to spend the night last night, but Stiles told her it wasn’t necessary he’d be fine. That was his answer to everything lately and it was really starting to grate on her nerves.

Lydia was all for being brave and noble or whatever Stiles thought he was doing, but she cared about him and she wanted to help. Lydia let out a long breath and turned the page with a flutter trying to focus on the next page covered in words. She was so involved in actually trying to focus that she didn’t hear footsteps as someone walked up behind her.
“Hey, Beautiful.” Aidan dropped down onto the bench beside her, smiling at her. He looked all too pleased with himself, all too casual and expectant.

Lydia arched an eyebrow sending Aidan a sideways glance, “Stopping by just too state facts?” She asked as her gaze drifted back to her book, ignoring his eyes that were clearly on her.

His grin brightened just a little. “Well, I hadn’t seen you for awhile, so I saw you sitting here by yourself and thought I’d say hello.”

“Not interested,” Lydia tossed out casually not even bothering to look over this time. “Go say hello to someone else, can’t you see I’m busy?” She asked though she didn’t expect an answer. After everything that had happened Aidan was one of the last people she wanted to see.

“Kinda harsh there, Lydia.” Now he frowned, leaning against the table as he watched her. He didn’t understand what her problem was. They’d been pretty friendly not all that long ago.

His words finally made Lydia turn in his direction. “Kind of harsh?” She asked while straightening up, “Harsher what you and your brother helped Cali make Derek do to Boyd?” Lydia inquired, “Because I’m thinking not really.” One of the last times she’d seen him it was true she’d dragged him into Coach's office for a little heavy petting, but that was for Stiles and Scott. They’d asked her to distract him and she did.

And sure, they helped save her life when Jennifer attacked her and she’d felt bad after what happened and kept in touch with them the past few weeks. But Lydia wasn’t in the mood for small talk especially after how far Aidan went last week in trying to help Scott.

“That’s hardly a fair assessment. It wasn’t like we had a lot of choice.” Now he sounded just the slightest bit offended. “Deucalion would have killed us if we hadn’t done what we did. If Cali hadn’t done it first.”

Lydia studied him for a minute before sighing. “We all made our choices I suppose,” she said as she closed her book and sent Aidan an exasperated look. “What do you want?” Lydia asked keeping her tone light.

Aidan shrugged, looking down at the table for a minute, then back up at her. “I think we’re re-enrolling. Ethan wants to.” For Danny, of course. Something about wanting to have a semi-normal life even though they’d been out of high school for a couple years now. Aidan couldn’t care less about having a semi-normal life. He was in this to try and win Scott’s favor. Omegas didn’t tend to fare well in the world, and he was all about his own survival.

Lydia arched an eyebrow, “So, you thought you’d seek me out and see if I wanted to spend my lunch period in the Coach’s office?” She asked watching him with a calculated look.

His lips tugged upwards just a bit as he arched his eyebrows. “It would be a lot more fun than reading about biology. More hands on.” He reached out, tracing a finger lightly over her arm.

Lydia didn’t pull her arm away and she held his gaze as she leaned into him. “I’m not interested,” she said softly. Aidan was just as attractive as always, but he wasn’t the type of person she wanted to be with. He never was, but she’d been hurt when Jackson left and she hadn’t been ready to admit that there was someone else who she cared about someone...unexpected. So, she had done what she always did. Random hot guys because they couldn’t hurt her.

Aidan paused, staring at her for a long moment before pulling his hand away from her arm somewhat reluctantly. “You were pretty interested before,” he said, almost sounding hurt. Neither of them noticed that Stiles and Scott had emerged from the lunch line with their trays, or that Stiles had stopped walking when he spotted them there together.

Lydia heard what she thought was hurt in his voice and she felt the stirrings of guilt for being so mean. But that didn’t change the fact that she didn’t want him, not like that anyway. “Not anymore.” Lydia paused, “Everyone deserves a second chance so if you’re looking to make up for what you did then maybe...we can friends.” She offered.

He was silent for a moment, like he was considering her words even though he didn’t really feel guilty over what he’d had to do. If it came down to it, he’d always choose his own life, or his brother’s life, over anyone else. But he knew that wasn’t the way to get into Scott’s pack, and Lydia was part of that pack. So he smiled faintly, nodding. “Yeah. I’d like that.” He gave her arm a light squeeze before rising to his feet. “I’ll let you get back to studying.”

Lydia watched him go before turning back to her book, but any drive she had to study at the moment was gone. She reached over and dug into her purse until she pulled out a small compact. She opened it and glanced in the mirror brushing some of the makeup away from her eyes as she waited for everyone else to get there.


Scott stopped walking when he realized Stiles was a few feet behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and arched an eyebrow, “What’s wrong? Why’d you stop? I thought you were as hungry as me.” He said with a short laugh.

Stiles had been practically starving all morning, had drank three cups of coffee though it was definitely on his dad’s list of banned substances for Stiles, and while the caffeine had helped him focus more on his classes, it had also burned through the little amount of breakfast he’d managed to choke down before school. But the moment he stepped into the cafeteria and spotted Aidan -- Tweedle Dumb, he thought, annoyed -- talking to Lydia, tracing a finger over her arm as they talked -- all traces of his appetite vanished completely. Of course Aidan was back in the picture. Why wouldn’t he be?

He glanced sideways at his best friend, face drawn and tired. “I just lost my appetite,” he admitted tiredly, heading over, disposing of his lunch in the trash and setting the tray in the window before leaving the cafeteria. He really was a glutton for punishment.

Scott frowned, confused. He opened his mouth, but Stiles was already long gone. He glanced over at the bench where Lydia sat alone and he sighed. He knew he should probably go after Stiles, but he also knew his friend probably needed some time to himself. So, he’d eat his lunch fast and then go find Stiles and make sure he was okay...or at least as okay as he could be.


Stiles sank a little farther into his chair in English class, doing his best to suppress a yawn even as his tired eyelids drooped. He blinked a few times, tried to convince himself to sit up straighter and try to pay attention to what Mr. White was saying about Hamlet, but he’d read Hamlet in its entirety the night before, read all the discussion questions, read various thesis’ online about the play, and really, he didn’t need to hear anymore about it. After awhile, he gave in to the urge to let his eyes drift shut, laying his head on his desk without really thinking about it.

Just like that, he was in the middle of the woods, approaching the Nemeton. It was dark out, and lightning flashed across the sky, making him flinch involuntarily even as rain began to pound down on him. Everything about the dream felt familiar, real. Like he’d done this all before. It doesn’t even surprise him when one of the vines snakes out and grips his arm painfully tight, yanking him closer.

He could feel the power, the deadly and yet somehow life-giving power, of the tree even as he is dragged toward it, breathing shaky and frightened, mud staining his jeans and his shoes. He felt the vine digging into his skin, hard enough to draw blood, to leave a scar, probably and he felt his hand starting to go numb.

Help me, he thought, though he couldn’t form the words with his mouth.

Kira’s gaze was on her book as she followed along with Mr. White bored out of her mind. She’d read Hamlet at her old school already, taken the test, aced it and thrown away the book in hopes of never seeing it again. No such luck apparently. Kira was in the process of turning the page when she heard a soft whimper.

She blinked and straightened up in her seat glancing around the room. No one seemed to hear anything, they were all still looking forward, except Stiles. Her gaze came to rest on Scott’s best friend who sat diagonal from her and her brows drew together. Something seemed off about him.

Kira saw his body shiver, his hand jerking slightly and she opened her mouth to say something, but froze when she saw the gleaming red liquid sliding down from his shirt sleeve. Stiles twitched and that knocked Kira out of her state of shock. She reached out and gripped his arm giving him a sharp shake as she whispered furiously, “Wake up, Stiles, wake up.”

Stiles flinched, jerking his arm away from her instinctively as his eyes flew open. It took him a moment to realize that he was in class, not in the forest. Not at the Nemeton. Except his arm hurt like hell where the vine had dug into his skin and he stared at the blood, at the marks that were drawn there. His dreams were manifesting again. What had woken him from his dream? It hadn’t been Lydia this time.

He looked over to see Kira staring at him with wide, worried eyes and he quickly yanked his shirt sleeve down over the injury that had literally appeared from out of nowhere. His teeth chattered against his will as a cold chill swept over him, the color draining from his face.

Kira swallowed hard, “Oh god,” that discussion they’d been having the one about Bardo, it was real. It was happening. She shot up in her seat, standing abruptly and disrupting the class making everyone look at her. Kira’s cheeks warmed, but she spoke quickly, “I think Stiles is sick,” she motioned to his ashen face, “I’m going to help him get to the nurse’s office.”

Kira tugged her backpack over her shoulder and stepped around her desk pausing in front of Stiles not waiting for confirmation from the teacher. “Come on,” she leaned down and spoke quietly, “I’ll take you to Scott.”

He looked at her in confusion for a moment before rising to his feet, grabbing his books and his book bag and following her out the door without a glance at Mr. White or the rest of the class, who were now talking in hushed whispers. He was sick, all right. Except going to the nurse’s office or even to Scott probably wasn’t going to do much good. He appreciated the thought, though.

“Thanks,” he mumbled as they made their way into the hallway. She’d seen his arm. She had to have. It was why she was so freaked out. He didn’t blame her for that. He was pretty freaked out, too.

Kira hesitated as they walked, “It’s Bardo...isn’t it. Something is different about you guys. You, Scott, your friends. This is actually happening isn’t it?” She asked quietly as they got to the corner of the hallway and turned. She was pretty sure Scott had a free period this period, it wasn’t like she’d memorized his schedule or anything Kira was just observant.

He raked a hand through his hair, looking every bit as uneasy as he felt. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Kira. He knew Scott liked her for sure. And she seemed nice enough. But he didn’t know her well enough to confide in her about things like magic rituals or werewolves or the fact that he was at death’s door in more ways than one. “I don’t know.”

Kira studied Stiles for a minute as they walked before nodding. She understood if he didn’t trust her. She was a stranger. She certainly wouldn’t trust just anyone with her secret. Kira paused in front of the auditorium. “I think they’re having study hall in here today. Scott's got it this period right?” She asked as she shuffled her feet on the floor.

“Yeah. I think so. It’s sixth period, right?” His voice was shakier than he wanted it to be and he felt nauseous.

Kira nodded, “Yes, I’ll go get him for you. Just...just wait right here. You don’t look so good,” she said in a lower voice. “I’ll be right back with Scott.” She disappeared inside the door and stepped out into the auditorium. Kira glanced around until she spotted Scott in the lower half of the seats. She walked down and cleared her throat. “Scott?” She said his name softly waiting for him to turn in her direction.

Scott was leaning back in his seat, reading a copy of Wuthering Heights when he heard someone say his name. He glanced around uncertainly and then spotted Kira. His eyes lit up and he smiled at her. “Kira. Hi. What’s up?”

Kira couldn’t help the grin that pulled at her lips. “Hi, Scott. Not much,” she said before realizing why she was there, “Oh, no that’s not true. I have Stiles he’s in the hall and he’s...sick,” she said pinching her lips together. “I think it’s sort of strange, maybe you want to come with me to see him?” She asked tilting her head toward the doorway.

When she smiled at him, his own smile widened, an involuntary reaction. But then she mentioned Stiles being sick in the hallway and the smile faded from his face, worry replacing it. “Yeah. Yeah definitely.” He quickly rose to his feet, not bothering with his things and just leaving them where they lay. “What do you mean by strange, though?” he whispered as they headed for the door.

“Uh,” she fiddled with her the hem of her shirt as they walked to the door. “He fell asleep and, well, I think something happened to his arm.” She sent Scott a sideways glance, “It sort of just appeared?”

Scott’s eyes widened a little. His dream had manifested again. Dammit. That was not good. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she said as they finally stepped into the hallway. She paused a frown coloring her features when she didn’t see Stiles right away. But then she turned and spotted him leaning against the wall. She pointed. “See?”

Stiles felt like hell, and he imagined he didn’t look much better. But when he spotted Scott, he shrugged a shoulder and tried to force a smile. He doubted it fooled his best friend -- or Kira for that matter. “I’m okay,” he said pre-emptively.

Scott arched an eyebrow, “That’s funny because you don’t look okay. When’s the last time you actually slept?” He asked with a frown as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Kira watched the interaction silently, keeping to the side so she didn’t bother them.

“About ten minutes ago,” he said wryly, pretty sure that Kira had filled him in on that much.

Scott glared at his best friend, “You know what I mean. Actual sleep without going all mystically crazy in your dreams?” He asked his annoyance hiding the worry that was clear in his face. They still had another five days before the full moon and they needed to keep Stiles alive until then.

Stiles cut his eyes to Kira before looking back at Scott, unphased by the glare. He’d long since grown immune to Scott’s glares. He pursed his lips, thinking back to the last time he’d slept nightmare-free. It had been the night they’d all spent at Stiles’ house, the night that he knew his dad was still wanting to talk to him about. He remained silent, knowing Scott would figure it out on his own sooner or later.

Scott scratched the back of his neck. “You need to get some sleep, maybe I should come over tonight,” he suggested letting his eyes wander to Kira momentarily and sending her a reassuring smile.

As much as he wished that would solve his problem, because it was way less embarrassing to ask his best friend to help him than it was to ask someone like Lydia Martin, Stiles knew that Scott’s presence wouldn’t ultimately be the thing that made him rest easy. After all, Scott had spent the night at his place the night before last and he’d had nightmares, and Allison had spent the night last night and he’d had nightmares. There was one person who had a shot at keeping his nightmares at bay, and from the way things had looked at lunch, she was going to be busy tied up with Tweedle-Dumb. “Yeah. Sure.”

Scott frowned at Stiles response. Even though he said yes there was something on his face that didn’t seem right. Scott turned to Kira and smiled. “I really appreciate you coming to get me so I could help Stiles. You should probably get back to class though,” he suggestion knowing he needed to talk to Stiles alone.

“But maybe, I can call you sometime, I mean you know if you don’t mind me...calling.” Scott sent her a sheepish smile. “Or giving me your number…” Scott let his voice trail off as he held Kira’s gaze.

She ducked her head, a blush spreading across her cheeks. She hadn’t expected for him to say that and she bit her lip, nodding. “Yeah, no. I wouldn’t mind.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Stiles couldn’t help but feel faint amusement as he looked between the two of them, resisting the urge to make a comment about how they should just get a room.

“Great,” Scott said enthusiastically. He pulled out his cell phone and handed it to her. “You can just put it in there and then I’ll use it. I mean I’ll call you. Well I guess technically that would mean using it.” He scratched the back of his head and glanced at Stiles. He saw the hint of amusement on his friends face and he rolled his eyes.

He barely suppressed a chuckle at the dopey grin on his best friend’s face. He had to admit that Kira was cute. And very sweet from the few times he’d talked to her. He could see it working between them, if Kira had an open mind when it came to her potential boyfriend having glowing red eyes and sprouting fur from his cheeks on occasion.

Kira programmed her number into Scott’s phone, still blushing as she handed it back. Then she looked at Stiles. “I hope everything’s okay.” She turned and headed back down the hall toward class.

Scott watched her go with a grin on his face turning back to Stiles once he could no longer see her. The smile immediately fell from his lips. “What aren’t you telling me?” He asked.

Stiles sighed, knowing there was no real sense in trying to hide things from his best friend the alpha werewolf. Wordlessly, he rolled up his sleeve to reveal his damaged forearm.

Scott’s brows lifted high and his chest tightened at the wound on his forearm. He reached out and gripped Stiles’ arm carefully to get a closer look. “This is bad.” He said quietly and sighed. Scott should have smelled the blood when he first saw Stiles, but he’d been preoccupied. “We need to talk to the others. Have you spoken to Lydia? The night she was at your place with us you didn’t have any nightmares did you?”

“Yeah.” He wasn’t going to disagree, because he was too tired to argue, or even pretend like things were okay. “I haven’t really seen her today.” He looked away. “Except for like two seconds at lunch where Twee--uh, Aidan was occupying her personal space.” No, Stiles wasn’t at all bitter about that.

Scott blinked and suddenly his quick exit earlier made a lot more sense. “You saw Aidan here at school?” He asked tilting his head to the side. “Did you ask Lydia what they were talking about?” Scott already knew the answer to this question obviously, but he wanted his friend to answer anyway.

Stiles gave him a sour look. “No, but considering he was basically all over her, I can take a pretty good guess, Scott.” He blew out a breath.

Scott shook his head, “You’re an idiot.” He said simply. “Let me ask you something Stiles, are you avoiding Lydia or is she avoiding you? Because I’m pretty sure she asked me where you were three times today and when I was at lunch and she saw you weren’t with me she looked disappointed.”

Scott sent his friend a knowing look, “Maybe I’m not the only hot chick,” he said with half a smile. “You shouldn’t be so quick to jump to conclusions.” He told his friend with a mock stern voice. Stiles was always making fun of how he handled things with girls and he was glad he could mock his friend for once.

“Hot girl,” Stiles corrected him. “Not the only hot girl. Not chick. That’s insulting and non-feminist. The correct term is ‘hot girl.’” He arched his eyebrows as he deflected Scott’s comments. His arm was throbbing painfully though the bleeding had stopped. His shirt was pretty much ruined, though and that sucked. It was one of his favorites. “I’ll talk to her after school.”

Scott nodded satisfied, “Good, now let’s go to the locker room and get you cleaned up. Maybe we should have the nurse look at that or Allison,” he suggested. After all she did perform surgery on him in a bathroom on the road and he survived. He was pretty sure she could patch up Stiles arm.

“It’ll be fine, dude. It’s not that deep.” And Stiles didn’t do needles even if it was. He started toward the locker room, sighing in resignation.


Lydia held her books to her chest as she walked down the hallway toward her locker. It was finally the end of the day and she couldn’t seem to decide if she was angry or worried about Stiles. She thought after the last time they spoke that he was going to stop avoiding her and yet she hadn’t seen him at all that day and even though she offered to stay with him the other night he’d had Scott stay instead. She sighed, Lydia had no clue why she even cared.

So what Stiles was avoiding her. So what he couldn’t be bothered to check in and tell her he was okay. It wasn’t like her day revolved around him. She had friends and homework...and things. She walked faster down the hallway, head held high.

Lydia turned the corner and paused mid step when she spotted Stiles leaning against her locker. She pursed her lips and moved forward coming to a stop beside him and reaching for her lock. “So, you finally decided to say hello?” She asked keeping her tone light. He didn’t look good and she hated that he was suffering and there was nothing she could do at the moment. But she wasn’t a pushover either and she worried about him. The least he could do was not avoid her.

Her tone was light, but he knew her well enough to know that she was at the very least, annoyed by his repeat avoidance performance. It wasn’t like he could blame her for that. He had to remind himself that they were friends and nothing more. They were never going to be more than that. Stiles just wasn’t her type, and he knew it. He sighed softly, not moving away from the locker beside hers, his head resting against it. “Yeah. About that.” There was guilt laced in his voice. “I’m sorry. I’m tired and my judgment isn’t exactly at its peak. Not that it’s an excuse for being a piece of crap friend.”

He glanced around the quickly dissipating crowd of students who were on their way home for the weekend, subconsciously keeping his eyes open for the alpha twins in case they were nearby. When he didn’t see any sign of them, he shifted his gaze back to her once more. “So I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Lydia sent him a sideways glance as she got her lock open and slipped her books inside. “It’s fine. You don’t owe me an explanation.” It wasn’t like they were more than friends even though sometimes it sort of felt like maybe--No, don’t go there Lydia thought. “How are you?” She asked as she shut the locker door and turned to face him.

“Yeah, Lyds, I do,” he said softly, pushing himself away from the locker and chewing on his lower lip for a moment before rolling up his shirt sleeve.

Lydia’s gaze dropped to his arm and she felt her throat close up at the sight of bandages there. She reached out and gripped his arm gently. “What happened?” She asked, her brows drawn together in worry. “You fell asleep in school?” her voice was soft as her eyes flickered up to his.

Stiles nodded slightly. “Yeah, in English class. Kira woke me.” And delivered him to Scott immediately. It was almost weird that she knew to do that, but he supposed that she’d been paying a lot of attention to Scott and he was with Scott a lot of time and Kira seemed like a smart girl.

Lydia’s brow shot up, “Is that so?” She said her lips pressing together, “Well then I guess it’s a good thing she was there.” Though Lydia almost felt like the new girl was around too much. Who listened to other people’s conversations and bringing up the whole Bardo thing, like Lydia didn’t already know what that was. The feel of Stiles’ eyes on her brought her out of her mental rant. “How bad was it this time?” She asked concern on her face.

He was silent for a moment, then he slowly unwound the bandage from around his forearm so she could see the extent of the damage. “Not near-death bad, but it wasn’t pleasant,” he admitted quietly. He blew out a breath. “So I uh...I was kind of wondering if maybe…” He hesitated. “If you weren’t busy tonight, if you might want to come and uh, keep me company.”

Lydia tried her hardest to keep her demeanor relaxed and calm, but when she saw his arm she felt an unfamiliar emotion gather in her chest and found her eyes burning slightly despite her attempt to keep her face neutral. She couldn’t let the tears come. Lydia knew she needed to be the strong one. Stiles needed her to be strong.

“I told you, you should have let me come last night and the night before.” The words left her mouth, but it wasn’t what she wanted to say. It was all she could manage at the moment especially in a hallway full of people. Well not really full, but they were there scattered around and heading home.

Stiles’ eyes were sad as he looked down at the floor. “You’re right,” he confessed. “I should have. But listening isn’t my greatest strength, apparently. You know me. I’m more of a talker. A babbler really.” He forced himself to take a deep breath. “You don’t have to. I mean, I understand if you’ve got other plans already,” he added, thinking of Aidan and trying not to let that bother him as much as it really did. “I can just ask Scott again. It’ll be fine. Not a big deal. I mean there’s only a few days left until the full moon anyway and then all this will be over and life will be back to normal. You know, as normal as it can be for us in Beacon Hills considering everything that’s here.”

Lydia swallowed hard, her chest tightening at his words. She hoped everything didn’t change. She liked how close they’d gotten. She felt like she could be herself around Stiles, like she didn’t have to hide the real her the way she did with everyone else. “What other plans?” She asked confused.

Her confused response actually caught him off guard and he fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t make him sound like he was a creepy stalker who’d seen her lunch date. “Uh, you know, anything. I mean it’s Friday night and this is last minute and you could have a date or plans to hang out with Allison or I don’t know, want to work on inventing a time machine -- “ Probably so she could go back and avoid meeting him in the first place, “-- or you know, washing your hair or uh, anything that involves any or all of the above things?”

Lydia arched an eyebrow at Stiles, “You’re acting stranger than usual today.” She commented. “Allison is doing something with Isaac tonight,” she said while lifting her purse higher up on her shoulder. “And I can’t remember the last time I had a something to look into.” She said to herself though the truth was she hadn’t exactly been in the dating mood lately. “Why did you invite me over if you don’t want me to come?” Lydia asked finally.

“It’s entirely possible that after my not so pleasant catnap in English, I downed a couple of extra Adderall so I didn’t risk falling asleep again,” he admitted. It always made him more hyper when he did so, but the risk vs. reward chart had been incredibly simple this time. The reward of not having to worry about waking up physically injured from a nightmare during school clearly won that battle. He swallowed hard at her mention of looking into a date. Awesome. “I’m not saying I don’t want you to come over, I’m just saying I get that it’s Friday night and you may already have plans.”

“I don’t,” Lydia said, “And if I did I’d cancel them because you’re more important.” She told him softly before glancing around the nearly empty hall. “I think we’re the only two people actually standing in school when we don’t have to be here,” she commented. “We should go.”

He felt his chest tighten at her words and he hesitated before reaching out lacing his fingers through hers. He wasn’t sure how she’d react to the gesture at this point, but he couldn’t resist the urge regardless of the possible outcome. “We could uh, stop by the grocery store and I could get some stuff to cook and fix dinner.”

Lydia wasn’t quite able to hide the surprise on her face, “You cook?” She said leaving her hand in his as she tugged him gently to the exit. She realized she probably shouldn’t be surprised. The Sheriff didn’t exactly seem like the type who went around cooking.

Despite everything else that was going on, Stiles couldn’t help but grin at the surprise in her voice and on her face. “Yeah, I do. What do you think? Will you trust my culinary skills for a night?”

“Of course,” She said without hesitation. “I always trust you.” Lydia said quietly before clearing her throat. “Is it just us tonight? Or is Scott coming over too?” It wasn’t that she would mind if he did, but she hadn’t spent much time with Stiles lately and it was possible she missed him...sort of.

He swallowed hard at that declaration, squeezing her hand just a little without really meaning to. “Yeah, just us. I think Scott probably needs the break. I mean, unless you want me to ask him to come over?” His voice was uncertain.

Lydia glanced sideways at Stiles. “No, let’s let Scott have the night off.” She said. “I have to stop at home and grab some clothes.” Lydia was going to need something to sleep in and clothes for tomorrow.

“Oh. Right, sure. Uh, you can bring Prada over if you want,” he offered. “Dad won’t mind. I mean, he’s working tonight, but he likes dogs.”

Lydia’s expression softened at the mention of Prada, “You wouldn’t mind?” she asked making sure, “I hate leaving her all by herself for long periods of time and my Mom isn’t going to be home tonight.” She explained, “She’s not a lot of trouble.”

“I don’t mind,” Stiles promised. “Prada’s a good dog.” Not that he had a lot of experience with dogs, but hey, Prada had never tried to bite him and that counted as a good dog in his book.

Lydia smiled, “She is. The best.” They were walking across the school parking lot getting closer to Stiles’ jeep by the minute. “Oh, and don’t think you’re off the hook for ignoring me that easily. We’re going to talk about it.” She said matter-of-factly.

He winced at that, hoping that the promise of a home-cooked meal and allowing her dog to come stay over was enough penance for that mistake. “Right. Got it.” He blew out a breath as he walked her to his jeep and unlocked the door, opening it for her.

Lydia squeezed Stiles hand one last time before releasing it to get in the jeep. He closed the door behind her and she watched as he walked around the car and got in. Lydia wasn’t entirely sure what was going on with Stiles outside of the obvious, but hopefully they’d both be able to get some rest that night because God knows he needed it and it wouldn’t kill her either.

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