The Dark Side of The Moon 6/14

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 |Five |

Chapter 6

A couple of hours later found them in the Stilinski kitchen as Stiles set about chopping onions and peppers, grilling chicken in a frying pan on the stove, and seasoning rice all simultaneously. Sometimes his ADD meant that he was really awesome at multi-tasking when it came to things like fixing dinner. They’d gone grocery shopping after stopping by her house to pick up her things and Prada, whom she’d carried in the store in her purse and not one single person dared to approach and tell her it wasn’t okay.

Stiles was not surprised in the least.

Grocery shopping was something he didn’t normally enjoy a whole lot, mostly because it was dull, but he found himself asking her a million questions as they walked around, mentally making a list of the foods she liked and the ones she wouldn’t touch and formulating their dinner menu for the night. That made it more interesting, because as much as he did know about Lydia, there was still a lot he didn’t know. There was apparently a lot they didn’t know about each other in general.


They’d known each other forever -- since pre-school, but it hadn’t been til the last couple of years that he’d really been in her line of sight, and normally it was for all the wrong reasons. Because something terrible was happening, usually. Kanimas and werewolves and brainwashing evil former alphas trying to come back from the dead. Finding dead bodies and trying to prevent other people from becoming dead bodies, and once in awhile, school.

Now, though, it was his possible impending death that was bringing them together, and that was sort of terrible, too. But he was determined to make the most of it, and making her an awesome dinner that she’d never forget was on the top of his current list of priorities. Prada lay curled on Lydia’s lap where she was sitting at the kitchen table and once he had a tiny piece of chicken cooked thoroughly, he fed it to the pup with a fond smile.

Lydia had to bite back a smile as she watched Stiles, “You’re going to spoil her,” she said though her voice didn’t sound the slightest bit angry as she ran her hand over Prada’s fur before rubbing the small dog behind the ears. The smell of onions and other vegetables filled the air as Stiles moved through the kitchen like a pro cooking dinner.

For some reason Lydia never pictured Stiles like this. She never pictured him having the kind of patience it took to sit around and make dinner. She was impressed. And not just because he was cooking. They had gone shopping earlier, something that believe it or not she did often due to the fact that her Mom was out of town a lot.

Stiles seemed more adult in this setting and she felt comfortable in his house and presence. It was a little unsettling for Lydia. She wasn’t used to feeling so comfortable around people, but Stiles was different. She tilted her head to the side, “Are you sure you don’t need help?”

He grinned innocently at her, arching his eyebrows. “Like you don’t?” he teased, moving back to the counter and working on chopping more vegetables, tossing them into the frying pan before putting the dirty dishes in the sink and running some dish water. “Yeah I’m sure. I’m good.” He felt himself relaxing a bit from the tension of the week even just hanging around with her and cooking dinner, hoping she wouldn’t mind a quick jaunt to the sheriff’s station after they ate so he could take some to his dad. “My dad doesn’t really cook much.”

Lydia looked up from Prada and continued watching Stiles as she spoke. “Neither does my Mother. She’s gone a lot and I guess cooking just sort of falls low on the priority list. She always leaves money for food, but every once in a while I’ll make something. It’s sort of silly though for just one person.” Lydia admitted as she lifted Prada off her lap carefully for a minute so she could cross her legs.

“Did he ever used to cook?” She asked curiously wondering if it had always been like this in the Stilinski household.

He was quiet for a moment, a kind of nostalgic sadness settling on him. “Yeah, my dad...he works a lot of late shifts so I usually just cook and take stuff to him. If there’s some kind of werewolf crisis going on, though, I’ll just grab some sandwiches and stuff from the store instead.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, wondering if her dad had ever cooked, or if her mom had before her parents divorced.

“Not really. Uh, my mom though. She loved to cook.” His chest tightened in the same familiar way it always did when he mentioned his mom. “She used to make these huge Sunday morning breakfasts because it was usually the only day my dad had guaranteed off before he became sheriff.” He chewed his lower lip for a moment, stirring the rice into the frying pan. “Do you like to cook?”

Lydia was silent for a minute, “When I need to relax I cook sometimes.” She admitted. “Before my parents got a divorce my Mom cooked all the time and she would let me help her if things weren’t too hot or with baking..” That was mostly true, but it actually changed before the divorce. When Lydia’s older sister died. Things between her parents got rocky after that and they started fighting all the time.

Her parents separated not long later and then divorced before the ink on the separation was even dry. “But now not so much.” Lydia tilted her head to the side. “Do you like it? You seem good at it. Is cooking a hidden talent you’ve been avoiding showing me?” She asked her tone suggesting she was teasing.

It took him a moment to decide whether or not she was deflecting instinctively or by choice. He was leaning toward instinct. He tended to do the same thing, only instead of changing the subject, he just tended to babble incessantly. A wry smile touched his mouth at her compliment. “I wouldn’t say I was avoiding showing you. It just...hadn’t really come up until now.”

Stiles stirred the vegetables and rice and chicken, glancing over at her once more. “I try to cook for my dad whenever I can. You know, to make sure he’s eating healthy.” He knew she’d understand because if there was anyone besides Scott who knew how terrified he was of losing his father, it was Lydia. She’d been there when he almost had. She’d seen his reaction. “Otherwise he’d be content to eat nothing but red meat and greasy food like, 24/7.”

Lydia smiled at that. She knew how much Stiles’ father meant to him. She’d seen first hand how hard it was for him when Jennifer took the Sheriff. “You’re lucky,” she said suddenly, her voice quiet. “Your dad is a really good guy.” There were a number of times he’d helped her out in the past all of which Stiles had been around for in some form or another.

Lydia realized her statement must have sounded odd so she shifted Prada on her lap, making the dog let out a small noise of disapproval as she clarified. “Not that my Dad isn’t. Both of my parents have been there when it mattered, but neither of them have been the same since the accident with my sister.” She said glancing down.

It wasn’t something Lydia talked about often or ever if she was being honest, but it was true. Her parents had been pretty much absent in her life since her 16-year-old sister died in a car crash. Sure they were there when she was in the hospital after Peter attacked her, and they were around when she ran from the hospital and at parent teacher conferences to keep up appearances. But it was the everyday stuff they missed.

Lydia didn’t even think it was intentional, they just sort of filled their days with work and bickering with each other. “I’m used to being on my own most of the time, I know you are too, but it’s not because your Dad doesn’t care.” She explained feeling exposed and wondering why she’d shared that with him. “The food smells delicious,” Lydia commented while running her hand down Prada’s back again gently ruffling her fur.

Stiles didn’t have to be told he was lucky. He was well aware of how lucky he was because she was right. At the end of the day, even if his dad wasn’t there, his dad loved him more than anything. Their relationship, while shaky the last couple of years and many times before that, was still the most solid relationship in his life, with the exception of his friendship with Scott. They were the two relationships that everything else in his life was based upon. Hell for years, he hadn’t even really made attempts at making other friends. He had Scott, his brother, and that was enough. His world had expanded a lot in the last few months.

But at the mention of her sister, Stiles grew still, looking over at her and holding his breath. He knew of course, that she’d had an older sister when they were growing up. She’d talked about her sister a couple of times in class and even back then Stiles paid attention to everything Lydia Martin. But he’d never heard her mention her sister or her sister’s accident since they’d grown up. Not once. He assumed it was because it was as difficult for her to talk about as it was for him to talk about his mom.

“My dad’s...never really been the same after my mom either,” he said softly. “I guess that’s just...what death does to people?” He looked down at the frying pan. “I mean, I guess it’s kind of normal.” He looked over at her again.

Lydia met his gaze and nodded. “I guess it is. If you love a person enough losing them can rattle your entire world.” She said the statement more clinical than emotional. “People think you get over that kind of loss, but really you just learn to live with it. After awhile I think that pain just becomes part of the person you are.” At least that’s what it had always felt like to her.

Lydia thought she’d be able to garner her parents attention and focus by being smart, doing well in school, excelling at making friends and being the best at everything she did. It hadn’t really worked that way, but after a while that just became who she was. But boys and even girls didn’t like people who were too smart, so even while she got straight ‘A’s in every class Lydia down played her smarts to most people because it wasn’t cool. That was a big part of her relationship with Jackson, constantly pretending not to know things so he could feel better about himself.

At the time, Lydia hadn’t minded. But now...well she was glad she wasn’t in that situation anymore because her priorities had definitely changed over the last few months. Prada wiggling in Lydia’s lap and she bent down and put her on the floor. Prada walked over to the corner where Lydia had put her small bed, got in and curled up. Lydia watched her with a small smile before her gaze returned to Stiles.

His mind leapt back in time for a brief moment, recalling the words he’d once said to her the first time she’d ever come to his house. That death didn’t happen to the person, it happened to everyone around them. And that if she died, he’d go out of his mind. He drew in a breath, thinking that for as true as it had been back then, it would be even worse now. If Lydia did die, he would not only lose his mind, he was pretty sure he’d have no desire to even be alive anymore.

He thought about what she said, that pain just eventually became a part of who you were. She was right, of course. The pain never really went away. He wondered if the loss of his mother, and the loss of Lydia’s sister, had somehow damaged them on such a basic level that it was why they both fought to keep people away. To keep them from getting too close. Because they didn’t want to experience that loss again.

Stiles finished stirring the ingredients in the frying pan before divvying it up into three portions -- a plate for Lydia, a plate for him, and a container of it to take to his dad at the station. He walked over and set her plate down in front of her, sitting down in the seat beside her instead of the one across from her. “Maybe we could make this a regular thing.” He hadn’t even realized what he’d said until he’d said it and then his cheeks colored and he looked down at his plate.

Lydia glance from the plate to Stiles. “Maybe we can,” she said casually, but she felt her heartbeat speed of a notch, something it didn’t often do. Well, not when there wasn’t something physical involved anyway. The past few months had made it clear to her that she was starting to see Stiles differently. And with what was going on now, Lydia was thinking maybe she was finally ready to admit there was some kind of connection between them, feelings that she didn’t mind as much as she thought she had.

She nodded toward the container. “Is that for your Dad?” She asked while lifting her fork and trying to figure out where to start.

He smiled a little, glancing up at her and nodding. “Yeah. I try to take him dinner anytime he works a late shift.” It was pretty rare that they actually ate a meal at home together, and once in a great while he’d eat dinner at the sheriff’s station with his dad, or with some of the deputies if his dad wasn’t around, and he’d put his dad’s leftovers in the fridge.

Stiles shoved a bite of stir fry in his mouth and waited to see if she liked it, too.

Lydia filled her fork and lifted it to her mouth. Surprise crossed her face once again as the flavor of the peppers and seasonings mixed in her mouth. It was a blend of spices whirling together in her mouth and it was delicious. She closed her eyes and chewed before swallowing and filling her fork again. “I’m impressed,” she said finally with a smile. “It’s really good Stiles, thank you.” She said softly. It was nice that he’d gone to the trouble to make her dinner.

At that, he grinned brightly for the first time in days.

______
Lydia made her way out of the bathroom her face washed, hair and teeth brushed, and her pajamas on. She glanced down at herself and bit her bottom lip. She’d chosen a pair of short cotton flannel pattern shorts and a white spaghetti strap top for bed figuring her regular nightgowns probably wouldn’t be the best for this little sleepover of hers. Lydia could still remember the time Stiles came over to her house after the Alpha attack in the video store and she’d had next to nothing on.

Talk about awkward, though at the time she hadn’t cared much. But that was because she hadn’t known Stiles yet. Not really. Lydia padded down the hallway barefoot until she reached Stiles’ bedroom. She paused in the doorway watching as he laid a blanket and pillow out on the floor. They had stopped by to bring his Dad dinner earlier only to find out he was on a call so they’d come back to the house and hung out for a bit before deciding to turn in.

“All set?” Lydia asked softly from the doorway not used to anyone other than Allison seeing her this way.

He turned to look up at her, eyes widening ever-so-slightly at the sight of her very down-to-earth and yet incredibly appealing choice of pajamas. She looked younger than usual, somehow, but still every bit as beautiful as always. Everything about Lydia seemed to be a contradiction, though, and he wasn’t sure why he was surprised.

He just...was.

“Yeah.” His voice caught in his throat for a moment and then he smiled up at her faintly. “Uh, do you wanna pop in a movie to try and go to sleep by or…” He really wasn’t sure what her sleeping habits normally consisted of.

Lydia stepped into the room, “Whatever you want to do. Do you usually sleep with a movie on?” She asked as she placed her stuff in her bag before heading over to the bed and sitting on the edge. Stiles had told her earlier she would sleep in the bed and he’d take the floor. Lydia told him it wasn’t necessary that she could sleep on the floor, but he wouldn’t have it.

“Not usually, but I wasn’t sure if that would make you more comfortable or something,” he admitted, giving her a lopsided smile. He motioned to his collection of DVDs in the corner. “If you want to you can pick something out. I may even have a copy of The Notebook.” Which of course, he’d bought just for future purposes if and when she wanted to visit.

Lydia swallowed hard. “You’re good guy, Stiles.” She said the words softly before smiling at him. “I’m okay though, we can save the Notebook for another day,” she joked, though the thought of watching it with Stiles didn’t make her want to laugh. Lydia cleared her throat, “Are you going to be okay down there?” She asked as she stood again and pulled back the covers on his bed.

He hadn’t been expecting the compliment but he smiled faintly in acknowledgment. He tried to be a good guy, even if sometimes he acted like an idiot or an ass. He didn’t want to be like Jackson or Aidan. He wanted to be like his dad, or Scott. They were the best guys that he knew. “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he assured. “The carpet’s soft, remember?” he teased, referring to their last sleepover.

Lydia smiled, “Right.” She got into his bed taking a few minutes to get situated before resting her head back against his pillows. Lydia inhaled deeply. Stiles’ scent surrounded her. She shifted onto her side and pressed herself into the pillow enjoying the feel of his sheets against her skin. Lydia felt warm and safe. She could hear Stiles shifting on the floor and when he was still moving five minutes later she sighed. “This is ridiculous.” She stated. “You need your rest and you’re not going to get it on that floor, soft rug or not.” She told him as she sat up.

“It’s a big bed, we can share.” Lydia said waiting for him to get up.

Stiles’ eyes widened a little at her suggestion. She wanted to share his bed? Platonically, you idiot, he reminded himself. It wasn’t like they were going to cuddle. Although the last time they’d had a sleepover, they’d all ended up more or less cuddling. His dad was probably still wondering what that had been about. He hesitated a moment. “You sure?”

Lydia nodded, “Absolutely,” she said once again feeling her heartbeat quicken at the thought of him in bed beside her. They were just sharing a bed, nothing else. Lydia needed to get her body in check before she attempted to jump Stiles for no reason...well not for no reason. She shook the thought away before pushing the covers down and motioning for him to come over to the bed.

He swallowed hard, grabbing his pillow off the floor and setting it down on the bed, instantly recalling one of the dreams he’d had not that long ago. He’d been trapped in dreams, one after the other, and in one of them, he’d woken with her beside him, comforting him. He laid down beside her on the mattress, facing her and hoping that wasn’t going to be too awkward.

Lydia shifted so she was on her side and sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. It should feel strange to be in bed with Stiles, but it didn’t and that surprised her. The whole night had pretty much surprised her. “You should get some rest,” she said said finally breaking the silence, “You need it.” He was watching her and she swallowed hard while holding his gaze. “What?” she asked her voice soft. The room was quiet around them and the only light was coming in from the window.

She wasn’t wrong. It had been days since he’d slept well, without nightmares. Since the last time she’d stayed over, and part of him wondered if that was because she was his anchor. “Just...thank you. For everything. For being here for me. You’re a good person, Lyds,” he said sincerely, voice quiet. She was and he wondered how often it was that anyone actually reminded her of that fact.

His words made her heart warm. People were constantly saying things about her, but none of them were anything like what Stiles had just said. He knew her in a way no one else did. He saw her for who she was and Lydia was pretty sure Stiles would never know how much that meant to her. She was silent for a long minute before she shifted moving closer to him, reaching out her hand until it grazed his arm.

Lydia could hear her heartbeat echoing in her ears now and she tried to push the crazy nervousness aside. She moved again until her body was pressed against his side. “Are you comfortable?” She whispered.

He smiled faintly, hesitantly draping an arm around her waist and letting his hand rest against her back. Completely platonic and not at all inappropriate. They were friends, and friends could do things like that. “This okay?” he whispered back. It wasn’t like they weren’t the only two people in the house and needed to whisper, but they were in bed, the lights were out, and whispering was the only sound that seemed right in the situation.

“Yes,” the sound was soft like a sigh and Lydia rested her head on his chest her hand falling just above his waist near his stomach. She shifted her legs out of habit and they brushed against his. Lydia swallowed heavily, “Stiles?”

He held his breath when their legs brushed as she moved. “Yeah?” She was so close to him physically that it was hard to think.

Lydia opened her mouth and then closed it not sure what it was she wanted to say. “Have a good night,” she finally said even though she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be falling asleep just yet. Her fingers traced patterns on his chest as she tried to focus on sleep and not how close he was to her.

Stiles couldn’t help but think she had wanted to say something else and had thought better of it. “You too, Lyds,” he murmured, reluctantly closing his eyes.

Lydia watched him close his eyes and then took a deep breath and let it out slowly before doing the same and relaxing against him. Sleep was the best course of action at the moment, because anything else would change their relationship drastically and she wasn’t quite sure she was ready for that just yet.