April 2, 2014

The Dark Side of The Moon 10/14


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: 10/13
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 | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine |

Chapter 10

Lydia cracked the last egg into the bowl and then reached over and threw the empty carton out into the garbage. She grabbed a fork and started whipping it through the eggs as she glanced at the clock on the stove. It was a little after six. Lydia knew the Sheriff and Stiles would probably be up soon, she was actually mildly surprised Stiles hadn’t woken up when she slipped out of bed that morning.

A soft smile spread across her face as she brought the bowl over to the heated frying pan. She poured the eggs in, her mind drifting back to last night. Things between her and Stiles were no longer confusing, well, that was a lie. They were still confusing, but at least now they each knew what they meant to each other.

The sound of a soft bark pulled her from her thoughts and Lydia glanced down at Prada who had made her way into the kitchen. She smiled, put the bowl on the counter and bent down. “Hi baby, are you being a good girl?” She asked as she rubbed Prada’s neck before giving her a quick pat on the head and then standing back up.


The table was set, the juice and milk were out. There was toast, some turkey bacon and she was working on the eggs. Lydia took the spatula and pushed the eggs around in the pan as her eyes drifted to the small calendar on the refrigerator. The smile that she hadn’t been able to get rid of since she woke up slipped from her face.

Lydia swallowed hard and turned back to the food on the stove. She had woken up extremely early even though she and Stiles hadn’t fallen asleep until late. Her mood was good minus the fact that eight years ago today her sister and Mrs. Stilinski had died. Lydia didn’t even like to think about it, but she knew they wouldn’t be able to avoid it today so she thought she’d do something nice for Stiles and his Dad.

A couple of minutes later she turned off the stove and scooped the eggs onto a plate.

Stiles was only half awake through his shower and he fumbled with clothes from his closet. It had been days since he’d had a nightmare and the only thing that had actually changed was that Lydia was spending every night with him, in his bed. A tired smile stretched across his face momentarily as he recalled what had happened the day before, but it was momentary as he remembered the events that had let up to the thing that made him smile. That, combined with the knowledge of the date, made him sigh softly, rubbing a hand over his face.

He sniffed the air, confused for a moment as he smelled eggs cooking. His dad never made breakfast on the anniversary. They generally ate breakfast separately before splitting up for the day -- Stiles to school and the sheriff to work -- and meeting at Claudia’s grave after. That was if Stiles made it to school. Usually he didn’t bother. He’d skip out one day a year and find something else to do instead.

Which meant that Lydia was in the kitchen. Cooking. Cooking breakfast. He blinked, eyes widening a little as he exited his room and headed down the steps, rounding the corner and staring at her as she stood at the stove, hair damp from the shower, and already dressed for the day. “Lydia?”

Lydia glanced over her shoulder as she placed the pan down and grabbed the plate full of eggs. She turned and walked towards the table and Stiles. “Morning,” she said softly as she put the plate on the table and watched as Prada pranced around Stiles legs. Lydia closed some of the distance between them, “Did you sleep okay?” She asked as she rested a hand on his chest not sure what his mood was going to be like.

Stiles nodded, leaning in after a second’s hesitation and kissing her softly on the mouth before pulling away to look at her. “You made breakfast.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “It smells good.”

Lydia’s smile was back, “I did and I’m glad. Your Dad’s been making breakfast for us all week, I thought maybe he could use a break,” she admitted and motioned to the table. “Eggs, mostly whites, toast and don’t worry, it’s turkey bacon,” she told him remembering what he’d said to his Dad the first morning Sheriff Stilinski found them in bed together.

He relaxed a little when she smiled, and when she told him what breakfast consisted of, his eyes got just a little brighter than before. “You are one amazing woman, Lydia Martin.” He reached out and wound his arms around her in a hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you.” His voice was quiet. She knew what day it was, of course, and that no doubt had factored into this, too.

Lydia wrapped her arms around Stiles and leaned into him, “You’re welcome,” she said just as quietly. She stayed like that in his arms running a hand up and down his back wanting him to know she was there for him if he needed her.

The clearing of a throat from the doorway made Lydia pull back from Stiles slowly. She sent the Sheriff a hesitant smile. “Morning Sheriff,” she said keeping her tone light.

Stiles turned to face his dad when he heard his footsteps and then his throat-clearing. His chest tightened when he saw how tired his dad looked, and he swallowed hard, not quite sure what to say, if he was supposed to say anything. He knew that deep down, even if he would never admit it out loud, his dad blamed him. He didn’t blame his dad for that. How could he? It was the truth.

The Sheriff watched them for a minute before his gaze drifted to the table full of food. “Did you do all this?” He asked as he cocked his head to the side.

Lydia swallowed hard not used to actually being nervous. “I did, I hope that’s okay.” She added as an afterthought.

The sheriff glanced around again and nodded. It had been a long time since he’d spent the anniversary of Claudia’s death with anyone. He typically spent the day alone and then met up with Stiles at the graveyard. But he could work with this. “It’s actually very nice of you...thanks.” He said while running a hand through his messy hair. He wasn’t due in until noon so they had some time.

Wordlessly, Stiles moved to sit down in his normal spot, picking up the glass of juice that Lydia had already poured and taking a small sip, blinking back the tears that burned his eyes before either of them could see. He felt a small paw on his leg and looked down to see Prada there begging for food. He broke a little piece of bacon off and fed it to the pup silently.

Lydia caught the look On Stiles’ face, but she kept her mouth shut for the moment and sat beside him. She filled her plate and rested her free hand on Stiles’ thigh offering him some comfort.

Stiles was extremely glad when Lydia sat down next to him, and he wondered if she’d seen how hard he was struggling to stay as low key about things as he could, or if she’d somehow felt it. Either way, he relaxed once more when she rested her hand on his leg and he reached down to cover it with his own.

The Sheriff watched the two of them for a minute, his chest tightening as he pulled out a chair and sat across from them. He reached for some of the food and as he was putting some on his plate he couldn’t help the way his thoughts flashed to Claudia and how she used to make breakfast every morning. Something about breakfast being the most important meal of the day and how it should be shared as a family.

If he was being honest the past few days with Stiles and Lydia, the house had started to feel more alive again. Having a woman’s opinion on things whether it was wanted or not seemed to be opening them up to spending more time together. They’d had breakfast together every day this week, dinner two on the nights he wasn’t working.

And now this. The Sheriff paused before taking a bite of his eggs. “This is nice,” he said his voice quiet, “Maybe tonight we can meet here, have some dinner before heading to the cemetery,” he suggested. It didn’t sound like a big deal, but for him it was. Thinking about Claudia still hurt especially on this day.

He’d just taken a bite of bacon when his dad suggested they meet there for dinner before going to the cemetery, and he froze, lifting his gaze to see if he was serious. The look on his face suggested that he was, but Stiles still couldn’t quite bring himself to meet his dad’s eyes. He never could. Not on this date. “Uh, yeah. I mean if that’s...what you want to do.” His voice was rough, like he had something stuck in his throat.

Lydia heard his voice and she squeezed his leg gently. The Sheriff must have heard it too because she watched as he put down his fork and focused his attention on Stiles.

“Son,” his voice is rough as he waited for Stiles to look at him.

Please don’t do this. Not now, he thought, feeling his chest tighten in that familiar way, like any second he was going to be struggling for breath in a really not fun kind of panic attack way. His hand tightened around Lydia’s just a little, his other hand wrapping tightly around his fork as he tried to look up. He just couldn’t do it. Don’t you ruin this breakfast, Stilinski, he told himself, putting his own fork down. What was it that Scott had done a few weeks ago, when he’d been shifting without having control? Right. Stiles let his other hand drop to his side, digging his nails in as hard and as deep as he could.

He let out a breath and finally looked at his dad. “We can do dinner first this time. That sounds good.”

It pained the Sheriff to see the unshed tears in his eyes. Guilt hit him hard in the gut as he realized that this was his fault. The reason they never spent this day together was because of him. He distanced himself from Stiles, because the emotion he felt on this day was too hard to deal with. Claudia’s death brought him too much pain and the guilt of not being there when she died made it even worse.

The Sheriff took a minute before he reached out and gripped Stiles’ shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “It’s okay to be upset...to be sad,” his felt his throat tighten, “I miss her too.” His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke.

Lydia felt her own eyes mist over and she had to look away to keep her emotions in check, which at the moment wasn’t easy.

He was a little caught off guard when his dad gripped his shoulder. It wasn’t that they weren’t physically affectionate because as father and sons went, the Stilinski’s generally hugged at least once a day. It was something that Claudia had instilled in both of them. It was that the whole morning was throwing him off track and he literally just didn’t know what to do. He reached out and did the same, squeezing his dad’s shoulder. “I know, Dad,” he whispered, swallowing hard and looking down at his plate as his own guilt threatened to swallow him whole. Christ, if he just hadn’t been so fucking stupid and selfish, things could have been so different.

He looked over at Lydia, holding his breath for a moment and searching her eyes as he silently asked permission to fill his dad in on what they’d learned.

Lydia nodded, knowing almost immediately what Stiles wanted to do. She caught the confusion on the Sheriff’s face at their exchange, but she ignored it for the moment. “Do you want me to stay?” She asked softly not knowing if he wanted this time with his Dad to be private.

Stiles nodded, not letting go of her hand before looking over at his dad once more. “Dad, there’s uh...there’s some stuff we need to tell you that we just found out,” he whispered. “And it’s...kind of a lot to wrap your mind around.”

The Sheriff’s brows drew together as he frowned while glancing between them. “Is everything okay?” He paused and sat back in his chair, “Wait a minute this isn’t...you two aren’t,” he swallowed hard and rubbed the back of his neck, “Lydia isn’t pregnant is she?” He asked not sure they could deal with a teenage pregnancy on top of everything else.

He’d just taken a drink of orange juice to wet his throat before he started to explain when his dad asked him if Lydia was pregnant...in front of Lydia. Orange juice spewed out of his mouth and all over the table. “Oh my god, Dad! No.

Relief flew over the Sheriff’s face as he grabbed some napkins and reached forward patting up the spilled juice on the table. “Well, it’s not like it’s out of the realm of possibility, my judgment has obviously been compromised since I’ve been letting a girl sleep in your bed.” He said his gaze darting to Lydia and frowning when he saw the humor there.

Lydia bit her bottom lip as she tried not to laugh at the expression on Stiles’ face. “Well, rest assured Sheriff, there are no babies.” Considering that in order for there to be babies there had to be a little thing called sex and she and Stiles hadn’t actually taken that step in their newly cultivated relationship.

“Then what is it? What’s going on? Don’t keep your old man in suspense.” He said while glancing between them.

“Sure, right after I get over the mortal humiliation I’m currently suffering from,” he grumbled under his breath. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, unaware that his palm was bleeding from digging his nails into the skin so deeply.

Lydia couldn’t hold back the soft laugh that bubbled up from her throat and she clamped a hand over her mouth immediately. She was pretty sure it was a combination of humor and lack of sleep that was currently making the whole thing seem funny.

But the smile was short lived when she saw Stiles’ hand. “What did you do?” She asked her eyebrows drawing together as she grabbed a napkin and wrapped it around his hand.

The Sheriff frowned. “You should wet it,” he said taking a napkin and getting up so he could wet it under the sink. “One of you please tell me what’s going on. No more secrets,” he said as he walked back over to the table with the wet napkin.

He grimaced just a little as they tended to his hand. “It’s fine. It’s not a big deal, it doesn’t even hurt.” He looked at his dad. “Dad...the night that Mom…” He swallowed hard. “The car accident.” His voice dropped and he glanced at Lydia, a pained expression on both of their faces before he turned back to the sheriff. “Can you tell us the story? Not what happened, but -- about the girl that you talked to.”

The Sheriff frowned, “Stiles--”

“Please,” Lydia cut him off softly, “Please.” She repeated her voice soft as she wrapped a dry napkin around Stiles hand and held it there.

The Sheriff glanced at them and between the look his son was giving him and the Lydia’s voice echoing in his head he sighed before letting his mind drift back to that night. “It was a night eight years ago today. I was at the end of a shift and a call came in,” he paused his chest tightening, “There was a pileup and a teenage girl was trapped under a turned over car. We had to wait for the paramedics, but I knew...I knew we were never getting her out.” His voice lowered.

Lydia’s chest grew tight as she listened to the Sheriff talking about her sister.

“But I was able to hold her hand...She knew she was going to die. But I just kept telling her no, no listen the paramedics are on their way.” The Sheriff was so caught up in his story that he didn’t see the tears in Lydia’s eyes or the way she clutched at his son.

“And I remember her hand suddenly gripped mine so tight that I literally thought she was going to break the bones.” He took a deep breath, pain filling his chest as he continued, “And as she looked me in the eye she said, ‘if you want to be with her, go now.’ and I knew she was talking about my wife.” His voice choked up, but he kept going.

“But then that other part of my brain, the part that looks for clues, that looks for fingerprints for logical connections, that part told me that there is no way this girl could possibly know about Claudia.” The Sheriff didn’t say her name often so when the words came out he needed to breathe deeply to keep his emotions in check.

“And so I stayed. I stayed until the paramedics pulled her out, until her heart stopped beating and they declared her dead.” At this point the Sheriff had tears in his eyes as he held Stiles gaze. “When I got to the hospital I saw you sitting in the waiting room with your head in your hands and she was already gone. You were with you Mother when she died because I didn’t believe.” He said a tear falling down his cheek. “I’ll never forgive myself for not believing her, for not taking it more seriously and for making you be there on your Stiles, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for the two of you.” He dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Stiles had heard the story exactly once -- the same night that his mom had died, but he knew it by heart anyway. He felt his own chest tighten painfully at the faraway, haunted look in his dad’s eyes, at the way that Lydia clung to his hand. He had to be strong now, for both of them. They needed that right now. He reached his free hand out and laid it on his dad’s shoulder even as tears welled in his own eyes. He blinked rapidly to hold them back.

Hearing it again now, knowing what he knew hurt in a different way than it had hurt the first time eight years ago. Knowing that Lydia’s sister had been the one he’d stayed with, that he’d tried to comfort until she’d passed away, made it both easier and harder for him to understand things. To see them in a different perspective.

Lydia spoke, quiet tears streaming down her cheeks, “It was my sister,” she said softly, “The girl in the car was my sister.”

“Dad.” His voice was thick. “You did the right thing. Staying that night. I was with Mom, and you were with Lydia’s sister. I think that’s what was supposed to happen.” He turned his head to look at Lydia. Beautiful Lydia that he’d loved for so long. Then he turned back to his dad. “You have to forgive yourself, Dad. Please,” he whispered.

The Sheriff looked between them and as he studied Lydia he could see the resemblance now that he was looking for it. He covered his face at his son’s words, knowing he was right. He’d hated himself for so long for leaving his eight year old son to do what he should have been there do to. But Stiles was right. The Sheriff shifted and pulled his son into a hug holding him as he spoke, his voice muffled with grief, “How in the hell did I get such a smart kid?” He whispered.

Stiles’s body shuddered involuntarily as he hugged his dad tightly, closing his eyes and burying his face in his dad’s neck. “Your kid got it from his parents,” he whispered back. The grief welled up within him and tears formed behind his eyelids but he didn’t open them, didn’t want to shed them because this wasn’t about him. This was about his dad understanding that Stiles forgave him and that he needed to forgive himself.

After a minute, he lifted his head and looked back at Lydia, reaching his hand out toward her wordlessly.

She took it as the Sheriff shifted back shaking his head as he worked on pulling himself together. “This wasn’t how I planned the morning going,” he said suddenly as he reached for a napkin because there weren’t any tissues on the table.

Lydia did the same with her free hand. Seeing Stiles and his Dad so worked up and finally getting everything out after so long pulled at her heart. “Thank you for staying with Elizabeth,” she said when both Stilinski’s had calmed down a bit. “I know it hurt, but it means a lot to me that she wasn’t alone, so thank you.” She said the words softly and the Sheriff reached out and squeezed her arm gently before turning to face Stiles.

“We’re all going to be okay,” he said finally, his voice thick with emotion.

Stiles exhaled slowly, sniffing and looking between them, knowing that somehow, as awful and as painful as it was, two out of the three people who mattered the most to him were finally on the path to healing painful wounds, and it was largely thanks to Derek Hale. There was irony there somewhere, he was pretty sure. He’d have to send him a balloon-o-gram or something. And possibly hide somewhere nearby with a camera just to capture the man’s reaction on film because he imagined it would be pretty priceless.

He hugged Lydia, rubbing her back for a moment and then looking at his dad. “We should eat. The eggs are probably getting cold and Lydia’s a good cook.” His voice was lighter than before. But there was still a tug of pain in his heart as he sat back down to eat.

The Sheriff chuckled as he wiped a hand down his face again, “It really does smell good...even if that is turkey bacon,” he said sending them a knowing look. He glanced up and caught Lydia’s gaze convinced that had she not been there he and his son would have spent yet another year without really talking. “Thanks for this Lydia.”

She wiped her eyes while leaning into Stiles’ touch. “Any time.” She said quietly. She was glad that she could help, that being there did something for them. It was still a sad day, but now at least they could all move forward.

_______


Stiles parked his jeep in the school’s parking lot later that morning, worrying his lower lip with his teeth and turning off the engine. He drew in a breath and let it out slowly, turning his head to look at Lydia, who was sitting in the passenger seat. He wasn’t surprised to find her watching him. He reached out, laying a hand on her arm. “I didn’t get a chance earlier. To thank you.” He looked down for a moment. “That’s the first time that uh -- we have this ritual of avoidance usually.” He wondered how Lydia usually spent the day because it occurred to him that he didn’t know. “Do you have any, you know, traditions or uh, things you do today?” Because if she did, maybe they could find a way to incorporate it into the day, if she wanted to share that part of herself with him.

Lydia watched Stiles closely as she reached up and fingered the necklace she wore. Her sister’s necklace. “My parents usually go out of town,” she admitted quietly. “Even after all these years, I don’t think they’ve dealt with what happened, so instead they keep themselves busy.” Leaving her alone as usual to deal with everything on her own. Sometimes Lydia felt like she was the one who was the parent.

“I usually go to the cemetery. I bring Eliza’s favorite flowers, calla lilies, and,” Lydia paused, she’d never opened up this much to anyone about her sister, not even Jackson. “I talk to her sometimes...sometimes I yell. It’s the one time I let my emotions control me. I say what I feel and it’s not always pretty, but there’s so much I’ve never gotten to say to her. There’s guilt and anger and just a whole eclectic array of emotions burgeoning inside of me that sometimes it feels like I’m going to explode.”

Lydia took a deep breath and let it out slowly before glancing at Stiles again, half a smile on her face. “This is the first year that I don’t feel that panicked ball of emotion cluttering my common sense. I--I’m not angry at her anymore. I feel like for the first time I know who she was or at least a little bit of it.” Lydia’s teeth sunk into her bottom lip. “Would you be okay with me going back to see Derek sometime? He knows more about my sister than I ever did and...I’d really like to know what she was like and how she handled being what we are.” She explained.

His gaze dropped to her necklace when she fiddled with it and his chest tightened a little. He hurt for her, because as much as he and his dad usually avoided each other on this day, and avoided talking about his mom in general, he knew that her parents had done a lot more damage to her by actually leaving town and leaving her to deal with everything on her own. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her arm as he listened to her. Cala lillies, he thought, storing that information in his mind for later.

Stiles didn’t usually talk when he visited the cemetery with his dad. Neither of them did. They usually took flowers, cleaned off her headstone of any stray weeds or leaves, and stood in relative silence for a few minutes before separating. Usually his dad had to go back to work and Stiles would either go home or he’d go to Scott’s. It was one of the rare times that he actually used the McCall’s front door instead of climbing through Scott’s bedroom window. At least before he had a key made to the house, anyway.

“I’m glad,” he said softly, squeezing her arm. He was glad that the information Derek had provided had given her peace of mind. When she asked about going back to see the werewolf, he nodded. “Yeah, of course. Whenever you want.”

Lydia smiled, “You’ll come with me if I go?” She asked. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Derek, if anything he had more reason not to trust her after what she’d done. But anything involving her sister was close to her heart and she didn’t really know Derek all that well. Having Stiles there would make her more comfortable.

Stiles slid his arm down her arm and laced his fingers through hers. “You don’t even have to ask.” Distantly it occurred to him that Peter had specifically targeted Lydia because he probably believed that there was a good reason that she shared the same powers that Elizabeth had. Which meant that he probably also had a good wealth of information that they weren’t privy too, and that wasn’t good. It meant that he wanted to keep it to himself for some reason, probably some very selfish, diabolical reason and for just a second, his jaw tightened. One way or another, Peter Hale wasn’t going to use Lydia for his own purposes again. Not if Stiles had anything to say or do about it. He’d helped kill the man once already anyway. He looked out the windshield. “I guess we better head in.”

Lydia followed his gaze and nodded. “Yeah, probably. I’ve got a test in Biology,” she paused, “We’ve got a test in biology.” She corrected. “I’m going to ruin the curve,” Lydia said confidently with a grin before squeezing Stiles’ hand and then releasing it as she reached for the door handle a slight flutter taking up residence in her stomach.

That was new and mildly unwanted. What in the world was she nervous about? Lydia pushed the door open and got out of the jeep.

Stiles smiled faintly and pushed open the driver’s side door, climbing out and locking the doors with the button on his keys. He slid the keys into his pocket and met Lydia at the front of the vehicle. “Like ruining the grading curve is anything new for Lydia Martin,” he teased lightly, glancing at her sideways as he pulled his bookbag onto his back.

Lydia smirked, “This is true. I do so love watching the uneducated squirm.” She said with a sigh before glancing sideways at Stiles. They stood there for a minute as she adjusted her bag over her shoulder. Lydia held out her hand to Stiles, “Ready?” She inquired softly.

He smirked, too, shaking his head at her comment and then looking back at her, seeing tension grip her as they looked at the school. He felt it, too. No, he wasn’t ready. Not really. But he doubted she was either. He reached out and took her hand, watching one of the buses roll up in front of the school, students flooding off a second later as they made their way toward the building, as well.

“We’re breaking the laws of physics,” she teased lightly trying to get some of the tension to leave his body. “Ignore them, none of them matter.” Lydia paused, “That’s actually my daily motto,” she mumbled to herself before shaking her head. “Come on, you can walk me to my first class. There might even be some PDA’s involved,” Lydia said as she closed some of the distance between them.

She’d never been one to let what people say or think get to her, she was Lydia Martin. But she also wasn’t stupid. The second they walked into that school things changed for them. They hadn’t really discussed what they were, but honestly Lydia didn’t think they needed to. She was pretty sure she and Stiles were on the same page. At least she hoped they were.

Stiles was pretty sure they were breaking a lot of laws besides physics laws. He was fairly certain they were about to jack up the entire social hierarchy that was Beacon Hills High, and he hoped that she really wouldn’t be bothered by it, even if it made him nervous for her. It was no secret that he’d grown up with exactly one friend -- Scott McCall. And sure, when Scott was bitten and became the star of the lacrosse team, Stiles’ own social status had gone up a couple of points. But he still had very few actual friends.

Lydia, on the other hand, was like the shining star of Beacon Hills. Everyone feared, loved or admired her. There were exactly zero exceptions.

Glancing at Lydia, he watched her toss her hair over one shoulder and he bit back a smile. She was brave, that much he’d already known. But there was a difference between being brave and facing down the supernatural and being brave enough to face down dubious stares and looks from your peers at school. “Just to be clear, what does PDA involve?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound too eager.

Lydia smirked as she tugged him forward, “Stiles, you have reached boyfriend status,” she said nonchalantly glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, “PDA involves tasteful touching in public,” she told him, “Though I’m not opposed to some not so tasteful touching in less than public places.” She said with a hint of mischief in her gaze. She was teasing...and not really teasing, but mostly Lydia was wondering how he’d take the boyfriend comment.

He was pretty sure that his 15 year old self would have actually peed himself right about then. He, however, was going to be the mature 17 year old that he actually was and just grin stupidly. “Okay, that is definitely good to know. I will keep both of those things in the forefront of my mind.” Because those kinds of things would definitely be important enough to keep in the forefront of his mind. “So um, less than public places would be places such as…”

Lydia bit the inside of her cheek doing her best not to laugh at his eagerness because if she was being honest, she was pretty eager too. Stiles was a better kisser than she would have thought. A lot better. “My house, your house, your car, my car, the janitor’s closet, the empty second floor chemistry room, the locker rooms...Do you want me to keep going?” She asked amused.

Stiles felt overwhelmed, but in a good way as she listed off all the places that were acceptable make-out areas. “I will never look at the janitor’s closet the same way again,” he said as they walked. Or any of the other places, for that matter. He spotted Scott, leaning against the locker beside Stiles’ and he felt his chest tighten. Scott always remembered what the day was, and since he hadn’t texted to let his best friend know he wouldn’t be at school that day, Scott must have figured he was actually going to be there.

When they stopped walking Lydia followed Stiles’ gaze and she saw Scott. She squeezed his hand, “Go, you can find me later,” she said softly understanding that Stiles needed some time with Scott. Lydia leaned over and pressed her lips to his cheek, letting them linger there for a moment.

He closed his eyes when she kissed his cheek. “Okay. I’ll see you in bio,” he told her quietly, reluctantly letting go of her hand and walking over to Scott. “Hey dude.” He smiled, but it was faint.

Scott’s brows had arched at the scene he just witnessed, but he left it alone for the moment, “Hey,” he reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder knowing how hard this day was for Stiles. “I didn’t think you’d be here today,” he commented lightly.

Stiles drew in a breath. “Yeah, yeah me either, but…” He looked back toward where Lydia had vanished around the corner and then turned to Scott again. “I need to fill you in on some stuff. You wanna ditch first period with me?”

Scott nodded, “Always,” he said his brows drawing together in worry as he motioned back towards the way Stiles had come. “What’s going on?” He asked quietly noticing that there were more eyes on them than usual.

Stiles turned to look; taking note of the hushed whispers all around, at the people looking at him like he’d committed a mortal sin of some kind. “I sorta...broke all the rules of the social hierarchy when Lydia and I came in holding hands and talking about the best make out spots.” He shrugged and turned to look at Scott.

Scott’s mouth dropped open almost comically. “I knew something was going on with you two!” He jabbed his finger in his best friend’s direction accusingly. “You didn’t tell me?” There was a hint of hurt in his voice. “How long has this been going on? Are you dating? Holy crap how are you still alive right now?” Scott was pretty sure every version of Stiles was on some kind of cloud nine ethereal plain. “This is happening?” He asked as they continued walking to the exit.

Stiles clapped a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “Other than my dad you’re the first to know, and we didn’t exactly tell him so I’m not sure he even counts. And just since yesterday. Last night, actually. I haven’t been holding out on you,” he said honestly, walking with Scott toward the East exit of the school. “She called me her boyfriend, so yeah, I guess that means we’re dating.” He grinned a little, ducking his head.

Scott’s grin widened, “You’re dating Lydia Martin,” he said with a chuckle, “You’ve wanted that since third grade dude,” he glanced at Stiles, “Maybe today isn’t such a bad day after all.” He said as he patted his friends back.

He smiled at that, opening the door and leading them outside and turning to face Scott, walking backwards. His expression grew more serious once more. “Dude. We went to see Derek yesterday. He had some information for Lydia.”

Scott blinked, “Derek had information for Lydia?” He repeated confused. “That seems...weird.” Derek didn’t really interact with anyone outside of him, Isaac and occasionally Stiles. Why he’d had anything to talk about with Lydia was beyond him. “What happened?” He asked curiously.

“You’re not even gonna believe this.” He shook his head as he turned to face forward so they were walking side by side again. “I can hardly believe it myself. But apparently Lydia’s sister was involved with Derek’s family.” His stomach tightened into a knot. “And not just Derek’s. Mine, too.” He rubbed a hand over his face. He could tell by the look on Scott’s face that he’d confused his best friend, so he kept going. “She was like Lydia. Immune to the bite. She was bitten by another pack’s alpha, but she didn’t turn. I don’t know all the details but she knew Derek’s family before the fire. Dude.” He looked at Scott. “She was a banshee, too.”

Scott stopped walking, “Are you kidding me?” But by the look on his best friends face he wasn’t. “Lydia’s sister was a Banshee?” Scott picked up his pace again heading for Stiles’ car. “What does that mean? Does it run in her family? How did Derek know her? How was she involved with his family?” Scott couldn’t help the barrage of questions that flew from his mouth. It wasn’t every day that Stiles dropped more than one huge bomb on him in the span of a few minutes.

The way Scott was firing questions at him made Stiles wonder idly if he’d stolen one of his Adderall or something. Though in fairness to Scott, that had been a pretty shocking twist to their story. “Yeah. Not really sure about any of those yet.” He climbed into his jeep, waiting for Scott to do the same, and he slid the keys in the ignition. “We didn’t exactly get all the details because…” He drew in a breath, staring ahead, knowing the next thing he told Scott was going to shock his best friend even more. “You remember the car accident ten years ago?”

Scott nodded, “Yeah, I remember.” He wasn’t sure why Stiles was bringing it up. “The one that your Dad--” he let his words trail off not wanting to upset his friend. “Yes,” he said again simply waiting for Stiles to help him make the connection.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, then turned to look at Scott. “It was her sister’s car that crashed. It was her sister that died that night.” He swallowed hard, laying his head back against the headrest. “Scott...she predicted my mom’s death.”

Scott’s eye’s widened as he took in his best friends words. Lydia’s sister was the reason the Sheriff didn’t make it to the hospital. She also knew Claudia was going to die. He stayed silent for a minute trying to find the right words but they never came.

Scott ran a hand over the back of his neck before reaching out and gripping Stiles’ shoulder. “Wow...are you sure?” He asked quietly.

Stiles’ expression was pained when he looked at his friend again, nodding slightly. “Yeah. That night was just -- I mean it was chaos? And I don’t think anyone put the pieces together until recently.” His jaw tightened ever so slightly. “Except one person.”

Scott’s brows furrowed as he shifted in his seat angling his body towards Stiles. “Who?” He asked.

“Peter Hale.” He rubbed his hand over his face again, staring out the windshield. “I think he knew all along. I think he went after Lydia, specifically, knowing there was a possibility that she was like her sister.” And Stiles didn’t think Peter would’ve cared at all if it had turned out he was wrong and Lydia had rejected the bite and died.

Realization crossed Scott’s face. “Peter always seems to know things,” he commented. “He came back to town with Derek...Do we know where he is? You don’t think he’ll come after Lydia again do you? He seemed pretty civil the last time he saw her.” Then again why wouldn’t he be civil in front of people, thought Scott.

“Yeah, he does. Sorta like Deaton,” he said, gripping the steering wheel a little more tightly. He wasn’t exactly pleased with Scott’s boss for withholding information he definitely knew about, but at least Deaton hadn’t attacked and hurt anyone, so he was above Peter in that respect. “I don’t know. But if he does, I’m gonna kill him.” There was no hint of kidding in Stiles’ tone as he started his jeep’s engine and put it into gear.

Scott could see the truth on his friends face and he swallowed hard. “You know I always have your back and Isaac has ours, probably Derek too if it came down to it.” He told his friend. “We won’t let him get near her if that’s his plan.” Scott said leaving no room for argument.

Stiles glanced at him sideways, reaching out and patting his shoulder. “I know, man,” he said quietly. He hoped it didn’t come to that, but if it did, he had a stash of wolfsbane with Peter’s name written all over it in a trunk in his closet. “So it’s just been...a long twenty four hours. We told my dad this morning.”

Scott winced, “How’d that go?” He couldn't imagine that Stiles’ Dad took it well. Especially after all those years of thinking one thing only to find out another.

He let out a breath. “Well, I think he took it okay. I think it actually helped. I mean, now he knows that him staying with Elizabeth -- it meant a lot to Lydia to hear that, I think,” he whispered, focusing on the road ahead of him. “So knowing that makes a difference for him, and that’s good. Scott, we actually all had breakfast together this morning.” He chewed on his thumbnail.

Scott arched an eyebrow. “That’s different,” he said knowing that Stiles and the Sheriff pretty much had their own little routine that they followed and for him to break it...well that was saying something. “So this is a good thing then?” He asked, “Finding out what she was and how it all connected.”

He chewed his lower lip. “I think it helped both of them, yeah.” He focused intently on driving. “Though when we told him we needed to talk to him his immediate question was if Lydia was pregnant.” He groaned.

Scott’s mouth dropped open, “He asked if Lydia was pregnant?” At this point Scott was starting to feel like a parrot, but seriously his friend hadn’t come to him with this much news in a long time. “But she’s not,” he said as he held Stiles gaze wondering if it was possible that she could be, but not wanting to come out and ask. “What did Lydia say?”

“What? No. Dude. No. She’s definitely absolutely not. God.” His eyes were wide and he looked at Scott dubiously. He shook his head. “She thought it was funny.

Scott held up a hand, “Relax, it was just a question. Besides if something that...serious happened I would hope you’d tell me about it. I told you all about it,” he said with a smirk, “Turnabout's fair play or however the saying goes,” Scott said.

“I mean we just started dating or whatever yesterday and...Believe me, yes, you’ll get to hear all about it as payback.” Even now he cringed as he remembered Scott’s emphasizing just how good things were with Allison. Repeatedly. “Well not all about it because some stuff’s private, but you know what I mean.” He shook his head, glancing at Scott sideways. “And speaking of hooking up, how are things going with Kira?”

Scott chuckled, “Nice segway,” he said with a shake of his head. “Things are going okay I think. I mean we’ve sort of hung out a couple of times, but...I like her. You know I like her.” He paused, “She’s sweet, but we can talk about that later,” he said pointedly, “Are you going to tell me how the whole thing with Lydia happened?” Scott wasn’t really sure what was going on with Kira, but he knew that being with Lydia was a big for his friend and it seemed to make the day easier for him to deal with, which Scott was glad about.

“Yeah, I know you like her. I like her too. I mean not like that, obviously, but I think you two would be good for each other,” Stiles said honestly. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Allison, because he did. It was just always in the back of his mind that at the end of the day she was a hunter and Scott was a werewolf and Stiles worried about his best friend. A lot. He blew out a breath, his mind shifting gears again as Scott asked about how he and Lydia had finally ended up getting together.

“We both kinda...yesterday was really rough. Hearing all of it from Derek. I mean we weren’t really prepared for that, you know? We thought he just had like, general banshee kind of information that might help her understand how her powers and stuff worked, but...he brought down this box. It had Lydia’s sister’s necklace in it. He said she helped his family with stuff, which was weird because she would’ve only been like, thirteen when it all started.” Which was obviously way younger than it had started for Lydia. “He said that she was also connected to a human family.” His voice was a little strained at that. “Mine.”

Exhaling, he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “He laid it all out. That she had died the same night as my mom. And I remembered my dad telling me about the car accident. About the teenage girl that he stayed with that night.” He swallowed hard. “We were kind of in shock so we just went back to my house and tried to work on homework and stuff. I mean, we didn’t really talk for awhile. And then when we started talking...I don’t know, we were both upset but trying to figure it all out and she kissed me.” He bit his lip, falling silent once more.

Scott blinked, “Wow,” he knew he’d been saying that a lot, but seriously that’s what it was. ‘Wow’. “I’m glad you guys finally got some closure on what happened and why they happened,” Scott paused, “You know I’m glad Derek reached out to you guys I worry about him,” Scott admitted. “He’s so closed off, but knowing that he reached out and opened up to you guys about stuff kinda gives me hope that things are gonna be different for all of us now. In a good way,” he added quickly.

“That’d be a nice change,” Stiles murmured. “We could use good stuff for awhile. Or you know, permanently. That’d be okay, too.” But Stiles’ mind was still troubled. “Hey uh, Scotty, you remember that favor I asked of you? If something happened to me?” His voice dropped, and his chest tightened.

Scott pursed his lips, “What favor?” He asked trying to play it off. He did not like this favor, never liked this favor. Thinking that something bad might happen to Stiles, well let’s just say it wasn’t something Scott enjoyed. He didn’t know what he’d do without him.

He shot Scott a pained look. It was one he’d learned from Scott and okay maybe he didn’t have his best friend’s freaking puppy eyes, but he knew that Scott knew exactly what he was talking about. “You know what I’m talking about. I need to amend the favor.”

Scott met Stiles’ gaze and sighed, but he nodded. “Okay, what’s the amendment?” He asked quietly acknowledging that yes, Stiles had asked him for a favor whether he liked it or not and he would absolutely do whatever his best friend needed him to do.

“If anything goes wrong. You know with the ritual. Promise me you’ll get Lydia out of my head immediately. Somehow.”

Scott frowned. “We’ll find a way to get you both out Stiles, not just Lydia. I won’t leave you behind. I can’t,” he said his voice pained.

Stiles winced at that because he could no more imagine living in this life without Scott than he could imagine it without his dad or Lydia. He reached out and squeezed Scott’s shoulder. How could he really even ask that? If Scott had asked that of him, Stiles probably would have slapped him upside the head. “Right,” he said quietly.

Scott watched him for a minute and swallowed hard. “I will make sure she’s okay, I promise, but I’m going to make sure you’re okay too.” He paused for a minute to collect his thoughts. “I know this ritual is scary, but it’s going to fix what’s going on with you. And then we can get back to almost getting killed every other week,” he said amused.

He chuckled involuntarily. “Who hasn’t missed that routine?”

“Certainly not me,” Scott joked. “So where are we heading?” He asked as he glanced out the window of the jeep watching as they passed the familiar neighborhood. “You’re not leaving your girlfriend all alone at school for the day are you?” He joked knowing Stiles said they were only skipping first period.

“Definitely not,” Stiles assured him. “I just needed to drive for a while. Get away from any possible prying ears.” He pursed his lips.

Scott nodded understanding, and then smiled. “I still can’t believe the two of you are dating,” he said with a grin. “Maybe after this whole ritual thing you Lydia, me and Kira can catch a movie or something. A double date.” He suggested.

A smile tugged at his mouth at that. “Yeah. That’d be good.” He glanced at his friend sideways. “Lydia’s gonna give her a chance, by the way. I think she was sensing that something was different with Kira and it was making her uneasy.”

Scott arched a brow that was news to him. “I didn’t realize that. I hope they get along. Kira’s a really nice girl and Lydia...well Lydia has her moments.” He joked, “But seriously they’re both nice and smart and it’s going to really be difficult to hang out if our girls don’t like each other.” He said with a frown.

“Lydia’s protective. Even of you.” He shrugged. “I think it’ll be fine though, man. And even if they wind up not getting along, you know, we’ve been friends forever, and that’s not gonna change.” His voice was firm.

Scott leaned back and smiled, “She is? Cool.” He said with a goofy grin. “My friends like me.” Stiles’ words registered in his head. “Oh, of course we’ll be friends always...I’m just wondering if they don’t get along how Lydia and I would split up time with you because you know I knew you first so I think I should get extra days.” Scott said amused as he leaned back in his seat.

Stiles shook his head, amused. “Yeah, we like you, buddy.” He steered the jeep into a U-turn and drove back toward the school. “So joint custody wouldn’t work?” he joked, elbowing him lightly in the arm.

“That depends, Do I get holidays?” Scott asked with a grin as they headed back towards the school.

“And every other weekend,” Stiles assured him.

Scott sent him a mock thoughtful look, “And I guess we can share you on your birthday,” he mused. “I accept your terms. Make sure you let Lydia know.” He said with a grin glad Stiles seemed to be in good spirits.

“I’ll have her sign the forms and everything. No later than end of the day.” He smirked as he parked his jeep in the parking lot of the high school once more. He shut off the engine and turned his head to look at his best friend. “Ready to go back to school?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Scott huffed good naturedly before pushing open the jeep door and hoping out of the car, glad that he got to spend some time with Stiles.

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