Fandom: Teen Wolf
Authors: Sxymami0909 and Xtremeroswellia
Timeline: Takes place 1 year after the end of ‘Beyond The Sea’
Series: Post Finale AU
Pairings: Stiles/Lydia, Scott/Kira, Isaac Lahey, Sheriff Stilinski, Melissa McCall, Chris Argent, Derek Hale, Cora Hale, Aiden, Ethan, Danny, Braeden, Alan Deaton, Peter Hale, Malia Tate-Hale, mentions of Scott/Allison, mentions of Derek/Lydia, mentions of Stiles/Braeden
Summary: The one year anniversary of Allison's death is right around the corner just in time for a new threat to make it's way to Beacon Hills. With Lydia's banshee powers growing, and dead bodies piling up near the Nemeton, Scott and his pack need to work together to figure out who's behind the latest attacks and what knew evil is on the lose. Tension is mounting in the pack and relationships will be tested when an old ally returns to town with information that could help the pack. But can the pack trust their old friend or has the year passed hardened him to a point of no return?
Author's Note: This is a Stydia story, but it's a slow burn because a lot needs to be rebuilt and there are mentions of other couples and other friendships along the way. One year has passed between this story and 'Beyond the Sea'. You will get to see the missing year in a series of one-shots taking place between 'Beyond the Sea' and this story later on.
Previous Chapters: | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen |
Scott sat on his bed staring down at the book in his hands. His best friend had killed people...quite a few. But they were bad people. He was out there with Morell trying to keep the balance. Scott sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t hate Stiles. He could never hate Stiles that much was true. But at the same time he couldn’t exactly condone everything Stiles went around doing.
He understood the need for balance and the need to protect the people they loved. It was the reason they had killed Peter or tried to. Scott helped because Peter was trying to killing Allison and he was hurting his friends. Scott could get past that. He didn’t like it, but he understood the need to protect the people he loved.
If his friends and family were in danger or his pack was like now and he had too hurt someone to keep them safe...if there was no other way, he could probably do it. But Scott would always exhaust every other option first. But Scott didn’t understand seeking it out. Stiles hadn’t been protecting him or any of their friends when he’d killed these people. Sure, he’d probably been protecting other people...but he wasn’t sure he could understand killing someone for a person you barely knew.
Stiles sat motionless in the driver’s side of his jeep, staring out the windshield. He’d spent the day in Los Angeles, having driven up there to ransack a couple of occult bookstores to see if there was anything useful. He’d gotten one book that seemed like it might be of some help, but it was in Latin, which he wasn’t exactly proficient with. Which meant he was going to need Lydia’s help. But he wasn’t even sure he was going to have a place to sleep for the night short of a motel.
He’d been back for over an hour, just sitting in the road in his jeep, the book beside him. Attempting to read it wasn’t going to get him very far, and he knew that he and Lydia were going to have to talk. He knew that she needed to get control over her newest banshee abilities because otherwise they were going to kill her. He was fairly sure that Scott wasn’t going to ask him to leave until he helped out with that. Not when Lydia’s life was at stake.
Scott sighed again and stood dropping the book on the bed moving anxiously around the room. He needed to talk to Stiles, but honestly he wasn’t sure what to say to him. Scott swallowed hard and walked over to the window. He could see Stiles sitting in his jeep and even though he hadn’t processed much he knew he needed to say something to ease his friend’s mind.
Scott took a deep breath and walked out of the bedroom. He made his way downstairs and through the hallway. When he got to the front door he pulled it open and stepped outside. His chest tightened as he closed the door behind him and walked towards the jeep.
Stiles’ heart started to beat faster in his chest when he saw the front door to the house open and swallowed hard when Scott slowly approached, not looking at him.
Scott pulled open the passenger side door and got into the jeep, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Stiles reached into his pocket, pulling out the nearly empty bottle of Xanax and swallowing it down with the last bit of Pepsi from the can in the drink holder in his jeep just as Scott slid into the passenger seat and shut the door. His chest felt tight, his fingers curled around the steering wheel so intently that his knuckles were white.
Scott was quiet for a minute. “I don’t hate you,” he said finally, “Stiles, you’re my best friend. I could never hate you.” He told him sincerely as he glanced in his direction wanting him to know that he meant every word.
Stiles swallowed heavily at that, turning his head to look at Scott, expression pained. He searched Scott’s gaze. “Do you still want me to stay, though? Knowing what I’ve done?” His voice was barely audible and he looked away.
Scott reached out and rested a hand on Stiles’ shoulder squeezing it gently. “I think you’ve done enough running,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to leave, I never wanted you to leave.” He paused trying to find the right words to express what he was feeling. “I understand you’ve been trying to learn and to study and gain knowledge, but I’m never going to think that you taking off for a year was for the best. We could have gotten through things together, all of us.” He told him, certain that they all could have helped each other heal.
“But the past can’t be changed, all we can do is move forward. That being said,” he searched for his friend’s gaze. “I get the need to protect the people you care about. I know things were different for you out there with Morell, but here...things need to be handled differently. We don’t kill things unless there’s no other option. My goal, the packs goal will always be to save whoever and whatever we can regardless of balance because that’s who we are.”
“We’ve all killed to protect the people we love. We all worked together to kill Peter. We killed the Nogitsune...we kill a threat when there’s no other option, but we don’t seek out those threats.” He was quiet for another minute, “I told the twins if they wanted to be a part of this pack they needed to push aside their first instinct to kill and do things my way...I would feel better if you didn’t train with Morell anymore. She’s not like Deaton, Stiles and I’m sure you know that better than anyone. Her form of balance isn’t a form I can get behind.” He told his friend.
“I don’t think training with Morrell is going to be a problem in the future anyway. She’s not been returning my calls.” He laid his head back against the seat, closing his eyes. He swallowed hard. “It’s not something that...Scott, I didn’t enjoy it. It’s not --” He searched for the words even as he shut his eyes. “It’s not something I wanted to do.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “But people were dying and it didn’t feel like there was a choice.” He hadn’t had the pack there. It had just been him and Morrell. It didn’t mean that he liked it.
It didn’t mean he wished there hadn’t been other options. But sometimes there just weren’t. “And I don’t plan to go seeking things out anymore. Doesn’t tend to work out very well in my favor.” He rubbed a hand unconsciously over his neck where the vampire he’d killed had bitten him. “The balance thing...I understand the basic concept. But it’s not my priority either.”
Scott frowned. “I’ve known you for a long time Stiles and I would never think you enjoyed something like that.” He told him quietly. “This is all going to take some time to process and I don’t think we should tell the pack about the last year. You’re home now and what you did then doesn't need to define what you do now.” Scott told Stiles.
“But I don’t want you to leave again because no matter what you and I will always be family Stiles and nothing will ever change that.”
His chest tightened at Scott’s words, and he wondered, not for the first time, how Scott had such an endless supply of forgiveness and faith in people when they’d done terrible things. When they screwed up time and again. How Scott could be such a good person, even with all the crap he was continually having to deal with. He wasn’t even sure that Scott realized how good of a person he was. He turned his head to look at his best friend.
He didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt a tear roll down his cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Scott’s heart clenched and he reached over and pulled Stiles into a hug, tears filling his own eyes. “Be sorry for leaving,” he said softly, “Not for anything else.” He said tightening his grip on his best friend. “I don’t know why you’d ever think there was anything that could make me want you to leave. You’re my best friend Stiles always, my brother. That’ll never change,” he repeated.
Stiles hugged him just as tightly in return, closing his eyes. He wasn’t honestly sure which time his friend was referring to -- the year he’d been away or when he’d told Scott that morning that he’d leave if Scott wanted him to go. He wasn’t sure it mattered. He swallowed heavily, nodding against him, exhaustion tugging at him even though he knew he didn’t have time for sleep yet. He still had to go and talk to Lydia. After a long moment, he pulled away from Scott, rubbing his eyes. “I drove up to LA today,” he told him, drawing in a breath and picking up the book on the seat between them and holding it out to him.
Scott’s brows drew up in confusion as he took the book from him, “What is it?” He asked opening it and glancing through it briefly.
“A book about summoning. How it’s done, some of the things that can be summoned...and how to stop them.” He pursed his lips. “But it’s all in archaic Latin which...definitely isn’t my strong suit as far as languages go.” He hesitated. “I’m gonna need Lydia’s help for translation.”
Scott nodded, “Ask her, she’ll help. She said she was heading back home for a little bit to switch out clothes or something before heading back to Derek’s.” He told him, “So she’s probably home now doing that. When I spoke to Derek a little while ago he said she’d just left.”
“How’s he doing?” Stiles asked quietly, glancing at Scott sideways.
Scott glanced at Stiles, “He said he’s almost fully recovered,” his tone sounding a bit surprised. “Cora and Lydia are skeptical. He said they’ve been making him stay in bed, but he sounds good.” He told his friend, “If he says he’s doing better I believe him.” He pursed his lips. “I told him about Lydia’s abilities and everything Deaton told us,” Scott shifted in his seat, “I figured he’d want to know the plan.”
Stiles nodded slightly, letting out a breath. “It took longer than usual. Magic was definitely involved. Which means whoever’s summoning these knows Derek’s a werewolf. And they probably know that you are, too. They knew how to block the connection between the two of you, but not the one with Lydia.” He looked out the windshield, silent for a moment. If they had known about that particular connection, Derek would probably be dead now.
A thoughtful expression crossed Scott’s face, “So it must be someone who knows him, but doesn’t know what Lydia is? Or maybe they do, they just didn’t realize how advanced she’s gotten with her abilities. Or maybe Lydia’s connection to Derek is so strong because of how close they are. And the person doing this didn’t know about it. Either way I’m glad at least she was able to feel it; I never would have forgiven myself if something had happened to Derek. He’s important to me, to the pack.” he admitted quietly.
Stiles considered that, nodding slowly. That all made sense in his mind and he drummed his fingers absently on the steering wheel, feeling himself start to relax thanks to the Xanax and the knowledge that Scott didn’t hate him. Wasn’t even mad at him. “What’s the obsession with arson victims, though?” he asked, not expecting Scott to have an answer. “I mean, if we can figure that out we’ll be a lot closer to figuring out a suspect.” Right now Stiles didn’t even have a running suspect list.
Scott nodded, “I agree. We need to find out who's doing this, I’ll look into it, maybe I’ll see if Cora can help me. But right now you should go talk to Lydia. Now that Derek’s out of the woods and we’re waiting to hear from Peter and Malia, I need to know that she’s okay I’m worried. You’re the only one who can help her.” He said softly.
“Just be careful,” Stiles said quietly, turning his head to look at his best friend. He’d seen how much damage had been done to Derek in a short amount of time. It hadn’t been pretty. He reached out and put his hand on Scott’s shoulder. “I’ll go see Lydia.” He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “We’ll figure this out.”
Scott smiled, “I know you will, you always do.” He said quietly before squeezing his best friend’s arm gently and then pushing open the door. “I’ll call everyone together for a meeting. Derek’s loft in a few hours?” He asked, “We can tell them about you and how we plan to deal with this...all of this.”
Stiles met his eyes. “Yeah, sounds like a plan.” There was a flicker of familiarity about everything, the rightness of being back and helping Scott deal with the new brand of crazy supernatural thing that had rolled into town. “Scott? Thanks, man.” His voice was soft.
Scott smiled, “You don’t need to thank me dude.” He patted his back again and then pushed the door open and got out of the car. “I’ll talk to you soon.” Scott told him shutting the door behind him.
He watched as Scott headed away from the jeep and back toward the house. He hesitated a moment, then started the jeep’s engine and steered it down the road toward Lydia Martin’s house. He just hoped she was still there and not back at Derek’s yet. He was fine with the two of them being together, but it didn’t mean he wanted to see it all the time either, even if they weren’t big on PDA of any kind, which he was thankful for.
He switched on the radio, then gripped onto the steering wheel more tightly.
”Nobody said it was easy...it’s such a shame for us to part. Nobody said it was easy...no one ever said it would be this hard. Oh take me back to the start.”
Lydia pulled a few pairs of panties and bras out of her drawer and walked over to her bed tossing them in her bag. She walked over to the closet and studied her outfit choices. It was midafternoon and she’d just gotten back to her house less than a half hour ago. She’d spoken to Scott who’d filled her in on how her new wonderful powers were apparently on their way to quite literally sucking the life out of her.
And of course, Stiles was the only one who could help her. She sighed. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since he’d dropped them all back off at the loft, not that she’d expected to. Lydia grabbed a couple of dresses, the one pair of jeans she owned and some skirts and blouses. She tossed them in her bag before moving towards the mirror and glancing at her reflection. Her hair was clipped to the side and she was in one of her favorite dresses.
Lydia glanced at her bed contemplating a nap. She shook her head. She needed to get back to the loft and check on Prada. She tossed a couple of pairs of shoes into the bag and then moved back to her closet again wanting to make sure she had everything she needed.
Stiles parked his jeep on the road in front of Lydia’s house. God, it felt like it had been an actual eternity since he’d last been there. In some ways, it had. He sat there for a moment, willing himself to be calm, to just be open and honest with Lydia. Her life depended on it and he would do whatever he had to in order to make sure she stayed alive, and safe. Even if it was painful for him because opening himself up fully to that connection between them...he had a feeling it meant that it was going to open a virtual floodgate of things he’d been stuffing down for a long time.
Swallowing heavily, he picked up the book, shut off the jeep’s engine, and headed for her front door. Her car was in the driveway. She was home. Good. He didn’t see her mom’s car. That was also good, considering as far as he knew, her mom was still completely clueless about the kinds of things that went on in Beacon Hills. He strode toward the door and rang the bell. Then he waited.
Lydia had just dropped her bag on the floor when she heard the doorbell ring. She frowned as she glanced towards the bedroom doorway. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Lydia made her way out of her room, down the hall and downstairs. Her bare feet hit the floor and she walked forward unlocking the door and pulling it open.
Surprise crossed her face when she saw Stiles standing there. Lydia shifted her hands tugging lightly at the short hem of her dress. “Hi,” she said softly not sure what else to say.
“Hi,” he said just as softly. He hesitated. “Are you busy?” There was uncertainty in his voice, his more recent self-confidence vanished as other familiar emotions flowed through him, ones that he’d always associated with Lydia. Fondness, adoration, admiration. Love. But also the fierce need to protect. To make sure that she was safe. Happy.
Lydia shook her head, “No, not really,” she paused and then realized she was standing right in front of the door. She swallowed hard and shifted aside, “Did you want to come in?” She asked uncertain remembering the last time she’d asked him the same question and was met with a resounding ‘no’.
“Yeah, if that’s okay,” he told her, offering her a hesitant smile. “Scott mentioned you were probably here for awhile.” He took a step into the house, glancing past her, but not hearing or seeing any signs of her mom or anyone else. “I hope it’s okay that I came by.”
Lydia closed the door behind him and locked it. “I came back to get some stuff,” she nodded as she glanced at him, “Yeah, it’s okay.” She told him finally though honestly it was a little weird. It had been a long time since Stiles was at her house. “You left so quickly the other day I didn’t have time to thank you for helping and everything,” she said as she flipped her hair over her shoulder, a nervous habit of hers.
Stiles watched her, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I actually wound up driving up to Los Angeles not long after I left the loft. Our library’s okay, but there are a couple of bookstores up there that were more helpful.” He held up the book he was carrying. “I think I found one that might have some answers.” He paused. “But that’s not the main reason I came over.”
Lydia arched an eyebrow her gaze drifting to the book noting the title was in Latin. “You can’t read it,” she pointed out as she reached for the book taking it from his hand. Her gaze met his again curiosity in her eyes, “You didn’t come over to use me for my knowledge in dead languages?”
Stiles winced at the way she phrased her words. “I can read parts of it. Just...not well. But no, I came over because...I think it’s time we sat down and talked.” His voice was quiet.
Lydia pursed her lips as she clutched the book in one hand, “Talk? Didn’t we already do that on Thanksgiving?” She asked avoiding making eye contact with him as she glanced at the book. “We’re fine.” She told him.
“No. We’re not,” Stiles said softly. “And that’s my fault.” He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “You asked me a question when you were staying at the house.” He was careful not to call it his house. “You asked me if I wanted to fix things. And I didn’t answer.”
Lydia felt her heartbeat quicken at his words. She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes and angled her head to the side. “No, you didn’t.” She stated.
He hesitated, then moved to sit down on the sofa, hoping she’d do the same. “I do want to fix things,” he told her. “I’m just...not sure how.”
Lydia studied Stiles for a moment before sighing. She shifted so she was standing near him, but she didn’t sit. “I can’t tell you how to fix things,” she said quietly, “Because I don’t know how...So you’re on your own with that.” Lydia told him lightly.
He pursed his lips, looking up at her. “My question is...do you want to fix things with us?”
Lydia looked away from the book and finally met Stiles’ gaze. “Yes,” she said quietly, “But things aren’t always that simple.” She wanted things to be better with Stiles. She wanted to get back what they lost, but the hurt inside of her ran so deep, Lydia wasn’t quite sure how to push it aside. She didn’t trust him the same way she used to and it was hard to come to grips with the fact that the person she thought she could always count on no matter what hadn’t been there when she needed him most.
Stiles’ chest tightened and he nodded, looking down at the floor and clasping his hands together at his knees. “No, they’re not,” he agreed. “I get that. But I want to try. I know it’s gonna take time and I’m okay with that. I’m not going anywhere again.” He swallowed hard.
Lydia couldn’t help how his words sparked the tiniest hint of warmth inside of her. Stiles was staying. He wasn’t running away or avoiding her. She swallowed heavily and straightened up. “Well, if that’s the case...there’s something I need your help with.” She told him.
“Your powers,” he guessed, looking up at her and nodding.
Realization crossed Lydia’s face. “That’s why you’re here. Scott told you.” She stated. No wonder he had stopped by, it was a life or death situation. Lydia did her best not to let disappointment fill her chest. “Can you help?”
“Scott told me,” he agreed, trying to read her expression. “But I wanted to talk to you anyway, so it worked out.” He drew in a breath. “I think I can help.”
Lydia nodded, “What do we do?” She asked cautiously as she turned his book over in her hands, needing something to do as they spoke.
Stiles rose to his feet, resisting the urge to twist his fingers together nervously. “We need to work on our connection.” His voice was quiet and he braced himself for her reaction to that. He remembered her reaction at Thanksgiving a couple days before, how she’d shut him out and Scott, and probably the rest of the pack, as well.
Lydia rubbed her lips together scrunching up her face slightly, her body automatically taking a step back as he stood to give him more room...and possibly put a little bit of space between them because when he was close her ability to concentrate faltered. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” she told him keeping her tone casual.
Stiles held his hands up. “Lydia, it’s kind of the key here. I don’t think we have much choice.” He gazed at her. “Deaton said it’s the best way to figure this out so you don’t end up overloading yourself with these new powers you’ve developed. And I think he’s right.”
“Do you?” Lydia asked with an arched eyebrow. “Well let me tell you something Stiles Stilinski, you can’t just come to my house and all of a sudden want to work on a connection that you’ve unintentionally been blocking from me for close to a year.” She told him matter-of-factly as she took a step closer to him, “Especially when it’s for something as idiotic as not overloading my senses.”
Lydia punctuated her words with a poke in the chest. “The last few times I hurt the people I care about because whatever was going on here,” she motioned between them, “Wasn’t working. So I’m going to need a damn good reason to attempt doing that again.”
Stiles winced at her tone, and started to say something when she poked him in the chest. He narrowed his eyes. “Because your life isn’t a damn good reason? Because if you don’t get this under control, it’s going to kill you, Lydia. What about that for a reason?” he asked, annoyed.
“Not good enough,” Lydia snapped right back his annoyance essentially annoying her. “Maybe I want a better reason. Maybe I don’t want you coming to my door to fix things just because everyone’s afraid I’m going to die. Maybe I want more than that from someone who claims he wants to fix things between us,” she told him, “I deserve more. So until you can come up with a better reason, there’s the door,” she pointed, “Don’t let it hit you in the ass on the way out.” Lydia told him pleasantly.
“I’m not leaving,” he informed her, jaw tightening. “I don’t know what reason you’re wanting to hear, Lydia. I care about you, and I don’t want something bad to happen to you. I don’t want to see you hurt, and I definitely don’t want to see you dead. Those were always my reasons for doing everything I’ve done when it comes to you. Always. That’s never changed.”
Lydia fluttered her eyes to the side and let out a bored sigh, “I’m unimpressed not only by your lack of understanding what I want, but by the fact that those are just words. That’s all they are Stiles and nothing you’ve done since you came back tells me those words are true anymore.” She told him as she crossed her arms over her chest in a classic defensive posture.
Stiles stared at her for a long moment. “Look, I’m sorry that I left to begin with.” His voice was quiet. “There’s a lot you don’t know, and I want to talk to you about it if you want to hear it.” His chest tightened.
Lydia ignored his words for the moment. “Let me ask you a question since we’re being all open and honest with each other,” Lydia arched an eyebrow at Stiles, “If Scott hadn’t told you about what my abilities were doing to me. Would you have manned up and come here telling me you wanted to work on our connection? Or would you have left well enough alone?”
“Tonight? Probably not. But yes, I would have, because I didn’t realize that the tether worked both ways until the night of that pack meeting. I had no idea, Lydia. And I definitely didn’t know that I was blocking it.” Stiles told her honestly.
“Also I probably know more than you think,” Lydia told him as she dropped her hands to her sides, “And I want to believe that you would have come to me, I do...But I just don’t think you would have.” Lydia told him just as quietly. Stiles had been keeping his distance from her and while he might not have known he was blocking the connection, that didn’t change the fact that she’d been without it for this long.
Stiles paused at that, not sure what she meant until it dawned on him that of course she would know. She was dating Derek Hale, who knew quite a bit thanks to his angry outburst at the loft the day before. He rubbed a hand over his face, taking a couple steps away from her. “Well, you’re wrong,” he said, troubled that she knew more than he’d told her, that it hadn’t come from him.
“I’m wrong? Stiles the only reason you’re here right now is because of Scott and because you don’t want me to die.” Lydia told him, “You’re not here because you want to be here.” She pointed, “Look you’re already pulling away and completely proving my point.” She told him matter-of-factly.
“I’m not pulling away. I’m trying to process that you know things that I hadn’t actually told you yet.” He sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling. “And no, that’s not the only reason that I’m here, okay? I’m trying to figure this out. Where we go from here. How to do this. It’s not exactly my strong suit.”
“I can see that,” Lydia stated, “And if you didn’t want me to know what you’ve been up to you shouldn’t have left me alone in your house all day long. I have a propensity for searching out information especially when I have nothing to occupy my time.” She responded, “You used to know that.”
Stiles turned to face her, shock flickering across his face as realization dawned on him. “You went through my things.” It wasn’t a question.
“I...Maybe.” Lydia pursed her lips and glanced away from him. She didn’t exactly feel bad about going through his things, but at the same time a part of her regretted doing it.
He swallowed heavily at that, looking down. “So what did you find?”
Lydia was silent for a minute. “Everything.” She told him not wanting to lie.
“That’s why you left without saying anything.” Guilt washed over him. “Because it scared you. Didn’t it?” His voice was quiet.
A rush of guilt filled Lydia and it took her a second to realize it wasn’t hers. Her chest tightened and she swallowed hard. “I left because I didn’t want to be there to begin with. Melissa sort of ambushed me with it. I’m more at home at the loft than I am at the house.” She admitted. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. She had been scared and a whole bunch of other emotions, but Lydia didn’t want to make Stiles’ guilt any worse than she’d felt from him.
Stiles could feel that her words were partially true, but not entirely and it stung. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him. But what had he expected when he’d hauled home his own personal arsenal and books on various occult studies? It was bound to freak anyone out, really. He opened his mouth to respond, and then shut it again, deciding to take another approach to the situation. “So what do you think it is I’ve been doing?” he asked carefully.
Lydia watched him for a minute. Derek had confirmed that the werewolf Stiles had killed, the one she read about, was bad, and had killed close to eleven people. So if she followed that line of logic it was simple to assume what he was doing. “I think you’ve been attempting to keep some kind of balance between things. And I think you’ve been going about it the wrong way.” Lydia responded figuring they might as well get it all out there.
“You’re only partially correct,” he said honestly. “I’ve been training to be an emissary, like Deaton and Morrell.” But his stomach tightened at how quickly she went straight to him doing the wrong thing in the wrong way, even if it was true.
“I know.” Lydia said quietly.
“Derek,” he guessed, looking away and rubbing his neck.
Lydia watched Stiles as she spoke, lifting her arm in a shrug. “We don’t keep secrets from each other.” She said simply.
Good to know, he thought, trying to ignore the twist of bitterness he felt in his stomach. He struggled to try and figure out what to say or do next because it felt like he’d hit a brick wall and he didn’t know what to do.
Lydia frowned not understanding what she was feeling from him at the moment, but knowing it was something. “I don’t know what you want from me.” She told him honestly, her eyes never leaving him. “Or what kind of reaction you were expecting, but you being out there training, doing whatever emissaries do...That doesn’t make me any less angry Stiles.”
“I didn’t tell you not to be angry, did I?” He looked back at her, shaking his head. “I know I don’t have the right to say that to you, or to Scott, or to anyone. And the emissary thing wasn’t even in my plans when I left. I didn’t have a plan. So when Morrell showed up and offered to train me, I went along with it because I thought maybe I’d be able to make some kind of difference eventually.” He let out a breath.
“You could have made a difference here. You did make a difference here. But I guess that wasn’t enough and that’s fine. I felt how hard it was for you and I get not wanting to be the only person who can’t defend themselves...But you still shouldn’t have left.” Lydia told him her gaze once again dropping.
“That wasn’t the reason I left.” It was part of the reason he’d given at the time, but it was far from the sole reason or even the main one.
“Well it’s not like I’d know why you left.” Lydia said as she met his gaze.
Stiles was struggling to keep his emotions under control because he didn’t want to get upset with Lydia, of all people. “I left because I couldn’t stand to look at myself in the mirror anymore. I may not have been myself, but there’s a lot of blood on my hands regardless. It was still me. I still have those memories. And if I didn’t want to look at myself, how was I supposed to be okay with you and Scott and Isaac and my dad and Melissa and everyone looking at me? I wouldn’t have been able to do anything for any of you. I was a wreck.”
Lydia shook he head, “None of us saw you that way!” She snapped, “You didn’t even give us a chance to help you through it. I would have stayed by your side. Scott would have been there. And your Dad and Melissa would have too. You were the only person who saw yourself that way Stiles.” Lydia shook her head.
“You needed us, and we needed you. But this,” she motioned between them again, “Arguing over this is pointless it’s not going to bring back the past year.” Lydia told him.
“I’m not trying to argue about it. I’m trying to give you answers. I thought that’s what you wanted,” he said, clearly getting frustrated. “I’m sorry they’re not the ones you want to hear, apparently. All I can give you is the truth.”
“So now you’re angry at me?” Lydia asked irritated. She could hear the frustration in his voice and she wanted to ask him what gave him the right to be annoyed with her, but Lydia kept her mouth shut, at least on that front.
He forced himself to take a deep breath. “No, I’m frustrated. There’s a difference.”
“Oh, is there?” Lydia asked with an arched eyebrow, the sarcasm clear in her voice. She wished he would get mad at her. She wanted him to yell at her, tell her she was being unfair, defend himself and say she was being a bitch. That she had been being a bitch since he came back. Lydia desperately wanted Stiles to fight for himself, for her, but he just refused to do it and it was making her crazy.
“You know what? Okay. You’re right. There’s no point in talking about this. Let’s just...figure out what we’re doing.” He moved away from her a few feet, needing to put some physical distance between them for the time being.
“What we’re doing? I think it’s pretty clear what we’re doing.” She told him, “We’re arguing because… because you’re an idiot!” Lydia snapped.
“Fine. Then I’m an idiot.” His voice was calm. “But I’m an idiot who isn’t going to let you die.”
Lydia let out a frustrated growl, closed the distance between them, and shoved him lightly. “What is wrong with you!” She all but yelled. “Why are you so complacent? Do you want to know what I want?” She asked not giving him a chance to answer. “I want my Stiles back. I want you to fight back. I want you to stop being so...so,” she paused, “I’m so angry I can’t even think of a word to describe how ridiculous you’re being and I have the best vocabulary of anyone I know.” She ranted.
Stiles stumbled backwards just a little, mostly out of surprise. “Yeah, well I’m not that guy anymore, Lydia. I haven’t been for a long time now. I don’t even know how to be that guy anymore!”
“Well then who the hell are you?” Lydia fumed as she pointed in his direction. “Because I can’t take this anymore. Be honest with me, tell me what you really want,” she poked him in the chest again, “What is going on in there, what have you been hiding from me. You say you aren’t that guy anymore then what guy are you. God, just do or say something real for once,” Lydia snapped, anger and frustration filling her as she yelled at him.
Stiles’ eyes darkened as she got in his personal space again and without warning, his arm shot out and wrapped around her waist, yanking her up against him as he dipped his head down to kiss her, his free hand winding through her hair. His heart was beating hard inside his chest as his eyes drifted shut.
Lydia let out a startled noise, but it was muffled against Stiles’ lips. Her heartbeat slammed against her chest and it took her a second to process what was happening. By the time she did though, Lydia was already winding her arm around his neck, pressing herself harder against him and kissing him back enthusiastically.
Stiles groaned involuntarily as she pressed against him, his tongue sliding across her lips, seeking access to her mouth. His brain completely shut down at that moment, any and all thoughts of work or abilities or daevas or Nemeton’s flying right out the window. He was kissing Lydia Martin. Yes, they’d kissed before but the circumstances had been entirely different, and everything about this was different, too.
Lydia parted her mouth beneath his letting him deepen the kiss as she slid her other hand up his arm, her fingers mapping out the differences in his body making her moan into his mouth. Stiles was an amazing kisser, no if there was a word that meant better than amazing, which she was sure there was somewhere in the dictionary, that would be him. But really Lydia didn’t care enough to think all that hard about it. She was too busy enjoying the feel of his lips against hers.
After a moment he had to break away in order to breathe, but he dipped his head farther and pressed a kiss to her jaw instead, then the side of her throat, backing her up against the front door without a second thought. He slid a hand down to rest against her waist, squeezing her hip gently and nipping at her earlobe.
Lydia sucked in a sharp breath, her head dropping back against the door and slipping to the side giving him better access to skin. A soft noise was pulled from her throat when she felt his teeth against her earlobe. Her hand slid into his hair, nails scraping lightly at his scalp. His mouth was warm and wet and she had to remind herself to breathe. Who the hell had to remind themselves to breathe? The heat from his hand against the fabric of her dress was making it hard for her to think. She could feel the vibration of her heart thundering against her ribs and she seriously wouldn’t be surprised if Stiles could hear it too. She ran her free hand down his chest and beneath his shirt, letting her palm graze the flesh of his stomach.
Stiles kissed his way across her jaw line before capturing her mouth with his once more, tongue caressing her own slowly even if everything in him was screaming for him not to be slow. This wasn’t just some girl. This was Lydia. Even now he had the faint urge to stop and count his fingers and make sure he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating because how was this even happening?
He shuddered as her hand slid against his bare skin and he reached up, sliding his fingers slowly down the length of her pale throat, stroking it tenderly until the tops of his knuckles brushed against her collarbone, trailing back and forth in slow, gentle movements.
Lydia moved her lips over his until her lungs burned with a need for oxygen. She broke the kiss letting her teeth sink gently into his bottom lip briefly before releasing it and arching her body into his touch. Stiles was fucking hot. It was the only thought that swam through her head. Everything about him was hot. His mouth, his hands, his eyes.
The feel of him shuddering at her touch made her eyes darken. She ran her nails down the skin of his abdomen and swallowed heavily, her breathing picking up speed as her chest rose and fell quickly. She lifted her head and let her teeth graze his jaw, until her lips were near his ear. “You’re a little too far away,” she whispered before taking his ear into her mouth and tugging him closer with her hands so he was pressing her back against the door harder.
Stiles laid a hand against the door beside her head to steady himself, eyes dark and glazed over as he looked at her for a moment before brushing his nose against hers, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Better?” he murmured, kissing her chin and then her throat again, hand sliding up her waist a little higher. God, was this really happening? He let his tongue dart out to taste her skin, groaning softly. She was intoxicating and even though some part of him knew they had already crossed so many damn lines when there was still so much unresolved, so much that they hadn’t talked about.
But he still wanted more. He wanted her, period.
Lydia let her eyes flutter shut briefly arousal curling inside of her as his hand slid further up her body, “Definitely getting there,” she whispered her voice breathy as her head lolled to the side again giving him better access to her neck. Lydia curled her hand in his hair tightly as she stretched on her toes to get closer to him. She was pretty sure she’d never wanted anyone this bad in her life, and that was saying something.
He reached down, sliding his arm down to support her as he lifted her up so they were at eye level, his hand wrapped around the back of her right thigh, breathing uneven as he stared at her. “Tell me what you want,” he said quietly. Because what he wanted was pretty damn obvious.
“You, God I want you,” Lydia’s answer was immediate as she held his gaze and wrapped an arm around his neck in an attempt to leverage her body more firmly against his. She let her mouth drop to his jaw nipping lightly at his skin, warm breath hitting his flesh as she spoke. “So fucking bad,” she murmured as she let her teeth graze his skin.
Stiles wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her against the door with his body as he slid his hands down to undo the top button on her dress, shuddering a little at the feel of her teeth against his skin. “Me too,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to her collarbone and undoing the next button, parting the material and kissing down to the top of her cleavage, tongue darting out to taste her skin there.
Lydia lifted her head a soft moan tumbling from her lips as she dropped her hands to the hem of his t-shirt bunching the material up. Lydia wanted it off; she wanted to feel him against her. His tongue sliding across her skin was distracting and her head once again dropped back resting against the door even as her hands continued tugging at his shirt. “Is this really happening?” She mumbled not even sure if she was talking to him or herself.
Stiles shifted, allowing her to pull his shirt off even as a twinge of self-consciousness flickered through him. He wasn’t as self-conscious as he once was, but he still wasn’t built like Jackson or Derek or Scott, either. “Only if you want it to be,” he murmured, undoing the third button on her dress, revealing the lacy bra she wore beneath and sucking in a breath. “God, you’re beautiful.”
Lydia smiled at his words, warmth filling her as she let her gaze travel over his skin, her eyes falling to his shoulders. “If you stop now I might kill you,” She told him. Lydia’s fingers traced the ink on his right shoulder and bit her bottom lip. “This is new,” she whispered, “and sexy.” She dipped her head and pressed a kiss against his shoulder. “I’m probably even more beautiful with it off,” she mumbled against his skin as she moved her body against his urging him on.
Stiles laughed softly at her words, undoing the last button and pulling her away from the door just enough so that she could shrug her arms out of the dress. He shivered when she pressed her lips against his shoulder, against the top of the tattoo that sometimes he still forgot he even had until he caught sight of it in the mirror after a shower. “You’re pretty much always beautiful, Lyds,” he whispered, mouth moving to her neck again and nipping lightly. He groaned when she rocked her hips against his.
Lydia let her eyes fall shut, her heartbeat echoing in her ears as Stiles’ mouth went back to her neck. Her whole body felt like it was on fire. She shivered as his tongue grazed her skin again. “I’ve missed the sound of my name coming from your mouth,” she admitted as she let her free hand slide down his chest between their bodies and rest on his belt.
Lydia slipped her fingers from his hair and gripped one of his hands in hers sliding it up her body until his palm was cupping her breast, her hand resting over it. “We’re done moving slowly,” Lydia stated matter-of-factly as she tilted her head up and crashed her lips to his.
Stiles’ chest tightened at her admission. Jesus Christ. He stroked his thumb over the fabric covering her nipple as he returned the kiss with a renewed sense of urgency. He slid his other hand up her thigh, stroking her skin with his fingers as he raised the skirt of her dress up higher, feeling her hands move to his belt, undoing it even as his heart slammed against his chest.
Lydia arched into his touch breaking the kiss a minute later and turning her head to the side sucking in some much needed air, “Jesus,” she moaned as she finally got his belt undone. Lydia licked her lips unconsciously, quite literally dying to get him inside of her. She slid down the zipper on his pants and was bombarded by a sudden wave of desire.
Lydia paused briefly her heart speeding up yet again if that was even possible. While she was incredibly turned on, the wave of emotion she just felt wasn’t hers...it was his. And that was probably the hottest thing in the world. “I can’t wait anymore,” she demanded impatiently as she slid her hand into his pants cupping him through his boxers.
Stiles sucked in a breath as he watched her lick her lips and then reach her hand into his pants, her fingers curling around his hardness through the fabric that separated them. He dropped his forehead forward, pressing it against her shoulder and kissing her bare skin there even as he slid his hand inside of her silk underwear, groaning as he felt how slick she was already from the little that they’d done.
He slid two long fingers inside her, stroking her with his thumb at the same time. He wasn’t sure he was going to survive this and he was fairly certain he didn’t actually care. He never really thought he’d be here, not with Lydia. He lifted his head so he could watch her as his fingers moved inside of her even as her hips pressed against his hand involuntarily.
Lydia’s head dropped back pleasure coloring her features as his fingers slid in and out of her body. One of her hands slid up his arm clutching his shoulder blade as she momentarily lost focus on anything that wasn’t his hands. “Stiles,” she whimpered his name as she shifted her hips forward. Her other hand finding its way inside of his boxers and gripping his hardened shaft tightly, stroking him slowly as she brushed her thumb over the head of him.
His pupils dilated as he watched her head drop back, her skin flushing with heat. He’d done that and it felt amazing. The way she whimpered his name made it hard for him not to just slide his fingers out of her and thrust into her warm heat. No one had ever said his name like that before. He pressed a kiss to her jaw as he flexed his fingers inside of her again, curling them slightly and enjoying the moans and whimpers that escaped her. He wanted to see her come apart in his arms. Just the idea sent a thrill of pleasure through him and he gritted his teeth as her hand moved over his length, shuddering involuntarily against her.
Lydia’s nails dug into the skin of his shoulder the closer she felt herself get to falling over the edge. Heat surged inside of her and Lydia was convinced she wasn’t just feeling herself but Stiles too. She was practically panting in his arms and she’d probably be embarrassed by how incredibly undone she was coming from just his fingers, if it wasn’t for the sheer amount of pleasure pulsing through her body at the moment.
“More Stiles,” she moaned louder, the words falling from her mouth in a breathy plea. Lydia was moving against his hand as her abdominal muscles clenched; she could practically feel her body tensing in preparation of an upcoming orgasm.
Stiles pressed his mouth against her throat as he eased a third finger inside of her, increasing the pace of his fingers’ movement, thumb swirling around the center of her growing pleasure. He could feel the tension in her body as well as he felt that in his own and it was intense. He dropped his mouth to her chest, suckling her through the lace of her bra, all thought long gone from his mind as he focused on the woman in his arms.
Lydia’s hand threaded through his hair as she arched her upper body into him holding his head to her breast, the feel of his hot mouth against her making his name tumble from her lips in a strangled moan. Lydia bit down on her bottom lip, her breathing harsh, she was so fucking close. She could feel a familiar pressure building in her lower belly as Stiles’ quickened the pace of his fingers. “Oh god,” her hand slipped from his pants as she gripped his body tightly, not able to focus enough to keep her hand moving.
The door was hard against her back and she couldn’t stop moving in his arms. Lydia’s eyes fell shut, her noises growing louder. “Stiles, oh god, right there,” she gasped, “Don’t stop,” her chest felt like it was going to explode as she tightened her thighs around his waist.
Her hand twisted into his hair, anchoring him against her breasts and with one hand, he reached up, tugging the material aside so that he could put his mouth against her bare skin. He lapped his tongue over her nipple as he continued stroking her with his fingers. He could feel how close she was; feel her need curled inside of him like it was his own. Because it was mixing with his own, blending the two together so that he couldn’t tell his own desire apart from hers. Somewhere in the back of his mind it dawned on him that their connection was more open than it had ever been before.
When she tightened her legs around him, he thrust his hips against hers without really thinking about it, the need to be inside of her growing rapidly. But he forced himself to wait, because he wanted to give this to her first, to pleasure her as many times as he could before it was his turn. He panted against her skin, lavishing her breasts with his mouth and tongue, unable to get enough of her.
The sensations Stiles was creating inside of her were too much. Lydia gripped his body tightly any bit of control she had snapping when she felt his tongue against her nipple. Her body jerked forward in his arms and she cried out his name as she came hard against his fingers, her inner muscles pulsing around him as pleasure ripped through her body.
Her eyes were closed, face flush as her chest filled with warmth, the amount of desire flowing through her literally knocking the breath out of her body. Stiles was still moving his fingers inside of her and Lydia whimpered getting lost in not only what she was feeling, but what he was feeling too. Stiles surrounded her invading her senses in every aspect of the word and she was more than happy to lose herself in him as he drew out her orgasm.
Yeah. He was completely certain this was basically the most amazing moment of his entire life, watching as she came undone in his arms, knowing he’d been the reason. He lifted his mouth to meet hers again, enjoying her breathy gasps and whimpers as he mated his forehead to hers. God, he loved her. He’d always loved her. It didn’t matter where he was or how long he was away or who he was with, at the end of the day, he was always going to love her and no one else.
Stiles closed his eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of control over his own body for a little longer, giving her time to recover even as he continued to stroke her gently, still feeling her inner muscles pulsing gently around his fingers.
Lydia took several deep breaths the intensity of everything hitting her hard. “I want you,” she whispered against his cheek. “I need you now.” She cupped his cheek with one hand and captured his lips in a hard kiss, seeking access inside the warm cavern of his mouth as warmth filled her chest. Her other hand slid back down again shoving at his jeans. She could feel him, every part of him and it was the best feeling in the world.
Stiles wasn’t going to argue with that. He shifted back just enough to shove his jeans down, then reached up, sliding her underwear down to her thighs, as well. He paused. “I don’t have a condom,” he admitted, groaning inwardly because of course that would be a problem.
“I don’t care,” Lydia said and then paused running her tongue over her bottom lip as her hand reached between them sliding along his shaft again, “And what I meant to say was, I’m on the pill,” She leaned into him and bit his ear gently, “Is that okay,” she whispered before her lips were back on his skin as she wrapped her fingers around him again.
Stiles shut his eyes, leaning his head against hers as she slid her fingers around him. “God yes,” he mumbled. His hips bucked into her hand of their own volition, his body screaming for more, for his own sanity’s sake. He covered her mouth with his once more, sliding a hand up her body, fingers trailing against her abdomen and over her breasts.
Lydia returned the kiss, her mouth moving hard over his as she continued moving her hand, stroking him slowly. She broke the kiss a minute later her breathing picking up speed again as she used her free hand to try and bring him closer. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone inside of me so bad,” she moaned her breath hot against his skin. Lydia rocked her hips forward gently guiding him to her body, “Help me,” she whimpered, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as need curled low in her belly, a spark of arousal stirring inside of her again.
Stiles had never wanted to be inside someone this much. Not that he’d been with many women. Two exactly, and neither of them was like this. Because neither of them had been her. He shifted at her plea, sliding inside of her heat and shutting his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth and giving her a moment to adjust. “Christ, Lyds,” he whispered, body tense as he held her up, sliding his arms down to wrap around her ass to better support her as he pressed her back against the door. “Christ.” He swallowed heavily, feeling a little dizzied by the feel of her surrounding him in a way he never thought would actually happen, especially now. Not after everything.
Lydia had one arm around his neck and the other beneath his arm and around his back, gripping his body tightly as desire built in her at the feel of him inside of her. She loved when he called her that. She was still taking a minute to get used to the feel of him stretching her inner walls. Lydia could feel him shudder and she grinned, “What are you waiting for?” She asked a hint of amusement in her voice as she stroked his back.
Lydia rocked her hips forward and groaned, “Fuck,” pleasure sparked inside of her, “Stiles, please,” she was whimpering again and Lydia wondered when she’d lost her ability to control the situation and herself.
Stiles drew in a breath at her question, and before he could answer she was moving her hips, driving him deeper inside of her and groaning. He slammed one of his hands on the door beside her head to steady himself as he thrust inside of her, burying his face against her neck as he moved, feeling her nails bite into his skin, enjoying the faint pain sensation mixing in with all the pleasure. He shifted his other hand moving it from her ass to rest against her hip, fingers curling against it to steady her as they moved together urgently, his skin burning everywhere they touched.
Lydia’s hand shifted into his hair, her head tilting back as he set a fast pace, his hips rocking into hers. She moved with him, her breathing growing ragged all too quickly as heat filled her body. The way he gripped her hip, his touch almost bruising turned her on. He slid in and out of her in rough strokes and all she could do was hold on and move against him.
Stiles’ body surrounded hers, he was warm and god she just wanted to touch him, to pull him as close as possible and get lost in him. “So fucking good,” she moaned as she felt herself building towards another orgasm. “God I can feel you,” she mumbled as her nails dug into his back and a soft gasp fell from her lips.
Sweat rolled down his chest and his back as he thrust into her, moving his hand off the door to stroke her as they moved, already feeling like he was close to the edge, and he knew he wasn’t far from diving off that cliff, but he was determined to drag her over it again first. If he stopped for even a few seconds to think about what was happening, to remember that she wasn’t exactly a single woman, that she was with Derek, he was fairly certain they would both implode. So he didn’t think about it. Didn’t think about anything except burying himself inside of her, his lips moving to her earlobe and nibbling on it.
The added sensation made Lydia arch into him and clench her inner walls around him, drawing him deeper inside of her. Stiles felt amazing inside of her and she realized she’d wanted this for a long time. She’d wanted him for a long time. “Stiles,” she whispered his name, her tone holding a hint of breathlessness to it as he moved faster, plunging inside of her. Lydia’s back would probably hurt later, but she didn’t even care. She could feel the door rattling beneath her and the thought that anyone who stopped by would probably see them should have embarrassed her, but it only made her hotter.
Lydia let out a small cry as she was pulled from her thoughts when Stiles hit a particularly sensitive spot inside of her, “Oh god,” the words tumbled from her lips and idly she wondered what happened to the large vocabulary she prided herself on.
Stiles trailed his mouth across her jaw, grinning involuntarily at the noise of approval she made. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins though it had been over twenty four hours since he’d last slept. He thrust into her again, attempting to hit the same spot so she’d make that sound again, his fingers flicking against her as his stomach tightened. He latched onto her shoulder, teeth grazing her skin lightly then soothing the spot with his tongue. Come on, Lyds, he thought distantly, feeling her beginning to tighten around him and groaning.
When he thrust into her again and hit the same spot not once, but twice that was all it took to send her sailing over the edge. Her body lifted into him tension filling her for a few seconds before she came crying his name and thanking god that her house was large and not exactly right next to anyone else’s because she was loud, louder than normal even.
Pleasure rippled through her body as her inner walls clamped down around his shaft. Lydia’s grip on Stiles didn’t loosen as he continued driving inside of her making her body shudder. She could feel how close he was, feel his pleasure building and it made her whimper as the combined sensations completely overloaded her senses in the best possible way.
Stiles’ gripped tightened on her hip just a fraction as she came apart in his arms again and he slammed his eyes shut as he thrust into her a couple more times, shaking as his own release hit and he buried his face against her neck as he tried to breathe, hair damp on his forehead as he kissed her skin, fingers easing away from her and resting against her other hip gently as his chest rose and fell rapidly. He slowly pulled back away from her, looking dazed and wrecked. It took him a moment to realize that she looked the same way.
Lydia sucked in several sharp breaths, her eyes still closed as she leaned against the door, her entire body feeling shaky. “I think you just killed me a little bit,” she let her eyes flutter open and brought a hand to Stiles’ cheek. She brushed her thumb over his bottom lip and sunk her teeth into hers.
“I sincerely hope not,” he murmured, leaning into her touch. He swallowed heavily as he watched her teeth bite down on her lower lip. He kissed her there again, more softly this time, not urgent or desperate like before. Just soft, tender.
Lydia cupped his cheek returning the kiss as her arm slid around his neck. The sound of a soft vibration made her break the kiss. She frowned, momentarily confused, “Are you...vibrating?” she asked softly.
Stiled blinked a couple of times at the question, then groaned as he looked down at his jeans on the floor around his ankles. His phone was vibrating. If things hadn’t been crazy around the place he would have just ignored it. He gave her an apologetic look, kissing her cheek softly and carefully lowering her to the floor before leaning down to grab his pants, dragging them up his hips and reaching into his pocket for his phone, grimacing as he saw Scott’s name on the caller ID. He forced himself to take a deep breath before pressing it to his ear and reaching down to zip his pants. “Yeah?”
Scott stood on the balcony at Derek’s apartment relief crossing his face when he heard his best friend’s voice. “Hey, I was worried, you okay? Because we’re all here for the meeting and you’re not.” He said keeping his tone light as he rubbed the back of his neck.
He groaned. “Right, sorry. Sorry, just...running a little late.” Awkward. So awkward. Jesus. He hoped his voice at least sounded halfway normal. “We’ll be there soon.”
“We?” Scott asked tilting his head to the side, “So you’re still with Lydia? Because we were worried. Derek said he called her a couple of times and she didn’t answer. He said she was just grabbing some stuff and coming back and I told him you were gonna stop by, so you’re together then?” He asked for confirmation.
Stiles’ chest tightened at the mention of Derek and he swallowed heavily. “Yeah. She’s okay. Everything’s fine,” he said quietly, even though it was definitely a lie. He glanced at Lydia, unable to stop his gaze from roaming over her as she buttoned her dress back up. He knelt down, picking up his t-shirt and backing away a little to give her a bit of space so she could move past him. “We’ll be there shortly.”
Scott frowned at the tone of Stiles’ voice, but said nothing for the moment. “Okay, we’ll see you soon.” He told his friend shaking his head lightly.
Stiles drew in a breath and hung up the phone. “Pack meeting.” He grimaced. “We should probably take the time to shower at least?” He tugged his shirt back on over his head.
Lydia watched him as he pulled his shirt back on already feeling the physical distance between them and she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She pursed her lips and bent down tugging her panties the rest of the way down her legs, stepping out of them, and balling them in her hand as she fixed the skirt of her dress. “Probably,” She said keeping her tone light. “Did you want to,” she motioned to the stairs.
He felt a tug of guilt and disappointment and uncertainty and without really thinking about it, he stepped closer to her once more, hesitantly reaching up and smoothing down the collar of her dress, touch light and tender, his palm straightening and gently flattening out over her heart. “Yeah,” he said quietly. He hesitated a moment. “You should probably check your phone. Scott said Derek’s tried to call a couple times.” He felt his throat tighten. “He was worried.”
Lydia could practically feel his body tense and she swallowed hard, “I said I was coming right back,” she admitted. Lydia knew he was worried because of the recent attacks and because that’s just who he was. Plus she was usually always on time, so it made sense that he’d be a little worried.
Stiles nodded slightly at that. “You should text him or call him or something. I’ll be quick in the shower.” The hell of it was, he didn’t regret what had happened between them in the least. And that made him feel like the world’s biggest asshole because he’d probably wrecked her relationship with a guy who basically hated him. He let out a shaky breath, kissing her forehead lightly before moving away and heading up the stairs.
Yeah. World’s Biggest Asshole. He needed some kind of medal or something.
Lydia watched him go and her chest tightened. He wanted her to call Derek? She glanced at the stairs and then at the door making sure she hadn’t just imagined what happened. No, she definitely didn’t. And yet Stiles wanted her to call Derek. Lydia pursed her lips as moisture pooled in her eyes.
Well she guessed that answered that question. Where exactly did they go from here...apparently nowhere. She swallowed hard, pushing down the hurt filling her chest and made her way up the stairs to her room. She needed to grab her bag and get a change of clothes for the shower. Lydia didn’t bother calling Derek she’d see him soon and until then she’d just ignore the spark of pain building in her chest.