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The day after Stiles shifted was an adjustment to say the least. Once familiar and comforting, the world around him now felt like an assault on his senses. Every sound was magnified, every light painfully bright, and every scent overwhelmingly strong. His body ached with the constant urge to shift as his newfound claws itched to break free from the confines of his human form.
Stiles only wanted to be with his pack or have time alone to brood. Unfortunately, he was in the middle of the crowded school hallway amidst a sea of students bustling about, their voices blending into an indistinct cacophony that grated on his nerves. Everything was amplified now, including the shrill shrieks of chalk on boards and the booming sounds of lockers slamming shut. Amidst the chaos of noises from teachers and students, a hand snaked out from the whirlpool of activity and latched onto his arm with surprising strength, dragging Stiles into an empty classroom.
“What the hell, dude?!” Scott yelled after shoving Stiles into the room. “You took the bite?”
“No. I was attacked, and some asshole forced the bite on me.” Stiles' response was terse, a reflection of his frayed nerves. He didn’t want to be late for class; this conversation could have been saved for later. Stiles eyed the clock in the back of the room.
“Dude, why didn’t you tell me?” Scott gave him the infamous puppy eyes.
Stiles shrugged, remembering the prior day's events playing in his head, “I’m in Derek’s pack.” He admitted only feeling slightly guilty.
Scott's features twisted in confusion and hurt, the revelation striking deep. "But I thought we... I mean, after everything we've been through together. You're just going to side with Derek?"
"I need an Alpha, and Derek’s proven to me that he’s got my back." His stance, though defensive, betrayed a vulnerability Scott wasn't used to seeing in him. Stiles didn’t speak it out loud, but he also doubted Scott’s leadership skills. The number of times Stiles was the one to help Scott out was a bit concerning.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Scott's confusion was noticeable, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown.
“That they’re not the enemy.” Stiles placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder, which was promptly shrugged off.
“Maybe not right now, but it doesn’t erase that they were. Erica knocked you out!”
Scott hissed out his reminder. Stiles almost flinched at the reminder.
“We ended up having the same goal in the end, so it worked out.” Stiles shrugged and looked towards the clock on the wall once more. He winced. He was so going to be late.
“The damage is done.” Scott glared.
Stiles’s irritation, simmering just below the surface, finally boiled over. “Damage? What about the damage you did to me?” The words tumbled out, sharp and accusing. His claws pierced his clenched palms, forcing him to take deep breaths.
“What are you talking about?” Scott frowned.
“Gerard? The man who kidnapped and beat me to use me as a message to you.” Stiles arched an eyebrow, his tone laced with bitterness, “Look, I got to go to class. We’ll talk later.” And with that, Stiles left and hurried to class. He managed to make it two minutes after the bell. Of course, that meant he had detention later that day. Just great.
/ᐠ –ꞈ –ᐟ\
“He didn’t know,” Boyd simply stated as he and Stiles sat down for lunch. Stiles did his best to ignore Scott's looks and non-discrete whispering. Stiles never really noticed how bad Scott really was at whispering; it was honestly embarrassing.
Isaac joined them, setting his packed lunch on the table. He raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?" he asked.
Stiles shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding Boyd's intense gaze. "Gerard. Scott," Boyd replied, still fixated on Stiles. Stiles felt a chill run down his spine as he remembered the events that had unfolded, the fear and uncertainty that still haunt him today.
✧/ᐠ-ꞈ-ᐟ\
As the lunchtime chatter swirled around them, Lydia's casual observation cut through the noise like a blade. “Is it me, or has Stiles been kind of adorable lately?” Lydia mused lightly. However, Jackson reacted with an incredulous betrayal, as if the mere suggestion insulted his sensibilities.
Allison nodded in agreement, “Yeah, but I think he and Isaac are dating.” Her gaze drifted to where Stiles and Isaac sat in such close proximity, sharing a plate as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
On the other hand, Scott frowned at the thought of the two together, "He got bit," he interjected, his voice heavy with bitterness.
“Derek gave him the bite?”Allison gasped, her eyes widening in shock as they flicked towards Stiles, only to be met with Erica's piercing glare across the cafeteria. Allison quickly averted her gaze.
“No fucking way,” Jackson growled.
“Apparently, he was attacked, and then he joined Derek’s pack,” Scott remarked with resentment.
Lydia, ever perceptive, hummed thoughtfully as she absorbed the new information. "He doesn’t act like you guys," she remarked, her gaze fixated on the back of Stiles's head. Something was off, and she would get to the bottom of it. She was so sick of being out of the loop.
“He was attacked?” Allison redirected the conversation, “Scott, if there’s some omega going around turning people…” Her eyes darted to look at Stiles before shifting their attention back towards her friends, “My dad has to know.”
“He has amazing control,” Lydia observed, her tone almost admiring. “At least compared to Mcall.”
Scott frowned in offense, "My control isn’t that bad," he protested, though his confidence wavered under Lydia's unimpressed gaze.
Lydia rolled her eyes. “When did he get bitten?” Scott shrugged.
"Yesterday," Jackson supplied after swallowing a bite of his sandwich, earning the attention of everyone at the table. He raised an eyebrow at their collective surprise. "He looked like shit yesterday. I saw Lahey hauling Stilinski into his car during 4th period."
“And you didn’t say anything?” Allison gave the Kanima a look of disgust. Jackson simply rolled his eyes and shrugged in response.
“Well, I guess that explains his new friends.” Lydia frowned, unsatisfied with the limited information given. Stiles got bit, and Derek’s pack found him first; that made sense, but why did something still seem off about this? She glanced at Scott, who was more than troubled about this situation. Lydia couldn’t help but think that this was partially Scott’s fault.
Scott had essentially abandoned Stiles altogether after the incident with Jackson and Gerard. Maybe Lydia was biased, but Stiles deserved better. She could call him annoying, loud, or any insult, but she couldn’t deny that he’s an amazing friend to have in your corner. She wished she had realized this earlier. Stiles was beaten and limping by the time he made it to her that night, but he still helped her, which saved Jackson’s life. In a way, Lydia felt like she owed it to Stiles to be involved. Why would some Omega bite Stiles and seemingly only Stiles? Where was this Omega now? Why hadn’t Stiles come to her about this?
✧/ᐠ-ꞈ-ᐟ\
Lydia hastily approached the library, hoping her study partner wouldn’t skip out. Much to her relief, Stiles sat there with his notebook scattered amongst some textbooks. She eyed the time on her phone: 4:00 pm on the dot. That was odd. How long has Stiles been here? She took a deep breath before sauntering onward and taking a seat.
Stiles didn’t look up or even acknowledge her. His eyes were darting across the pages in his notebook and a small purple journal that sat next to it. Lydia quickly snatched the journal from the table and started to analyze it.
“Hey!” Stiles squawked, his skin became increasingly red, but he tried to play it off with a glare.
“Did I honestly scare you Stiles?” Lydia quirked an eyebrow up and smirked in realization, “I thought you were supposed to have superior senses or something like that.”
Stiles' glare melted as he smiled at the redhead, “Well I’m still me obviously,” He chuckled.
“Obviously.” Lydia agreed with a giggle of her own. Times like these were nice. She and Stiles had gotten into a routine of studying together once a week. It started over the summer, though the sessions were supernatural-related at the time. That quickly shifted into the school year and remained a constant with the addition of studying for their classes as well. Lydia was glad that his transformation hadn’t changed it. Werewolf or not, she would chew him out in a heartbeat if he dared to skip out.
Lydia idly flipped through the journal, quickly scanning the contents of the pages until she spotted something intriguing, “Were-Cat?” She quirked an eyebrow, eyes remaining glued to the page.
Stiles turned pink as he nodded, “Unfortunately, I do not have the badass genes in my DNA.”
“Wait, Lydia’s eyes widened before meeting with Stiles’, “Like a kitten? A kitty cat?”
Stiles let out a loud groan, which promptly got him shushed by the people studying nearby. “Yes like a kitty cat.” He pouted lowly. Lydia had to physically hold back her laugh at how defeated Stiles sounded.
The girl took a seat at the table and looked over his notes again. There wasn’t much written, except for some theories on what type of cat he was. “Did you get bit while they were shifted or human?”
“Human. I thought I was being attacked by a drug addict, before his eyes glowed.” The teen shivered at the memory. Lydia jotted that down in the journal. Something about this seemed very much targeted. Where did the shifter go? Why were there no other reports in town about weird activity?
“We need to look into the police reports for the past week, maybe even the month.” Lydia decided.
“We?”
“As if I’m going to sit on the sidelines while weird stuff is happening again.” She rolled here eyes, “We’ll figure this out Stiles.” She grabbed his hand from across the table and gave it a squeeze. He gave her an appreciative smile in return.