Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

But I've had some time alone to hone my lying technique,
I know you think that I'm someone you can trust,
But I'm scared I'll get scared, and I swear I'll try to nail you back up

Jesus Christ - Brand New

Lydia has been bitten.

She has not died yet, so only one option remains possible...

The last descendant of Imogen, within the United States at least, has been condemned to live as a wolf for the remainder of her days. The likelihood of Lydia's children being contaminated with the same affliction is so shockingly high that it makes Nat want to scream and destroy everything in sight!

It isn't fair - it isn't right!

Why must her family suffer so?

She should have done more to save Lydia from this fate, should never have allowed herself to become so distracted by such simple matters.

She refuses to give fate another opportunity to allow further harm come to encroach upon her sister's lineage.

That is why she has not left the hospital for even a brief moment.

Majority of her time is spent by her unconscious niece's side. She reads their class texts to her, knowing Lydia has already finished them all but would despise to fall behind even slightly, along with a few of the latest gossip magazines she had skimmed from the waiting room. There is little she could do to actually help her and seeing the exuberant Queen Bee in such a passive state is almost unsettling. Nat elects to continue her volunteer shifts at the hospital with a renewed false enthusiasm, to detract her wandering mind from constantly considering exactly how long it would take her descendant to finally wake up. It also helps to detract attention from the fact Nat is not actually attending school when she most certainly should be. Surely the authorities could justify this as a form of learning.

But still, every moment not spent solidifying her cover is still spent in Lydia's company. She finds herself strains her hearing any time she leaves the room to ensure that Lydia's unconscious form is still breathing. Her scent is different now, deeper in some way, and Nat dreads the moment it will inevitably become more sour and repugnant.

She does not sleep, barely meditates - even that act jarred by her consistent concern and desire to ensure that Lydia's state has not altered while Nat has been distracted. 

She finds herself bored at times, and almost... lonely. Even as she speaks with other staff and volunteers at the hospital, attempting to find some source of amusement, she finds that something is missing.

Lydia. Lydia is missing. She is still there; but it is not the same. Her incessant chatter would be a welcome distraction from Nat's swirling thoughts about what she had almost done on the night of the dance.

The moments she shared in the school gymnasium with Stiles had been quite enjoyable, even if she still firmly believed it should be her descendant in his arms she could not deny the strange appreciation she felt toward him for the polite gesture to include her in the nights events. Because that is all it had been; he was merely being polite in an attempt to further win the heart of her descendant.

But then everything changed - she had changed.

She can only imagine what that clever boy thinks of her now. The clever boy had seen her transformed once before, but this had been different. In the past he had stumbled across her in that state, but this time he had been there during her transformation. He had seen her turn from the facade of a girl into the soulless monster she hides inside.

And yet, here he is; sitting in front of Lydia's hospital room with a balloon tied to his wrist and his leg bouncing up and down. He bites his nails anxiously, and Nat can see there's little of them left. She wonders how long he must have been there. Nat has spent hours within that room by Lydia's side, no attention spared on anything outside of ensuing her young descendant is still breathing and relatively content. 

Once he registers her presence, he stops all nervous habits. His arm moves painfully slow as it moves to rest on his motionless leg while his eyes become more wide as he stares up at her with some emotion akin to relief that she refuses to identify further.

He stares at her silently, for far too long.

Perhaps speaking could break him from his trance?

"Stiles?"

The sound of her voice seems to startle him immensely, which is not entirely out of character for him. 

"Natalie!" He jumps to his feet quickly, moving toward her then seems to suddenly become unsure of his movements. A strange reaction to be sure. "Hi, um, long time no see," he laughs awkwardly, scratching his cheek. The movement causes the balloon tied to his wrist to bob obnoxiously in the air above him.

That is certainly true, she has not returned to school at all since the formal; there is no need. With the alpha gone and the hunters knowing about his wolf pup... well, there is no reason for her to be concerned about either them revealing anything about her. If they were going to, they would have already done so.

Her time is best spent focusing on her true purpose here, to protect her sisters legacy. 

She could not afford to waste time on anything else while Lydia lay here. She would not leave her alone. Not again.

She considers all of this in less than a second, yet still does not have time to respond before he continues to talk.

Awkwardly shifting on his feet again, he almost laughs, "I bet you're wondering why I'm here, well, I'm- I'm here to see-"

"Lydia," she cuts in intentionally. "The balloon kind of gave that away."

He blinks for a moment and stutters, "Uh, yeah- yes!" He grabs the string and reels it down, the balloon swiftly reacting to the frantic movements. He holds it steady for just a moment - long enough for her to read the words 'GET WELL!' amongst the plethora of smiling yellow faces - before allowing it to bob in the air lazily. "The balloon! For Lydia. Because that's- that's why I'm here."

She watches him with a raised eyebrow, and the hint of a smile on her lips. His voice carries a strange tone, higher pitch than usual, as though he's-

...His devotion to her sister's descendant is quite admirable.

He will be good for her.

When it becomes obvious Nat does not intend to vocalise anything more, he continues to ramble. "An- Anyway! How are you? You- you haven't been at school since the formal and I've been thinking about you a lot." A quick look of shock blankets his features as his heart audibly skips a beat and he rushes to correct, "Not, like, thinking about you- just, worried. You know, about you. That's all."

"You were worried about me?" The idea seems ludicrous. She had nearly tried to rip out this boys throat and here he is, willingly in her company again. He is either exceptionally foolish, or exceptionally brave - perhaps a dangerous combination of both.

"Yeah..." he blinks quickly and almost leans forward toward her, his eyes seem almost glazed as he claims, "I mean, uh, that's what friends do, right?"

Friends.

Yes.

They are friends.

And that is good - that he has the capability to differentiate the evident superficial attraction he feels toward her from the genuine feelings he shares with Lydia.

This clever boy is the third friend she has made in decades... that she had not convinced in some way or another.

So, why do his words leave her with a hollow sensation?

A tingling sensation runs up her spine, dissipating within her. She must be feeling... unsatisfied, incomplete?

How is she not used to such a sensation by this point?

"I should get to my shift," she brushes him off, along with the strange sensation building within her. She should be glad. The two of them are friends. He knows exactly what she is, which would meant no more sneaking and hiding when she wanted to come visit her growing lineage...

She is glad.

He struggles to keep pace with her, walking down the halls toward the nurses station. "Oh, uh, yeah, right. You're, um, you're volunteering here again?"

"Have to do something if I'm not going to school," she explains easily, pulling her hair back with an elastic band.

"Couldn't you just, you know, make them not care?" He wonders.

"All of them?"

"Oh. Right, yeah," he chuckles, "dumb suggestion."

"So... I'll see you at school?"

"Yup, yes. I'll- I'll be just- I mean, I-" he stops and cuts himself off and looks at her with a slightly pleading expression.

She tilts her head and wonders what exactly he is attempting to say.

The clever boy stares at her silently, and as he opens his mouth she is suddenly overcome with a piercing sensation that infiltrates her mind and weighs her stomach down heavily. 

She turns to leave before he can form the words, throwing over her shoulder a dismissive, "Go home Stiles." 

She does not bother to hear his reply.

Friends, just friends.

That is all they can be.

She does her best to squash any uncomfortable feelings inside of her, because she should be content.

And she is.

The time passes far too slowly for her liking. The patients seem to blur together, and the other volunteers do not suffice as entertainment in the same way they had managed to the day prior. She continues to strain her hearing, searching for Lydia's heart beat, and the comforting noise is the only thing that manages to pull her through the monotony of the shift. 

She is not entirely surprised to find that clever boy still there when she returns from her rounds, although he appears deep in sleep. He never does listen to her instructions, unless the situation is genuinely life and death. Perhaps a more harsh handling is necessary here.

Nat kicks his chair none too gently, and the vibration serves to startle him awake.

"Wha-! huh?" He mutters, jolting in his seat.

She asks flatly. "What are you still doing here?" 

"Well, I was sleeping," he says with an unappreciated attitude, rubbing his eyes as he sits up.

"Funny," she points out tonelessly.

"Thank you," he jests with a sleepy grin, "I worked really hard on that one."

She refuses to encourage his behaviour, not in the state of mind to humour him. "You should go home."

He blinks up at her with those wide whiskey eyes. "Are you going home?"

Home? Her home is here, laying unconscious in the next room. "Not yet."

"Well then I'll stay too. I can, you know, keep you company," he offers with a smile

"I'm here to keep Lydia company."

"So?"

"That kind of defeats the purpose."

"Right..."

The silence lingers, and she senses a tensions lingering within it. She does her best to quell it with the offer, "When she wakes up, I'll see what I can do to let you see her."

"What? Why?" He wonders with wide eyes, and it is because he is in awe that she would continue to help him to achieve his goal of winning Lydia's heart. Something that is entirely achievable for him.

"Because," she says simply, but knows that will not be enough for his curious mind. She forces out an honest, "You deserve to be happy."

He's stunned for a moment, then looks down at his interconnected hands. "Right well um if you get bored or anything you know, I'm- I'll be here."

"Okay," she allows. Clearly he is unwilling to leave while the girl he cares for remains here. Nat cannot fault him for that.

Lydia finally rouses to consciousness that night, as if sensing her life partner nearby and waking purely for his sake. A sweeping sensation of relief flows through Nat stronger than anything she has ever known in recent memory.

Although her sister's descendant has been strangely combative during each waking moment, she cannot find it within her to hold any sense of negativity about it. Her intelligent niece, always proving herself beyond expectations.

Her mood constantly swings from being overwhelmed to attempting to ignore the situation entirely - her usual defense. She evidently hates being in the hospital, for the sole reason that it makes her situation impossible to ignore. Clearly Lydia is struggling to come to terms with the extent of her situation. 

It always seemed to be most difficult for her when Nat first entered the room. Imogen's descendant appears almost hesitant, a rare site for the Queen Bee. Lydia continues to watch her intently, slightly more on edge with each fresh encounter. After a while they always seem to settled into the familiar routine, but it appears with each initial encounter Nat is having to prove herself all over again. Why, and what for, she refuses to analyse - but it seemed the accident has given Lydia quite high standards and she expected Nat to meet or succeed them. If not...

Well, she cannot be sure what might happen if she disappointed her, because anything Lydia wants, Lydia gets. Nat makes sure of that.

She complains about the pillows upon waking, Nat brings her a selection to choose from - along with a brand new set of bed sheets in her favourite colour. She sets them up while Lydia was in the shower, along with a few sentimental items from her bedroom.

Once is becomes clear that Lydia's father is causing frustration with his sudden act of being a caring parent, Nat convinces him to leave and not return. Not permanently, simply until Lydia reaches out to him... which is certainly an indefinite amount of time.

When Lydia mentions she can't find anything worth watching on the hospital channels, Nat sends for her video player over along with the box set of her favourite sitcom. She had to ask for Stiles' assistance with that, as she remains absolutely helpless with technology - but it gives the boy a good excuse to chat with the girl he would one day marry, so she considered it as a favour for him as well. He is finally able to give Lydia that balloon, which is soon tethered to the visitors chair in her room where the intelligent girl can see it, and the three of them spend an awkward evening watching a few episodes together. Stiles is so unbelievably nervous when Nat tries to include him in conversation that it makes the viewing experience highly tense. Eventually Lydia claims to be too tired for more visitors and he finally takes his leave, but Nat can still hear him lingering outside of the room.

She finally tells Lydia that she need not worry about her father after she expresses trepidation. He would not be bothering her again, unless she asks him to. Lydia seems pleasantly surprised at the turn of events - and also asks how Nat had managed that.

Which is peculiar. Nat is well aware that she should remain unable to question her at all...

Soon enough, Lydia regains her usual Queen Bee attitude.

Nat is relieved to see it. She does not want to resort to more drastic measures, but would do so if Lydia proved unable to handle herself.

That morning when she quietly emerges from the room, Stiles is still waiting outside. He is awake, unfortunately, has a determined face and does not waste time with greeting her. "I need to ask you something."

The commanding tone of his voice surprises her, so very reminiscent of the one he used that night before she had murdered his best friend. She closes the door tightly behind her and turns look at him expectantly. "Okay."

He blinks with confusion, as though he assumed she would simply brush him off. "Okay?"

"Yes?"

"Yes, um- right, okay! So, the thing... the thing that I need to ask you. Well, there's a few things really, but there's one big thing that I need to just-"

"Stiles?"

"Yup?"

"You're rambling."

"Yup," he immediately acknowledges, and it makes her mouth twitch fondly to see how readily he accepts his faults. "Okay, no rambling just telli- asking! Just asking you if maybe, I mean, I don't know, did you think w-"

They're both saved from the inevitable when a sudden interruption occurs.

"Miss Schaefer?" A masculine voice calls to her.

She identifies the owner immediately, and her entire dispositions shifts into the persona she has cultivated within these walls. Her naturally guarded expression softens gently and her tight posture relaxes into a facade of ease and naivety. The entire change happens in almost an instant.

"Eziah, how lovely to see you again," she acknowledges his presence happily, and that aspect is not entirely fictitious.

Stiles looks between the two of them with surprise, clearly not expecting this sudden transformation from her. There is a hint of weariness in his gaze as he looks at the newcomer.

The nineteen year old boy smiles at her friendly greeting and approaches them both with a confidence that depicts his generous nature. He compliments easily, "Thank you Miss Schaefer, you're always so kind."

She giggles girlishly, as though she is entirely unaware of her supernatural appeal, while the older boy looks at her with thinly veiled adoration. It is almost too easy, and quite boringly so. It had barely taken her an hour to enamor this sweet soul.

Stiles releases a choking noise and manages to stutter, "Wh- Who- Who is this?"

Eziah startles, as if just noticing the younger boys presence; such is the affect she has upon men. He offers out a hand to introduce himself "Oh, how rude of me! I'm Eziah Bryant - I'm working under Father Solomon as a volunteer here at the hospital."

She brightens artificially, clasping her hands together in a show of enthusiasm. "How is Father Solomon? It's been far too long since I last had the pleasure of his company."

"He's well. He still speaks very highly of you," the young man praises.

She ducks her head in deceptive a show of modesty, hiding the edge to her smile. They are all too easy. There is no challenge anymore, when so few believe in her kind. There are no safeguards in place.

"I'm- I'm sorry, you're a priest?" Stiles asks with wide eyes.

"No, not yet. I still have many years of dedicated service before I may be bestowed that honor."

Stiles looks to Nat with disbelief. "Seriously?"

She smiles and, after being certain the older boy cannot see, sends her friend a wink.

The teenager, completely hopeless at hiding his emotions, immediately bursts into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

Eziah's brow furrows with confusion. "I don't understand, what's so funny?"

Stiles can't form words, "He's- He- and you-" manages to escape before he doubles laughs again. It sounds slightly manic and slaphappy. Had he not slept at all after Lydia asked him to leave last night?

She feeds into her concerned thought, using it to crease her brow and covey a more sincere depiction of emotion in her tone, "I don't know. The poor boy must be sleep deprived. He's been spending so much time here waiting for my cousin to recover."

Stiles stops laughing at her comment, looking at her with a strange expression.

Eziah smiles brightly. "Well, I have to go do check on Mrs. Andrew's, but I was hoping the two of us could continue our discussion from yesterday?"

She steps towards him with a tender smile. "I'd like that." Pushing the boundaries a bit, she trails a hand on his shoulder suggestively.

When he looks with surprise and almost takes a step back, she quickly removes it.

Smiling with innocent kindness she lies, "Sorry, you had lint on your sleeve."

"Oh," he reaches a hand to his shoulder and brushes it himself, laughing awkwardly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She can see how his gaze lingers, and knows it only a matter of time before he falls entirely for her deception...

"I should go," the priest in training pulls his hands together and nods to the younger boy. "Nice to meet you Stiles."

"Uh, yeah you- you too!" He replies in a croaky voice, and soon as he leaves, turns to Nat with a raised eyebrow. "Lint, really?"

"What?" She asks with false innocence, but does nothing to stop the self satisfied grin from creeping onto her face.

"Don't 'what' me," he says judgmentally, "Wh- What was that?"

She shrugs, and admits openly, "Seduction."

"Seduct-?!" He chokes on the word as though it is something ungodly, and the irony adds a depth to her amusement that almost makes this endevour worth her effort. "But, what about u-!" he bursts out, then seems to hesitate and stumbles over his elaboration, "uh- I mean, um... He- He's a priest, why- why would you waste your time?"

"I was bored. Besides, like a challenge. It makes it so much more... satisfying," she tries to explain, clenching her fist in between them to demonstrate how much she relishes the feeling of corrupting the innocent. Danny had shown her during the dance just how much fun it could be to have someone at your beck and call. It had once been a favourite pass time of hers, although she rarely indoctrinated people to fulfill her own desires.

The part of her driven by more than logic presses against her nervous system uncomfortably, the memory of her priest - so faded with time - battling against this sinful amusement. She easily brushes it aside, it is not as though she intends to entirely corrupt this young man; she is merely showing him temptation and seeing whether he has the strength of will to turn her away. This is entirely within the bounds of their precious doctrine.

Stiles seems to almost deflate at her brief verbal explanation. "Oh."

"So," she attempts to prompt him, recalling the fact they were interrupted.

He seems confused, and quite reluctant to speak with her now. "So...?"

"You wanted to ask something?" She reminds him patiently.

"Oh, that, um..." Stiles looks around, seemingly avoiding her gaze. "Don't worry about it. I'll, um, I have to figure somethings out first."

"Oh." A strange sensation shifts within her, something akin to relief or disappointment... she despises being left with such ambiguity. Unknown variables are dangerous; they lead to miscalculations. But, she does have more pressing matters to attend to "Okay. Well, Lydia wants something to eat."

"Okay, yeah..." he agrees thoughtfully, almost reluctantly.

She allows him to keep his secrets, heaven knows she has more than enough of her own to ponder.

M. Stil-inski

Stiles is not having a good week.

He'd been so prepared to confess everything to Natalie at the winter formal when they were dancing, the moment had just felt so right. He needs to tell her exactly how he feels about her, he's already put it off for so long. He knows it's absolutely crazy, she's an immortal vampire and he's just some guy with a few years of high school left. There's almost no chance it's ever going to work between them... but- but he's willing to try if she is.

He feels something between them, something he'd never felt with anyone before. He wanted to feel more of that, with her -just her.

He wants to be with her forever.

His angel...

And then everything happened with Lydia, and The Alpha, and, well, Natalie wasn't exactly in the right state of mind to listen to a declaration of love when they finally got her free from that car boot - not that she even stayed around long enough for that.

But, that's fine. He could still talk to her at school, and that's exactly what he plans to do. He's going to pull her aside as soon as she get to home room and just tell her everything. Lay his heart on the line. He's gonna do it

Only, she doesn't come to home room, she's not even at school.

So fine, he goes to her house after their last class - and he's definitely not procrastinating this at all. Ms. Martin says Natalie's just up in her room studying. With unbelievable persistence, and a bit of quick footwork, he's finally able to get through and see her for himself. This is it. It's happening. He's going to tell Natalie exactly what-

Her room is empty.

Of course her room is empty. There's no way it could have been that easy.

(It's also meticulously organized - like he's pretty sure Natalie has an exact position for absolutely everything in this room, and he can't help but run his fingers across her desk. And if in doing so he's accidentally nudge her pencil eraser slightly out of place then that is definitely not something he's memorizing exactly so that next time he's in here he can see if she's actually adjusted it back or used it at all. If he ever comes back... if she even-)

When he confronts Lydia's mum about the fact no one's in here, she suddenly remembers that her supposed niece is actually out with Lydia at the moment. He would ask how the hell she could forget something like that if it wasn't plainly obvious that Natalie had used her freaky Jedi Mind Trick on her. How else could the woman be so confused about such a simple thing? 

He couldn't help but shiver at the thought, that's not something he ever wants to be on the receiving end of.

But, okay, Fine! He goes to see Natalie at the hospital, where Lydia is. He shouldn't really be surprised that Natalie would be there - clearly she cares about Lydia in some way... She must care a lot. In a show of solidarity, and because he's kind of worried about Lydia anyway, he picks up a gimmicky get well soon balloon for the hospitalized girl. 

Scott's mum is kind enough to point him in the right direction. This is it. This is finally it. It's happening now.

Or, well, not now. He doesn't want to disturb them. That wouldn't be very polite, and he doesn't want to interupt or anything. 

So he waits...

and waits...

For three whole hours.

The clock on the wall spells it out for him clearly, and he really tries not to look at it but there is seriously little else here for him to do but let his mind wander and that's even worse. So yeah, he just kind of stares at the clock, waiting. 

He could have knocked, definitely should have done that by now, but he just didn't want to risk having an audience when he tried to tell the girl of his dreams about his feelings - especially not his old childhood crush who's totally liable to laugh him out of town if she caught wind of his genuine affection for her so called cousin.

That's what it is. That's totally logical, because it's not like Lydia Martin basically gave him her blessing to go after Natalie at the dance or anything. 

It's definitely not just because he's worried - worried that once again this will just be another instance of Natalie Schaefer's scavenger hunt. Another distraction. Because maybe... Maybe she's not actually here either. Is this just another lie that Ms. Martin has ingrained into her mind? He wouldn't be surprised if Natalie had given her a list, that's the kind of girl she is - always prepared for any outcome.

...because, well, there's always the possibility that he really doesn't want to consider...

Natalie might have just skipped town entirely.

She could have, easily.

He hasn't seen her in almost four days now, she could be anywhere in the world at this point - or beyond that. She managed to get somewhere in Europe in just one afternoon.

But, well, even if she has left, it's not like there's anything he could do about it. There is literally no way he could possibly even track her down... unless he, like, had access to government databases and devoted his entire life to finding her - but even then if she doesn't want to be found he highly doubts he ever could.

He wouldn't even have anything tangible to remember her by either, just some hazy photographs he'd stolen off of security feeds, and some obscure paintings. All that would remain would be a fading memory of a strange girl he once knew that would become harder to recall with each passing year...

But, no. That's not- she wouldn't just leave.

She couldn't.

She must be in there with Lydia.

Surely.

She couldn't have just-

The door opens, slowly.

So slowly.

It's, like, agonizingly slow.

Like- Like time has slowed just to torment him in this exact moment and he doesn't know if it's just his mind stalling because he's really scared that the one who's opening that door right now is not-

Natalie.

It's her. She's there. Right now.

She looks at him with those considerate and clear blue eyes, framed behind those familiar wire glasses as always - which he really wants to ask about because why would a vampire even need glasses? But that's so not what's important right now.

What's important is that she is absolutely beautiful.

Stunning.

Completely, mindbogglingly, gorgeous.

Somehow he'd actually forgotten how breathtaking she is.

And he just- he completely looses his nerve when he looks at her - because how could an angel like that ever be interested in a regular guy like him?

...As soon as she leaves he is mentally kicking himself, and makes a commitment to not leave this hospital until he has confessed everything to her. It kind of feels like if he doesn't do it right now he might never take the chance.

Again - another opportunity arises later that night, and he misses it.

Hell, the next night after that she actually asks for his help disconnecting the DVD player and bringing it over for Lydia (who has finally woken up from her coma and seems surprisingly okay even though she's clearly still injured which is just- something he doesn't have the capacity to think about right now) then invites him in to watch a show with them. The whole time he just sort of sits there awkwardly, trying to think about how he could possibly bring the topic up without risking Lydia laughing him out of the room. If it wasn't for the confession looming over his head, it might actually be a fun time.

So, he waits outside their room and is determined to just lay all his cards on the table for her. He doesn't want to hide anything from her ever - he wants her to know exactly how he feels even if she doesn't feel the same way.

And he's about to - he's seriously just about to finally do it - when that priest guy shows up.

Eziah

Pssh!

What kind of name is that anyway?

But she- she- Natalie totally flirts with him. She fully admits it and everything! (Seduction she called it, and boy doesn't that make his skin crawl). She says she wants a challenge - how that makes it more satisfying - and Stiles sees exactly how doomed his confession is in that moment. He can't just lay it all out for her because there's no way she'll be picking up what he's putting down right now.

That doesn't stop him from waiting for her outside Lydia's room though, or dreaming about her. But he knows its just a fantasy. She was more unobtainable than Lydia Martin, most popular and smartest girl in school.

Still he... he can't quite bring himself to leave the hospital. It's like admitting defeat now, and he can't do that either. He refuses to give up on her, even if she is clearly more interested in this random guy who's just shown up out of no where.

So, yeah, Stiles is already in a crappy mood.

Now, why the hell does his vending machine have to hold his Reese's Pieces hostage too?!

That's just- that's just mean!

After banging on it a few times with no luck, he wraps his arms around it. If he could just jostle it a little he's sure it'll come loose. But of course that doesn't work so he starts to rock it violently and -

Oh.

Whoops.

It's tipped over completely

That... that is really loud.

He remains perfectly still, as if that could fix the issue he's created.

"Impressive."

The unexpectedly melodic voice startles him, so he jumps away from the scene of the crime while also turning to look at the soul witness. Because of his expert coordination, the combined effort results in him tripping onto the vending machine, backwards, in a very dignified heap. The back of his head hits it last with a thud, and he lets out a weak groan at the impact of it.

Natalie laughs, nothing like the vapid giggle she'd given Eziah. This is more of a well rounded noise that reverberates through the room like a clear bell, making the whole place feel brighter. She even reaches up to cover her mouth in the way she always seems to do when a genuine expression of emotion is coming out of it.

Which he is going to take as a win ...mostly because he really needs one right now.

"Natalie, I, uh, didn't see you there," he says as casually as possible while reclined on a fallen vending machine.

"I noticed," she teases him with a playful wink.

She seems to be doing that more often, like she's trying to bring him in on the weird amusement she finds in the world around them. He'd feel so lucky if that's actually the case, because even if they aren't as close as he'd like at least that would mean they're closer than she seems to be with basically anyone else.

He chuckles awkwardly and straightens his clothes - because that's obviously what matters right now as he is still laying on a freaking tipped over vending machine. He's kind of hoping she won't notice it if he just pretends this a very normal seat and a totally casual thing people do - like, she would probably roll with it and not question him if he said this is what all the kids do these days. How could she know any different?

She reaches out and offers a hand to help him get on his feet and Stiles likes this way better better. He takes it without hesitation, and  she easily pulls him to his feet with a strength that he totally should have been expecting. Her precision is perfect, he doesn't topple forward at all or anything and he wonders whether she perfectly calculated that or if it just comes naturally to her...

It's still kind of weird though, her hands. They're never as hard as he remembers but there's still something different about them. He can feel it through her gloves, the way they don't seem to soften at all under pressure of his grip. That's the weird part, he realises now - it's her gloves. He prefers when he can actually feel her skin... like he had that night of the dance...

She watches him cautiously, he realizes it when he glances up, and he wonders what she might be seeing in his expression. He hopes suddenly that he's not showing his feeling for her too obviously in his expressions.

But... why hide it? All he wants to do is tell her.

He really should just tell her.

He opens his mouth to finally tell her-

And at that exact moment Lydia screams.

Not just an ordinary scream, it's a shriek of fear like he had never heard before.

Nat's gone - vanished - no doubt to check on her.

And he's worried too, of course, so he runs after them.

But...

Part of him, a very small part, can't help but think...

Of freaking course!

It seems like every time he gets close to admitting his feelings for her something gets in the way. Ugh.

But that's not what's important right now - because it does genuinely sound like Lydia might be in danger.

When he gets to the door, Scott's mum is right behind him in entering. But it's empty.

There's no Lydia, no Natalie either.

The door to the bathroom is wide open and the shower's still running. He runs to it just in case, but he already knows on some level that they're not going to be in there.

And, unfortunately, he's right.

All that was left is Natalie's broken glasses.

That's the only evidence she was ever in here. 

Stiles quickly grabs them and shoves them into his jumper pocket before anyone else can see them. 

He stares out the open window, it's the only other way they could go.

Why... why would they just leave like that?

Schaefer, A. Nat

Lydia is completely distraught when Nat enters her room and she fears the worst.

What if Imogen's descendant is turning now?

She has never seen a human become a wolf for the first time, has no idea what to expect exactly - perhaps it does not need to be on a full moon, perhaps her scent will not develop until that initial transformation is underway...

Nat has to get her out of there, it would not be ideal to reveal the supernatural to all the hospital staff. She would be unable to convince any of them out of that in their heightened state, not until they calmed down, and by then half the town would probably be aware. The hunters would be aware.

She grabs her niece and managed to drag her out of the hospital room - not before Lydia manages to knock her glasses off as she flails with fright and they shatter upon impact with the floor. Which is fine, Nat only wears them to elevate her deception.

As soon as she places the young girl down in the woods, Lydia has become entirely silent and Nat realises what a huge error she made.

The poor girl is still completely naked.

Nat had not realised, too anxious to make sure Lydia was not about to turn into a wolf at a public space. But now, the open night air is cold and, even in her suddenly catatonic state, her niece shivers. Nat dresses Lydia in an instant to prevent exposing her to the elements, leaving herself in only a flimsy shirt and undergarments - but that is fine; she does not truly feel the cold in any case.

Once it is clear the mortal girl will not be turning yet, she wonders if she should take them home, or back to the hospital. Both ideas are quickly discarded. Even if she makes it there without disruption, what if the girl turns suddenly? It is not worth the risk while that remained a slim possibility.

Lydia certainty does not seem to be turning into a wolf, the scent of it has been fading more with each passing day as her wound slowly healed - which Nat can recognise now that the urgency of their situation has passed. But, regardless, Lydia is certainly... Something. No mere human could survive such an encounter, and it is not as though Nat's own disposition has had any affect on her other relatives. Lydia remains mindless catatonic, not seeming to register anything - she had not reacted at all when Nat had hovered out of the hospital with her nor when she dressed her.

It seems her attention is entirely elsewhere.

No, Lydia is certainly not a wolf - yet - but this all began with the bite and there is probably only one person who may know what is going on with this remnant of her sister's legacy.

Derek.

Unfortunately, he is not home, no wolf has been to the Hale House for a while judging by the weak scent... But some hunters had. They set up a tripwire that is so plainly obvious Nat had no trouble maneuvering around them, even with Lydia barely coherent in her arms.

The sun begins to rise and Lydia seemed no closer to sanity.

Actually - where is Lydia going?

She seems to be drawn somewhere, mindlessly wandering forward as though she has a set destination to move toward, and with little else to go on Nat follows behind her curiously.

They make their way to a place she had least expected, one that she had almost allowed herself to forget.

That magnetic, ancient, tree stump.

It appears to have remained undisturbed, and the roots seem s strong as ever.

That feeling returns, pressing on her oppressively and insistently. It tingles down her spine, receding into her stomach and finding some form of anchorage inside her hollow chest.

They should no be here.

It is unwise to linger in places that have such an aura as this.

Can Lydia not feel it?

Lydia sits in front of the stump, and releases a smooth breath. It is the calmest she had seemed since they left the hospital... Perhaps staying for a while would not be entirely out of the question. After all, where else could they go?

With little other option, Nat quickly locates the hatch, one that she had always been curious of but never ventured into during the past. This time is different though. If they stay out during the night Lydia is likely to develop hypothermia. She has already begun to display the first signs.

The smell when she opens the hatch is unignorable. Someone had died here, long ago, and no one bothered to clean up the mess left behind. It is as though this place had been left abandoned and forgotten entirely. How unsightly... it is certainly not the wises place to spend their evening.

Lydia walks ahead boldly, once the door is open, but her unseeing eyes do not seem to register her surroundings at all. Her heart beats frantically in her chest, displaying how even with her calm disposition inside she is a wreck of turbulent emotions.

There is no hope for Nat to convince her out of this. Even if she could, Nat was intrigued to see how this might play out. How could she assist her descendant if she did not understand what is happening to her?

Lydia sits in front of the blood stain, staring at it deeply while evidently not seeing it at all.

Eventually she curls up to sleep, which is good. She needed the rest. 

Nat takes the opportunity to clean the leaves and sticks from her niece's auburn hair. There is a tingling sensation down her spine, it flows through to her fingertips uncomfortably... concern. She is concerned for her niece. This is not at all what she expected. A wolf, she would know how to deal with that. She has had plentiful experience with appeasing wolves.

She does not know what to make of this situation.

One thing was certain.

Lydia is no wolf.

It filled Nat with equal parts relief and dread.

Because, if that is the case, then... what is she?

M. Stil-inski

Stiles has detention.

He seriously can't be wasting his time in detention right now.

He should be out there, looking for them.

Natalie has taken Lydia somewhere, and he needs to figure out where that somewhere is before anyone else does - namely the hunters - and they find out it's not just a werewolf that they're hunting. No, he really can't risk anyone else finding Natalie otherwise they might find out what she is and then she might really leave for real!

Assuming she hasn't already...

Stiles watches the clock tick by, and time seems to slow horribly. It's worse than when she was opening the door! This is an enternity! Ugh!

His leg vibrates with the pent up energy and frustration at his situation of just being trapped here unable to do anything.

Is this how days feel for her? Time passing so excruciatingly slowly - every second stretching out into an eternity with the end just seeming further out of reach each time you check...

He hopes not. He hopes for Natalie all things tedious move quickly, and that happiness always lingers - that she's able to always enjoy life to the fullest. Or well, her version of life anyway.

Does she even consider what she does life? Or is it, like, afterlife for her?

Do vampires even believe in an afterlife? Seems kind of weird when you live that long to think there's anything afterwards, but who knows, right? He'll have to ask her next time he sees her (if he sees her). Not that her opinion would be, like, indicative of her whole species?

Are vampires even a species? Or is that offensive termanology to them? Does she consider herself people? But that- that would make her a cannibal, right? Or, wait, can she be a cannibal if she doesn't actually eat people?

She doesn't really talk about her situation much, but that kind of makes sense. Stiles kind of gets the feeling she'd rather just pretend to be normal and forget about what she is entirely.

Would that even be possible for her though?

Isn't every waking moment just kind of a reminder of how different she was to everyone else? Or is she just used to it now?

He feels the cold metal of her wire glasses in his shirt pocket, the weight offering him some sense of comfort. It reminds him of her hands, that cold and fragile way they held on to his own. He really wants to feel her hands again, he wants her to reach out and touch his cheek and just... exist together.

She couldn't be far - she'd taken Lydia somewhere for her safety but she wouldn't take her too far, right? 

God, he seriously needs to get out there!

But there's still so much time- oh, wait! That's, like, more than fifteen minutes gone!

Thinking of her definitely makes time fly.

Just a few more seconds now!

A few...

More...

Agonizing...

Seconds...

He jumps from his seat as soon as the clock strikes four.

But nooo, Mr. Harris has determined to make Stiles his personal pet project for the semester and extended his detention by an extra half a freaking hour for literally no reason. He seriously does not like this guy - like, who makes jokes about repeatedly striking a student just because you don't like the sound of his voice? Such a creep. God, he can't wait until Natalie's back. She could use her freaky Jedi Mind Trick to make Mr. Harris go back to not caring about his existence at all.

He wonders if he could ask her to do that, wonders if she'd actually agree to it.

Maybe if he asks nicely..

She probably would, right?

She'd gotten pretty upset last time he asked, but things are different now. They're friends now. Friends help friends...

Oh God, why did he have to say they're friends? He leans his head down on the table and bites back a groan at the memory of his awkward attempt at a confession yesterday. Like, yes, obviously they're friends and that's important - but it's also not generally how one starts a declaration of love!

There's no way he can bring it up now. It would make things just way more awkward between them. Clearly she'd rather make moony eyes at Eziah.

Pssh, Eziah.

How does she even know that guy? Why is she even getting involved with their local church? It's just so random! And the way she'd fully changed when that guy was around - she almost looked like an entirely different person! It king of reminded him of how she seemed to act around Allison, all smiles and sunshine... But since when did she giggle like that? It's so, so weird and unnatural to hear something that vapid come out of such a sophisticated angel.

Stiles wishes she would look at him that way, with that wide eyed adoration in her crystal gaze.

...but instead, he gets the sly glances and playful winks as she taunts him flatly pulled him further into her strange world of amusement at such obscure things with a hidden smile.

So, maybe... maybe he's the lucky one.

After all, he gets to see her authentic self as she is, not some display put on to appease him.

Not anymore anyway.

Yeah, he prefers to look at it that way.

Definitely.

Schaefer, A. Nat

Once the sun starts to set on their second night, Nat decides it is long past time time for Lydia to re-join society. The likelihood of her becoming a wolf is now near zero, even without the passage of a full moon. Wolves do not behave in this manour. It has become all but confirmed there was something else distinctly different about her sister's descendants now.

The thought is unsettling, but comforting as well.

Nat is simply grateful that Lydia and Stiles would not be having puppies.

Still, returning to the hospital in this condition would raise questions. People would ask  where they had been for the past few days, they would be suspicious of Nat and wonder why she had she not guided Lydia back to them sooner.

That leaves her with but one option.

She needs to become gravely injured, noticeably so.

It is the only thing that makes sense.

Lydia will be more coherent after her rest, which is both a blessing and a curse, she could not risk her asking any more questions about their situation. Once she begins to rouse from her sleep, indicating she would soon be opening her eyes, Nat quickly takes her outside to the forest as close to the searching voices as she would dare.

With the most important part of her plan complete, ensuring Lydia's safe recovery, Nat has just one thing left to do.

She grit her teeth and grasps her leg. Before allowing herself any longer to contemplate the drastic nature of this decision, she applies more than enough pressure in the perfect place and snaps her shin bone.

Lydia jolts at the sound, awareness creeping back into her gaze as an involuntary squeak escapes her lips.

Due to the self inflicted nature of the fresh injury Nat is fortunately able to hold back her natural instincts to lash out in retaliation, and Lydia's comforting saline scent helps to ebb away any lingering urges. Her gums tingle as the constant thirst burns with a renewed force in her aching throat, but she ignores the desire to trigger her healing process. That would entirely defeat this act.

"Nat?" Lydia asks with wide eyes, they begin to fill with tears as she sees her pitiful state.

Her voice is still distant, like she was still regaining consciousness. Nat winces as a human might, adjusting herself on the forest floor. She lies perfectly, "Thanks for carrying me this far, but I- I still can't move my leg, Lyd."

"What- where are we?" Lydia asks in a shaky voice.

"Get help," Nat insists, stating her her helplessly. "Lydia, you need to go get help."

Lydia looks at her deeply, as though struggling to comprehend their situation. Awareness is begining to creep into her expression, but it is far from clear.

Nat stares back, looking deeply into her eyes. Lydia is unmoved. She continues her false plea, "Lydia. You can't spend another night out here."

Lydia nods almost hesitantly at her words, clutching Nat's denim jacket tighter around her form as if only just noticing the cold air. She insists she can do this, it remains uncertain whether she is talking to Nat or attempting to convince herself, and walks determinedly toward the light. That is good. Imogen's descendant would be safe now, Nat's own cover could be assured with this self inflicted injury; in part at least. Thankfully her distinctly different blood would pass for an old injury - provided it stopped flowing sooner rather than later.

She rips the lower portion of her shirt, tearing a makeshift bandage to cover her wound and make it less noticeable how distinctly different her wound is to a mortal one. Without anyone to put on a display of struggle for, she makes quick work of wrapping it. The pain of the added pressure is intense and shot through her straight into her tingling gums. Her mouth feels so dry, and she knows exactly what would resolve it.

The craving is strong, it is getting increasingly difficult to resist the urge to pounce upon any one of the many mortals she could hear meandering so close nearby. But no, no! She does not want that. It is hard to persuade her baser instincts, but her need for survival is outweighed by the equally balanced unappealing nature of revealing herself. How could she protect Lydia if her true nature was uncovered? They were still at risk if one looked too closely into their situation. The entire point of this is to ensure they do not suspect her.

She has to think rationally.

Soon someone would find her and then she will be transported to a hospital where she can once again feast upon the plentiful blood bags. Yes. How appetising.

The only thing stronger than her urge for blood was the desire to remain undiscovered by society at large. She has been overwhelemed by the mob mantality more than once, and it is not something she seeks to experience ever again - even in jest thank you Canyon.

"Natalie?!" A voice rings out in the clearing, slightly out of breath. "Are you out here?"

The familiar tone would be quite welcome, if she were not aware of the challenges it's approach would also bring. She is uncertain what her exact intention is as she answers his searching question, "Yes."

There is a rustling of shrubbery nearby. Her chosen resting place is quite hidden from prying eyes, intentionally so in case she proved unable to contain her baser instincts. She dare not open her eyes, feeling the darkness swelling within them  - seeing the delectable mortal meal approaching her willingly might be enough to push her over the edge. 

If she killed him here, there would be no witnesses.

The thought is more appealing than she would prefer to admit.

"Oh my god," he breaths roughly, catching his breath. He continues his path forward and questions, "What happened to you?"

"Necessary," she explains carefully, resting the conflicting urges to pounce upon the foolishly approaching prey or curl into herself in a protective stance. She remains perfectly stationary, the only aspect of her appearance that might portray her building inner turmoil was the slight crease in her forehead. "Reason to justify absence."

Eventually one gives out. 

"You shouldn't come any closer," she warns softly, trying to fold onto as small of a space as possible without aggravating her injury further - that would only complicate matters. 

He does not listen, of course. This clever, stupid boy never seems to listen to her warnings. "I can't leave you like this."

"You should."

"Natalie, Lydia told everyone you were out here. She said that you needed help, which clearly you do," he rambles, kneeling next to her and removing his dark flannel leaving him in a simple graphic shirt which cannot be enough to stave off the chill in the air. "We're just lucky I found you first."

She tries to decline it before he can offer, "you need it more than I do."

"Trust me, you need this," He insists, dodging her with a skill that should not be possible. 

"No-" she protests weakly.

"Natalie," he says seriously, and she finds herself listening to his words. "Let me help.

Her head hands low as she accepts the mortal boys kind offering and asks, "What should we do now then?"

He blinks, seemly confused by her question as he wraps her in his soft over shirt and claims almost sarcastically, "I kind of hoped you'd know the answer to that."

She chuckles against her better judgement and tries to shift to her feet but winces from the sudden pain of pressure on her feet. If only she could levitate - but to do so would put this clever boy at risk.

He flinches, as though hurt by the act himself, and instantly moves to help her. He thoughtlessly places a hand on her leg and she hisses looking at him finally. 

Her eyes are narrowed onto his jugular, and she sees the way he gulps as his hands raise up quickly in a show of submission and he insists, "Sorry! I'm so sorry." 

She tenses, forcing her eyes away from his appealing vulnerability. There does not appear to be any easy way out of this situation.

He coughs and clears his throat. "Uh, I could, um, carry you if you want?

She looks to him in surprise but quickly looks down so as to not risk influencing his decision. "I can limp," she offers. "If you help me to my feet."

"No!" he says too quickly, "I mean, uh, you need to hide your eyes right? Well, I mean, no one will be able to see them if you pretend to be unconscious in my arms..."

She cannot fault that logic, and nods her consent. "Okay."

"O- Okay," he agrees awkwardly. He brings his hands down toward her and struggles to find a place to fit them. "Okay, so I'm just going to- to-"

"Stiles." She grips his hands, unable to continue to witness this frantic floundering. 

He looks at her with wide startled eyes.

She guides his hands forward, and he follows her movements far too willingly. he stares deeply into her undoubtedly blackened eyes, not removing his gaze from her for even a moment as his hands slide against the fabric of his flannel on her lower back and thighs. He holds her so delicately, as though afraid that he might loose her entirely if he makes one wrong move. He raises her up with ease, muscles hardly straining given her condition and he seems surprised at the lack of gravity she has.

"Is- Is this okay?" he stutters, as though she were not the one to place them in this position. 

"Fine," she agrees easily, turning her face into his chest. He is right about one thing, her eyes could not be exposed and it would not make much sense for her to limp with them closed. It would be foolish to claim her sight is that bad without her glasses. He walks them out toward the light. The scent of him is overwhelming. So sweet. But she finds some strange comfort in it as his arms firmly envelope her. This must be simply because she intends for him to become part of her lineage, it was always easier to control herself around them

"Stiles?" she mutters into his stomach, covered only by a thin layer of fabric.

His voice is soft as he replies, "Yeah?"

"You're a good friend."

He chuckles, although it is not a kind sound. His grip tightens for just a moment and he says, "yup. that's me. Your good friend."

She hums appreciatively, glad for this turn of events. Things are beginning to work out for them all. 

Lydia is no wolf, and this clever boy is well on his way to courting her.

Perhaps the remainder of this year will not be so bad after all.