Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Stiles sees her for the first time on a Thursday morning.

The hem of her dress is distractingly high and her drink order is annoyingly complicated. She’s all he can focus on from his place behind her in line.

The click of her heels echoes through the coffee shop when she finally steps down the counter to wait for her order, her long red hair swaying behind her narrow shoulders.

He orders his black coffee as quickly as he can before trailing after her.

Completely absorbed in her phone, she doesn’t notice him trying to catch her eye from where he leans against the counter a few feet away.

“Lydia?”

Her eyes snap up from the screen and over to the barista at the name and he stows away the information along with a seared image of the way her dress clings to her waist.

Drink in hand, she turns toward the exit, toward him, and their eyes finally meet.

His heart stutters at those green eyes and the hint of a smirk on her full lips as she takes him in.

All he can manage to do is nod at her as she passes, voice caught in his throat and cheeks overheating. Then she’s gone and his coffee is ready and he’s kicking himself for freezing up, thinking there’s no way he’ll ever see her again.

Except he does see her again. The very next day and the day after that in the same coffee house at the same time. It becomes an annoying routine where every single morning she’s wrapped up in her phone and then out the door before he even gets his order.

He’s beginning to think he’ll never get a chance to actually talk to her at all when he happens upon her in the park late one Sunday afternoon a couple weeks later, reading on a bench in the waning sunlight.

Out of breath and nearing the end of his run, his feet stutter to a halt on the sidewalk in front of her, hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. He expects her to look up, knows she must have heard him by now, but she doesn’t flinch for even a second from her book, the title of which he can’t even pronounce.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s impolite to stare?” she tuts as she turns the page.

He smiles at her raspy voice as he stands straight and wipes his sweaty brow. “I wouldn’t call it staring, more like observing.”

“Do you really think calling it something different will make it seem less creepy?”

“Well there are things I could call it that would definitely make it seem more creepy, so yeah.”

The sun glints off her hair when she tilts her head to look up at him and he realizes he was all wrong about it being red. It’s definitely something else all together.

Tentatively she closes her book and lets her green eyes narrow. “I’ve seen you around, haven’t I?”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely not helping out the creep factor with that one,” she comments but there’s a smirk curling her lips as she says it. Suddenly it seems to dawn on her. “Oh, wait, I know you. You’re black coffee.”

“Did you nickname me after my coffee order?” he wonders with a big goofy grin. “Who’s the creep now?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not a creep, I just pay attention to my surroundings.”

“Do you really thinking calling it something else will make it seem-“

“Shut up,” she cuts him off but she’s starting to smile despite herself. “I will not sit here and be sassed by black coffee.”

“Whatever you say, Lydia.”

“You know my name?”

“What? I pay attention too,” he defends himself, “and there’s no way in hell I’m ratting off that long string of nonsense you have the audacity to still call coffee.”

Her shoulders relax at his explanation, a small smile curling her lips as she pushes herself off the bench to stand before him. “Some of us have refined tastes.”

“Whatever you want to call it, doesn’t make it any less ridiculous,” he shrugs becoming distracted as he appraises her from so close, barely a foot of space between them. It’s the first time he notices the few freckles scattered across her nose.

“Well, maybe someday you’ll be able to rattle off that string of nonsense and impress me,” she teases him coyly as she starts to walk away, “until then, I guess I’ll just see you around.”

He smirks at her. “Yeah. See you around.”

Strawberry blonde. Her hair isn’t red he decides as he watches her disappear down the sidewalk, it’s strawberry blonde.

———

He’s waiting for her outside when she gets to the coffee shop the next morning, a cup in each hand.

She rolls her eyes at the sight of him, her heels clicking to a stop when he steps in her path.

Silently he hands her a cup, a cocky smirk already curling his lips.

She sips at it and lets the liquid swirl around on her tongue as she appraises it. “I’m impressed,” she admits, eyeing him with interest. “I thought you said you didn’t know the string of nonsense I deign to call coffee.”

“I never said I didn’t know it. I said I refused to call you by it, especially when I already knew your name.”

“And yet I still don’t know yours.”

He grins and nods toward her drink. “It’s on the cup. Along with my number, you know, incase you need it.”

“Smooth.”

“I thought so.”

Turning the cup in her hand her face falls at the name written in the barista’s messy black marker with even messier numbers scrawled underneath, presumably in his handwriting.

“Your- Your name is Stiles?”

“It is. And yes, that is really my name,” he confirms with an eye roll because he’s had this conversation a million times. “Not my legal one, of course, but I gave up on that one when I was about four because even I couldn’t pronounce it.”

A beat passes, her eyes turning glassy as they dart across his face before she realizes herself. “Sorry, it’s just… I, uh, I’ve heard that name before.”

“Really? How is that possible?” He laughs at the idea, amber eyes full of mirth. “I don’t even think it’s a real name.”

“I didn’t think so either,” she mutters to herself and then shakes her head to clear it. “Well, Stiles… Thank you for the coffee. I should really get going though.”

“Of course,” he quickly agrees, trying to hide his disappointment and remind himself that she always leaves right away. “I need to get to work and you need to get off to your busy day and all the important things you have to do…”

She smirks at him and shrugs. “Something like that.”

He nods and an awkward beat passes as he struggles with what to say next. “So I’ll see you again tomorrow morning.”

“That would be safe to assume at this point, yes.”

“And maybe tomorrow night?” he blurts before he loses his nerve and then promptly spirals into a horrifying bout of nervous rambling. “Because you know, there is this really good restaurant just a couple blocks down the street from here. I’m honestly convinced they have the best pasta in the world and you should definitely try it. Well, I mean, that is if you like pasta. Or really Italian food in general at all because they have way more than just pasta. If you don’t like Italian though, then there’s-“

“I like Italian food.”

“You do?” he repeats dumbly, his heart jumping in excitement because she’s just barely smiling when she says it and he’s pretty sure that means yes. “Great. That’s- That’s really great.”

“I’ll text you to to figure out a time or we could talk about it tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, either way. Both of those sound like very good options.”

Lydia chuckles under her breath at him and there’s something fond and familiar about it. When she walks away and glances back after only a few steps with her green eyes hesitant, he quickly waves at her, hand flailing out like an absolute idiot. He’d be dying with embarrassed right then if it didn’t make her roll her eyes at him in this totally adorable way.

He checks his phone about a million times that day but there’s never a message from her. By the next morning he’s convinced she’s changed her mind, thinks she must have realized how out of his league she is once she had a chance to think it over.

But she’s waiting for him outside the coffee house when he gets there the next morning, a cup in each hand.

“7 o’clock?” she asks by way of greeting as she hands over his black coffee.

Instantly he’s beaming and nodding fast enough to give himself whiplash. “7 o’clock.”

The corner of her mouth quirks up at him and she touches his arm as she steps past him. “Then I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you, Lydia.” He watches her walk away, waving when she looks back just like the day before. He turns his cup to take a sip and that’s when he sees her name in the barista’s black marker and a phone number written underneath it written in near perfect handwriting.

After that, nothing can erase the grin from his lips.

The day seems to pass somehow unbearably slow and ridiculously fast at the same time. Before he knows it, he’s trying to stop his heart’s anxious pounding and fumbling with the buttons on his shirt as he rushes through the apartment.

“Wow, someone is really dressed up for a Stilinski family dinner night. Did the sheriff institute a dress code after you showed up in sweats last week?” Scott teases him from his spot at the table when he steps into the kitchen.

“Family dinner has been rescheduled,” he informs his best friend as he finally gets the buttons on his shirt to cooperate. “I’ve got a date tonight.”

“Really?” Kira blurts around her mouthful of pizza. “A date?”

“Yes, a date. With an actual breathing, living human female,” Stiles explains with a roll of his eyes. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Of course not,” Kira swallows and tries to backtrack, eyes begging her boyfriend for help. “It’s just- Well, you know, that-“

“It’s Beacon Hills,” Scott finishes for her. “Around here, you never know if someone who looks like an actual human female is actually a human female.”

Stiles smirks. “Well this girl… She’s good. I have a sense about these things, you know?”

“We know, man.”

“Well tell us about her,” Kira all but demands after a beat, genuinely excited for him. “What’s her name? Where’s she from? What does she do?”

“Well, her name’s Lydia.”

Scott and Kira both go still, eyes darting to meet each other’s across the table.

“Beyond that, I don’t really know much about her except that she drinks ridiculously elaborate coffee and apparently always wears high-heels. Hopefully I’ll have more to report after tonight.”

The second he stops talking, Kira and Scott scramble to take bites of their pizza, letting the silence stretch out and grow awkward as they chew and chew and chew. Stiles eyes the two of them strangely but he’s too preoccupied to really care and within seconds he’s totally forgotten anything unusual even happened.

“Shit, I gotta go,” he mutters as he catches sight of the digital clock on the stove. “Cross your fingers she doesn’t realize how completely out of my league she is.”

He swipes up his keys and the small bouquet of flowers he’d picked up on the way home and then he’s off without even noticing the heavy silence he’s leaving behind.

———

Stiles feels like he is starting to put together some of the pieces that make up Lydia Martin.

Over the course of dinner, he learns that she’s studying mathematics and microbiology at MIT and she spends her days locked away, compiling her research for her thesis. He finds out that she’s an only child, like he is, but unlike him she’s not close with her family at all. He learns that she doesn’t bat an eye when he suggests that she’s a genius because she knows but somehow manages to look a bit bashful when he tells her how beautiful she looks.

“Thank you again for dinner. I had a surprisingly good time.”

“Surprisingly?” He also now knows that she has absolutely no qualms about being blunt as hell.

“Well, can you blame me for having my doubts when all I knew about you is that you have the most basic and boring coffee order in the world?”

He can’t help but grin as he shakes his head at her. “I’d prefer to think of it as reliable, but when you put it that way…”

“Nothing wrong with being reliable.” Her green eyes soften on him as they hover in the cool night air outside the restaurant. “So I guess I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.” He grins before looking around them into the night. “Where did you park? I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Oh, I walked here.”

“You walked here?” he repeats incredulously, eyes darting to her heels. “In those?”

She rolls her eyes at him. “It’s not even a mile-“

“Well, I’m parked over there. I can give you a ride home.”

“It’s fine. I can walk.”

“Lydia, I am intimately familiar with the high level of violent crime in this town, especially after dark, so I can’t in good conscience let you do that.”

“Let me? I’m sorry Detective Stilinski but-”

“You know, it sounds like you’re saying that sarcastically but that is actually my title-“

“-I can take care of myself.”

“And I don’t doubt that for a second, just…“ he shrugs at her, amber eyes turning all big and pleading. “Just humor me? Please?

She crosses her arms, eyes narrowed on him and he just pouts out his bottom lip at her, unrelenting. Eventually she gives in with a big huff. “Fine.”

Instantly he relaxes, smiling over at her in relief. “Thank you.”

She pretends to be annoyed as she follows him down the sidewalk even though she’s anything but. He looks both ways when they stop on the curb and then flattens his palm on the small of her back to guide her safely across the street.

Her green eyes are warm when she sneaks a glance at him but she looks away too quickly for him to really read her.

“No squad car? I’m disappointed,” she comments as he leads her to his Jeep and opens the passenger side for her. “I kind of wanted to guilt you into turning on the siren.”

“Like I said, I’m a detective not a cop. Which, I admit, has some downfalls like no sirens for speeding through red lights but there are some definite perks like no uniforms.”

“That might actually be a downfall as well, depending on what you’re into.”

He pauses at that, his cheeks growing ruddy and pink. “Well, uh, yeah, I- I guess, I mean-“

“Stiles?” she interrupts, hiding a smirk.

“Yeah?”

“Just drive.”

“Okay.”

The ride to her house is unbelievably quick and the only conversation there’s really time for is her instructions of where to turn.

“It’s my parents’ house,” Lydia explains when they pull up in front of what Stiles’s would call a mansion. “Well, my mom’s really but she’s basically living with her new boyfriend in San Francisco so she doesn’t even know I’ve been staying here.”

“Looks cozy,” he snarks as he walks her to the front door, unsure of what to say. Thankfully she seems to find it amusing.

“I didn’t tell you earlier but I had a really good time too.” His voice and eyes are all soft when they stop in front of her door. “Not surprised about it though.”

Lydia rolls her eyes with a smile. “Oh, so you just knew it would be good?”

“I did,” he easily answers, stepping boldly closer to her.

All the usual build up at the end of a date kiss is there. The heart pounding, the darting eyes, and the sudden, tension-filled silence.

Lydia tilts her head and her green irises trail from his eyes to his mouth and right back again. He knows she’s expecting him to kiss her and he really, really wants to, so he’s not exactly sure why he doesn’t. What he does instead is slip his arms around her around waist, tucking his chin over her shoulder as he steps into her and hugs her.

For the briefest of moments, Lydia’s entire body goes rigid against him and he’s beyond terrified that he’s made an awful misstep. He’s too panicked to do anything but stand there and internally freak out though, and right before he gathers himself enough to step back and apologize profusely, he feels her hesitantly relax into him. Slowly she turns and rests her cheek against his, tentatively wraps her arms around him as he splays his hands against her spine to hold her close.

Stiles takes a shaky breath against her, caught off guard at the torrent of feelings that suddenly swell inside him and overwhelm him.

Abruptly, Lydia pulls back and steps out of his arms but her fingers linger on the end of his sleeve as she gapes at him, green eyes wide and shining.

Moments pass as they watch each other in fascination, trying to gather themselves and figure out what the hell just happened.

She swallows roughly and finally lets his hand fall from her grasp. “Goodnight, Stiles.”

“Night, Lydia,” he shakily whispers, taking a step back but never looking away.

His mind is racing too fast for him to process anything as he drives home, and by the time he steps into the apartment and Scott and Kira descend on him with a million questions, he already knows he’s head over heels.

“It went well,” he offers them as his only assessment of the evening before heading straight to his room, his bright eyes and dopey smile telling them more than his words ever could.

———

The next morning, he purposefully leaves much earlier than usual and the whole world seems so much more calm and peaceful with the sun just peaking up over the horizon and so few cars on the road.

He parks in front of her house and gets out, leaning back on the Jeep to wait while his pulse thrums anxiously.

Lydia steps out of the house after only a few minutes, swinging her purse over her shoulder while the heels of her boots echo in the quiet of the early morning. Her eyes catch on him when she turns around and she quickly stutters to a halt.

“Hey,” he greets her through his nervous smile as he pushes himself off his car towards her.

“Hey,” she calls back curiously, slowly moving to meet him halfway. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugs and digs his hands into his pockets. “I was hoping it would be okay if I walked with you to get coffee this morning?”

She tries to hide the grin tugging at her lips as she scrutinizes him but it’s impossible. “I guess I’ll allow it.”

He chuckles and scrambles to follow her lead when she starts down the street without ant further discussion.

They quickly fall back into the flow of conversation they’d established the night before. They banter back and forth like verbal sparring partners until he makes her laugh out loud at some witticism. Then she shoots right back and has him chuckling and grinning and wondering how this woman can be so perfect.

By the time they are waiting in line to order, they’re holding hands and standing close with their heads bowed together as they whisper. Lydia even pulls him over to a table after they get their drinks instead of heading straight for the door like normal.

It makes his smile grow so big that his cheeks hurt.

“You should come over tomorrow night,” she half suggests, half demands of him when they’re standing next to his Jeep again. “I’d say I’d make us dinner but with my culinary skills it’s probably best if we just get takeout.”

“I can cook. You can come to my place tomorrow and I’ll make you dinner.” His eyes light up as they roam her face and suddenly he’s blurting more plans out. “Tonight, though, you should let me take you out again. To dinner or a movie or anywhere really-”

“Tonight? We just had our first date last night and we spent all morning together.”

“Yeah, it’s probably too much, right?” he asks but he’s still grinning and after a beat he shakes his head and instantly takes it back. “I gotta tell you, Lydia, it doesn’t feel like too much. Am I crazy?”

“You might be,” she teases, shaking her head at him. “But I don’t know, somehow it doesn’t seem as crazy as it definitely should.”

“So I can see you again tonight?”

She seems uncertain as her eyes study him but she still nods, just barely, and his heart soars.

He leans in and hugs her again and she melts into it, holding him tighter than she did the night before.

And when they are standing in the exact same spot that night, saying goodbyes after their second date, Lydia leans in first and wraps him up in a tight hug that feels unbelievably sure.

“I’ve never dated anyone like you before,” she whispers with her cheek pressed against the side of his neck.

“In a good way I hope.”

“I think so. It feels like it.” She pulls back enough to hesitantly meets his gaze. “It’s just that, well- This isn’t really like me. I don’t usually do this kind of thing.”

“What? You mean going out to dinner and having conversations?” he gently teases and rubs his palm across her back.

She just barely shrugs and her voice is small when she admits, “Yes.”

His face falls and grows serious as he automatically pulls her closer. “Lydia-“

“Will you come in the morning again?” she cuts him off, trying to change the subject before he can say anything but still sounding so vulnerable, “To walk with me to the coffee shop?”

His mouth quirks up at her, eyes all soft. “Of course.”

He kisses her goodnight then but it’s on the cheek and it’s so reverential that it has her swallowing hard like she’s trying to keep herself in check.

“Thank you,” she whispers and somehow he knows that he shouldn’t ask her what for.

———

“Thank god,” Stiles sighs in relief as he opens the passenger door for Lydia, “Building’s still here.”

She raises a brow at him. “Was there a chance that it wouldn’t be?”

“Well no, not really. But potentially, yes, totally,” he mutters as he leads her inside. “See, I left the food on the stove and in the oven so it wouldn’t get cold, at the lowest possible temperature of course, but you never know.”

“Doesn’t it take maybe fifteen minutes to drive to my house? And that’s including driving back.”

“Have you ever used a match before? Fires take, like, half a second to start.”

“Do you always over exaggerate things so much?”

“You’ll get used to it,” he sarcastically assures her but the implication behind his simple statement hits him once it’s already out there, too late to take it back.

He glances over at her cautiously as he unlocks the apartment but she doesn’t seem bothered, in fact she seems highly amused.

“Stiles! What the hell?”

“Damn it,” he hisses at the sound of his best friend screaming from the kitchen and immediately turns to her apologetically. “Sorry, that’s Scott. Remember I told you I live with him and Kira? Well, he likes to over exaggerate things too.”

She chuckles at the stomping she can hear from the other room. “Sounds like it.”

Scott suddenly peaks around the corner at them, eyes too wide and mouth agape as he hones in on the strawberry blonde.

“Sorry man, I was making dinner but I had to go pick up Lydia because she doesn’t have a car and-“ Stiles abruptly cuts himself off and shakes his head at himself and his idiotic rambling. “Sorry, again. I’m being totally rude. Lydia, like I said, this is my best friend and very forgiving roommate Scott. And Scott, this is my… my- uh-“

“Lydia?” Scott questions shakily, looking between the two of them in awe.

Stiles grins at that. “Yeah, this is my Lydia.”

“Oh, god,” Lydia rolls her eyes and steps around him to offer her hand to Scott. “It’s nice to meet you. Stiles has told me so much about you.”

Scott doesn’t move, only continues to stare at her with increasingly moist brown eyes.

“Scott?” Stiles grinds out sharply when a beat too long passes and Lydia starts to shrink back in uncertainty at his best friend’s reaction.

“Right, right. Sorry,” Scott tries to recover when he snaps out of it and shoots his hand out to take hers. “I’m just in kind of a rush and Stiles leaving everything out and on in the kitchen threw me totally off-“

“See? Over exaggerating.”

Lydia smiles over at Stiles and Scott takes the opportunity to pull his hand away from hers as quickly as possible.

Stiles notes the alpha’s strange behavior and eyes him suspiciously. “Why are you in such a rush?”

“Late for dinner with Kira and her parents but I forgot my wallet so I had to stop and grab it,” he explains, trying to make his way to the door as quickly as possible without seeming rude. “I should really get going but it was nice to, uh — to meet you, Lydia.”

“You too.”

“Can you excuse us for a minute?” Stiles asks Lydia and, off her nod, quickly follows his best friend out into the hallway before he can get away.

“Hey, is something going on?” Stiles demands in a sharp whisper. “Did something happen?”

Scott swallows and shakes his head. “No, man. I’m just in a rush like I said.”

“You’re a terrible liar but I don’t have time to not believe you right now.”

“Whatever, man,” Scott retorts but he doesn’t turn and leave like he should. Instead he lingers for a moment, chewing his lip and eyeing the apartment door before finally asking, “So uh- you and her? How is that going?”

“Great. It’s- It’s really, really great man.” A goofy grin curls his lips. “I’ve never, ever felt this way before.”

“Well sure but it’s only been a few days-“

“I know. It makes absolutely no sense and it’s so unbelievably fast but honestly, we get along so well it’s like I’ve knows her forever.”

Scott drops his gaze, looks anywhere but at Stiles. “I gotta go- I- I’ll see you later.”

“Scott?” Stiles calls out in confusion but his best friend has already turned away and is quickly heading down the hallway.

When he lets himself back in the apartment, Lydia is carefully studying the collection of framed pictures Kira has set up on the mantel. Something about it makes him smile all over again.

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes as he steps up to her side. “He can be kind of weird sometimes.”

“You can be kind of weird sometimes,” Lydia shrugs, her eyes still scanning the photos. Her fingers reach out and graze one of the frames, the picture inside catching her attention. “You guys are really close, huh?”

He looks closer at the photo shes’ so focused on. It’s from the day they moved into this place, the three of them huddled together on their piece of crap couch and surrounded by a million boxes. “Yeah, Scott’s my best friend. He’s basically my brother. It was supposed to be just us moving in here but Kira and Scott got back together right before we signed the lease so…” He shrugs with a soft smile. “She’s grown on me I guess, though. She really loves Scott.”

Lydia simply nods and drops her hand back to her side, remaining silent as she looks at more of the pictures.

Hesitantly, Stiles takes her hand in his, intertwining their fingers as he studies her profile. “You know, you haven’t told me anything about your friends.”

She shrugs and curls her fingers around his. “There’s not really much to tell.”

The hint of sorrow in her voice then makes him ache with the overwhelming instinct to try to fix whatever put it there, to erase anything bad in this woman’s life and make it better. It makes him realize there are still so many things he doesn’t know about her.

Lydia sighs and seems to push aside her vulnerability and carefully hide it away before finally turning to meet his gaze. “Dinner smells delicious by the way. Is it ready or…?”

“Yeah, it’s ready,” he nods and pulls her hand to lead her to the kitchen. “Come on.”

———

“Stiles?”

He’s not sure how long he’s been rambling as he washes the dishes, by himself of course because he refused to let Lydia help, when her voice cuts in and shuts him up. Instantly his cheeks are burning, his hands going still under the soapy water because he suddenly realizes he’s been going on and on about Spiderman of all things.

“Stiles, look at me.”

Hesitantly he glances over his shoulder to where she’d been sitting at the counter listening to him but jolts when he sees that she’s making her way toward him.

He turns around in a rush, back against the counter and his fingers dripping sudsy water on the tile floor.

She’s barely stopped in front of him when her hands reach up and bracket his cheeks, green eyes wide and hesitant as they dart back and forth between his. “Stiles…”

His heart is pounding out of control, his breath catching in his throat as his soaked hands reach out and shakily grasp at her sides.

The few inches between them disappear as she leans up and kisses him. Her lips are so soft and warm and she tastes like chocolate frosting from dessert and something else that seems jarringly familiar.

His eyes widen as she presses closer, her fingers grasping at the front of his shirt, but he soon sinks into it and his lashes drift shut. He moves his lips in time with hers as his heartbeat fills his ears.

Everything about that kiss feels like perfection, makes him want more.

She pulls back just the slightest, both of them gasping for unsteady breaths as their noses graze and their hands pull somehow tighter at each other.

Eventually they open their eyes and their gazes meet, both of them wearing matching expressions of awe.

Neither of them says it out loud but everything about that simple kiss feels monumental. Like that cheesy cliche in a crappy romance movie where someone realizes the person standing before them is everything.

Lydia’s eyes turn wet and she presses her lips together as she stares up at him before burying her face into the crux of his neck.

Swallowing roughly, Stiles wraps his arms around her, neither of them caring or noticing that his damp skin is soaking through her dress and up his sleeves.

Five days, he reminds himself as he presses his lips against her hair. It’s only been five days since he first spoke to her, two and a half weeks since he first saw her in that coffee shop. It shouldn’t feel this overwhelmingly right.

But it does. Holy shit does everything about this woman feel right. Like finding a piece of himself that he didn’t even realize he was missing.

Lydia Martin is it for him. Stiles is sure of it.

———

“Stiles, are you even paying attention?”

Lifting his eyes, Stiles looks at the screen to the Mario flailing his arms in victory on one half of the screen while Toad sits on motionless on the side of the track on the other.

No, he is definitely not paying attention.

But how can he when it’s the first night he’s not spending with Lydia since their first date? It’s stupid and ridiculous because even though he still saw her early that morning at the coffee shop, he misses her. It wasn’t enough.

And now all he can think about is what he’s going to do tomorrow morning because it will be Saturday and he doesn’t usually go get coffee on days he doesn’t work and he doesn’t know if Lydia goes there on the weekend either but-

“Stiles?”

“What?” Stiles jumps, annoyed, before realizing that he zoned out again. “Oh, yeah, sorry dude.”

“You know, we don’t have to play-“

“Oh yes we do,” the human cuts him off, trying to sit up straighter and force himself to focus. “I obviously need to take my mind off of a certain strawberry blonde and you need to not think about why Kira has suddenly decided she needs to go visit Malia immediately-“

“I know why she’s visiting Malia,” Scott jumps in, rolling his eyes.

“Oh really?” Stiles raises a brow. “Enlighten me then.”

The alpha grits his teeth and remains silent, looking anywhere but at Stiles.

“See, we need a night of Mario Kart distraction,” he declares, squaring his shoulders with the TV. “Start it over. I promise no more zoning out.”

Scott huffs but does as he’s told and soon they are too many rounds into a heated battle.

“Come on! Go go go go, you little bastard!” Stiles yells at his character on the screen, pushing buttons as fast as he can. “No wolf powers, Scott! That’s cheating!”

Scott snorts. “How the hell could I use wolf powers to cheat at video games?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve figured it out. You’ve figured it out and you’ll never admit it because it’d be too hard for me to tell and- Damn it!”

Laughing, Scott rolls his eyes at his best friend. “I’m just better at this game then you. I’ve always kicked your ass at video games, way before the bite.”

Stiles stubbornly shakes his head. “Not how I remember it.”

“Whatever. Rematch?”

“Of course.”

The screen counts down from three and then they are off again, but then Scott’s character stays frozen and before Stiles can get out a sarcastic remark, Scott lets his controller clatter to the ground.

Glancing over, Stiles instantly drops his controller too, game completely forgotten at his best friend’s face twisted in absolute pain, hands clasping tight over his ears.

“Scott? Scott, what’s going on? What’s happening?”

The alpha shakes his head and digs his suddenly visible claws into his skin and struggles to breath against whatever is happening.

It doesn’t last long and it all stops just as abruptly as it started, leaving Scott gasping to catch his breath as his hands fall limply to his sides.

“Scott? What the hell-“

“Lydia.”

Stiles swears his heart stops in his chest, everything around him going oddly still at that one whispered word. “What did you say?”

Turning sharply to his best friend, the alpha gapes at Stiles as he gets ahold of himself. “Lydia,” he repeats shakily and pushes himself up to his feet. “We have to get to her. We have to find her.”

Stiles jumps up and grabs Scott by the shoulders to stop him. “What the hell are you talking about, Scott? What is going on?”

“She-“ the alpha starts before stopping himself and shaking his head and starting over. “I heard her scream.”

“What?”

“She’s a banshee, Stiles, and I just heard her scream,” Scott explains in a big rush, stepping around the human. “I’ll explain on the way.”

“Oh, hell yes, you’ll be explaining on the way!”

They forgo the elevator and take the stairs two at a time down to the ground floor and pile into Scott’s car since the alpha is pretty sure he can pinpoint where the scream was coming from.

It only takes a few blocks of heavy silence for Stiles to completely snap. “You better tell me what the hell is going on right now-“

“Lydia’s a banshee.”

“What the hell is a banshee?” Stiles demands, the word feeling foreign on his tongue. “I’ve never even heard of that! And how do you know that’s what she is?”

“They sense death. They scream either to hear it better or to let people know it’s happening, which I never really understood,” Scott explains as he focuses resolutely on the road. “And I knew because I- well I just- I smelled it on her. The other day, when I met her.”

“You smelled it on her?” the human repeats loudly, still in disbelief. “If this is true- I mean- Why didn’t you tell me?”

Scott shrugs and turns down another street and Stiles notices they are nearing the preserve. “You said it yourself, you have a sense about people and she’s good. Banshee’s aren’t dangerous.”

Stiles’s mind is racing because it doesn’t make sense, none of it does, and something about this conversation is giving him a headache that’s making it hard to really think. “But, Scott-“

That’s when Stiles sees her, ambling down the side of the road and hugging herself tight.

“Pull over,” he commands the alpha, already opening his door to get out before the car even has a chance to stop.

“Lydia?!”

She looks up at his voice, eyes dazed and wet with tears. As he gets closer he realizes she’s only in a thin night gown, her feet bare on the rough pavement.

She gulps a huge breath of air at the sight of him, nearly bursting into tears. “Stiles?”

He doesn’t hesitate to pull her into his arms, hugging her tight just to reassure her that he’s there. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asks as he pulls back and begins checking her over.

Lydia quickly nods her head. “I’m fine.”

It takes a few seconds for Stiles to finish his visual appraisal of her and believe for himself that she really is fine. Then he pulls off his paid over shirt and helps her slide it over her arms before he can wrap her up in it tight. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere warm, okay?”

“Wait.”

Stiles looks over at his best friend at the sound of his voice, surprised to see the alpha’s eyes filled with tears. “What? Scott-“

“I’m sorry but I have to ask,” Scott tries to get the human to understand before he turns to the banshee. “Where is it, Lydia?”

Stiles feels her go rigid in his arms at the question but she tries to play it off like she doesn’t know what he’s talking about. “Where is what?”

“You know what,” Scott answers and steps closer, eyes gentle as he clarifies. “The body.”

Lydia presses her lips together, eyes wide and frightened as they dart back and forth between Scott and Stiles.

Stiles tries to take her hand but she takes a shaky step back out of his reach. “Lydia?”

“H-How? How do you…”

Scott lets his eyes flash red for only a second but it’s enough to send Lydia stumbling back to get away, her whole body suddenly trembling.

“No,” she breathes, shaking her head rapidly as if she can will this all away. “No, no, no, no.”

Stiles immediately steps forward to reach for her again but she shoves him away.

“What are you?” she frantically demands of Stiles, voice cracking with fear. “What are you?!”

“Human,” he promises in a rush, holding his hands up in defense. “I swear to god I’m human, Lydia. I promise. I’m just human.”

She watches his eyes, studies him as he speaks, and slowly she starts to relax because for some reason she can’t help but believe him. She hugs herself and the too big plaid around her tight, trying to calm down.

“And you’re a… a banshee?” Stiles clarifies uncertainly, taking a careful step toward her. “Scott didn’t tell me until he heard you scream.”

Chewing her bottom lip, she hesitates for a beat before giving in and slowly nodding in confirmation. Then she pulls her eyes from Stiles to look wearily back at Scott.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Lydia,” Scott tries to assure her. “I just want to make sure you’re okay and deal with whatever you found.”

“It’s in the woods. About twenty yards in by a really big tree stump.”

Scott’s eyes go wide and he takes off immediately, leaving behind the human and the banshee by the side of the road.

“Shouldn’t you go with him?” Lydia asks when the silence between them starts to turn awkward. “You’re the detective.”

Stiles shakes his head at her. “I’m not leaving you.”

Sighing at his obvious concern, she gives in and reaches out for his hand, gripping it tight in her own.

“Let’s get you in the car okay?” He squeezes her hand back and pulls her into his side. “It’s freezing out here.”

“But Scott-”

“Scott has fangs and claws and super-human strength. I think he can take care of himself.”

Lydia’s eyes drift back toward the woods, her haunted gaze losing focus the longer she fixates the tree line.

Stiles is overwhelmed with concern. “Lydia?”

Her gaze snaps back to him, green eyes glassy as she finally nods. “Okay.”

With his arm around her still trembling shoulders, he leads her across the road to Scott’s car and carefully helps her into the backseat. Then he rushes around to the other side and slides in next to her.

Both of them remain silent, Lydia’s eyes trained on the woods and Stiles’s eyes focused on her.

He’s at a loss as to what to say or do next, not sure if he’d be overstepping by asking her questions or if she would even want him to try to hold her. She sniffles and he realizes then she’s fighting back tears. It’s on instinct then that he shifts closer to her, his voice soft as he whispers, “It’ll be okay, Lydia. Whatever it is, we’ll protect you.”

She presses her eyes shut tight and takes a deep, shaky breath at his words. A tear escapes the corner of her eye but she hastily wipes it away, refusing to let this break her.

He opens his mouth to say more, wanting nothing more but to comfort her, but she cuts him off.

“Scott’s back.”

Stiles looks over and sees the way his best friend is lingering near the edge of the woods and knows from years of friendship that Scott is waiting for him to come join him.

He reaches out and gives her shoulder a quick squeeze. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

She nods, just barely, and gives him a brave attempt at a smile when her eyes meet his before he leaves her side.

“It’s bad, man. Really bad,” Scott mutters and there are tear tracks on his cheeks that Stiles can see when they catch the moonlight. “It’s a teenager. Stabbed in the chest.”

Stiles feels absolutely sick, his eyes turning hard as he looks out into the woods where Scott just came from. “Is it, uh- You think it has to do with the supernatural or…?”

“I don’t know. I mean, Lydia — Banshees, can find bodies that were killed by just humans for no supernatural causes.”

Raising a brow, Stiles scrutinizes his best friend curiously. “I didn’t realize you know so much about banshees.”

Scott shrugs it off like it’s nothing but doesn’t comment on it any further. His eyes drift back over to his car where Lydia is sitting in the backseat, not even attempting to hide the fact that she’s watching them closely. “I can call your dad if you want to take her home.”

Stiles follows his best friend’s gaze. “Thanks, man. I should get her out of here.”

“The sheriff, does he know that you two are-“

“I haven’t told him, no. Best not to get the old man’s hopes up about me and a female so early on.”

Scott nods, suddenly avoiding his gaze. “You know I have to tell him, right?”

“I don’t know that,” the human immediately contradicts. “Anyone could have found that body. It doesn’t matter that it was her.”

“It does though.”

Stiles narrows his gaze on the alpha. “Why?”

Sighing, Scott kicks his foot at a rock as the silence between them grows heavy but he doesn’t speak up.

“Just don’t mention it, okay?” Stiles requests, his voice going soft as he tries to reason with the alpha. “You know how my dad gets about new supernatural creatures popping up. I don’t want him to think she has anything to do with it. I mean, according to you, the apparent resident banshee expert, they aren’t dangerous.”

Scott finally looks up, opening his mouth to argue before just giving in. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” He pats his best friend on the back and takes the keys to the car when he offers them. “Call me if you need anything.”

Scott nods, already turning away as he pulls out his phone to call the sheriff.

“What’s going on?” Lydia questions the second he opens the driver’s side door to get in.

“I’m taking you home and Scott’s going to call my dad.”

“Your dad who’s also the sheriff?”

“That would be the one,” he confirms as he turns on they key and the engine roars.

The click of the back door stops him from taking off right away and he’s about to jump out after Lydia like she’s trying to escape when she opens the passenger door and climbs into the seat next to him. She doesn’t say anything, just gives him a sad smile but they barely make it a mile down the road before she reaches over and takes his hand, intertwining her fingers with his.

Once they reach her house, Stiles doesn’t ask her if she wants him to come inside, just follows her through the front door and up the stairs to her room.

Hovering in the doorway though, he’s not sure what to do next as he watches her start to go through her dresser until she pulls out a set of pink pajamas.

She looks over at him, just as hesitant as he is, and motions toward the bathroom door across the room. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

“I’ll be, well, here,” he calls back to her, shoulders deflating when she disappears into the other room.

Curiously, he walks around her bedroom and observes the various possessions of Lydia’s. The make up carefully arranged on her mirrored vanity, the wide range of classical and current books on her bookshelf, the little white butterflies decorating her wall. All things that are part of what makes up Lydia Martin.

A banshee.

He sits on the edge of her bed, elbows on his knees as he tries to figure out what the hell he’s supposed to do with that information.

“Hi.” Lydia smiles hesitantly when she finally emerges from the bathroom, the tear streaks washed from her pale cheeks.

Stiles's eyes carefully following her as she crosses the room until she settles next to him on the bed. “You want to talk about it?”

The corner of her lip quirks up in a cynical smile. “You mean do I want to tell you everything that you’re dying to know?”

“Well-“

“Just ask, Stiles.”

“How did you find it?” He blurts before quietly clarifying, “The body.”

Looking at her lap, Lydia fidgets with her fingers. “I don’t know. I haven’t figured out exactly how it works. I guess it’s kind of like sleep walking. Tonight, it was one minute I was headed downstairs to get some tylenol and the next thing I know I’m walking through the woods barefoot.”

Tentatively Stiles reaches out and grasps one of her hands in his. “Were you bitten?”

“I was. I mean, I have a scar,” she answers, her uncertainty clear in her voice. She looks up at him sideways as she admits, “I - I was in an accident. My alpha, he said he found me and he saved me with the bite.”

“You don’t sound like you believe him.”

“It didn’t take me long to figure out he was one of the bad guys. I’ve always wondered what, if any, of the things he said were really the truth.”

“But you’re not sure what happened, exactly? You don’t remember it?”

Lydia shakes her head, pressing her lips together. “I don’t remember a lot of things about my life. After the accident, nearly all of my memories disappeared. I remember my childhood up to a certain point and then… Nothing.”

Stiles furrows his brow at her. “A bite shouldn’t do that to you though. It shouldn’t mess with your mind like that.”

“Well a bite isn’t supposed to turn someone into a banshee either but here I am. Anything is possible.” She shrugs and pulls his hand into her lap, focusing her gaze on their intertwined fingers. “I went to a few doctors but none of them could explain the memory loss, always referred to it as some sort of vague trauma induced amnesia. There’s nothing that can be done about it.”

He squeezes her hand sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she quickly assures him with a tiny shrug of her shoulders at his concerns, not convincing him at all. “You know, I actually lived in Beacon Hills for most of my life. My family moved here right before I started third grade and I lived here until at least the end of high school. It’s in my transcripts, all completely verifiable, but I can’t remember any of it.”

“Really? You went to Beacon Hills High School?” His amber eyes narrow as he racks his brain to try to place her. “I don’t remember you.”

She smiles ruefully over at him. “Then I guess we weren’t friends.”

“I’d remember you, Lydia, regardless of that. I know I would.” She falls silent and he watches carefully the way her face falls. “Is that why you came back here? To remember something?”

“That was the idea. I hadn’t been here since I lost my memories but I spent most of my life here. It felt like the most logical thing was to at least try and see if just being here would help. It’s weird though. Now that I’m here, I feel like I should remember but it all feels just out of reach. Everything feels like details of a dream I can’t quite remember. It can be… unnerving.” She presses her lips together, shrugging helplessly. “I guess that’s why the coffee shop has really been the only place I’ve ventured to and it’s not even a mile away.”

“I could take you on a tour of this place sometime, see if that helps. My job does allow me unprecedented access to pretty much everywhere.”

“Maybe someday.” Lydia smiles softly over at him. “Honestly, sometimes I think maybe it’s good that I can’t remember. No one’s ever tried to reach out to me from here. From all the years I can’t remember, there’s no one. All I have is my mother, who loses it any time I bring this place up. I couldn’t even tell her I was coming here.”

He sees the sorrow behind her her green eyes and immediately reaches out for her. “Hey…”

Realizing herself at the concern in his voice, she quickly she shakes her head to clear it, feeling suddenly embarrassed. “I shouldn’t even be telling you all of this. I’ve barely known you a week.”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell. I promise, I won’t repeat a word.”

“I believe you,” she admits, smiling to herself. Taking a deep breath, she leans her head against his shoulder, nuzzling against his side for comfort. “You going back to help Scott, or…?”

“Not tonight. He and my dad can take care of it.”

“Maybe you could stay here for a little bit longer then?”

The corner of his lips quirks up gently. “I can do that.”

———

“You don’t think there’s anything supernatural about it? It was at the frickin Nemeton.”

His dad sighs and doesn’t bother to look up from his paperwork. “It could be a coincidence. We can’t just assume every murder in Beacon Hills has to do with something supernatural.”

“Oh, no, wouldn’t want to do that when it only ends up being the case in about 95% percent of them.” Stiles drops into a chair in front of his dad’s desk, pulling the case file into his lap and examining the photos.

“There needs to be a pattern before we can just jump to a conclusion like that.”

Stiles shakes his head vehemently. “I don’t want a pattern. A pattern means more bodies. We need to figure it out with just one body this time.”

The sheriff puts down his pen, looking up and with a softness in his tired eyes. “We’ll figure it out, Stiles. But we need to start the investigation as a normal murder, then the supernatural elements will reveal themselves if they are there. You know that.”

“I know.” The young detective sighs to himself and closes the file, setting it aside.

His dad narrows his gaze on him. “Something else going on here I should know about?”

There is but there’s no way Stiles is going to bring Lydia in to it until he has to. “No, it’s nothing.”

———

“Where are we going exactly?”

“To the park,” Lydia reminds him for what feels like the millionth time as she pulls him along.

“And why are we going to the park again?”

She sighs and glares over at him, or up at him rather. It’s the first time she’s worn flats around him and she feels infinitely smaller as they walk side by side even though she’s only a few inches shorter without her heels.

He grins at her and releases her hand to throw his arm around her shoulders and maybe her heart flutters at the way she fits against his side.

“I have to read this paper for my research and it’s too nice to stay inside all day.”

“That’s great but it still doesn’t explain why I’m going to the park.”

She shrugs as if it’s so simple. “I needed someone to carry the blanket.”

A laugh erupts from him and rumbles through his chest as he pulls her closer. “Wow, I’m glad I could be here to play such an important role in your day.”

“Me too.” She smiles softly at him, eyes glinting with happiness in the late morning sun.

Stiles smile turns warm at her before he leans down to kiss her temple.

For a few minutes they fall into silence, content in the comfortable and warm feeling lingering between them.

Lydia leads them onto a another street and the sidewalk disappears from under their feet, leaving them walking down the graveled side of the road.

“Hey Lydia?”

“Hmm?”

Stiles furrows his brow and looks around. “What park are we going to exactly?”

Confused, the strawberry blonde lifts her eyes and looks at the road they are on. Slowly her feet stutter to a halt, her heartbeat picking up as she realizes they are on the opposite side of town from where she’d intended to go.

“Lydia?”

In a daze she steps out of his hold, knows with everything in her that’s she’s supposed to keep walking.

Worry pools in Stiles’s gut when she ignores him and it all but consumes him when she starts down the street again, so quick and purposefully. “Lydia? Lydia, wait!”

He recognizes it just before she darts into the preserve. Realizes she’s headed right back to the Nemeton as he runs after her to follow.

Coming to a halt at her side, his stomach churns at the sight of the body a few feet. Another teenager, bloodied and still, huddled against the side of the ancient tree stump.

Instantly, he takes her hand with his trembling fingers but she doesn’t respond, her small hand limp in his tight grasp. He looks over and finds her green eyes empty yet unshakably focused down on body before them, her face too pale.

He steps in front of her to try to break her trance but she’s frozen, doesn’t flinch when he cups her cheek and bends down to meet her gaze. “Hey, hey… Lydia? Lydia, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Still receiving no response, he straightens and pulls her against his chest, holding her tight with one hand and digging out his phone to call his father with the other.

Eventually she nuzzles against him as his voice rumbles through his chest, her fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt as she lets out a shaky breath.

Quickly he gets off the phone, pulling Lydia close to steady her. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Letting out a choked sob, she shakes her head against him.

“You are, I promise.” Stiles swallows back his own tears and gently helps to turn her around. “We gotta go wait for my dad, okay?”

She doesn’t respond, just lets him lead her back out of the preserve and clings to him on the side of the road as the siren approaches and grows louder.

Stiles presses his lips against Lydia’s hair when his father turns onto the road. Gently he extracts himself from her grasp with a few whispered reassurances before he goes to meet his father when he pulls up on the side of the road.

“Where is it?” The sheriff demands the second he steps out of the squad car, slamming the door behind him.

“By the Nemeton, just like the last one.”

“Looks like we’re getting a pattern.” His father sighs and rushes toward the tree line but when his eyes find the woman there on the side of the road he freezes. Eyes wide and weary, the sheriff steps carefully toward the strawberry blonde. “Lydia?”

“God, I knew it!” Stiles bellows and throws out his hands, stomping across the gravel road back to his girlfriend’s side. “I knew Scott couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Yes, dad, this is Lydia. Lydia this is my dad.”

In a daze, Lydia forces an attempt at a smile that falls flat as she reaches out and takes Stiles’s hand to keep her grounded.

The sheriff looks wearily between his son and the girl at his side, sadness shining in his eyes. “Hi, Lydia.”

“I’m guessing Scott told you she was the one who found the other body too?”

Pausing, his father narrows his eyes like he’s putting together pieces to a puzzle. Finally he nods slowly and deliberately, looking over at the preserve. “Yeah. Yeah, he told me.”

Stiles scoffs, arm flailing out in indignation. “Is no one trustworthy anymore?”

“Stiles, focus,” the sheriff barks, dragging his gaze back to his son. Again, though, it’s the banshee that catches his attention and fills him with concern. “Maybe you should get her out of here?”

Dropping his gaze, Stiles grows serious as Lydia stares back toward where she knows the body is with green eyes somehow vacant yet brimming with tears. “Shit, yeah, you’re right. Lydia? We’re gonna get out of here, okay?”

“Take the squad car.”

The banshee shakes her head, looking up at Stiles. “Can we walk? Please?”

Stiles smiles softly at her, brushing away a tear that escapes the corner of her eye. “Yeah, whatever you want.”

“Hey, Stiles?”

Carefully, Stiles wraps his arm around her shoulders before looking back to his father.

“You think you could come by the house tonight? I’ll be done with my shift by 5.”

Stiles nods with his eyes narrowed. “Something going on?”

The sheriff’s gaze darts between the banshee and his son and he tries to shrug nonchalantly. “Just think we should talk.”

“Okay?” Stiles agrees, giving his dad a weird look. “Come on, Lyds.”

She burrows against his side, clinging to him as they start slowly down the road as more sirens start their approach from far off. The two of them retrace the strange path they’d taken in silence, finding the sidewalk and following it back through the too bright and sunny neighborhood.

At the bottom of her driveway Lydia’s feet come to a halt, eyes steady and sure as she admits to him in a rough whisper, “I wish I wasn’t a banshee.”

———

Speeding to a stop in front of his childhood home, Stiles rolls his eyes when he finds the driveway empty. “Of course.”

He lets himself into the house with his old set of keys and walks through the silent living room to the kitchen. Grabbing a drink from the fridge, he sighs as he absentmindedly checks the mail for anything with his name and then looks over the old pictures on the fridge of himself and his parents when he was just a kid and a few of him and Scott from high school.

It hits him then what Lydia told him about going to Beacon Hills High School and suddenly he’s rushing through the house and up the stairs to his old room.

He pulls apart everything in there, digs through the closet, empties drawers, and pulls everything out from under his bed in search of his yearbooks. They’re nowhere to found but what feels even weirder is that he doesn’t really find any photos at all. Nothing from high school and barely anything from before that when he’s sure he had a shoe box full of them at some point.

Sitting back on his feet, he’s frowning in thought as he surveys the mess of his old room when his phone vibrates in his pocket.

Stuck at the station a little longer. Be home as soon as I can. Stay there.

He sighs at the message, noting with annoyance that his dad is already almost an hour late when Stiles told Lydia he’d go back to her place soon with dinner. There is no way Stiles is blowing her off to listen to what he’s pretty sure is going to be a speech from his father about dating a supernatural creature.

Sorry, can’t wait any longer. We’ll talk later.

Pocketing his phone, he pushes himself back to his feet and looks around at the mess he’s made. Quickly he cleans up all of it by throwing everything into a pile inside the closet and closing the door behind it.

———

Leaning back in his chair, he scowls as he scrutinizes the board laid out before him. Details of two murders that share nothing in common except for their location and their discovery by his banshee girlfriend.

“Any ideas?”

Stiles lifts his eyes from the board and turns toward his father’s voice, frowning as he shrugs. “Not yet.”

“It’ll come to you.” The sheriff steps into the room and settles into the chair next to him.

Stiles shrugs, unsure. “Hopefully not with another body first.”

His dad reaches out and gently squeezes his shoulder.

“Oh, hey, what did you want to talk about?” Sitting up straighter in his chair, Stiles turns and smiles apologetically at his dad. “Sorry I couldn’t stay. Lydia was waiting for me to bring back dinner.”

The sheriff presses his lips together, eying his son carefully. Eventually, the older man wearily shakes his head. “Nothing… It’s nothing, Stiles.”

Frowning, Stiles studies his father for a moment before he nods and decides to accept his father’s answer, though he doesn’t believe it for a second.

“You should send this stuff over to Deaton,” the sheriff suggests to changes the subject, “get his take on all of it. Argent’s been back in town for a couple weeks now too, right? He could have some thoughts as well.”

“Already sent copies of all of it to both of them this morning.”

His dad smiles proudly, patting him on the shoulder.

Stiles smiles back, watching as his father gets up and makes his way back toward his office but he knows there is something still lingering between them. “Hey dad?”

The sheriff turns with his brow raised curiously.

“I care about Lydia a lot. I know how fast it is but she means a lot to me.”

His father’s smile falters, eyes growing weary before he nods. Then he turns and disappears into his office, closing the door tight behind him.

———

“Hey, do yo have any of your yearbooks here?”

“No. I think they are all at my mom’s.” Scott frowns and looks away from the tv screen to eye his best friend. “Why?”

Stiles shrugs, pounding his fingers across the controller and staring dazedly at the screen. “No reason.”

“No reason?” Scott pushes, narrowing his gaze. “Just want to take a trip down memory lane?”

“Maybe,” he mutters distracted. “By the way I think I was wrong about your girlfriend avoiding you.”

“You’re just realizing this?”

“Well, I’ve been busy. Though I don’t know how I missed it since it’s pretty obvious she’s avoiding me.”

“Kira’s not avoiding you, you’re just never here.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” His character on the screen dies and the game reloads to the menu. Finally Stiles looks up from the screen, eyes dashing over to the clock on the wall. “Actually, I should probably get going.”

“Staying at Lydia’s again?”

Stiles shakes his head and drops his controller as he gets up. “Just taking her to dinner. I’m going to head in to work early and I don’t want to wake her up.”

Scott snorts. “You mean you’re going to stay up all night thinking about this case and you don’t want her to know.”

“Hey, I think I can wait until at least a month into this relationship before I introduce her to my crippling insomnia.”

“I’m pretty sure she can handle it.” The alpha comments, digging his hands into his pockets and watching his friend head for the door.

Stiles quirks the corner of his mouth up ruefully. “We’ll see.”

———

Lydia calls him in the middle of the night practically hyperventilating, sobbing across the line that she found another body.

Stumbling through his room he pulls on shoes in a rush. Then he bounds through the apartment, searching frantically for his keys everywhere and panicking when he can’t find them. His trembling hand moves clumsily along the coffee table and then the mantle and in his haste he knocks over one of the picture frames there, sending it shattering to the ground.

Cursing, he runs to grab a bag from the kitchen and scoops up the pieces in a rush. Carelessly he throws into his room to fix later before Kira notices and makes that sad face of hers that makes him feel like a total asshole.

“What’s going on?” Scott yawns and sticks his head into the hallway. “I heard something break.”

“It’s nothing,” Stiles barks and runs his hand roughly through his hair, about to snap. “I just can’t find my fucking keys!”

“Your keys?” The alpha follows Stiles blearily through the apartment, quickly becoming more and more awake. “It’s Lydia, isn’t it? She found another body.”

The human doesn’t say anything, just grits his teeth and digs between the couch cushions.

Scott heads back to his room and comes back with his own keys in one hand and his shoes already on. “I’m coming with you.”

It’s too familiar a sight now, Lydia sobbing at the edge of the woods. She sees him step out of the car and runs to him, a mess of wind strewn strawberry blonde hair, damp cheeks, and wide eyes. Stiles catches her and wraps her up tight, lifting her off the ground for a moment as he absorbs the force of her against him.

“It’s a kid!”

The two men’s eyes meet over her as Stiles sinks his fingers into her hair and holds her steady.

The alpha looks away first, gaze sliding toward the preserve.

“Scott-“ Stiles chokes out over Lydia’s sobs, shaking his head at his best friend to stop him.

Scott doesn’t listen, doesn’t look back, as he walks away and disappears into the tree line.

Heart pounding out of control, Stiles runs his hand slowly up and down Lydia’s trembling back and keeps his eyes fixed on the place where his best friend disappeared.

“It’s a kid, Stiles. A little boy- H-He- God Stiles-“

Swallowing roughly, Stiles buries his cheek against her hair, opening his mouth to say something comforting but finding himself at a loss.

Scott resurfaces only a minute later, tears on his too pale skin and eyes glowing red.

“Scott?”

His gaze darts up to his best friend’s, clearly shaken. “She’s right. It’s a kid.”

Moisture gathers in Stiles’s eyes and his stomach churns at what he knows is out there. What he knows he has to do now. Roughly he presses his lips to Lydia’s hair before carefully untangling himself from her.

“Stiles-“

“You guys go wait in the car,” he quietly commands before focusing in on Scott. “Call my dad.”

“Wait,” Lydia begs him, gripping his sleeve to keep him with her. “Please, Stiles.”

“Hey, hey, it’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not.”

“It is, I promise. I need to see this through. I’m going to stop this, okay? This is my job.” He reaches out and cups her damp cheek. “Trust me.”

Her bottom lip trembles as her eyes dart between his. After a moment she nods, just barely, and Stiles takes a shaky breath as she holds back her sobs for him. Reluctantly, she lets Scott lead her away, keep her gaze turned back over her shoulder to watch him disappear into the woods.

———

There are already tears on his cheeks when she opens her door to him late the next night. It’s the first time he’s seen her since he stepped into the preserve last night, the first time he’s taken a break since so he saw the body waiting against the Nemeton.

Her eyes and her touch are too warm when she reaches out for him, gently pulling him inside. He follows in a daze, takes a shuttering breath when the door clicks shut behind them.

Lydia doesn’t say anything, just presses her lips together and wraps her arms around his middle to hold him tight.

Something about it unravels Stiles. Suddenly he can’t hold back the sobs building in the back of his throat, can’t keep steady his legs when they shake beneath him. He stumbles back and Lydia goes with him, sliding down until they’re a tangle of limbs and tears against her front door.

“Lydia…”

“Shh, Stiles…” she soothes and brushes her fingers over and over through his unruly locks. “I’m here.”

He’s all curled into her, cheek buried against her chest over the steady beat of her heart while he hugs her in his lap. She grounds him, anchors him to her as he absolutely shatters. And when his tears eventually start to taper off and his exhaustion sets in, she just holds him tighter.

“It’s okay, Stiles. It’s okay.”

Her lips press against his hair and he drifts off into a dreamless few minutes of desperately needed sleep.

Too soon, he blinks awake against her tear stained t-shirt. He lets her untangle herself then, follows numbly when she pulls him with her over to the couch a few feet away and nudges him to lie down.

A sad smile curls her lips when she catches him staring at her as she throws a blanket over him. “Scoot over.”

He complies and she fits herself into the small space at his side, pulling some of the woven blanket over her shoulder too.

Impulsively he kisses her, soft and slow as they curl together on the narrow piece of furniture. He’s overwhelmed again when he pulls back, tears building in his eyes all over again.

“I had to-“ he starts but swallows roughly and has to start all over again. “I had to tell his parents.”

She bites her lip hard and reaches out to brush her thumb against his damp cheek, green eyes full of sorrow.

“I never want to have to do that again but I’m going to have to because I can’t figure it out. I can’t figure out the pattern. I don’t know how to stop it. Another kid is probably going to be killed, could be dying now, and I can’t do anything-“

“Hey, hey,” Lydia breathes soothingly, shifting in his hold so she can bracket his face between her small hands, forcing him to focus on her. “Take a deep breath for me.”

He tries to comply but it’s still shaky with his tears.

“Stiles, working all night, letting yourself get so exhausted and panicked, is just going to make it absolutely impossible to focus. You have to take care of yourself otherwise you’ll be too much of a wreck to even function, let alone try to solve a case, okay?”

Taking a steadier breath, he just barely nods against her hands.

Her gaze moves carefully across his features as she appraises him. “Have you eaten anything?”

“I can’t,” he quickly answers, nose scrunching and stomach turning at the thought.

“Okay then sleep,” she all but commands yet her voice is so soft and soothing. “Sleep here with me as long as you can and in the morning we’ll walk to the coffee shop like normal. Then you go to work with a clear head so you can focus.”

“What if it doesn’t help? What if I still can’t figure it out?”

The corner of her mouth quirks up at him. “Then you come back to me tomorrow night and we do it all over again.”

Closing his eyes, Stiles takes a long breath, trying to keep hold of his rapidly shifting emotions because where he’d just felt nothing but panic and fear, he suddenly feels overwhelmed with love.

Lydia’s fingers curl around the side of his neck, finding their way to the back of his hair to slowly comb through the strands again.

“Thank you.” He opens his tired eyes to look at her as exhaustion settles in his bones again with her gentle touch. “I don’t know what I’d do if I hadn’t met you.”

With soft eyes she leans across the few inches between them and kisses the corner of his mouth. “Me neither.”

———

Another long day of work passes by and he’s still nowhere closer to solving anything.

He’s not panicking though. In fact he feels more steady than he has in awhile. All because of Lydia.

Stiles lets himself into his apartment and the setting sun is shining warm and orange through the living room windows. Hearing Scott moving around somewhere in the apartment, he shouts out a greeting to his best friend and heads straight to his room.

Tiredly he pulls off his jacket and tosses it aside, intent on grabbing a quick shower before he packs up a few days worth of clothes to take over to Lydia’s. He kicks his shoes off across the room and hears a swish of plastic when the second one lands in the corner.

Curiously he turns toward the noise to find a plastic bag, remembers it’s the one he’d gathered up the broken picture frame in when he was such a rush to get to Lydia the other night.

He pauses for a moment before deciding to cross the room and plop down on the floor next to it. Mindlessly, he finds himself pouring out the contents of it and looking over the broken pieces, fingers moving around the shards.

Stiles knows he can fix this, save the photo and replace the frame for Kira. He can make this one thing right even though everything else seems so impossible right now.

Carefully he picks up the biggest piece, the frame with the picture of Scott, Kira, and himself the day they moved in still fixed in place behind a few sharp pieces of glass. Turning it over in his hands, he undoes the tiny latches and pulls off the backing, surprised when something falls out into his lap.

He picks up the folded piece of what appears to be another photo and curiously unfolds it.

Lydia.

With her strawberry blonde hair, bright green eyes…

Next to him.

For a moment everything goes still, his breath caught in the back of his throat as he gapes at the impossible photo. A photo of Lydia sandwiched between himself and Scott, all three of them absolutely beaming in their caps and gowns with the sun shining in their eyes.

“Wha-“

Everything comes roaring back alive around him and suddenly his heart is pounding out of control and his chest is burning from lack of oxygen.

This can’t exist.

“What- What the- Scott?!”

Stiles feels like he’s drowning as he stares at the photo, hears his best friend scream back at him followed by feet pounding through the apartment before his door flies open. “Stiles, what-“

He looks up just as Scott notices the photo in his hands, sees his best friend instantly go wide eyed and nervous as he hovers in the doorway. “Stiles…“

“What the hell, Scott?”

The alpha remains helplessly silent, mouth hanging dumbly open as his eyes grow wet.

“What is this? How is this- How-“ Stiles swallows roughly, heart continuing to pound painfully in his chest. "What the fuck is this?”

“Stiles, calm down.“

“Calm down?! Scott-“

Finally finding it in him to move, Scott hurries into the room drops to his kneels at his best friend’s side. “You gotta breathe, man, you’re panicking.”

“Of course I’m fucking panicking!” Stiles shouts indignantly, shoving away Scott’s hand when he reaches out to touch his shoulder. Instead, the human grips the creased photo and waves it out for the other man to see. “That’s Lydia. Right? That’s Lydia with us. I’m not crazy, am I?”

Slowly Scott shakes his head. “You’re not crazy. That’s Lydia. You, me, and Lydia at graduation.”

“How?”

Helplessly, the alpha shrugs but his eyes are full of emotion. “I’m so sorry, Stiles. I’ll tell you everything. I promise I’ll tell you everything but you have to calm down.”

Stiles viciously shakes his head, glaring at the alpha in warning. “Tell me now.”

“You and Lydia… You- You knew each other.”

Stiles squeezes his eyes shut tight and tries so hard to remember something but after a moment he’s shaking his head again. “I don’t remember,” he declares frantically. “Why don’t I remember?”

“Because, Stiles, you- you asked me to take your memories of her. I didn’t want to,” Scott tries to explain in a big rush, “I refused but you were begging me to.”

Swallowing roughly, Stiles drops his gaze to the photo again, completely transfixed. “This is- God, I mean, we were friends with her?”

“We were. You were closer to her than I was. You always were.” Scott hesitates, watching his best friend carefully before giving in and adding, “Partially because you were dating.”

“Jesus,” Stiles hisses, feeling suddenly nauseous. “This can’t- It’s not real.”

“It is, Stiles. I promise this is real and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you-“

“Why the hell didn’t you then?” Stiles demands, turning quickly on him with wild eyes. “Why wouldn’t you tell me this the second I introduced you to her? The second I told you about her, you should should have told me this!”

Scott shrugs helplessly again eyes pleading for understanding. “I didn’t know what to do, Stiles. You two were so in love back then. You’d become inseparable. Your connection was so strong, it makes sense that the two of you would be able to find each other again, even after everything. I guess I didn’t want to ruin any chance you had of getting that back by dropping this on you right from the start.”

Stiles eyes are swimming because he believes it. Somehow it feels so true even though it’s crazy, especially when he thinks of how fast and hard he’s fallen for Lydia, but it still doesn’t make sense. “So then what happened, huh? If we were so in love why the hell would I beg you to erase her from my memories?”

Scott shifts closer to his best friend’s side, trying to explain everything as calmly as he can. “You went missing a few weeks after graduation and something inside Lydia changed. She spent all of her time trying to find you. She barely ate, never slept, put off college… Her whole life became focused on finding you. Then one night she felt your death and she couldn’t take it.”

“But I’m not dead. I’m alive. I’m here!”

“Your heart stopped, Stiles. You wouldn’t tell me what happened. Lydia felt it, though.”

Furrowing his brow at the photo, Stiles focuses in on Lydia’s smile frozen in the past. “So when she thought I was dead, she had you take her memories away?”

Scott slowly shakes his head but doesn’t go any further than that. “Maybe we should wait-“

“No, Scott.” Stiles pins the alpha with his unwavering glare. “Why doesn’t Lydia remember?”

“She just- She-“ Scott stutters before stopping himself and sighing helplessly. “I don’t know what to say, Stiles! She lost it. Her whole life spiraled. She ended up in the hospital, swore it was an accident, but she knows how to keep her heart steady when she lies, so I couldn’t tell…”

Stiles feels bile in the back of his throat, his head aching because it’s too much.

“When she was released, she just took off to stay with her dad in Seattle. A couple weeks later I got this really long voicemail out of the blue saying that she was erasing all of it, that she couldn’t take remembering anymore. I don’t know how she did it.”

“So when I came back-”

“It was awhile before that happened. Lydia had started at MIT by then. We went to Boston, we were going to fix things, try to get her memories back. When we found her though, you wouldn’t do it. You thought it was better for her this way. You wanted her to to have a chance to live her life away from the supernatural.”

Stiles closes his eyes and sends tears slipping down his cheeks. The only Lydia he knows is the one without her memories and her life is just as wrapped up in the supernatural as all of theirs and she’s faced all of it alone. It can’t be all because of him.

“You thought you could live with it,” Scott continues quietly, “with her living out there and not knowing you. It was only a few days later that you had me take your memories of her though, too.”

Sniffling, Stiles shakes his head to himself and looks desperately at his best friend. “God, this can’t be real. I mean, this is… How can this be real?”

Scott places his hand gently on his shoulder. “You and Lydia are connected. It hasn’t been that long but you can feel it, can’t you?”

He nods, tracing his finger over the photo and wishing for the memory behind it. “Do you- Do you have any more pictures? Of me and Lydia?”

“There’s a whole box of stuff in the Hale vault. I have your memories though, Stiles. I can give you them back.”

“God, I didn’t even realize I was missing this. I didn’t realize anything was gone. I mean graduation-“

“It wouldn’t have even occurred to you. I was careful, Stiles. I didn’t want you to go mad because of some detail I forgot.”

Taking a shuddering breath, his head pounds as he tries to process and absorb it all. “I need to think. I need… Fuck. I have to tell her.”

“If you know, she should probably know too.”

The human falls silent, his resolve growing as he studies that photo. Lydia’s smile burns itself into his brain but he notices then how his own grin is brighter than he thinks it’s ever been before.

“I’ll tell her,” Stiles finally concludes, folding the photo and carefully hiding it away in his pocket. “I’ll go over there now and tell her.”

———

They’re sitting together on her couch, Lydia’s thigh pressed against his when he hands the photo to her with trembling fingers.

Stiles watches her eyes green eyes grow bright as she takes in the smiles on their young faces. His heart pounds as her fingers trace across the photo in the same fascinated way he had not even an hour ago on his bedroom floor. The only difference is Lydia’s not shaking.

“Say something,” he quietly begs, pressing somehow closer against her side.

She tilts her head and looks over at him, green eyes brimming. “We look happy.”

Suddenly his eyes are swimming too, a sad smile curling his lips. “We do.” He reaches out and settles his arm across her shoulders to hold her, something he’d been too nervous to do before. “You’re not freaked out?”

She shakes her head slowly. “I’m surprised, yes, but this… This feels real to me. The way I feel about you, how I’ve felt about you since our first date when you hugged me. It makes sense. This fits.” Her eyes trail back down to the picture, tracing it again like she’s trying to memorize it. “I knew I was missing pieces of my life though.”

“Yeah, I definitely did not see this coming.” He wraps his arms around her and rests his chin against her shoulder to look the seemingly impossible photo with her. “You’re right though. It’s completely crazy but it feels true. It fits.”

She smiles to herself at that but it falters and grows hesitant almost immediately. “What happens now?”

“I’m not sure really. I came right over here after glaring at Scott until he gave me a synopsis of the situation that I’ll admit I may have been too freaked out to fully absorb.”

She turns in his arms so she can face him, brow furrowing thoughtfully. “Can you get your memories back?”

He hesitates, watching her carefully before he nods. “Scott says he has them.”

“Then you should get them back.”

“But won’t it be weird if I can remember us and you-“

“Stiles, if there was a way for me to get my memories back I wouldn’t even think about it. I mean, to be able to remember a time where I looked so happy? You should take them back.”

He frowns, taking a tremulous breath as he shakes his head to himself. “It’s not going to be all happy. It can’t be if we ended up so far apart. And the things that Scott told me-”

“We’ll figure it out. Anything that you remember is in the past. Obviously were able to find each other again despite anything that’s happened. That has to mean something.”

It’s her resolve that makes him nod, makes the decision for him. “Okay. I’ll ask Scott to give them back.”

She shifts in his hold like she’s going to get up, like they’re going to go now, and for a second he panics. His hands jump out to keep her there and his eyes plead with her to stay.

“Stiles-“

“Lydia, I just-“ He swallows and pulls her closer. “Can I not remember with you for a little bit longer? Is that okay?”

Her green eyes soften on him, her full lips quirking up sadly. “Yeah. That’s okay, Stiles.”

He lets out a heavy breath, more than relieved, and watches captivated as she sets aside the photo before concentrating on him.

“Come here,” Lydia beckons him quietly because even though they are so close, it’s nowhere near close enough.

Stiles doesn’t hesitate, closes the few inches between them in a desperate rush and holds her close. He buries face against her face and her neck and breathes her in steadily as she runs her fingers across his back.

Suddenly he’s trembling again because he’s scared out of his mind that he’ll lose this. He’s absolutely terrified that he’ll get back his memories and this will change because Scott may have said Stiles loved Lydia then, but he knows he loves Lydia now.

Tentatively, he presses his lips against her neck, kisses his way higher when she sighs and grips the fabric of his shirt between her fingers.

When he reaches Lydia’s jaw, she turns and kisses him and there’s nothing tentative about it. Her kiss is urgent in a way that leaves him breathless, his heart beating out of control in his chest. Panting against her lips, he lets Lydia press him back against the couch, splays his hands across her back when she crawls into his lap to straddle him.

She curls over him and drags her lips against his, open mouthed and desperate, like she needs him just like he needs her.

Groaning, he shifts under her and Lydia hums against him in response, high and urgent in the back of her throat.

Her hands find the buttons on the front of his shirt, easily popping each of them apart while she continues to kiss his lips and his jaw. She pushes the fabric from his shoulders when it’s free, pulls at the t-shirt underneath until he removes that as well.

“Lydia…”

Her palms spread carefully across his stomach and she smiles against his lips when he shifts under her again. Then she runs the tips of her fingers slowly higher, nails just barely scratching over his chest, across his collarbones and then down his long arms. She reaches behind her and takes hold of his wrists, pulling them forward as Stiles looks up at her curiously.

When she settles his hands against the hem of her dress where it’s ridden up on her thighs, Stiles is swallowing roughly to try to stay in control.

Lydia grins down at him but then he’s slipping his hands underneath and she’s whimpering over him. The noise from her has him fumbling, turning clumsy as he helps her pull the dress over her head because he needs more of her now. He pulls her down against him, kisses her over and over as he guides her so she’s laying back on the couch.

Her hands go for his belt as soon as he moves over her but he reaches out and stops her, gripping her fingers tight in his.

He opens his mouth to say something but he’s not sure what. Honestly he isn’t completely sure why he’s hesitating. He wants to be with Lydia now before everything has the chance to change tomorrow.

But maybe that’s why he’s scared to move forward. It could all be different after tomorrow.

Lydia’s eyes move curiously between his and a gentle smile curls her lips up at him like she just knows what he’s thinking. “Stiles…” With a softness shining in her eyes, she reaches up and brushes back his hair from his forehead then drags her fingers along the side of his face to settle her palm against his cheek. “It’ll be okay.”

He leans against her touch, eyes growing wet. “How are you not freaked out right now? How can you be so sure that this won’t ruin everything?”

She presses her lips together as she watches him carefully. “Do you remember right after we first met? When I read your name on my coffee cup and I told you I’d heard it somewhere before?”

Slowly, he nods down at her.

“I heard your name in the voices, right before I decided to come back to Beacon Hills. I thought it meant I was supposed to meet you. Now that I know the truth, I don’t know… It feels like maybe I wasn’t really coming back to Beacon Hills. Maybe I was coming back to you this whole time.”

“Lyds,” he murmurs in awe, releasing his hold on the hand he’d stopped.

“It’ll be okay.”

He nods desperately, his own hands moving across her skin to pull her closer. “It’ll be okay.”

———

Hand in hand they walk in to the apartment the next morning, strong and steady together as they step into the living room and the dawn breaks outside.

Scott comes in from the kitchen the second he hears them, bags under his hesitant eyes from an obviously sleepless night. He’s silent though, unsure of what to say as Lydia eyes him curiously and Stiles sets his jaw at him determinately.

“I want my memories back.” The words are like a command but they shake as they come out. Lydia squeezes his hand tighter to ground him.

Scott lets out a breath of relief, smiling at his best friend. “Of course, man. They’re yours. You should have them.”

Stiles nods and he and Lydia step further into the room. “Can I- Could you- I mean, I- I don’t know if you have to go to work-“

Scott quickly shakes his head, moving forward and squeezing Stiles’s shoulder to stop his rambling. “I can give them back now, Stiles, if that’s what you want.”

Stiles’s shoulders relax a little, a tired smile on his lips as he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, man, now would be good.”

Scott motions for him to sit on the couch and Lydia trails after, her eyes meeting the alpha’s briefly as she passes. “Hi, Scott.”

“Hi, Lydia.” Scott’s eyes are too soft as he watches her. “You doing okay?”

She shrugs and settles on the couch next to Stiles. “At least I feel better about how weird you were when we met.”

Scott laughs, grinning down at her fondly. “Nice to see you haven’t changed much.”

Lydia’s eyes helplessly turn a little glassy at that and when she looks over at Stiles he looks like he’s about to cry. “Stiles…” she breathes, pulling his hand into her lap and sandwiching it between hers.

“You’re sure this is okay? I can wait until we can figure out a way for you to-“

“I don’t think there ever will be a way for me.”

“And if there is, Stiles, you’ll have a better chance of finding it once you remember,” the alpha adds in from his place behind the couch. “You know more than any of us about banshees.”

“That’s not true, I didn’t even know those existed- Oh.”

Lydia’s eyes are bright as she squeezes his hand. “You’ll tell me, right? You’ll remember everything and you’ll tell me about us, about my life.”

He nods and takes a tremulous breath when he feels Scott’s nails scratch against the back of his neck. “Lydia-“

“I’ll be here the whole time. I promise, Stiles, I’m not going anywhere.”

Scott’s claws find their place on his skin. “Ready?”

Stiles looks at Lydia one last time before closing his eyes tight and sending tears streaking down his cheeks. “Ready.”

For a split second all he knows is pain, blinding and over whelming, and then there’s nothing.