Work Text:
It started with a phone call. Stiles sighed and pulled his hands away from the keyboard, stretching his arms and reaching for the windows phone next to his mouse. He saw the ID: Isaac. Stiles frowned. That must mean Derek was busy, him being the alpha and all. Isaac probably asked to come along, but Derek insisted this was something he needed to do alone. The computer display read 2300 and it wasn't the full moon until next week, and Stiles wanted just one week where something involving fighting werewolves or wolfsbane, or even just a murder, Didn't happen.
The weather was rather dreary for California, where they always boasted the best of all All-American Weather. It hadn't really stopped raining since an hour earlier. The forecast said it was going to go on all night and he was tired enough without actually wanting to sleep. It's not like he had a date or anywhere to be on a Thursday night.
So he answered on the third ring, tired eyes dark in the lamplight. "Hello?" Why would Isaac even need to call him?
"Stiles, hey. Isaac."
"Hey, Isaac, what's up?"
"Well, I was hoping you'd be up tonight, for one. Scott mentioned you sometimes stayed up late." Stiles licked his lips, a bit of a nervous tic whenever anyone mentioned either the Aderoll or the insomnia in excess. Anything over a 'Stiles has this thing' made his skin itch, but he knew Scott didn't say it to be mean.
"Yeah, the insomnia hasn't been great lately. Problem sleeping?" The lightning breached the skyline, and the young man began to count. One, two, three, four, five. Thunder echoed at the 'F' sound, and he knew it wasn't going to be an easy night, especially if he wanted to keep from doing that counting thing all night.
"Derek's busy, didn't want company. Boyd's working. Just having a hard time staying asleep alone here." Stiles closed his laptop so he could focus. His hands tapped a pencil absently. He was a 7/11 this week, not always doing business but always open. He could hear the stress in Isaac's voice.
"Usually someone's here. I just can't handle it alone." The anxiety was clawing up into Isaac's voice, and Stiles could hear the slight distortion of his response. He felt an overwhelming urge to help the young wolf. The pencil rolled away from him, and he stood up.
"Hey, buddy, calm down. Do you need me to come pick you up?" The last thing he needed was a werewolf running through town and using his memory as a target. Stiles wanted to avoid any outbreak he could.
"No, but I don't want to be alone."
"Okay, question." This was a bad idea. Stiles knew that, he'd call up Scott if he had to, if it became too much. "If I let you come over, are you going to wolf out on me?" A pause. There was lightning flashing outside, an oncoming storm a few miles out. He waited for the thunder, and wasn't disappointed a few long moments later.
"No?" Stiles smacked his forehead and sighed.
"That didn't sound very convincing, Isaac. Try again." There was no way Stiles was letting a werewolf stay over without control over himself. He was able to help Scott, but that didn't mean he was the Dr. Phil of the wolf pack.
"I-I won't lose control. Had a small scare. I just don't feel good being alone." After losing Erica, it can't have been easy to be part of Derek's pack. The alpha kind of looked haunted whenever he got too quiet--which was often, admittedly.
"There we go. You got my address? Window's open."
"Okay. Be over soon." They disconnected and Stiles looked around. He didn't know why he said Isaac coming over was okay. Part of him wanted to panic and the other part of him wanted to get some blankets and a pillow for Isaac. Maybe because Isaac was still just a fresh werewolf and Derek said Scott was the alpha of his own pack, it made Stiles conform slightly to pack mindset. He'd been researching pack behavior, and this was one of those moments when he knew there had to be more than just a leader.
There had to be a supporter. Stiles called Scott and left a message about Isaac coming over after an episode.
~~~~
Stiles may have called Scott, but when Stiles heard a noise on his roof, it was Allison. She opened the window and smiled sadly at Isaac's sleeping form, and climbed in first. She was lucky he was unconscious otherwise he would've probably freaked out. The last time she really was in a room with him was not the most pleasant, but they were pretty much both pack.
Now she just had to figure out why he was attached to Stiles' stomach, and why they were lying on the floor together. Stiles just shrugged and offered no explanation. The only thing he could've said was that Isaac needed someone close, and human touch seemed to be effective. He didn't want to tell anyone that two pretty grown men were lying on the floor basically in the beginnings of a puppy pile.
Lightning flashed outside, and Allison waited for the thunder. It was one of those little group tics, where everyone counted together but no one knew why. It's not like it was some moral imperative to find out how close the storm was, everyone knew why and how far away the storm was. They silently counted and the rumble from the skies finally echoed through the clouds. "Five miles."
"Four and seventy-five hundredths, but who's counting," said a sweet voice. Lydia stepped into the window after Allison. Great. Lydia looked down at the two men lying on the floor, going over the similarities of this to a nesting den of wolves. "You two are cuddling." She chose her words carefully, with just the touch of tease to put Stiles on the spot. Stiles rolled his eyes and slowly rolled onto his back, Isaac moving with him and growling. He froze and almost raised his hands in defense, and Lydia swallowed hard. Now Isaac was lying on his chest, arms around his waist, and Stiles rested his head on a body pillow he'd laid down earlier. Lydia licked her lips and tried to smile. Why was she even here?
Scott climbed through the window, shutting it and turning to Allison. "Good news." The downpour predicted by the weather crew appeared and soon nothing was visible outside. "We beat the storm, barely." He took Allison's coat from her and placed it carefully on Stiles' computer chair. Then he took Lydia's.
"We're not cuddling. We're nesting." Stiles looked aghast, but Lydia held on, looking as prim and proper as ever. Her voice never wavered, but her eyes were steeling over in jest. She stepped closer and crooked out her hip out a little.
"Nesting needs more than two to become nesting. This is cuddling."
"Why are you two even here, I called Scott." Allison avoided the awkwardness of seeing Stiles in such a compromising and possibly dangerous situation. She removed her shoes and put them beside his computer chair.
"Well, I was texting Scott and he said you needed his company with Isaac. I decided to come along to help just in case. What happened?"
"He's sleeping, not tearing me limb from limb. It was a compromise, and he couldn't sleep, so I just did what made sense. I've been reading up on wolves, but I don't really think werewolves actually do the nesting thing. But contact is good." Lydia went still and refused to blink. She just seemed to stare at Stiles for a long moment and he began to feel his stomach drop. When he spoke it was softer, more careful. "Why'd you come too?"
"I," she said, blinking away her numbness, "was tired of being left behind. People keep calling me part of a pack, and I've seen no evidence since I'm never in the loop, and if this is going to be one of my first official adventures, puppy sitting and cuddling, I'll have to be grateful no one's trying to kill me."
"Small victories," Scott conceded, taking a seat on the bed next to Stiles' head.
"Lydia, you could always get down here and change the definition." He held his hand up for a moment, thinking she might be willing to join him if he offered. When she didn't he let it fall back down in defeat. Scott raised his eyebrows, wondering how hard she was going to ride Stiles for this show of brotherly affection.
"Um, not sleeping on the floor." Isaac felt the change in the air, and growled a little when Stiles moved. The werewolf was a pretty sound sleeper for being as anxious as he was. Lydia regarded his predicament as his own fault, and rightfully so. The two of them had been separated long enough that this sort of confrontation was inevitable and good for a distraction. She stared into his eyes, waiting for him to shoot a retort back. He opened his mouth, then shut it, and raised his eyebrows. Allison and Scott exchanged pointed looks, as though they weren't sure what was going on between the two. There had been some slight tension lately, but nothing they really let on.
And with Stiles trapped on the floor with a proverbial werewolf tire boot, he didn't really reflect the image of strong and in control. But their friends had one thing going for them, and that was their intellect. Lydia hid from her fears and emotions, and Stiles openly faced them even if it meant turning a ten-year plan into a fifteen-year plan.
Scott regarded Allison, clearing his throat lightly. She turned to look at him, having tried to avoid his eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes melted away, and he spoke.
"Since we're all here, tired, and we've got a long night of bad weather, maybe it would just be safer to stay here?" Scott lowered himself to the floor, and Allison struggled internally at the thought of being so close to him. Her mind couldn't shake the image of him holding that flare. She'd hadn't been able to do much to help, Stiles saved Scott with a risky move. So Allison froze and hated herself. But at the end of the night, Scott still loved her, and she still loved him. It was too dangerous for them to be so close.
Allison slowly knelt down, Scott scooting to let her in between him and Stiles. Their hands touched as she settled next to him. Her breath caught but she said nothing, knowing he could read her well enough to know she was affected by his proximity. She smiled at Scott, nodding. Then she turned so she could start getting comfortable, leaving a space for Lydia between her and Stiles.
Allison felt Scott's warmth behind her and all doubt washed away. Part of her was too tired to speak, so she didn't. It was a little entertaining to hear those two banter as much as they were, so she just let those two talk while she fought her affection for Scott. He was sweet enough to let her and Lydia come along. Lydia stared at her best friend, not sure what to do, so she removed her shoes and set them aside. She felt like she was in shock, something Stiles would call her Tell. They wanted her to expose herself, emotionally. Lydia Martin did not falter when she made a choice.
"Lydia, get your cute little ass down here and join the puppy pile." Stiles' voice was level and dominant, so much so that even Scott felt a little compelled to get closer to his best friend. Allison raised her eyebrows, her eyes suddenly glued to Lydia's form.
Lydia was standing stubbornly, staring at the boy who claimed she was brilliant and beautiful, even when she cried. His words affected her more than she cared to admit. She still wore her prim and proper smug look, the one reserved for teasing and holding information under lock and key, but it was breaking quickly. She tilted her head in consideration and said, "Interesting reuse of a tactic. Very clever." Her shoes came off and were placed gingerly by the chair with the coats. She stepped closer to the space between Stiles and Allison and grabbed the comforter from the bed. The blanket went over the group of floor-bound teenagers and she lowered herself to sit in the middle of the group. Lydia regarded Allison with resolve and scooted down so she was even with the rest of them.
"What was that," Allison asked. Lydia looked down to Stiles, smiled a little, and looked back to her best friend.
"That. . . was effective." Stiles pushed himself up onto his elbows, and a snoozing Isaac growled a little. The strawberry blonde young woman looked back at Isaac, worried, then she shed her fear to look at Stiles. Her matter of fact was plastered on her face and he raised an eyebrow. "Lie back, I rarely use pillows when I cuddle."
"Don't you mean nest?" She prodded his chest with her finger, much like when they were about to dance at the formal. That was when he complimented her into submission, she'd been so flattered, all she could do was show her appreciation.
"I don't nest. I cuddle."
"What do you mean you don't use pillows?"
"I mean lie back, Stiles, and you have the opportunity to exponentially decrease your ten-year plan to something more obtainable." His jaw dropped, his brown eyes amazed by the depth of her emerald ones. "Yes, I know about the plan. I'm not deaf."
"Do you just listen to everyone's conversations--ow!" He fell back and straightened his spine and Lydia smiled, appreciating the way his body squirmed to find comfort. Isaac grumbled as he moved again, and remained attached.
Scott seemed a little confused at how deeply Isaac slept, but he wasn't going to question it, his arm secure around Allison's waist. He didn't want to have to bring him back from a bad episode like he had before, and Stiles' dad would be less than enthuised about having a floor full of teenagers wrestling with their inner demons in the house, wondering when he adopted four extra kids.
Lydia assessed Isaac's brick-like sleeping pattern, and content with where he was situated, she could only stare at Stiles, palm on his chest. He looked exhausted, and she returned her own tired smile. She assessed her trust in him. His eyes were soft, warm. No ulterior motive for once, just lying on the floor, and she had the advantage.
And immediately tensed. She suddenly blanked, being so close to Stiles, his warm body next to hers. Lydia didn't know what to think. Her eyes unglued from his, and she lowered her gaze. She swallowed. For as much experience as she had interacting with boys and men alike, it was nothing when there was a genuine interest in her, not what she could do for someone. Lydia clenched her fist and looked back to Scott, then Allison. Her heart raced. She wasn't used to this. They gave her an encouraging look.
Then his hand touched hers. Lydia felt the smooth and warm touch of his fingers, and she slowly let herself turn back. She wasn't sure if she was going to scream from fear of exposing herself, but Stiles' fingers fell between hers and she felt a veil being pulled away. Staring at their joining hands, Lydia allowed herself to lower her defense. This was Stiles, in love with her since the third grade, the only man in school who could pay her a compliment that shed all of her walls and turn around and slow dance with her for hours.
Their hands parted, and Stiles raised his arm to offer her a shoulder. Hesitant, but not in the shallow way people thought her to be, Lydia bit her lip and lied down the rest of the way. Her head rested on his shoulder and her hand touched his chest. Her strawberry blonde curls fell onto his arm as she pulled up close to his side.
"Is this okay?" She wanted permission. He nodded and he put his arm around her shoulder.
"Yeah. This?" She nodded and placed her hand on his chest above Isaac's head. Her cheek was on his shoulder Stiles' heart pounded so hard his rib cage moved. They lied still for a moment, and then he saw her face, framed by her hair. There were no creases in her perfect skin, no fear, just the two of them in the middle of a small puppy pile. He was suddenly not very tired, but he felt safe and comfortable.
Allison moved closer when Lydia settled into place, and she put her arm around Lydia's waist, asking for permission as well and getting it. Scott pulled closer as well. The friends knew it was probably okay, but so many things weren't okay with the way things have been progressively been getting worse around them, that it was nice to have permission to get close. The heat from the collective group provided comfort under the blanket and the floor didn't seem so terrible. "I'm not used to having people around at night," she whispered.
"Yeah?"
"If I wake up from a nightmare, I'm sorry." Lydia's hand clenched in Stiles' shirt. She shut her eyes and pretended she said nothing. Stiles tried moving but she didn't look him in the eyes.
"Nightmares?" Her eyes shifted, her focus leaving. Arms pulled her closer.
"Possibility of uncontrollable screaming. I might wake people up." She could tell he was looking at Allison and Scott, but she fought off the tears that suddenly formed at her eyes. Nobody knew about this. Nobody wanted to listen, except the guidance counselor she didn't trust.
"You're pretty safe here, if it's any consolation." He paused, and she knew he was curious. "Is it Peter in your nightmares?" Scott sent him a look that asked why he had to ask. Stiles raised his eyebrows as a mental I-can't-help-it message.
"You tried to save me, at the formal. And I just let him hurt me. I should've stayed with you." The entire group froze. "I would've," she trailed off before she finished her thought. I would've danced with you all night.
"Peter would've done it somehow. He wanted Derek. I didn't want to leave."
"Did he hurt you?"
"No, but he made me leave you for dead. That was enough."
"Did he want to turn you?" Stiles felt his pulse quicken.
"I refused." Scott coughed and Allison cleared her throat, but they said nothing. The puppy pile seemed to become a gathering of truths and emotional laundry. "I saw the worst and best, and the risk outweighed the reward." Lydia nodded, pulling herself closer, but it didn't seem to be enough. Her leg crept over his and she waited for him to shift, but he stayed still, more calm than before.
The group settled down again, and the collective breathing was like a cadence with Scott. He didn't think he'd ever get used to hearing everything with a sensitive ear, or smell without wanting to put ear plugs in his nostrils, but he calmed at the sound of their heartbeats. Sighing, he unconsciously counted everyone and soon he began to drift.
Then Isaac spoke up.
"You guys finally done?" Scott raised an eyebrow and smirked, smelling Allison's gentle shampoo. She seemed to change to a more expensive shampoo these past months, and he wondered if it was because of the nature of her mother's death that made her feel she had to grow up faster. He'd love her either way, but he didn't want her to suffer.
"Go back to sleep, Isaac." Stiles avoided the urge to make a joke, and instead made several rapid-fire observations. Lydia didn't have any nightmares, and she was safe. There was nowhere safer than in the middle of a puppy pile.
Of course he was biased.
~~~~
The Sun glowed warm over the small group, the crisp air and the petrichor invading his senses. Stiles have woke up first. He had barely gotten shut eye, what with Lydia curled up against him. So strange, he'd never imagined lying next to her would be so calming. It was a foreign sensation, being in a group and having warmth on chilled nights like the night before, but the feeling was one he could definitely get used to. This weird puppy pile thing wasn't bad, a bit uncomfortable, but he imagined if it happened again there would be less obstacles. He felt safe, and knew it was mutual within the pile.
And then he was being watched. That burning sensation at the back of his head that made him feel like someone was staring at him. Stiles looked at Lydia's sleeping form and then to Allison, then Scott. Then he looked higher, and there was Derek sitting in the window frame. Stiles nodded but said nothing. He didn't really get enough sleep in the night to warrant many coherent vocal responses so early, but he tried. "Looking for Isaac?"
"How'd he get here?"
"No one was around. Then everyone was." Derek nodded. "You good?" The alpha sat there with his stern stance, ready to drag everyone back to their senses if need be, but they all were okay.
"Yeah. Boyd came back late, too. This thing you're doing," he said, motioning around the group. Allison stirred and groaned, causing Scott to stretch as much as he could without losing any purchase on the female hunter. Lydia was still sound against Stiles' side and barely stirred when the talking began, which relieved him. Having nightmares as bad as she claimed would've taken a toll on her. She must've been exhausted with sleep debt to no end, so he avoided budging her awake.
"Nesting," Stiles said.
"Mmm, puppy pile," Allison said. She stretched and sunk further into Scott, and tightened her arm around Lydia.
"Whatever. Our packs don't do this." He motioned again and Stiles raised his eyebrows as if to say it already happened. Scott raised a sleepy eyebrow, an eye peeking open.
"Hey, it worked. Go away now."
"And you're invited to the next one." Scott smiled at his own humor, not opening his eyes. Derek stared hard at Stiles, then Scott. He was right about Scott being an alpha of his own pack, but now there was more to it.
"Not likely. Isaac?" The sandy brown curls of Isaac moved lazily, but he responded to his alpha. "Lets go. Lot of work to do today." Derek was, if anything, a busy alpha. It wasn't his fault that things haven't been going well for anyone with supernatural abilities, or without for that matter. He seemed to be the only one making the effort to find the Durach at this point. Scott had been avoiding the issue long enough, but pack relations needed to take some precedence considering one of them finally got a few hours of sleep without needing to resort to prescription drugs.
Isaac unraveled himself from Stiles, and though he seemed tired, he appeared well-rested enough to spend the day worrying with Derek. "Thanks for the floor, Stiles. Good thinking."
"Anytime, Isaac. Thanks. Take it easy." Allison was up then, struggling to rest on her elbow. Her brown hair fell off her face and onto Scott's arm. He smiled. She didn't make direct eye contact with Derek, still sore about his involvement in her mother's death, but she understood it better. Isaac regarded her with a stiff nod and started out the window. He sent a look back to all of them, but left anyways. Derek and Isaac were men of few words, which Stiles hated and envied.
"I should probably get up and head home. My dad's probably wondering where I am," Allison said, wiping sleep from her eyes. Scott's arm retreated from her form and he rolled onto his back. She crooked her eyebrow at him, taking in his tight tee and impossible abs that peeked out from under the hem. His hair was a little bed head and she wanted to run her hands through it. Part of her wanted to disregard their conversations about not seeing each other, and the other part wanted to see which of them would break the rule first. But that wasn't going to be today. Allison picked herself up and straightened her clothing, then moved to take her shoes back.
Feeling the distinct lack of warmth, Lydia stirred. Scott sat up and shook his head to wake up. He took everyone in to make sure nothing was wrong, then he got to his feet. Puppy pile worked pretty well for a first time thing. As odd as it sounded, he wanted to do it again. Maybe it was as therapeutic as it felt.
Stiles closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. It did seem a bit silly, not wanting to get up, but Lydia really was in his room. The few times she was here she was worried and afraid. Those nights bothered him, but now he had something better to imagine.
Scott stared at the couple, a smile on his face. With all those two had been through, it was only fitting they ended up this way. He could wait for Allison. He held Allison's coat as the brunette hunter slipped her shoes on, and then Lydia let out a little groan. The strawberry blonde-haired young woman opened her eyes and stared at her hand, laid down on a soft chest. Stiles. She looked up to see him staring back at her, and she slowly raised herself up.
It was the weirdest thing, she wasn't scared. She wasn't alone. Lydia smiled her secret smile, hair falling over her face. Those emerald eyes were lost for a moment but she recovered when she met his. He stood up and offered his hand, which she took. They were all standing, and Allison handed Lydia her wedge shoes and soon they were ready to move along. "Well, that was an interesting night," Lydia finally said, her prim and proper attitude peeking back into the surface. "Can we leave by way of a door?"
Stiles smiled and ran his hand through his hair, trying to make it less messy. Then they were out the bedroom door and down the stairs. Quiet as they were, they weren't enough for the Sheriff to not notice. Especially when Stiles peeked around the corner to the dining room to see his dad sipping his morning coffee. He stepped into sight and sighed, leaning back a little out of defeat, and the other three walked by. Sheriff Stilinski raised his eyebrows, curious.
"Late night?"
"You know, the storm, weather in general. We thought it best to," he paused. "stick together." The Sheriff took another sip of his coffee. Scott smiled at the older man, waving a bit. Stiles' dad nodded in recognition. It wasn't like anything elicit happened.
"Next time tell them to use the front door." Stiles smiled and gave him a thumbs up. "You should probably get moving. Twenty minutes until first bell."
The group meandered outside, heading to Lydia's car. Scott got in behind Lydia, letting Allison ride shotgun. Stiles was starting to really understand the idea of pack. It was a comforting thought. With all of them, it was possible to make something good happen in Beacon Hills. They'd figure it out. Starting the car, Lydia rolled down her window and leaned out a little. Stiles walked to her side, and Lydia Martin, most perfect woman in his world, kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for being there for me." Scott smiled from the backseat, knowing Stiles wouldn't feel too compelled to wash up after that. Allison bit her lip and covered a smile.
"You're welcome. See you guys at school." His shell-shock wore off a bit, just enough to form the sentence.
"Oh," she continued, a smirk on her face. "This conversation isn't over." Stiles gaped a bit and Lydia blushed a bit. Lydia Martin didn't give in to blushes often, only when she regretted something, but there was none of that on her face. She smiled at him and put the car into reverse, driving off. Stiles waited until they rounded the corner and pumped the air. Hell yes it was going to be a good day.