Title: The Dark Side of The Moon
Rating: R
Authors: Sxymami0909 and Xtremeroswelian
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Stiles/Lydia, Isaac/Allison, Scott/Kira, Derek, Deaton, Sheriff Stilinski,
Wordcount: 99,326
Timeline: Season 3B
Banner: By Sxymami0909
Parts: 3/12
Summary: The ritual is done, but the consequences aren't over. The door inside Stiles' head is still open and they're running out of time to get it closed. Lydia's powers are growing and Derek might hold the key to a link in her past. With Stiles slowly losing his mind and Lydia being the only person who can help him keep it together, the pack is in a race against time to help their friend. Will they be able to close the door in time or will Stiles be lost to them forever?
Previous Chapters: | One | Two |
Chapter Three
Allison looked between Isaac and Scott after watching Lydia and Stiles head out the door. That hadn’t gone quite the way she’d anticipated, and whatever the tension was between Stiles and Isaac didn’t appear to be dying down anytime soon. She wondered if it bothered anyone else as much as it did her. Shoving those thoughts aside, because she knew how to prioritize, Allison leaned against the teacher’s desk.
“All right. Who’s on Stiles duty after school today?” Because she agreed with Scott and Lydia. Someone needed to be with him around the clock. If it was going to be her, she was going to have to take the lunch hour to head back home and confiscate the bestiary from her dad so she could begin going through it.
“I’ll do it,” came the unison reply from both Scott and Isaac. Scott paused glancing sideways at Isaac. He still wasn't really sure how he felt about his friend at the moment. It wasn't that he hated Isaac or that he was mad at him, not really.
But the thought of the other boy touching Allison in any way gave him the urge to punch him in the face, something his Mom had strictly forbidden him to do after he put a dent in the wall earlier in the week. Scott was feeling territorial even though he knew technically he didn't have a right to be. “Stiles is my best friend,” he said finally, “I can take the first night, how about you take tomorrow?”
Allison’s gaze slid over to Isaac as they awaited his response.
Isaac pursed his lips, nodding in agreement. He wasn't about to argue. Not with Scott, and not with Allison and definitely not about Stiles. He didn't really know what Stiles’ problem with him was, but it did bother him. Like Scott had said, Stiles was Scott’s best friend, and Isaac looked up to Scott. Sooner or later he’d have to confront Stiles about it unless the other guy confronted him first. Either way, they’d have to figure out a way to get past it. The one thing they definitely had in common was their dislike and mistrust of Aidan and Ethan. “Yeah, that works for me.” He shrugged a little.
“I’ll start working on going through my family’s bestiary right after school,” Allison spoke up. “See if there’s anything in there about dreams or the subconscious mind. I’ll see if Lydia can help me since she actually speaks archaic Latin.”
Scott nodded, “Good, let us know if you find anything.” He turned to Isaac, “Maybe you can fill Derek in tonight. He’s at his old place. We might need his help.” Scott knew that Derek hadn't always been the helpful type at least not in the conventional ways. But he’d changed and when he left Beacon Hills a couple of weeks back he’d left with them on good terms. They faced Deucalion together and Jennifer. They were on the same side, even if Derek tended to have people issues.
Isaac let his gaze fall on Allison. He’d been spending quite a bit of time at her place and though he’d miss seeing her that night this was important to Scott. “As long as you don’t need me for anything.” He said while scratching the back of his neck.
She offered Isaac a tiny smile, nodding and then looking at Scott once more. “I’ll call when I find something helpful.” She didn't bother saying if because there was no if involved. Not when a friend’s life was on the line. They’d find answers like they always did because they had to. “I should head to class.” She scooped her books off the desk and turned, heading for the door. “Call me if anything comes up.”
“I will,” they both said in unison again. Scott pursed his lips as he glanced at Isaac appraising him momentarily before glancing around. “I should head to class too. Call me if you need anything, oh and I think my Mom said she was working late tonight at the hospital, but there are leftovers in the fridge,” he told Isaac with a smile as he bent down slightly to grab his backpack.
“Meatloaf?” Isaac asked hopefully, grinning a little. Scott’s mom made amazing meatloaf, and while most teens didn't like meatloaf, Isaac was not like most teens in more ways than one.
Scott chuckled and gave Isaac a friendly slap on the back, “Just for you man,” he said with a shake of his head and motioned to the door. “I’ll see you later.” He said with a smile as he walked toward the classroom door. Having Isaac staying with him and his Mom was actually nice. He didn't mind his friend in his space most of the time. The Allison thing was awkward and uncomfortable, but Scott was confident they’d get past it eventually.
Isaac watched him go, then tugged his backpack onto his bag. He supposed he should head to class, too. Things with Scott and his mom were going well, and one of Mrs. McCall’s rules was that school was a priority, just after live-saving werewolf antics. He didn't want to let her down. But man, he was definitely looking forward to that meatloaf.
______
Lydia glanced out the window watching as Scott moved around Stiles’ property looking for something, anything. He was making sure things were safe even though when she’d suggested he check outside he looked at her like she was crazy. Apparently everyone was convinced it was the door left open in Stiles head that was causing her most recent death omen, and she agreed. But that didn't mean that something or someone wasn't behind it.
Her anxiety levels had risen throughout the day and when her mom called to let her know she’d be staying an extra day at the business convention, Lydia figured spending some time with Stiles trying to figure things out would be the best course of action. She moved away from the window and ran a hand down her wine colored dress. Her ankle boots were lying haphazardly on the floor near the side of Stiles’ bed.
Lydia sighed and brushed a piece of hair behind her ear as she walked back over to the bed and sat down. She glanced around the quiet bedroom and frowned as she tried to figure out where the faint sound of rushing water was coming from, at least that’s what it sounded like. Stiles had gone downstairs to get them a drink, maybe he was running the faucet. She shifted back on the bed and stretched out so her legs were in front of her.
Lydia picked at the hem of her dress as she tried to calm herself down, but at the moment that was easier said than done and she had no idea why. Lydia sighed wondering what was taking Stiles so long.
Scott had followed him home from school that day, his dad was working the night shift tonight, and the boys had been watching movies in Stiles’ room when the doorbell had rung. Stiles hadn't anticipated spending the evening with Lydia, but he couldn't say it was a bad thing. Except the reason that she was there was bad. She was afraid he was going to end up dying and yeah, obviously that wasn't good.
But it was still always good to see her, even if he’d just seen her at school a few hours before. He figured they could all order pizza and do some studying or something, so when Lydia suggested Scott take a look around outside, he immediately felt uneasy, wondering if this was a feeling she was having of some kind. Maybe he was being stalked or something and whatever was supposed to happen to him really wasn't in his power to control at all. Not that an open door in his mind was really something in his control. Or if it was, Stiles didn't know how to shut it.
So while Scott went outside patrolling like he was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Stiles made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen to get something for him and Lydia to drink. When he returned to his room and found her sitting on his bed, he paused, trying to figure out the worried expression on her face. “Hey. You okay?” he asked uncertainly, moving over and sitting down beside her on the mattress.
Lydia glanced up startled wondering how she hadn't heard Stiles come into the room. “Yeah,” she said softly, even though she was pretty sure she wasn't, but really what was she supposed to say? ‘Hey Stiles, the thought of you dying freaks me out so bad I’m making myself crazy?’ Their situation wasn't typical and Stiles was already on edge. She needed to keep him grounded, at least that’s what she kept telling herself, though Lydia didn't think it was working.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she looked up from her dress and held Stiles gaze. “I feel like this whole thing is my fault because of...what I am.” Crazy Banshee girl, she thought with a sigh. “I can’t help feeling like I could be doing more and I know I said that before, but really all I’m doing is making everyone nervous and I can’t seem to pinpoint what is going to happen or when,” Lydia’s words ran into each other as she spoke her hands moving with her words as her heartbeat picked up speed. “I’m sorry.” She said again.
He blinked a couple of times when she started apologizing. “Lydia, you haven’t done anything wrong, okay? You don’t need to apologize.” He frowned at the way her lips tugged downward unhappily. He knew how much she liked to be in control, and her powers were anything but in control. It had to be driving her crazy.
He handed her the glass of juice he’d poured and took a sip of his own before setting it down on the nightstand. “Seriously. It’s pretty amazing that you had any kind of head’s up about this at all. That’s huge, you know?”
Lydia took the juice and brought it to her lips taking a long sip to moisten her throat before placing it beside Stiles’ on the nightstand. “I guess if by heads up you mean screaming about some unknown threat,” she said annoyed that she couldn't seem to get a handle on her powers or whatever they were.
“I've done the research, read the books, but nothing says anything about the extent of what I can do or how it all works.” Lydia shook her head, “Did you know in some cultures the Banshee is a creature of revenge?” She asked, “The Scottish people believe she punishes those who betray their loved ones.” She let her hands fall to the hem of her dress again and continued talking.
“In American folklore Banshee’s are just ghouls, harbingers of darkness.” Lydia said softly. “Sure the most popular mythology of the Banshee talks about death omens and stuff, but how do we know which one I am? How do we know that I’m,” she paused, “That I’m not bad or will become bad. What if my screaming is what brings all the death?”
His face paled a little at the mention of revenge for betraying loved ones. He wondered how exactly that worked, and what that particular definition of revenge was, but right now he shoved the thoughts out of his mind, more concerned with how she was doing. The more she talked, the more strained her voice became.
But when she asked how they knew she wasn't bad, he reached out, laying a hand on her arm. “Lydia, you aren't bad. Okay? I've known you for my entire life, and you know I’m good at sensing when someone is bad or evil. And trust me. You’re as far from that as it gets.” He gazed at her intently. “So you’re not evil or bad, and you’re not the one bringing all this here. You just got caught up in it because you feel it on a different level the rest of us don’t.”
Lydia’s expression softened. “Thanks,” she took a deep breath and let it out slowly before sending Stiles half a smile. He was always there to reassure her. “Enough about me though, how are you holding up?” she asked studying his face, concern clear in her features.
He hesitated a moment, then sighed softly, looking down. “Not gonna lie to you, Lyds. I’m freaked out,” he admitted. “Which isn't your fault, so before you start going there again -- I’m glad there’s at least a warning.” He looked up at her again. “It’s just...unsettling.”
Lydia pursed her lips and nodded, “Of course it is. But we’re all here. And we’re going to figure this out.” Even if she couldn't get a handle on how to control her ability. “No one is going to let anything happen to you.” Lydia reached out and placed a hand over his. She inhaled deeply, anxiety building in her stomach.
“Stiles, I wish I could do more.” she told him, “I wish,” Lydia let her sentence trail off, a dozen different thoughts going through her head as she tried to focus on one thing. All she knew was that something was happening to her and she couldn't control it and Lydia hated that.
Stiles looked down at their hands for a moment, then glanced back up at her when she said she wished she could do more. Then her voice trailed off and he gave her hand a light squeeze. “I know.” His voice was quiet.
“And I know if you could, you would.” He knew her well enough to know that. It wasn't something she needed to voice. She wanted to save lives as much as he did, as much as they all did. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” she whispered not entirely sure why she was suddenly feeling emotional. Lydia prided herself on keeping herself together. She wore one face for everyone else and another when she was alone. It had always been that way. Fitting in, being popular, people expected her to be a certain way and so she purposely made herself fit that mold.
But lately, Lydia couldn't seem to keep that facade on when she was with Stiles or even Allison. Hell ever since she found out about werewolves and hunters she’d been an actual part of their group doing what she could to help. Lydia looked up again and brushed some hair out of her face. “I’m worried,” she admitted, “I don’t like not being able to determine the outcome of things.”
He shifted slightly on the bed so his body was angled toward her and he could look at her better. “No one likes to feel like they’re not in control. That’s completely normal. But you’re not alone, okay? We’ll figure this out.” He reached down and laced his fingers through hers.
Lydia glanced at their hands and swallowed hard. “You’re not either,” she told him as her eyes found his, her thumb brushing lightly against his skin. She could feel the knots in her stomach easing, his touch comforting her despite the fact that not long ago it had caused a completely different reaction. “We always figure things out.” Lydia said squeezing his hand gently trying to reassure him and herself.
Stiles offered her a small smile, nodded in agreement, and looked down at their hands for a long moment. “Exactly,” he agreed. “So no worries, okay? We’ll figure this out too. And whatever the next thing is. And the one after that.” Okay, maybe that wasn't so comforting after all. It was like a never-ending cycle of bad, and they’d opened up a can of worms with that ritual they’d done. He wondered if they’d ever see the end of the bad things they’d drawn to their little town. It wasn't like he regretted it; they’d done what they had to in order to save their parents. He’d do it again in a heartbeat. He just hoped they never had to do anything like it again.
“Okay,” Lydia sighed, “Well this just got a little more real than normal,” she joked. Her gaze drifted to the window. “Scott will probably be back soon, what did you want to work on first? History or Biology?” She asked trying to ignore the leftover unsettling feelings inside of her.
Stiles made a face, not really wanting to work on homework at all. “Whichever you’d rather is fine with me.” He gave her hand one more squeeze before reluctantly letting go of it.
Lydia felt his absence the minute his hand released hers and she was suddenly filled with nervous energy. She used her hands to slid to the edge of the bed, the soft fabric brushing against her legs as she let her feet touch the floor and stood. “We should probably work on Biology, you and Scott could use a boost in your grades,” she teased as she started pacing in front of Stiles’ bedroom window.
He arched an eyebrow. "Well, Scott yes, but as far as I know, an A's the highest grade you can get so I think I'm okay," he teased back. He frowned a little as he watched her beginning to pace. Normally Lydia wasn't a pacer, and Stiles was perceptive enough to notice things like that. He was a pacer. Which meant she was more worried than she was letting on. That, in turn, made his stomach tighten. "Hey." He reached out and stilled her movements by placing his hands on her shoulders.
Lydia blinked when Stiles appeared in front of her suddenly. Her brows drew together when she realized what she'd been doing. Lydia forced her body to relax the heat from Stiles' palms helping with that. "Hi," she said.
Lydia mashed her lips together letting her teeth sink into her bottom lip while catching Stiles' gaze. "I forgot your grades are as good as mine." she said finally with a slight smile. Most people didn't realize just how smart she was and Lydia liked it that way.
He searched her eyes for a moment, his own eyes troubled as he watched her. but when she bit her bottom lip, his gaze dropped there. Nope, don't go there, he thought. Just don't go there. You guys are friends now, don't dwell on possibilities that aren't valid.
Stiles drew in a breath and nodded. "It's okay. It isn't like we don't have other things to worry about, right?"
Lydia let out a strained laugh, "Yeah, I guess we have." She almost wished her mind would go completely blank so she could rest easy. It was hard not to be anxious when she was running dozens of different scenarios in her head of what could go wrong, how, and with who.
She was once again lost in her thoughts as she stood in front of Stiles the faraway sound of running water once again pulling at her senses.
"Lydia." His voice was soft, worried when he saw her eyes start to glaze over. "Hey. You with me?" Not really thinking about it, he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, pausing when he realized what he'd done, and holding his breath.
The simple action brought focus to Lydia's eyes and when they locked with Stiles' there was a hint of confusion in them. It only lasted a second before she swallowed hard and spoke. "Yes," her voice was soft and quiet. Lydia let her gaze drop briefly to his lips, the strange sound still lingering softly in the background.
He swallowed hard when she looked at his mouth, and dammit, he wished he was better at reading these kinds of things. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience. You’re dying. Just go for it, he thought. A soft sigh escaped him as he shifted closer, cupping her face in one hand before dipping his head and capturing her mouth in a tender kiss.
Clarity hit Lydia like a ton of bricks when she felt his lips against hers. They were soft, warm, and maybe even held a hint of roughness to them. Her hand reached out of it’s own accord and curled around his shirt, bunching the material in the palm of her hand as she moved her lips reflexively against his.
Lydia let her eyes fall shut as her heartbeat sped up. The anxiety in her stomach disappeared replaced by a new feeling that she hadn't felt in a long time. She broke the kiss a minute later, parting their lips and sucking in a sharp breath. “It’s gone,” she whispered, her head completely silent, the sound she’d been hearing and the strangling darkness gone completely for the moment anyway.
It was his turn to feel slightly dazed as he blinked a few times when she broke the kiss. Her words made no sense. It was gone? What was gone? he wondered, confused. In the back of his mind he did a victory dance at the fact that she hadn’t slapped him or shoved him away. She’d returned the kiss. What did that mean?
“What’s gone?” he asked uncertainly, taking a step back from her to try and focus on their conversation rather than the fact that he wanted to kiss her again. And again after that.
Lydia flushed, a rare occurrence, when she realized she’d said that out loud. “There was this weird noise, but it’s gone now.” She glanced at Stiles appraisingly and uncurled her hand from his shirt. “What was that for?” She asked remembering a time not long ago where she’d kissed him out of nowhere too.
“Weird noise?” he echoed, frowning. When she pulled her hand away and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, it was his turn to flush. “Oh. Uh, well, you seemed like you were anxious or upset or something and I thought maybe the whole holding your breath technique might help you the same way it did me so…” His voice trailed off and he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly unsure of whether or not she’d been okay with him kissing her.
Lydia’s lip twitched at the corner as she held his gaze. “Good thinking,” she said a soft smile finally pulling at her lips. “Thanks,” she added before addressing the other part of his question and trying not to think about how good the kiss felt. “I’m not sure, it sounded like a faucet or something,” she told him with a wave of her hand, “It’s gone though.”
Stiles chewed his lower lip, nodding at her response to his answer about the kiss. Apparently they weren't going to talk about it this time either. It was probably for the best. “So like water.” This time, he began to pace, though at a slower pace than she.
“Stop,” Lydia said, a warning in her tone as she watched him starting to pace again. “Yes, water.” she told him as she turned. “I’m not sure why, but it’s probably nothing. Now, homework,” she said as she walked over to the bed, sat on the edge and reached for one of the text books. “Well, come on. I’m not going to bite you know.” Lydia glanced at Stiles and smiled hiding the sliver of disappointment that he’d used the same excuse she had when kissing her. With everything going on though, it was probably for the best.
______
It always came back to the fucking Nemeton. The night was rainy and cold and he shivered as it drenched him to the bone. Even though he knew he shouldn’t, Stiles approached the stump, drawn to it like a magnet. He licked his lips, reaching out to touch it, only to be grabbed by a vine that wound its way around his wrist, yanking him closer.
“No,” he protested as it pulled him closer, like it was trying to eat him alive.
It wound around him more tightly until he was actually laying atop it, more vines creeping up and binding him to the tree, water beginning to fall directly into his face, though he couldn’t find the source.
He was choking on it, gagging as he tried to spit it out. But the fluid kept raining down on him, pouring down his mouth and into his nose.
Stiles couldn’t breathe.
Scott shifted on the floor, turning in his sleep, hand stretched out beneath the pillow, light snoring filling the room. In the back of his head he could hear a noise urging him from sleep. Scott groaned flipping onto his back and blinking his eyes open, the ceiling staring back at him.
He lifted his hand and rubbed it down his face trying to figure out what had pulled him from sleep. It had been a long night making sure Stiles’ house was secure and then studying with Lydia until she left, and Scott was exhausted. He felt Stiles’ bed shifted and he tilted his head back to get a look at his friend and the second he did, Scott’s eyes widened.
“Stiles, wake up!” He called as he stood, his hands reaching out to his friend as he watched water spill from Stiles’ mouth. “What the hell...Stiles wake up!” He all but shouted as he shook him, fear gripping him hard as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on.
He gasped for breath but instead of air, there was just more water, pouring out of him while he flailed involuntarily, panicking even as Scott shouted his name. It’s just a dream, he told himself, trying to calm his body’s natural reaction to drowning. Wake up, Stiles. Wake up, he thought desperately, body heaving up the water from his lungs.
His heart was pounding so hard he was afraid it was going to burst out of his chest. But if it stopped the pain that was literally exploding in his head maybe that would be the better alternative. Wake up.
Stiles tried to focus on Scott’s voice, but even as his best friend turned him onto his side, the edges of his vision were getting fuzzy, going dimmer. Where the hell was all the water coming from? He reached out, grabbing onto Scott’s arm and squeezing hard, eyes spilling tears down his cheeks. He was going to die.
Scott bent down and gripped Stiles arm, “No, it’s not going to happen like this you hear me?” He said, his voice hard and emotional as he tried to expand his senses to figure out what was causing this. “Stiles hold on, I’m going to fix this I promise, just,” Scott’s voice cut out for second as he spoke through the lump in his throat, “Please,” he said his voice breaking as he banged his hand carefully against Stiles’ back trying to get as much water out as possible, but from the look on his friends face, it wasn’t helping...nothing was and Scott wasn’t sure what else to do. How he hell was he supposed to fix this?
***
Lydia frowned as she walked barefoot in the woods, confusion filling her as she spotted the Nemeton with a bunch of vines growing beside it. Unbelievable Why was she there and what was going on? She must be dreaming. She started to turn around and walk away when the vines moved, shifting and separating.
Lydia’s eyes turned to slits and when she heard a scream her eyes shot wide open, fear filling her body and making her go ridged. “Oh god Stiles!” She ran across the forest, feet hitting the ground, leaves crunching under them. She practically threw herself at the vines, clawing and scratching at them as she yelled for Stiles, but nothing helped. She couldn’t get to him.
Her body thrashed back and forth on her bed and she frowned in her sleep. Lydia could see the water now, it was everywhere, but not matter how much she called for him or pulled at the vines nothing gave way. And just like that Lydia woke with a powerful scream, her body jerking up in bed, as her voice pierced through the room, mouth wide, eyes vacant.
Beside her, Allison shot up in bed, eyes widening as her best friend screamed loudly, more loudly than she could ever remember anyone screaming. “Lydia!” She reached out, turning the lamp on quickly and turning to the redhead with frightened eyes. “What’s going on? What did you see?”
Lydia sobbed and gripped her throat as she sucked in several deep breaths her hand shaking as she placed it on the bed beside between her and Allison, her lungs burning with a need for oxygen. “Stiles,” she gasped her voice hoarse as she reached over to her nightstand fumbling with things and knocking them down until her hand closed over her cell phone.
Her chest was still tight, as she continued breathing in air greedily. “I…” she paused, “Can’t breathe...couldn’t breathe. Stiles.” Lydia said again as she pressed the button on her phone and called Stiles knowing she wouldn’t be okay until she heard his voice.
It barely registered when Scott flinched a moment later because he realized that the water was gone, that he was pulling air into his lungs now instead. He gasped, shuddering as he gripped his friend’s arm for a second longer before he let go, shoving himself into a seated position on the bed. His eyes were still wild as he looked around, trying to figure out what was going on.
“What...am I dreaming? Am I still dreaming?” His voice shook as he looked down at his hands. “What’s happening?” Distantly he heard the sound of his cell phone ringing, but it didn’t occur to him what it was until after it had stopped.
Scott was sitting on the bed now next to Stiles, relief coloring his features. “Your awake, it’s okay,” he said even though it was far from okay. Scott had seen a lot of things since he’d become a werewolf, but he’d never seen anything like that before. “What were you dreaming Stiles, what happened man?” He needed to know what the hell was going on in his friends head that might have caused this.
He drew in a ragged breath, looking down at his now-soaked t-shirt. Where the hell had all that water come from? Instinctively, he looked up to see if there was a hole in the ceiling, thinking maybe it was raining…
Raining. It had been raining. “The Nemeton.” He swallowed hard. “I was dreaming about the Nemeton.” He raked a shaky hand through his hair. “It grabbed me.”
Scott frowned, “But...Stiles you were, there was water coming out of your mouth.” He said his brows drawing together, chest tightening at the image of his friend trying to take a breath while water poured out of his mouth flashed in front of his eyes. “You scared the crap out of me.” Scott said quietly as the sound of a phone going off broke the silence in the room again.
“It was raining,” he murmured. “It was raining a lot.” He ran a hand over his throat, which was burning from the choking he’d been doing. The choking that had been very, very real. Disoriented, he reached out and picked up his cell phone, seeing Lydia’s name flash across the screen. He pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Thank god, I called twice,” Lydia said a spark of anger in her voice, but it was only there to mask the fear. Her hand that held the phone couldn’t seem to keep steady and she avoided looking at Allison as she spoke. “Are you okay?” It was a stupid question, of course he wasn’t okay, but what else could she ask? Hearing his voice was helping, but not nearly enough.
He didn’t answer for a moment, because he didn’t know how. How did you tell someone that you just drowned in your sleep when there wasn’t even any water around? It made no sense. Then again, what in their lives really did make sense these days? “No. No, not really,” he admitted, exhaling. The problem was, he didn’t know how he could change that.
Lydia was quiet for a second, “I felt it,” she whispered, “I thought...Stiles.” She paused again swallowing heavily to moisten her throat, “We need some help. We need someone who knows more about the Nemeton and how it works.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him that she’d been terrified that he was dead or that all she wanted to do was hug him, because it was an out of character emotion for her and yet really it was all Lydia wanted at the moment.
He rubbed a hand over his face, exhausted and yet wide awake from the adrenaline that was still coursing through his veins. “Yeah. We need…” He paused, glancing up and looking at Scott. “We need Deaton.”
Scott didn’t even question it. “I’ll call him in the morning.” He glanced at the clock and winced at the time. It was early, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be going back to sleep again that night, not after what he saw.
Stiles nodded slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Scott says he’ll call him in the morning.” He shut his eyes. He wanted to tell her what had happened, but for now he figured it was best to let her just think she’d somehow felt his dream. Maybe it would give her a chance to get some rest for the night, even if he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to be sleeping again in the near future.
“Okay,” She said glancing down at her blanket and picking at it. “I guess I should let you go?” Lydia said though it came out as more of a question than anything else. She didn’t want to let him go, but she knew there wasn’t much she could do from over the phone in the middle of the night.
His chest felt tight and he chewed on his lower lip for a moment. “My dad’s working third shift tonight.” He wasn’t even sure what made him say it, really. “You guys could come over.”
Lydia let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” She said already throwing the covers off her body as she held the phone to her ear. “I’ve just got to grab a change of clothes for school tomorrow and we’ll head over.” She paused in front of her closet and tilted her head to the side as she glanced over her clothes. “Stay safe until we get there.” Lydia said leaving no room for argument.
Allison arched her eyebrows at the turn of events unfolding in front of her, wondering exactly what the hell was going on. Instead of asking questions -- which she’d save for the car ride over to Stiles’, she got out of bed and changed into the clothes she’d picked out for school the next day, slipping her shoes on.
“Yeah. Yeah, I will. And uh -- drive safe, okay?” he added quietly.
“I will. We’ll see you soon.” She said before disconnecting the call. Lydia grabbed a skirt, a blouse and a pair of heels tossing them into a duffle bag as she glanced over her shoulder at Allison. She cocked her head to the side when she saw her friend already dressed. “Thanks,” she said sending Allison half a smile.
“Sure. You wanna fill me in, though? What’s going on?” There was definite confusion in Allison’s voice. “Is Stiles okay?”
Lydia shook her head as she pulled a pair of sweats on beneath her lace nightgown. “No, he’s not. He says he’s fine, but I know better.” She said softly. “I’ll explain what happened on the way to his house, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, frowning deeply. That didn’t sound good at all.
______
Scott ran a hand through his hair and made a face as he lifted a blanket off the floor confusion on his face as he watched Stiles. “So you’re saying Allison and Lydia are on their way here...now?” He said while pointing down trying to make sure he was hearing his friend right. Scott glanced at the clock, “We’re going to have to take out the sleeping bags aren’t we?” He didn’t think they’d be coming over this late unless they were staying, which was something else that Scott found odd especially after what just happened.
“She’s freaked out,” Stiles told Scott, arching his eyebrows. “I couldn’t tell her no.” Not that he would have even if he’d felt like he could have. This was Lydia Martin they were talking about, the girl he’d loved since he was eight years old. “It’s not a big deal, dude. We’ll just, I don’t know, watch movies or something.” He shrugged, pulling his wet t-shirt off over his head. The t-shirt that was drenched with water he’d been choking on in his dream. God their lives were weird.
Scott blinked, “Dude you just choked on a mouth full of water,” he pointed to the still damp floor, “It literally came out of your mouth, poured actually. And you're worried about Lydia freaking out?” Scott couldn’t help the chuckle that left his throat. “You’ve got it so bad.” He said with a shake of his head, a grin pulling at his lips.
The sound of a door opening made him glance at the open bedroom door. His eyebrows lifted, “She knows where the spare key is? How often does she come here?” Scott asked wondering if he’d missed something with everything that had been going on lately.
He groaned a little. Like he needed the reminder of how bad he had it for Lydia. He knew that his crush on Lydia had long since grown past epic proportions and that it was now somewhat both sad and pathetic, considering. He changed into a clean shirt before turning to face Scott once more. “Yes. I’m worried about her freaking out.” His voice was flat, but not harsh. Not with Scott. He could be harsh with nearly anyone else, but Scott wasn’t one of those people.
Stupid jerk.
“Uhh…” He shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Once in awhile?” he tried, looking at his friend innocently. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what point Lydia had started hanging out regularly at his house, in his bedroom and on his bed and when it had become just another part of their friendship.
Scott smirked, “You’ve been keeping things from me, not cool.” He said his tone mockingly stern. The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, two heartbeats, one steady the other erraticly vibrating in his ears. Scott glanced at the door right as Lydia and Allison came into the doorway. His gaze fell on Allison and he hesitated, “Ladies,” he said while reaching back and scratching his neck.
Lydia's gaze quickly darted passed Scott and to Stiles who was pulling on a shirt. She maneuvered her way into the room quickly walking around Scott and practically threw herself at Stiles wrapping her arms around his neck, her heartbeat finally starting to calm down. “You’re okay.” She stated even though there was still a hint of a question in her voice.
Allison offered Scott a small, hesitant smile in return, arching her eyebrows as she watched her best friend launch herself at Stiles and hug him tightly.
Stiles was surprised for a brief second, but he wrapped his arms around Lydia in return, exhaling slowly as he nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.” Sort of, anyway. Choking on dream water wasn’t exactly normal, that was for sure. But their lives hadn’t been normal for a pretty long time now and he doubted they ever would be again. Not really. “Are you okay?” He pulled back to look at her, eyes filled with worry.
Lydia nodded, “I had to make sure...you couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t help,” she whispered. “I tried in my dream I tried.”
Scott frowned. “What do you mean you tried to help in your dream?” He glanced between Lydia and Allison.
Lydia let her hands fall from Stiles arms and she swallowed hard as she turned to face Scott and Allison. “I saw him being attacked by the Nemeton. It grabbed him and there was so much rain and then...I couldn't breathe. If felt like,” she paused, “Like I was drowning.”
Scott’s eyes widened and darted to Stiles. “He was drowning. Here.” He pointed to the part of the floor that was still wet.
“What?” Lydia’s voice seemed shrill when she spoke. “How is that possible?”
Allison’s mouth dropped open. “What do you mean, he was actually --” Her gaze fell to the floor where there was a large water puddle there. “Wait.” She held her hand up and looked at Lydia. “Has this ever happened before? Where you’ve actually witnessed someone else’s dream?” Because that was new for her. And it was huge.
Stiles reached out and curled his fingers around Lydia’s arm gently. “It’s fine. I’m okay.” Although truthfully he was a little more freaked out than he cared to admit.
Lydia shook her head, “No, never.” She barely remember her own dreams let alone ran around in other people’s. She had been pretty good dealing with the whole Banshee thing and finding out about werewolves and crazy Darach’s. But Lydia was pretty sure this was all starting to get to her.
She pulled herself from her thoughts and arched an eyebrow while glancing between Scott and Stiles. “Well, how did you stop it?”
Scott shrugged, his shoulders lifting high as he shook his head. “I have no clue. One minute I was leaning over him freaking out and the next it was over and then Stiles was answering the phone and it was you.” He explained not sure how they had shared the same dream, but knowing this definitely wasn’t a good thing.
Stiles looked between them for a moment as they talked, something clicking in his mind. Something that made him more than a little uneasy. “Uh.”
Allison frowned, looking worried. “You two were literally sharing an actual dream.” A dream in which Stiles was dying. That definitely wasn’t normal, but maybe it was just part of Lydia’s unfound banshee abilities. Maybe it was going to be her new thing.
“The ritual.” Stiles swallowed hard, gaze darting up to look at Scott first, then at Lydia.
Scott frowned and he and Lydia spoke at the same time. “The ritual?” She sent a disapproving look in Scott’s direction before directing her statement at Stiles. “What ritual?”
Realization hit Scott. “The Nemeton ritual. Lydia was your anchor…” he said letting his voice trail off. But what exactly did it mean that they were sharing dreams?
Stiles nodded silently, looking at her once more. He’d drowned in that ritual, and he’d drowned in his dream, and he had the distinct feeling that it had been Lydia who’d saved his life by pulling him back both times. “I think...you literally were in my dream tonight. And I think if you hadn’t been…” His voice trailed off.
Allison’s eyes widened a little as she looked at Scott with alarm. If Lydia hadn’t been in Stiles’ dream, he believed he would’ve died.
Scott swallowed hard and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “It’s late. Why don’t we all try to relax and tomorrow morning we’ll all go see Deaton, he’s our best bet to figuring this out if it has something to do with the Nemeton.” Scott knew they had already decided to do that, but he didn’t think reiterating the decision would hurt anyone.
“I’m gonna go grab some paper towels and sleeping bags from the closet,” Scott turned to Stiles, “They’re still in the same place right?”
Stiles glanced at him, nodding once more. “Yeah.” His voice was quiet, quieter than usual, troubled by the weight of his own suspicions. Troubled because it meant more trouble for all of them and not just him. Because it meant more trouble for her and he hated being the one to cause that kind of trouble. He exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck and then opening his closet, pulling out a couple of extra blankets and pillows while Scott dug the sleeping bags out of the hall closet.
“I’m just -- gonna help Scott with the sleeping bags,” Allison said, ducking out of the room.
Lydia watched Stiles for a minute before breaking the silence in the room. “How are you really doing?” She asked as she walked up behind him. “You can tell me.” She said quietly.
“Freaked out,” he said honestly, not turning to look at her. “More than a little freaked out, really.”
Lydia hesitated, but only for a second before shifting forward and resting a hand on the back of his shoulder, squeezing it gently.”We’re going to figure this out. I promise.” They had to.
“I’m sorry you’re caught up in the middle of this crap.” His voice was sincere, but he still didn’t turn around.
Lydia frowned, “Stiles look at me,” she said softly, “Come on turn around.” She said as she ran her hand down his back.
He drew in a breath and turned to face her like she requested, expression weary. He knew what she was going to say. That she wasn’t sorry that she was caught up in the middle of things, even if on some level she was. Stiles knew she wanted to help, that she didn’t like being left out of things the way she had been for so long. But being so deeply involved in all of the supernatural business was incredibly dangerous, and taxing, and for the sake of her safety and sanity he hated it for her.
Lydia reached up and cupped his cheek. “You’re thinking too much, stop.” She commanded. “I don’t regret helping or being here. I just want you to be okay.” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “We’ll talk to Deaton, he’ll know what to do, but until then I think Scott might be right. Maybe we all just need to take a breath and calm down.”
Stiles held his breath as he gazed at her for a long moment, nodding reluctantly as he leaned into her touch. “So we’ll just...have a slumber party,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “I could make some popcorn and we can watch movies.” No way in hell was he planning to go back to sleep tonight.
Lydia smiled, “Great, I like M & M’s with my popcorn,” she said as she glanced over to where she’d dropped her bag. She unbuttoned her jacket and slid it off before glancing down, “Um and maybe a shirt?” She said taking in her nightgown. Probably not the best thing to be wearing in a room full of people.
He blinked a couple of times. “You do?” There was genuine surprise in his voice. “I didn’t realize other people did that.” And then he was staring at her in her nightgown, face flushing as he turned around, swallowing hard. “Right. Shirt. I can do that.” He forced himself to take a deep breath before pulling out a Beacon Hills Lacrosse t-shirt from his closet and holding it out for her.
Lydia couldn’t quite hide the smile that pulled at her lips as she took the shirt from him. “Thanks,” she said as she tossed her jacket aside and pulled it over her head. “I didn’t know you liked your popcorn that way either. Great minds and all.” She said as she walked over to Stiles bed and sat on the edge bringing her hand to her mouth covering a yawn.
“My uh -- my mom. She introduced my dad to the concept of popcorn and M&M’s when they were dating.” Stiles smiled faintly, ducking his head for a moment. “Apparently he thought it was a really strange combination and ever since then, it’s been one of the famous Stilinski food pairings.”
Lydia tilted her head to the side. “It’s a good pairing, the best.” She said softly. She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything Scott walked back into the room with some sleeping bags. “Okay, how are we setting this up? Oh I got paper towels for the water too.” He said breaking the moment between Lydia and Stiles.
If he’d been anyone else, Stiles probably would have glared. Instead, he just shook his head good-naturedly. “The girls can have the bed,” he suggested. “We can take the floor.”
Scott dropped the sleeping bags on the floor and bent down to wipe up the water with the paper towels. “Works for me.” He said while wiping it up. He tossed the crumpled up paper towels in Stiles’ garbage and then laid out the sleeping bags. He glanced between Stiles and Lydia, “Allison is grabbing some snacks, I’m thinking a comedy...something without water or supernatural creatures,” he joked trying to lightly the mood.
“So Jaws is out?” Stiles said wryly, smirking involuntarily.
“No sharks before bed,” Allison responded as she walked in carrying a couple different bags of chips, a jar of peanut butter, and some celery stalks.
“Kill joy,” he shot back, plucking one of the chip bags from her hands and opening it.
“We can do better than Jaws,” Lydia said as she slid off the bed and sat on one of the sleeping bags stretching out her legs. “I vote for The Notebook,” she said as she reached for a celery stick.
Scott shook his head. “I veto The Notebook.” He said with a grin as he stole one of Stiles’ chips. “Action?” He suggested as he sat down too and leaned back against the bed.
Allison flopped back onto Stiles’ bed, rolling her eyes at her friends. Only the four of them would be having an argument about which movie to watch less than an hour after two of them had shared a supernatural dream and one of them had nearly died.
______
The Sheriff ran a hand down the back of his neck and sighed as he walked into the kitchen. He had just gotten off a triple shift and he was exhausted. He glanced at the clock and groaned. He needed to make sure Stiles was awake and getting ready for school before he showered, slept for a few hours and headed back to the station.
He took a few steps pausing at the chair to strip off his coat. He draped it over the back of the chair and then headed down the hallway. He passed Stiles room figuring he’d change real quick first, but paused when he saw something odd out of the corner of his eye.
He pursed his lips and backtracked taking a few steps back before turning to face his sons open bedroom door. His brows lifted when he spotted stiles sleeping on his stomach on the floor with Lydia beside him, her hand resting along his back. Scott’s head was on his son’s legs and Allison was resting between Lydia and Scott her head against Scott’s torso.
The Sheriff was silent for a minute, “What the hell…” his voice trailed off and he stepped into the room careful not to step on any stray limbs. He came to a stop beside Stiles and squatted, keeping his temper in check he shook his son gently awake. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
Stiles jerked his head up, blinking a few times as he tried to figure out why his dad was waking him up. And then he spotted Lydia, asleep beside him, one shoulder bare from where the too-large shirt had slipped down her arm, and Scott, snoring softly less than two feet away, Allison’s head on Scott’s torso and her legs tangled with Lydia’s. From his dad’s perspective, it didn’t paint a very innocent picture. Awkward.
“Nightmares,” he said honestly, keeping his voice low so as not to wake his friends. He willed his dad to understand, to not be upset. He himself had been dealing with Stiles’ nightmares for years and more recently, very vivid ones he’d had to scream himself awake from, waking to find himself wrapped in his dad’s arms as he tried to calm Stiles down. They hadn’t talked about the actual dreams, and Stiles hadn’t told him the details. Yeah, he was in on the werewolf secret, but Stiles couldn’t fight the urge he had to keep trying to protect his father by leaving him out of some of the darker aspects of the reality Stiles and his friends faced regularly. He just hoped that his dad knew and understood him well enough to get that he was being serious and honest this time.
The sheriff held his son’s gaze trying to figure out whether or not he was telling the truth, but one look at his face and he knew he was. Stiles exaggerated a lot of truths and told some off colored lies with a side of sarcasm, but nine times out of ten it was for a good reason. Now that he knew about Scott and...things Stiles had been good about not keeping too much from him.
“We’re going to need to talk about this at some point.” He said keeping his voice quiet as he glanced around at the rest of the kids on the floor.
He swallowed hard, nodding slightly in agreement because he couldn’t exactly tell him no. He couldn’t exactly tell him the truth, either, but agreeing would at least buy him some time to come up with a valid explanation that wouldn’t freak his dad out entirely. He was pretty sure that “Hey, Pops, we did this ritual a few weeks ago where me and Scott and Allison died, but it was all so that you and Mrs. McCall and Mr. Argent could live, and ever since then, my mind’s been an open door for death beckoning me closer,” wouldn’t go over very well.
“Okay.” He raked a hand through his hair, looking down at Lydia for a second, then back up at his dad. “Work was okay?” he whispered.
He didn’t miss the way his son glanced at Lydia, but he said nothing and nodded. “Work was fine,” well the part where he could avoid Scott’s Dad, but he didn’t say that either. “I’ve got to head back in a few hours, but I wanted to make sure you were up for school.” He explained keeping his voice low.
Lydia sighed softly and shifted, “Stiles,” she mumbled in her sleep shifting her hand on his back, but not waking up.
The Sheriff arched an eyebrow at his son. “Nightmares?” He said verifying Stiles’ admission wanting to make sure he’d heard him right.
“Nightmares,” he echoed without hesitation, gaze flickering to Lydia once more, worriedly. He looked at his dad. “That’s all it was, Dad.” At least for the other three that’s all it was. It was a lot more than that for Stiles, in more ways than one. “I’m up. I’ll wake them in a minute,” he assured his dad.
The Sheriff nodded, “Alright, but every single one of you better be in school,” he said while straightening up and pointing at his son. “I’ll be checking in later you hear?” He asked as he started making his way back toward the bedroom door stepping over Scott in the process, whose snoring seemed to grow louder by the second.
Stiles rubbed a hand over his face tiredly, dropping his head forward and onto the pillow beneath him. Well. That was certainly one way to start a new day, he thought.