"You don't see that?"

Allison sent a withering glance in her friend's direction as she spoke the same question she'd been asking all day. She rolled her eyes as she grabbed her history book from inside her locker before slamming it shut.

"See what, Lydia? You've been asking that all day."

"Well forgive me, Allison, if my insistent questioning is bothering you," Lydia spat back.

The irritation was clear on both the girls' faces as they leaned into the wall of lockers. They stayed silent for a second longer; Allison clutching her history book tightly to his chest as Lydia played absentmindedly with the ends of her hair.

"I'm sorry," they both spoke up in unison.

The simultaneous apology caused both of them to laugh as they felt the edge that had encircled around them suddenly dissipate.

"I didn't mean to snap at you, Lyds. It's just-you've been asking that same question all day. Every time you look at him."

Lydia knew the him Allison was referring too. Stiles. Of course it was Stiles. Ever since the black light party at Derek's something appeared to be off about the boy. Every time she attempted to speak to him Stiles would seem…off. As if his words were forced and his tone flat as he tried to hide the underside of panic that laid just underneath. Lydia wasn't sure if she could actually tell the difference or if she could just sense it.

The idea of being so attuned to Stiles and his moods should have worried her, but that was another issue for another day. Today, Lydia was dealing with the fact she didn't know if what she was seeing was real or not. From time to time her eyes would catch a spider like web of darkness that spiraled out against the paleness of Stiles neck. So dark that even from across the hall Lydia would've been able to map out a precise replica of the design. It seemed to trail farther down past his neck and down onto his back. But the minute she turned away or a fellow student or wall or anything blocked her vision of him it disappeared.

Lydia only ever saw it half an hour or a full hour later, and just like before, it would be gone again.

"Is there something that you want to tell me?"

Lydia turned a confused eye to Allison. Her lips already forming in a pout as she replied, voice heavy with curiosity, "About what?"

A sly smile spread across Allison's lips as she pushed off of her locker. The girls made their way down the hall towards their awaiting class. Lydia didn't even care that the late bell hadn't rung yet.

"You know what. You spent time with him in his room the other night, right? What were you guys doing?"

Allison nudged her playfully with her shoulder and even though Lydia fought not to smile at Allison's playful implication, it seemed it was a losing battle.

"Nothing happened. I told you we were just there going over the case to find out where Barrow was."

"The case? Seriously Lydia," Allison snorted.

Lydia shot her a pointed look as her teeth grabbed a hold of her upper lip.

"Is there something else I should be calling it?"

"No, no. I just think it's cute you already have you and your husbands detective agency going. What's the name going to be on the door? Martin-Stilinski or Stilinski-Martin? Scott and I could never decide which one of you would take whose last name."

This time Lydia smacked Allison on her arm but the smiling brunette was unfazed. Her laughter filtering around them let Lydia know she had more than expected the reaction from her.

"You are just awful. You know that?" Lydia snipped as she strode forward only to have Allison's laughter follow her inside.

xxxxxxxx

She'd been openly staring at him the entire class. Lydia could tell from the disgusting smirks that Scott and Isaac wore on their smug little wolf faces that they could tell too. But Lydia completely ignored them and played off her fear for annoyance.

They didn't see what she saw. That as she continued to watch the darkness of the spiraling vein design slowly took back its place around the side of Stiles throat. She watched it move with deadly efficiency as it spread slowly. It seemed that along with the spreading darkness, Stiles skin somehow became paler; almost translucent. He wasn't really paying attention to Mr. Yukimura or even to the blank paper he'd been zoning in on for the past twenty-seven minutes (not like she had taken notice or anything).

A few moments ago she noticed a tremor start in his large hands. Stiles tried to hide it as he gripped his hands around the edges of his desk. With each tremor of his body Lydia watched in horror as that darkness spread further.

Lydia's own stomach began to twist in knots. The rising panic gripping tight and holding on to her insides as she struggled to calm herself. This isn't me, she thought numbly. Lydia Martin had never had a panic attack a day in her life. But Stiles Stilinski had.

A sudden tapping on her desk caused her to look down. Her own hand trembling in sync with Stiles had caused her pencil to tap on the generic wood of her desk. Lydia dropped the pencil and dropped her hands down into her lap.

A sick feeling of dread welled up deep inside her sternum making it almost impossible to focus on something else.

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

Lydia closed her eyes as the whispered words repeated in her ear. She prayed it would stop as tears stung the back of her eyes and that feeling of dread stirred together with panic until it was a heavy cocktail that felt like lead on her tongue.

The voice sounded like Stiles. The heaviness felt like him and when Lydia looked over she finally noticed his lips were moving as she could all but guess the words he was fiercely whispering on repeat.

Lydia had no idea how she was going to get his attention. But she didn't have to worry about it when his body suddenly jerked back into his seat. His face flush and eyes wide and searching. Lydia could see the struggle Stiles was having as he licked his lips nervously. So when he asked to be excused to use the restroom she wasn't surprised.

What surprised her the most was when she asked the same question only a few moments after he had left. She all but had to have a verbal war of girls needs during a certain time of the month before Mr. Yukimura excused her with a sigh.

The minute she stepped outside the classroom her feet began to walk her towards where she knew Stiles went. A part of Lydia figured maybe he really did go to the boys' bathroom. Something inside of her, however, screamed at her that it was the boys' locker room he'd gone to find sanctuary.

Before she entered, she double checked to make sure no one watched her as she pushed through the door and locked it behind her. Lydia didn't need anyone aimlessly wondering in. Especially a teacher.

Lydia felt like her movements were robotic and like she was in a trance. Her feet gliding her towards where they knew she needed to go. Her eyes barely glancing over to the corner where she had kissed Stiles. All for the sole purpose of stopping his panic attack. Just another lie she told herself to keep her life less complicated than it already was.

When Lydia rounded the corner that's when she spotted him. Stiles back was rigid as he took in heavy breathes that released shakily from between his ribs. He wasn't looking at himself in the mirror but more focused on the porcelain of the sink beneath him. He was gripping the sink so tight his knuckles blended effortlessly with the color.

"Stiles?"

Her cautious tone rang out loud in the quiet space around them. His spine slightly tensing being the only indication of his acknowledgement of her presence. Lydia took a few more steps closer; words dying heavy in her throat before they even made it past her lips. The closer she got to him the more Lydia felt like something was wrong. Very, very, deadly wrong.

Finally she went to speak again when his voice cut across the silence causing her to jump involuntarily.

"What are you doing in here Lydia? This is the boys' locker room."

"I'm well aware of that," she started. Her upper lip curling in as she felt the heavy weight of tears thickening around her vision. "But I have this…feeling. I have this feeling that you aren't okay."

She was now right behind him. Perfectly centered with his left shoulder and able to look over it to the mirror Stiles faced. The reflection she saw staring back at her made her knees weak with fear.

This couldn't be her Stiles looking back at her. He was extremely sickly looking; skin as pale as a ghost and whiskey colored eyes sunken to a hollowed out brown. Matching thick patches of indigo colored around his each eye like a long-standing bruise that had never seemed to fade. But what terrified her the most were those eyes.

Void of all emotion. All emotion except hate.

When the fluorescent lights seemed to catch a glint of them a silver film shined off from them and instantly Lydia wanted to back away and run.

"And what sort of feeling would that be little banshee?"

It sounded like Stiles. More like it was Stiles but it didn't sound like him. It was his voice but it didn't sound like Stiles. No. This wasn't Stiles. Even his voice had grown husky with contempt. Dry and harsh like the desert but more brutal. There was no hint of sarcasm. No sweetness that made her have to bit her cheek to keep from smiling as his words made it to her ears.

"You and I. We're going to have so much fun. Just you wait and see."

Lydia shut her eyes as tight as she could make them. Her small hands balling up into tight little fists as a sickly sweet chuckle rose up around her.

No. Not my Stiles.

"Lydia? Lydia!"

Her body gave a jolt as her eyes bolted open. Registering the face in the mirror as changed and different and, this was her Stiles. He still didn't look any better, however. His cheeks had a little more color to them and the bruising around his eyes wasn't that noticeable but he didn't look okay. Because he wasn't okay.

Without thinking about it Lydia moved up quickly behind him and secured her arms tightly against his waist. Lydia didn't care how this must look or what Stiles must be thinking of her. All she could do was bury her face into the stupid fabric of his flannel shirt. The tears she'd been fighting openly cascading down her face as she held on to him tighter.

"Hey, Lyds. Are you alright?"

Stiles tried to coax her as she felt a hand delicately brush against one of hers. When she didn't show signs of pulling away Stiles let his large hand fold over both of her clenched ones. Lydia pressed herself flush against the back of him.

"Are you?"

Her voice barely carried above a whisper. For a moment she didn't think he had heard it. But when his hand tightened for just a moment around hers, she knew he had. He just couldn't answer her. So they stayed like that; her wrapped tightly around him from behind, face buried in his back. One hand holding them up as they leaned in to the sink while the other stayed wrapped tightly in between both of her hands.

Lydia figured maybe if she squeezed hard enough maybe she could keep the darkness away. If only she knew how wrong she would be.

I really hoped that you guys enjoyed this! comments, questions, or even reviews would be awesome!

Thank you lovelies so much for reading!

Much Love, J