Set after the 5A finale; Theo's pack has fled into the woods to try and assimilate themselves with the pack mentality, and Lydia was left lying on the floor. Paralysed from Theo's invasion of her mind, she was eventually found by Parrish, and since she wasn't a chimera and technically not dead, he took her to the place where she could be best cared for.
Stiles stood by his father's bedside, clutching his hand and his head lowered in thoughtful prayer. He'd known Theo was a conniving sociopath, but he hadn't known he was a psychopath. Stiles had no idea that Theo would be more of a threat to his father than Donovan, but then again, Donovan's threats had been clear.
Theo, on the other hand, had tried to worm his way into the pack and he'd succeeded. After all, it was because of Theo that Scott wasn't talking to Stiles. It was because of Theo that Scott had turned his back on their friendship. Stiles' hatred for Theo grew, as his heart panged for the lost relationship.
Stiles focused back on his father, trying to push Theo Raiken from his mind. The boy didn't deserve his thoughts; especially when his father was lying on the bed, intubated and hanging on to life by a thread.
Stiles knew that members of the Sherriff's department were waiting outside the door, guarding the room and their leader, but he couldn't even consider letting them inside. He could hear them talking (the door wasn't providing a good sound barrier) about who was to take his father's place if he didn't make it.
His rage spiralled again, consuming him and making the roar of hatred and thoughts in his mind echo. Taking a steadying breath, Stiles released his father's hand, needing to get some fresh air. He needed to escape the repetitive noise of the ventilator. He needed to escape the judgemental voices of the deputies from outside, but most importantly he needed to escape the crippling guilt that this was his entire fault.
Stiles murmured to his father about where he was going, not knowing if his father could hear him, but knowing that he didn't want his father to feel alone. He strode out of the room, shoulders held back and his eyes locked on where he was going; he was trying to show the deputies that everything was fine, that his father was fine. As he walked down the corridor and rounded the corner, Stiles slumped against the wall, letting out a shuddering breath. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the mindful breathing his psychologist had taught him after his mother passed. It was supposed to ground him in the moment, but instead Stiles found himself more focussed on what was going on around him.
"Jane Doe, dropped in the ambulance bay around five minutes ago. Identifying features include short, red haired, green eyes and petite figure. Physical exam indicates three deep lateral punctures on the back of the neck, but otherwise seems well. Patient seems disoriented and could not answer questions around her identity; suspected diagnosis of post traumatic amnesia and to be admitted under the care of Doctor Lau."
Stiles head snapped up, his eyes scanning for the source of the voice. Puncture wounds on the back of the neck; that was a supernatural indicator, and the only short red-headed girl who knows about the supernatural is Lydia.
Stiles stood quickly, feeling more alert for the first time since walking in to the hospital. His rage fuelled again; someone had hurt Lydia. Either Scott had tried to invade her mind, and failed. Or Theo had violated her by attempting something that was purely intended to be an Alpha trait.
His head whipped around, trying to find which way they would've taken her, but instead he came face to face with Deputy Michaelson. "Stilinski, your father. We think he's woken up."
A slight moment of doubt crossed Stiles' mind; did he continue to search for Lydia, or did he go back for his father. The moment was slight however, because after all family came first.
A few days later, Stiles was still perched by his father's bed, except his time he was engaged in banter with his father.
"No Dad, I'm not going to sneak you in a burger. You almost died the other day, and I'm not going to facilitate that by giving you food that people say kills you" Stiles argued, taking a bite of the burger he'd bought in for his own dinner.
"Son, you can't just bring in food for yourself and leave me with this hospital sludge" Sherriff Stilinski prodded the food on his plate with his fork, a grim expression on his face. "Besides," he continued "It's not like I had a bloody heart attack from high cholesterol. I was slashed by a freaking werewolf."
"Chimera" Stiles corrected his mouth full of food. "Theo wasn't a true werewolf. He was an experiment too-"
The Sherriff grumbled something under his breath, and Stiles continued to focus on his food. In the five days that his Dad had been awake, they hadn't spoken much about Theo or the supernatural entities that exist in Beacon Hills, but they hadn't really had a need to. Scott hadn't come looking for him, Kira had disappeared, Liam was avoiding everyone, Malia was busy dealing with something- she hadn't told him what yet, and Lydia…
Lydia was a completely different issue for Stiles. Stiles knew exactly where Lydia was, Room 3A on Chalmers Ward, but there was nothing he could do for her. When Stiles had over-heard that Lydia had amnesia, he hadn't really expected it to be that bad. When Stiles had found time to go and visit the banshee, she hadn't recognised him at all. She didn't know his name, but further, she didn't know her own name.
She was a shell of the vivacious, proactive woman that she was. Her strawberry blonde hair hung limply by her shoulders, her green eyes gazed vacantly into space. Stiles was frozen with fear and uncertainty about what he was seeing. What had the world done to her? She was always so passionate and vibrant, and now…
Stiles' musings about Lydia were interrupted by a subtle cough from his father's side. "Son, what's wrong?"
Stiles swallowed deeply; having an internal debate with himself. Was his father strong enough to know what he'd missed? Would he care?
"I'm worried about Lydia." Stiles began, trying to weigh up how much to tell his father. Despite all his hijinks, his father and him had always had an honest relationship. Unless, as was the case with Donovan, he couldn't believe that his father would still love him because of his actions. "She's down the hall, and she must have hit her head or something because she has amnesia, and she doesn't remember anything."
"Well, is she hurt any other way?" the Sherriff asked, wincing as he tried to prop himself further up the bed.
"Not that I know of-"Stiles lamented, before he was interrupted.
"Well maybe it's a good thing. Maybe she will be able to forget this nonsense and have a normal life. Go to college, have a boyfriend, live her life." The Sherriff continued, and Stiles could hear the hope in his voice "After all, that's what I want for you."
Stiles let out a wry chuckle "You want me to have a boyfriend?"
He sobered quickly though, remembering that this was his friend they were talking about. Well, he wasn't entirely sure whether he could call them his friends anymore- after all, he hadn't heard from any of them in a week.
"You know that's not what I meant. Have you seen her yet? Or are you just relying on the whispers in the corridor?" his father asked, and Stiles downcast his eyes, trying to hide how right his father really was. Ever since that first time he'd visited, Stiles had stayed away, and had listened to the gossip of the doctors about Jane Doe.
"It just scares me Dad," Stiles began, his voice cracking slightly as he thought about his friend "I just don't want her to forget about Lydia. Because even if she remembers her family and her name, what's to say that she doesn't remember her sass, or her strength as a banshee or just the things that I love about her."
The Sherriff's eyes widened as Stiles mentioned the illustrious L-word. He'd always known the strong affection that his son had held for the brunette, but ever since Stiles had started dating Malia, he'd assumed that the feelings Stiles had for Lydia Martin had all but disappeared. The Sherriff thought that Malia was an amazing girl; strong, fierce, independent and he knew that the girl cared for his son. But, there would always be something between Stiles and Lydia. It was fate.
"Go see her son, I don't know what's happening with her parents, but she needs someone in her life that remembers her and cares for her. Especially if she can't even remember them."
Stiles stuttered out a rebuttal, trying to convince his father (and himself) that he needed to stay for his father. But the Sherriff wasn't having a bar of it. "Stiles, I'm fine. I just need to rest up a bit. Go and see your friend"
Stiles paused, before nodding slightly and standing up, and turning toward the door. "Thanks Dad."
He turned away without waiting for a response, and left the room, walking toward Lydia's room. He had heard the doctors and nurses talking about how much progress "Jane Doe" had made- and it wasn't good. But, when Stiles peered into the window of 3A he saw a completely different girl to the one he'd seen almost a week ago.
This girl's hair was glossy and shiny, her green eyes alive with energy. Her lips were covered in a shiny pearl gloss and were curled into a glorious smile. She was talking animatedly with one of the nurses, and Stiles couldn't help but fling the door open.
The door hit the wall with a bang, and both Lydia and the nurse turned to look at Stiles. Lydia's face curled up in forced concentration, and the nurse's face spread into a hesitant smile.
"Do you know this patient? Because we've been looking for her family for a while." He said, placing a hand reassuringly on Lydia's arm- and it worked. Lydia instantly relaxed against his touch, and Stiles couldn't help but feel a tad jealous.
"Um, no" Stiles stuttered "I'm not family."
It was now the nurse who looked at Stiles in concentration, where as Lydia began to relax, and Stiles felt a glimmer of hope that maybe she recognised him.
"Well then," the nurse began, "How do you know Ariel?"
And Stiles heart leapt into his throat as Lydia's face shone again as she smiled, "Oh, this is Stiles. I had a crush on him in the third grade."