Stiles and Lydia were waiting for Scott, Isaac and Allison to come back from their trip to get a few bags of ice, ironically enough in the waiting room. Stiles had already decided on the token he'd need and was just staring into space, the pounded out badge tumbling nervously between his nimble fingers.

Lydia huffed beside him, eyes locked on the occasional flash of reflected light on the badge, but didn't say anything.

"So, my Mom got sick when I was almost nine, right," Stiles started, Lydia's eyes on his face now instead of his hands. "and I spent a lot of time in her room at the hospital. I mean I ate hospital food and I did my homework on her tray table sitting in the crappy visitor's chair. Pretty much everyday my Dad would spend the afternoon with her and then would pick me up after school and drop me off before he went to work. His last words as he let me out of the car were always 'Be good and take care of Mom while I'm at work', and I tried, but she just kept getting sicker and sicker. I wasn't any help. I was just another weight pulling her down; some hyperactive spaz of a son who only caused her more worry, more stress."

Lydia slips one hand into his and squeezes.

"She died one night while he was working, and I knew she wanted to hold on just a little longer, wanted her last moments to be with him, but instead she was stuck with me, so she did the only thing she could; she lay there dying and the last thing she ever said to me, was to ask me to take care of Dad."

Lydia pulled him close and wrapped her arm around him, while still holding one hand. Her eyes teared up as he continued. "And I tried, I swear I did. I mean he drank more and more, because I was too much for him to handle by himself, right, but I learned how to cook and I tried to stay out of trouble, but my meds weren't exactly right and I was still all over the place. Plus those six months or so where me and Scott were trying to goad his dad into showing the rest of the town what a total dick he was, but we had to. We just had to."

He was glaring into the distance and grinding his teeth for a moment before he jerked back to looking at her. "Eventually I got better at things though, you know? He slowed down on drinking, and McAsshole left town 'for work'." He made air quotes at that before wiping his eyes. "Things just sort of fell into place and it was good, until all this crazy werewolf shit started. I brought us all into this. I drug Scott out to get bit and I brought the supernatural into our home, literally at times. I managed to put him in danger, stress him out unforgivably, even got him fired and now, now I stood outside that door and let that crazy bitch take him without being able to do anything to help."

He was crying now and Lydia just held him. "I just... I didn't keep my promise to him and she died. Now I can't keep my promise to her. I can't just let him die, Lydia. I can't."

She looked at him then, waiting until he met her eye, and spoke with conviction. "Then we won't."

After a moment of looking at her silently, he wiped his face and sat up a little straighter, then nodded.