"I killed him, didn't I?"
Lydia's voice echoed through the small room. She was sitting on the end of the examination table while Deaton cleaned and dressed the hole in the side of her head as best he could without disturbing the mistletoe poultice that was currently the only thing between her and literal screaming insanity and death.
Scott frowned in confusion as he handed Deaton a swab.
"What-?" Lydia's mom began from her place by the door.
"Yeah." Stiles interrupted.
Lydia nodded slowly.
"It was self-defence, Lydia." Stiles informed her solemnly, "I'd tell you not to blame yourself, but I know how little those words helped me."
"I don't blame myself." Lydia replied without hesitation. "That doesn't mean I won't have nightmares for the rest of my life about what the inside of his head looked like, but I don't feel guilty."
She raised her eyes to look at Stiles, ignoring the sounds of shock coming from her mother.
"He knew more than anyone about what my voice could do and he drilled a hole in my head to amplify my power. He made his own choices. And so did Donovan."
Stiles glanced at Scott, not surprised that Lydia knew. He'd heard her telling Valack about things she definitely hadn't been around to witness first hand. Scott raised is eyebrows in question but remained silent.
"Donovan didn't choose to be made into a monster." Stiles replied, looking back at Lydia.
"He just chose to eat you." Her answer was swift.
Stiles shook his head as Deaton placed a hand on Lydia's shoulder to let her know he'd finished. Deaton diplomatically left the room while Scott stepped back as if he could fade into the shadows and Ms Martin made no effort to give the pair space.
"It's not…" Stiles shook his head again, unable to find the words that would explain this.
"Stiles," Lydia took his hand as she slid carefully off of the table, "I live my whole life expecting you to die."
Stiles' eyebrows shot up and he noticed Scott stiffen in shock.
"Is that the banshee speaking?" He asked apprehensively.
"No," She replied, "It's the smartest person you know speaking. I have seen you step into a pool of gasoline to reach for a lit road flare; drown in a tub of ice water under my hands; hold a katana to your own stomach. And now, after what Valack did, I've heard more. I've heard you bargaining with Peter on the lacrosse field. I've heard you dragging the Nogitsune out to the coyote den on the coldest night of the year. I've heard you asking a man pointing a gun at your head if he thought he could scare you. It's simple statistics, Stiles. One of these days, when you offer up your life to save others, someone is going to take it. And that terrifies me."
Lydia rested her hand on his arm as she continued, "I don't want to be the one left standing at your funeral, Stiles. So if you're looking for someone to debate the legality and morality of self-defence I am not that person. Maybe it makes me selfish, or inconsiderate, or unethical, but I'm glad you killed him. And I will always be the one telling you to do whatever it takes to save yourself. Because, besides the fact that I would literally be dead right now if it weren't for you, I couldn't face all of this without you"
Lydia leaned forward to give Stiles a hug while Scott stepped forward.
"She's right," Scott confirmed, "We need you. We all do. I know I'd have been dead a long time ago without you."
Stiles gave Scott a small smile over Lydia's head and held out his arm for Scott to join the hug. It didn't make everything better. It didn't make him feel like what happened with Donovan was okay. But it did make him feel like someday, with help from the people who loved him, maybe he could actually forgive himself. And for now that hope, and friends who didn't blame him, was enough.
. . . .
Natalie stared at the three teenagers embracing in the middle of the room. They held each other like they were the only solid thing in the world, like they were family. The words that had been exchanged rattled through her head making her wonder just what her daughter had been involved in while she kept convincing herself that everything was normal. And she couldn't stop herself from thinking that these two boys had been a better family to Lydia than she had. But, because of them, Lydia was still alive, which meant that there was still time to make up for her mistakes.