The first rays of morning light were peaking through the windows of Lydia's room. It was the first time in weeks that she woke up on her own, rather than being pulled out of bed by her mother. She stifled a yawn and rolled over, coming face to face with Derek Hale. Her first instinct was to scream. Why was here here how did she get here what happened all she remembered was school how did she end up in bed with this man and in completely different clothes, the questions were racing through her mind, exploding in her mind, but everything stopped as she watched him move closer to her, burying his head on her chest. His entire body was fidgeting. He's having a nightmare, she frowned, tracing her finger across his lips. She ran her hand through his hair, saying his name quietly. After a minute or two, he stilled. She couldn't help but smile, feeling victorious. She let her eyes fall on his face again. She was overwhelmed with the scent of him, like firewood and fresh rain. Despite the strangeness of the morning and the lost memory of yesterday, she felt completely comfortable and safe. She felt the tug of sleep at her eyelids and decided to worry about the missing pieces when she woke up again. She pulled the covers closer to her and to the man quietly snoring next to her and closed her eyes, smiling as her world went dark.

The second time she awoke, she was alone. She sat up, disappointment plaguing her. She glanced around the room for any sign that she didn't dream the whole encounter. Even the black leather jacket was gone. She glanced at the window. It was open, just a crack. She smiled to herself, relief flooding through her. "So I'm not crazy" she said aloud, rising from her bed and striding towards the window, shutting away the cold afternoon air.

"Not completely" a voice snickered. Her eyes widened, her head snapped towards the sound, giving her whiplash. She was completely alone, her room empty.

"Hello?" Lydia called, a warning in her voice.

Nothing. She sighed, feeling stupid. She walked towards her bathroom, figuring that a hot shower would clear her mind. She realized, as she saw the streaks of mud running from the walls all the way to the door, that it wasn't going to be that simple.

xx

Scott unlocked the door to Deaton's office, letting Derek and Isaac in before he followed. There was something off about Derek, Scott could sense it; he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Where's the vet?" Derek barked, snapping Scott back into reality. "Is he going to help us or not?"

"That depends" Deaton said, appearing from the around the corner. "your friend Jackson - are you planning to save him, or kill him?"

"Kill him."

"Save him."

Derek and Scott looked at each other, irritation visible in both their faces.

"Save him" Scott said once more, a finality in his voice. As Deaton began shifting through the chemicals on his shelf, Scott finally recognized the scent radiating off Derek.

"Why do you smell like that" Scott hissed.

Derek glanced towards him, his face distorted in confusion. "Like what?"

"Like her, like Lydia" Scott said, lowering his voice. "What did you do to her? I trusted you."

"I didn't do anything. I don't owe you an explanation." Derek growled.

"There is a way to stop Jackson" Deaton explained, breaking the silent tension between the two. "But first you must stop the one controlling him."

After Deaton explained the plan of trapping Jackson and whoever was controlling him, Scott had left to drive Isaac home, leaving Derek and Deaton alone.

"Usually it's the pack that finds her first. But it appears it's the other way around." Deaton smiled cryptically. Derek went to speak but Deaton held up a finger and shook his head.

"Don't worry. All in due time. Keep doing what you've been doing. Watch over her. Keep her safe. The pieces will fall together soon."

xx

It was the night of the rave and Lydia could hardly contain her excitement. Allison may be going with some random kid named Matt and Scott and Stiles may be going together, but why would she have to miss out on something just because she has to go alone? She pulled on the tightest skirt she could find (a black leather miniskirt she had received on her 16th birthday) and a silver halter top and black kitten heels. Her make up was to perfection and her hair was a pile of strawberry curls. She wanted to let go for the night and not worry about the events of the past few weeks. And she planned on doing just that.

She was walking up a back alley to the warehouse entrance where the rave was being held when a sudden force had pushed her up against the wall. She was about to scream when she noticed the person behind the force.

"Derek, what the hell are you doing?!" She complained, watching as he slowly pulled away from her

"What are you doing here? You can't go to the rave." He demanded, answering her question with his own.

She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Right, okay mom, whatever you say." She went to walk past him but he blocked her again. She could feel the frustration rising.

"You've got a lot of nerve, Derek. Leaving without explanation and then expecting me to do whatever you command? What's next, rollover, play dead?" Lydia saw his face soften.

"Look, I'm sorry. I know I need to explain that night. But you have to trust me on this, you can't go to the rave. I don't care if I have to throw you over my shoulder and take you away, you mean too much to me." He was pleading with her, his eyes begging her to cave.

She sighed. She never backed down with anyone, yet here she was, letting him win. What's so different with him? she asked herself.

"I took a cab here.." she trailed off as she saw his eyes light up and a smile spread across his lips. He grabbed her hand and started walking the opposite way.

Once she was safely in the black Camaro, he explained that he would take her home but he had to handle something first. She needed to stay in the car, be safe, keep the doors locked, etcetera etcetera. He sounded like her father. Well, what she imagined he would sound like. The only interaction she ever got with him was when she achieved something. He would simply tell her it wasn't good enough.

She refocused her attention when Derek lifted her chin with his finger. He held her gaze before submitting and looking down. "Thank you" he whispered, before exiting the car. She sighed, chastising herself for being talked into doing exactly what Derek Hale wanted.

It wasn't until she saw him approaching the car thirty minutes later with Scott in his arms that she realized he was right. She unlocked her door and jumped out, fear crawling down her spine.

"Is he okay?" She shrieked.

"Get back in the car!" He ordered, avoiding her questions yet again. She was, of course, obedient. A minute later and he was at the car, guiding Scott into the backseat of his car before jumping into the drivers seat and jamming the car into ignition. Lydia buckled her seatbelt as he peeled out of the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" She asked after a minute. He was doing at least 70 miles per hour, with a bleeding Scott in the backseat. He owed her an explanation now, at least for this situation.

"The only place that can save him." Derek mumbled, taking a sharp left onto a side street. Three minutes and twenty eight seconds later and they were in a parking lot for a veterinarian's office.

A man was already at the door, opening it for Derek to come through with Scott in his hands.

"Ah, so nice to finally meet you Lydia." The man smiled at her. She looked at him quizzically.

"Do I know-" she started, before he answered "no, you don't know me. Yet, at least. My name is Deaton. We'll talk later" he assured her, winking, before turning to Derek. "Set him down on the table. You got him here just in time."

As Deaton worked on Scott, Lydia sat in the chair next to Derek. He looked so sad.

"Hey" Lydia said, getting his attention. He looked at her, his eyes dull. "Whatever happened to Scott, it's not your fault, you know? If anything, you should be proud of yourself. You're the reason he's going to be okay. You saved him." She gave him a small smile as he nodded slowly. She grabbed his hand and held it, trying her best to soothe him.

They were both oblivious to Deaton smiling as he slowly worked on Scott. Like a natural, he thought.

xx

After the two had left with Scott, who was making a fast recovery, Deaton had wandered to the waiting room. He saw his sister propped in one of the chairs, tapping her foot impatiently.

"She doesn't know, does she?" She asked.

"Not yet" Deaton smiled.

"She'll need to be trained." She spoke, standing up.

"She's a natural. One of the best I've seen yet." Deaton reassured her.

She approached him slowly. "As good as you, brother dearest?"

Deaton didn't hesitate to answer. "Better."