A/N: This one's kind of filler, sorry. A necessary evil! but still, I hope you enjoy :)
PS- if you guys ever notice grammar errors, feel free to let me know! I don't always catch them.
"Tell it to me again," Scott said, rubbing his forehead as he paced.
As Lydia, standing next to Scott, launched robotically into her story, Stiles had to glance up at her from where he was sitting on the couch in the lake house living room, hands clasped with Kira's as he took her pain. It was the least he could do, since the accident was indirectly his fault. The deer that Lydia said had run in front of the truck had probably been spooked by him.
Him, running around trying to kill things.
He repressed an inward shudder, trying desperately not to think about it. He so did not need a panic attack right now.
"… and then both of the kids managed to run away at the same time that I got to Stiles and poisoned him with wolfsbane."
"What happened to the kids?" Allison inquired on Kira's other side, wiping blood away from a cut on the kitsune's face.
"They got away," Lydia said with a shrug. "Isaac's out looking for them right now to make sure they got home safely."
Stiles tried his best to swallow down his guilt. He'd hurt Scott- He'd seen him nursing his arm- an act that he would never forgive himself for, but there was more. He'd nearly killed Lydia's neighbours. He was about to do it, in fact- he had felt the instinct rising in him when he held that girl, a soulless instinct that he was horrified to find was familiar-
And then, somehow, he'd felt a dull blow in his chest and he'd been thrown like a ragdoll to the ground. At least, that was how he remembered it, but Lydia was firmly telling Scott that he had just been trying to resist the urge and had hesitated, allowing the girl to run away.
He had been in such a haze, he wouldn't be surprised if he just hallucinated, but… it didn't really feel like what had happened.
But then again, why would Lydia lie about it?
He cleared his throat and Lydia looked at him, her face a mask of indifference that had set into place not long after she'd found him. "What?"
He wasn't buying it. "So how did I get out in the first place?"
She spoke in near monotone. "Kalku was there."
"What?" He immediately sat up, letting go of Kira's hands and focusing his attention on Lydia, at high alert. "What do you mean, Kalku was there? As in Morgan Lefebvre?"
"I don't know," Lydia snapped, her eyes sliding away from him again to stare at the floor. "She showed up as Kalku, didn't she? She freed you."
So that was what that creepy voice had been. Everything was slowly clicking into place. No wonder it had been terrifyingly familiar to him. "Why-"
"Lydia," Scott interrupted carefully, "how did you know that she did this when you weren't even there?"
Lydia's face wavered, a mess of conflicted emotions briefly crossing her face before finally settling on resignation.
"She went to me first."
This was news to everyone, if the slight intakes of breath were any indication.
"What did she do? Did she threaten you?" Stiles said sharply.
A brief pause. "Yes," she replied, tone inscrutable.
Stiles was halfway off the couch before Lydia put her hands up and said sternly, "She didn't hurt me. I'm fine. We've already been over this."
"Yeah, well, you lied the first time," Stiles muttered, but decided to take her for her word and sat slowly back down into the cushions, taking Kira's hand again. There wasn't much pain to take at this point, with Kira's fast healing rate.
"What did she want?" Scott asked with concern.
Lydia hugged herself with her arms, staring off into space when she answered. "The same. My help to harness the Nemeton. I said no."
"And?" Scott prompted.
"So she set Stiles loose."
It was quiet as everyone let those words sink in.
Stiles bit his lip. Kalku was a fucking menace in this universe too. All she wanted was the Nemeton, it appeared, and that she'd do anything to get it.
And threatening Lydia was how she'd decided to go about it. And then trying to hurt her- through him.
Stiles hated not being in control, a trait that he'd picked up from the good ol' Nogitsune days. And this? This was the most epic loss of control. He felt like the wound had been ripped open all over again.
He was going to tear this witch apart for doing that to him and for doing that to Lydia.
He was almost unsurprised by the unexpectedly savage thought that flitted through his head, no doubt full-moon induced. Or maybe it wasn't. The sun had risen over the horizon more than three hours ago.
Maybe he was really just that psychotic.
Involuntarily, his gaze flickered to Allison on Kira's other side, the woman's dark head bent as she wiped at the deep cut on Kira's arm. The wedding ring on that hand catching the light and winking, mockingly, at Stiles.
He felt more certain than ever that somehow- it was his fault, what happened to Allison in his universe. And he honestly didn't know how he was going to be able to live with himself knowing that.
As if feeling his eyes on her, Allison glanced up and at Stiles; when she saw him looking, she gave him a slight smile, the action deepening the dimples on her cheeks.
Stiles couldn't find the energy to muster one up in return, and instead lowered his gaze.
Kira, meanwhile, gently pried her hand from his. "Stiles, I'm fine now. Thank you." Her voice was sincere.
Stiles coughed. He felt, maybe irrationally, like everyone was looking at him. With unease. He didn't blame them. "Yeah. Um. Of course." He suddenly felt like he couldn't sit on this couch for a moment longer and made to stand up.
At that same moment, to his relief (before he had to make up some lame excuse to get the hell out and keep the attention off of him), the front door opened and closed, and a moment later, Isaac walked in.
"Did you find her?" Lydia said, alert now. Stiles fell back into the couch pillows with a sigh.
Isaac scratched his curly-haired head, looking vaguely puzzled. "Yeah, her brother and her were almost at home when I found them," he replied. "And they seemed perfectly happy. Like they didn't remember anything at all."
Stiles was sure he imagined the brief look of approval that crossed Lydia's face.
"That's… weird," Scott muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"Maybe the memory has been repressed?" Allison offered, with a frown on her pretty face as she considered the information. "That kind of thing can be pretty traumatic for a child. Maybe it's for the best."
Stiles felt a fresh wave of guilt seep over him at her compassion-filled words. Actually every time she spoke it felt like a stab to his own gut, which was funny since it was Allison that…
He squashed the thought down firmly before it could get anywhere. His sense of humor was fucked up and he needed therapy, what else was new.
"Personally, I'm more concerned about what this Kalku is going to do next," Isaac mused.
Scott nodded. "We need to be on guard until we figure out what her plan is. No one in the pack goes anywhere alone if we can help it from now on."
Stiles thought about making a crack about going to the bathroom but decided against it. And they said he hadn't grown up at all.
Lydia diverted his thoughts when she spoke, "She's dangerous. Do not underestimate her," she enunciated. Her tone was… he couldn't really describe it, but it was off. Stiles looked at her curiously, but she refused to catch his gaze.
A cell phone rang.
Stiles jumped about a foot into the air when it did, because it came from his own jeans pocket and he'd been so focused on Lydia in the moment. "Oh, my fucking god," he complained, one hand over his furiously pounding heart. He was way too high strung right now. Allison giggled at his tone.
He fished the phone out of his pocket with difficulty, aware everyone was watching as he squirmed to get it out without actually standing up. Lydia watched the spectacle with raised eyebrows but he saw a smile tugging at the corners of her lips anyway.
Bolstered, he looked at the caller ID with a somewhat lighter outlook before it turned to confusion. "Who the fuck is this?"
Kira grabbed the phone from him. "It says 'Dorothy'," she read. It didn't ring any bells with Stiles. This wasn't someone he was familiar with from his universe. From the way Lydia was pursing her lips, he could tell she was on the same page (for once).
Allison stiffened. "Oh, no," she said, at the same time Scott muttered, "Ah, shit."
Stiles' eyebrows flew up. "Scotty, I don't like it when you swear, it makes me feel like bad things are going to happen," he said. "Just spit it out."
"That's the party planner," Allison hissed, directing her words at Lydia.
"The party planner?" Stiles repeated blankly.
"The engagement party planner," Allison said. Meanwhile, the phone continued to ring incessantly. "The engagement party for you and Lydia. I completely forgot, it's tonight."
There was a long pause, and Stiles did not dare to look at Lydia.
Engagment. Fucking. Party. In the midst of all the craziness, he'd almost forgotten that they were engaged here. Engaged to be married. Stiles, to Lydia Martin. The notion was ridiculous. It was also literally his dreams come true.
But he heard her sputtering; he could sense her immediate discomfort, and that was all it took for him to resolve to make sure this did not happen.
"Well, are you going to answer it?" Isaac said finally. "Wasn't our Stiles saying she was a bit of a hardass and gets really ticked off if you don't answer her calls?"
Great. Like they needed more hardasses in their lives. Stiles grabbed the phone back, bouncing it nervously in the palm of his hand. "What should I say? What shou-"
"Just say you're cancelling-" Allison tried; Stiles, now panicked, press the call button.
Everyone fell silent immediately as Stiles answered. "Ah, ahem. Hello?"
The voice on the line was clearly irritated. "Ah, thank you for finally picking up, Mr. Stilinski. I'm sorry that answering my calls is so low on your priority list on the day of your engagement party."
Stiles winced at the scathing tone. "Ah. Right." He was sort of very glad she wasn't on speaker. At this exact moment, Allison chose to mouth at him to put it on speaker. He looked at the ceiling like he hadn't heard.
"Um, so-"
He was interrupted. "I only called to confirm that we're decorating the rooftop with lights? That's what Ms. Martin wanted, is it not?"
"Oh, was it?" he said unthinkingly, filing that information away like an idiot before snapping back to his senses. "Um, rooftop?" He squawked, barely able to register this.
The voice on the other end was very impatient. "Yes, the rooftop restaurant that you and your fiancee, bless her soul for taking pity on you, chose for the party."
"Riiiiight," he said, the word long and drawn out. "Right. About that. We've, ah, we've decided actually that we have to canc-"
"No," Lydia said suddenly. For a stupid moment, Stiles thought she meant that she wanted to marry him. Then she spoke again, and he jerked his head to look at her with his hand over the receiver. Her face was blank, but it wasn't carefully blank as it had been before. It was truly, truly… blank.
Ah.
"Don't cancel it," she said, and her voice had a dreamlike quality to it. "We're going."
Scott glanced at Stiles with a helpless look. In fact, everyone was looking at Stiles. It was his move, apparently.
He licked his lips. "You sure, Lyds?" His voice was pathetically hopeful sounding, even to him.
She didn't answer, but stared him down solemnly with wide green eyes.
"Of course," Stiles muttered, and turned his face back to the phone hastily, where he could still hear the tinny voice in the speaker shouting at him.
He cleared his throat, now speaking loudly over the woman's yelling. "Ah, never mind! Yes, the lights are a go. Lydia loves lights. All the lights, light it up like a Christmas tree," he prattled off, and maybe he was babbling but he was flustered, okay, so let him live.
She was silent for a moment before speaking, and when she did it sounded rather deadly. "I expect to see you both here at four o'clock sharp," the woman hissed. "The event doesn't start until five but we need to make sure everything is in order. And do not wear any hideous plaid like you did the last two times we met."
Stiles swallowed. "Yes ma'am."
"My name is Dorothy." Then, with that, she hung up abruptly. Stiles sat frozen with the phone in his hand for a good five seconds before finally lowering it from his ear.
Then Scott chortled. "Smooth."
Stiles threw the phone onto the coffee table, ignoring his friend's jibe before standing up and approaching Lydia. She still stood where she had been before, but she was unnaturally still, eyes glazed and expression void.
"Lydia?" he asked carefully.
She blinked, and suddenly she was there again, eyes keening with intelligence and life. "What?"
He let out a breath, letting his hand fall to his side. "We lost you for a few seconds there."
She merely blinked. "You did? What happened?"
"You said not to cancel the party. Apparently we're going." Stiles felt like a piece of shit at the brief panicked look that flitted across her face. "Banshee thing, I guess."
She took that admirably, with only a swallow, but her voice betrayed her. "Who's going to be there?" Lydia asked to the room in an unnaturally high voice, crossing her arms over her front and looking anxious.
There was a beat where no one responded. "Everyone," Allison responded finally.
Stiles chanced a look at Lydia; she was looking a little green. "Define 'everyone'," he said, trying to help her out.
Allison shrugged helplessly. "Like, everyone? Everyone you two know who's in town?" She shrugged helplessly at Stiles' speechlessness. "I'm sorry. Lydia really wanted to go all out." Stiles looked at Lydia, who honestly looked like Christmas had been cancelled, and then up at the ceiling to idly wonder which of the many shitty things he'd done had karma'd him into this ironic situation.
Everyone was silent for a few moments. Then Scott yawned. "We should head back to town and figure this out."
There were murmurs of agreement. Stiles didn't say anything, just watched Lydia as the group filtered out.
Lydia made to turn around and leave with Allison, too, but Stiles finally opened his mouth.
"Hey, Lydia, wait, can I talk to you for a sec?"
She turned around, eyebrows raised and trademark defensive Lydia Martin pose in place. "Yes, what?" Allison looked between the two of them, and the charged silence that followed, and muttered something about being in the next room before she made a hasty exit.
Stiles didn't waste time while they were alone. "I could tell you were lying back there," He said, watching her reactions carefully as he spoke. "About what happened with everything. There's something you're not saying. You can tell me, you know that, right?"
A beat.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Her tone was perfectly blasé.
He half-laughed at her attempt at neutrality. "That's bull." He made sure his voice rang with surety, and Lydia seemed to struggle with herself for several moments before speaking.
"If you don't like it then don't listen to my heartbeat," She finally hissed, and turned away, curls flouncing.
Stiles caught her elbow before she could take a step; she didn't twist her head to look at him but she froze when he spoke. "I wasn't." Because it honestly hadn't even occurred to him.
She didn't move so he kept going, gently now. "I know you, Lydia. I've never needed special powers for that. So whatever it is you think you can't tell me, I hope you come to your senses real quick."
That seemed to move her back into action, "Maybe you should come to your senses," she said haughtily, giving his hand on her arm a very pointed look. Before he could register this rather low blow at his crush, she was shaking it off and flouncing in the direction of Allison.
"Hey! This conversation isn't over," he called feebly. She didn't respond, or maybe she didn't hear. He kind of stood there a minute, trying to figure out when everything had gotten so fucked up- the moment of his birth, he concluded finally-, when Scott came up behind him and clapped his hands on his shoulders. "Give it a rest," he advised. "The you from this universe didn't get Lydia by running after her all the time."
Stiles dragged a hand over his face. Apparently his other self was a miracle worker. "How did I get Lydia?"
Scott was ready with an answer. "You didn't," He replied promptly. "You guys got each other. And isn't that better?"
Stiles had no response. He was so unbelievably jealous of himself.
A/N: heheh FLUFF is on the horizon... along with... other things...
Comments are very much appreciated and feed my muse. And my muse is, one might say... insatiable ;)