"Moving in the Dark"

Lucawindmover

Chapter Thirteen

"Lost and Found"

"If you never want to feel anything that ever seems too real, then you never feel."

General Ghost "If Only"

Stiles didn't want this moment to end. He wasn't sure when they'd managed to stand up from the asphalt but he didn't care. He just knew if this moment ended, Lydia would surely shrug the whole thing off as the answer to another panic attack and claim to still be tied down to Aiden. He couldn't handle that right now. He couldn't handle her rejection. It didn't matter that she seemed to kiss him as fervently as he'd kissed her. Somehow, this would still end in rejection and he wanted to hold that off as long as he could. So he didn't open his eyes. He didn't want to see her change her mind. His eyes were closed, his forehead resting upon hers, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on her cheeks as he waited, with breath held, for her to break the moment.

But she didn't. She didn't move either. Her hands still clenched his shirt at the back of his neck, her arms trembling as if she was cold. Actually, her whole body was trembling and it was this fact that made Stiles finally pull back and look at her.

"Lydia," he said softly, his hands still on her cheeks.

She opened her eyes slowly but didn't meet his. She was staring steadily straight ahead at his chest, eyes fixed to some invisible dot he couldn't see. "Yes Stiles?"

"We're doing it again," he said, dipping down in order to make eye contact with her.

She laughed breathlessly. "Yeah. Yeah we are."

Stiles reached back behind his head and grabbed her hands, bringing them around and holding them between their bodies. "Aren't you worried about it? You know, Aiden or whatever?"

She frowned. "What?"

"Your boyfriend?" Stiles asked with a shrug.

Lydia shook her head. "Aiden's not my boyfriend. I ended…things…with him."

Stiles opened his mouth and then closed it. And then opened it again. "Really? Why?"

All at once it was as if Lydia came back to herself. Some of the fire he was used to seeing rose in her cheeks and she pulled her hands out of his grasp. "I'm pretty sure I don't need to justify my relationship decisions to anyone but myself."

Stiles put his hands up, signaling he didn't want an argument. And he really didn't. The last time they'd had this discussion, their friendship had taken a hit for it. He didn't want anything to mess with their friendship and he'd be willing to put romantic thoughts and feelings on the back burner if needed. He didn't want to be that pushy guy.

Lydia deflated a little, still shivering. "But if you really want to know, it was you."

Stiles was in the middle of rubbing his hands over his face when he caught her words. "What? What was me?"

She sighed and turned away from him. "The why. The reason why. I dumbed Aiden, I guess, because of you."

Stiles was dumbfounded. There was no way he was hearing her right. There had to be another explanation.

"Um, well," Stiles said, scratching the back of his neck. "I honestly have no idea what that means."

Lydia sighed and turned back toward him. She reached up and grabbed his face with both of her hands, pulling him down to her height. She brought his face close to hers, her bright eyes brimming with tears. "Do I really have to spell out everything for you, Stilinski?"

And with that said, she gently pressed her lips to his and Stiles had his answer.

The other kisses they'd shared had been frantic, life-saving measures, full of desperation and urgency. This kiss was the one he'd always hoped for, slow and deliberate. This was the kiss he would remember as their first, the one they could completely devote to one another. That small detail meant everything to him as his heart leapt into his throat.

Stiles pulled her closer, kissing her deeply as one arm wrapped around her tiny waist, his other hand cupping the back of her head. He could feel her lean into him, her petite frame needing support as the trembling started again. Her hands gripped his shoulders as her tongue danced with his, as intent on exploring him as he was exploring her.

He had no idea how long this went on. Time ceased to exist for them, there in the back alley of the animal clinic.

Animal clinic. Allison. His mother.

All at once, he knew they had to stop. He had to find out what Allison knew, what Deaton knew. He had to know if he'd really seen his mother and what that answer would mean for him. As much as he would like to spend the rest of his time on earth kissing Lydia Martin, he knew it wasn't an option.

Stiles broke the kiss reluctantly, wrapping both arms around Lydia and pulling her to his chest. She hugged him in return, her arms squeezing him tightly as if she was afraid he'd melt away.

"We should, you know, continue this sometime," Stiles said warmly. "Sometime when I don't have to get answers about my vision and whatnot."

"A little presumptuous, don't you think?" she said, muffled by his shirt.

He shook his head. "Okay, one minute you're complaining that you have to spell stuff out for me and the next you're complaining because I jumped to my own conclusions. Continuity, Lydia. You need some."

Lydia laughed and broke the embrace, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the back door. "Okay, I guess I walked into that one."

"Yeah you did," Stiles replied with a smirk.

She stopped at the door, her hand on the knob. "Are you ready for this?" she asked with genuine concern.

Stiles nodded and she pulled the door open. In truth, he couldn't be less ready to face the answers he hoped to get. He couldn't be less ready to face his friends, all of whom now knew he'd been visited by the spirit of his mother while he was unconscious. His mother was a person he kept close to him. He didn't share her. He didn't share his memories of her, his feelings for her, the hole in his chest from her absence. There was a reason he hadn't told all of his friends about what he'd seen. He wasn't ready. But he couldn't afford to not be ready. Not anymore.

Cora met them in the hallway on the way back to the exam room. She caught Stiles' eye over Lydia's head and gave him a wink. Normally, he'd have sent her back a grin or give her a thumbs up or something. Cora knew how long he'd been waiting for reciprocal affection from Lydia. But right now, he was too busy dreading facing his friends to respond in any sort of way.

Scott, Allison, and Isaac were all sitting on one of the metal tables now, Allison wedged between the wolves as if they were going to protect her from the nightmares. Stiles saw Cora tense up and move across the room, planting herself against the far wall with her arms crossed.

"Stiles, are you okay?" Allison asked, looking up as they entered. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

He waved her off. He'd had enough sympathy over the years. He didn't want any more of it now. It was something he could handle from Lydia but not something he wanted from anyone else right now.

"It's okay, really," he said. He put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the other exam table. "Anyway, did we figure out what's going on yet?"

At this Deaton strode forward, his hands clasped behind his back. "I have an idea. But I don't think you're going to like it."

"We wouldn't have come to you if we wanted answers that we liked," Isaac quipped. Scott shot him a confused glance and he shrugged. "What? Seriously. The guy never gives us good answers. I know I'm not the only one who's noticed that, right?"

Deaton ignored him and continued. "When the three of you went under, you crossed into the realm of the dead. I believe that both Stiles and Allison were touched by the dead while they were beyond the veil."

"What does that even mean though?" Stiles asked. "Touched by the dead?"

"It means," Deaton said. "That you were approached on the other side by your mother with a mission you couldn't bring back with you to this side because it wasn't your primary goal for crossing."

Stiles pursed his lips and nodded. Deaton turned his attention to Allison. "And I believe it means your late aunt attached her essence to you on the other side, hitching a ride back to the land of the living."

Allison's face hardened. "You mean to tell me I brought my aunt back from the dead?"

"Oh no, of course not," Deaton replied. "Only that a part of her spirit, the part that must have had unfinished business with you, crossed back over. She won't have a physical form so she is terrorizing you through dreams and hallucinations instead."

"Uh, doc," Stiles said. "This is all great or whatever. The information. But the big question is what do we do about it? How do we undo it? Or well, for me, redo it, I guess? I mean, I have to know what that message was. It's going to drive me crazy, not knowing. And not like, anxiety crazy. I mean lock-me-in-the-loony-bin crazy. It's a miracle I can still function right now."

"And I can't keep having dreams like that," Allison chimed in. "I can't. I can't keep waking up and wondering if I'm actually awake. It's horrible. I just, I need to know what's real and what isn't."

Deaton frowned and clasped his hands in front of him. "It'll be dangerous. I'm not sure I want to do it again."

"Again?" Scott asked. "Do you mean they have to go back across the veil?"

Deaton nodded and turned toward Stiles. "Once was risky enough and it opened you up to this darkness, to your dead loved ones. Twice? Well, it's very likely you wouldn't survive a second trip."

"But what if they don't do it?" Isaac asked. "I mean, can they live normal lives without trying this again?"

Deaton shrugged. "I don't know. They could both lose their minds. That's the risk they take by not going back under."

Stiles reached up and grabbed his hair with both hands. "So we either risk death to undo what we did to ourselves when we died the first time. Or we risk madness by not risking death," he said. "Well that's just great. It's not really a choice at all, is it?"

Deaton shook his head. "There is always a choice. But it won't be an easy one. And it isn't one that you need to make right now. I suggest you both take some time to think about it. Because once you've made that decision, there will be no going back."

Stiles was sure his decision was made. He felt Lydia move closer to him but he didn't dare look down at her. She would try to change his mind. She would try to convince him she could keep him from going crazy. She wouldn't want him to risk his life for these answer, right?

He didn't know and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

Allison was quiet. She spent a lot of time being quiet these days, pensive and thoughtful, measuring her words. Bu this seemed different. There was a tense quality to this silence Isaac didn't like.

The ride to her apartment from the animal clinic had been fraught with the same tension. Stiles, who had offered them a ride, tried to joke and change the subject. But even his usual humor did nothing to take their minds off the fact that two of their number might have to die a second time.

And quite possibly a final time, if Deaton's warnings held true.

Isaac walked her to the door and stood awkwardly, not sure what to say to her. He didn't want her to do it. He didn't want to let her tempt death another time. It had been hard enough the first time, holding her under the water until she'd drowned. He wasn't sure he could do it a second time. But the effect these dreams were having on her was real. They would break her down, eventually, and he could see that. So he knew he shouldn't try to talk her out of crossing back over the veil but that didn't mean he didn't want to try.

"Hey," she said, pushing her front door open. "I don't mean t sound like a broken record here but could you, you know, stay?" For a little while? I mean, I'm really tired and I want to sleep but I…god. Does it make me sound like a child to say I'm scared? To go to sleep?"

Isaac followed her in, closing the door and locking it behind him. "Yeah, I'll stay," he answered, trailing behind her as she made her way to her bedroom. "And no, it does not make you a child for being afraid. It makes you normal."

Allison laughed and shot him an incredulous look as she shucked the hoodie she had been wearing. She tossed it in the chair in the corner of her bedroom before sinking onto the edge of her bed. "Normal? Me?"

Isaac shrugged and kicked off his shoes. He flopped down on her bed lengthwise in his usual studying place. "I'm sorry, but anyone who had just been told their dead aunt is haunting them through their dreams should absolutely be freaked out," he said with a smirk. "So yea, that makes you completely normal."

Allison rolled her eyes and groaned, throwing herself back into her pillows. "God, our lives are so weird. I mean, seriously think about it. It's nus, right? Werewolves and ghosts and death rituals and druids and banshees…and whatever the hell else is out there. How did it come to this? I mean, it feels like it happened overnight, you know? Like it was just a week ago I was worried about what to wear to a stupid dance. That was over a year ago. Where'd the time go?"

"I don't know," Isaac answered, rolling on his side to face her. "A year ago I was a gravedigger when I wasn't at school. So I'm not sure I was ever actually normal."

Allison sat up on her elbows, meeting his gaze. "You know, I'd totally forgotten that you used to do that."

He shrugged. Those weren't days he liked to remember. Even though their lives had become very complicated as of late, Isaac was still grateful to be a werewolf. It didn't matter to him that they seemed to battle the threat of death on nearly a daily basis. He was thankful to have friends and family to battle with. His life before, the boy he had been before, was gone and more or less just a painful memory now.

"I guess I don't like to talk about those days," he said quietly.

Allison regarded him for a few moments. Instead of leaning back into the pillows, as Isaac expected, she sat forward and changed positions, moving over to lay next to him across her bed instead. There was still a good foot of space between them but this was the closest he'd ever been to her in her bed and he could feel his heart racing.

She laid her head down on the comforter but her eyes till gazed up at him. "You know what the worst part is?"

Isaac had to swallow hard to make sure his voice came out even. "The worst part of what?" he asked, having completely forgotten what they were talking about.

"The worse part of Kate haunting me," she answered. "The worst part is not knowing what's real and what isn't."

Isaac nodded.

But Allison shook her head. "No, I don't think you understand," she said, pushing herself up on one elbow. "I can't tell if this is real or not. I could just be dreaming."

"Allison, I think I would know if you were asleep," he said, realizing as he said it he sounded like an idiot. He couldn't get his brain to function properly with her laying this close to him.

"Well yeah, you would know," she replied. "But I have no idea. I seriously thought I was awake the time I killed you. I mean, you had fallen asleep, laying right where you are now," she said, gesturing to his position on the bed. "And I tried to wake you up to make you go home but you just sort of…mumbled…like you usually do when you're sleepy."

"I mumble?" he asked. He hadn't realized she'd seen him sleeping enough times to draw that conclusion.

She nodded. "Yeah, you do. See" That's part of why I didn't realize I was dreaming. And then I ruffled your hair, like this," she said, leaning forward and running her free hand through his hair. "And your hair felt just as soft as it does now. But I couldn't have known that then."

Isaac reached up and caught her hand as she moved to pull it away. Slowly, he brought her hand up to his chest, pressing her palm to where his heart beat frantically.

"Do you feel that?" he whispered, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

Allison swallowed hard, her eyes darting to their hands for a moment. "Yeah," she answered in a breathy tone. "Kind of hard not to."

"Do you remember feeling heartbeats in your dreams? Or hearing them?" he asked. He could feel his wolf pushing at the edges of him as her thumb rubbed across the fabric of his shirt. He also smelled the change in her scent. The memory of her arousal in the forest the day they tracked the creature rolled to the forefront of his mind.

She bit her lip and shook her head. "No. But then I didn't get close enough to check either."

They were silent for another few moments. Two heartbeats pounding desperately drowned out everything else for Isaac as his eyes dropped to Allison's lips.

Before he entirely understood what was happening, those lips were pressed against him. In fact, all of Allison pressed against him in the space of one of those echoing heartbeats.

Isaac froze. He hadn't meant to but he also hadn't expected this response from her either. He gently put his hands on her shoulders and broke her kiss, catching his breath. "Allison?" he asked, shakily. "What, uh. What are you doing?"

She leaned back, frowning. "Do I have to explain kissing to you? Please don't tell me I have to explain kissing to you."

He shook his head. "No, not that. Why? Why now?"

"Why not now?"

"I just, ugh," he said, rolling on his back and closing his eyes. "I don't want you to do something you regret later. You know, just because you're kind of freaked out right now."

Allison scooted closer to him and sat up. She reached over and put her hand on his cheek, turning his face to make him look at her. "Hey. I do what I want, when I want to do it, and because I want to do it. Fear is not the motivating factor here."

"If it's not fear, what is it?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

She stopped for a moment, staring at him as if seeing him for the first time. "Isaac. It's you, okay? It's you being here for me, always. Even when I don't want you to be. It's you sitting here, making me feel your heartbeat, trying to give me something to hold on to so I don't…so I don't descend into madness. It's not fear, okay? It's just you."

She let go of his cheek and reached down, grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. Isaac felt the beast within him swell and his face suddenly felt very warm, his hands itching to touch her skin.

"And it's not something I intend to regret, either," she said with desire in her eyes.

Isaac surged forward, knocking her on her back and pressing his lips to hers, his hands tangled in her hair. He could feel her smile against his mouth momentarily before reciprocating the affection, her hands scrabbling to pull his shirt over his head.

He would worship her. He would show her the difference between waking and dreaming. He would give her something to hold on to when she was afraid.

And he wouldn't regret it either.

…to be continued…

A/N: Revised July 9, 2015