A/N: So, I wrote a scene that would have fallen at the beginning of this chapter, but it was either going to give away too much or be completely pointless, so I left it out. Although, I'm sure you'll see it at some point, maybe it'll be like a special feature at the end of the story (which we are nowhere near, by the way) or a one shot to bridge this story and it's sequel.

Anyway, please review! I love all of your reviews! They mean so much to me, and I'm so glad you guys are all enjoying reading this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

03131915

Artois, France

1301 Hours

Med Tent

Stiles gasped as his eyes flew open.

Lydia lifted her head sleepily and put a hand on his chest as she looked over at him. "Are you okay?"

His breathing was rapid and heavy and she could feel his heartbeat going crazy-and not in a good way. A thin sheet of sweat glistened on his face. He tried to form a response but his mouth wasn't getting the signal from his brain.

"Stiles? Are you having a panic attack?" All he could do was nod. Lydia rolled off the bed quickly and helped him sit up. "It's okay." She told him. He felt terrible. This was the third panic attack he'd had in front of her since they started this little adventure; and while they were all legitimate excuses, they still made him feel weak. "Hey...breathe with me. In...out...in...out..." He tried his best to keep up with her rhythm and slowly, his breathing began to return to normal. Once he had calmed down she asked,"Do you want to tell me what that was about?" She asked as she climbed back into the bed.

"It was...a dream...a...a flashback. I got shot." Lydia grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together.

"Maybe...maybe you should talk about it? Maybe that will help?"

He nodded. "Where should I start?"

She thought for a moment as a hint of a smile played at her lips. "Tell me all of it. I want to know everything. What happened when I left you that night?"

"Well, for starters, I'm glad you didn't take that bet, because none of those men were Arnaud."

Lydia chuckled and snapped her fingers. "Damn."

Stiles smiled. "I blended in with a flank of British soldiers, found a spare uniform in a bag. Nobody asked questions really. It was actually a complete accident that I found Arnaud. It was him that walked up to me."

"Hey, I haven't seen you before."

Stiles looked up and around just to make sure the man was actually speaking to him. "Um...yeah. I'm new. Just got in." The man gave him a curious look then nodded.

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

"You won't tell any one what?" He asked, his eyes widening.

"That you sneaked in."

"Wh...what?"

"It's fine." He said slapping him on the shoulder. "I don't think you're a spy. I think you're just trying to do the right thing. You're a better man than me. I'm Arnaud."

Stiles was staring in disbelief and confusion. "Uh...Stiles...um...what do you mean I'm a better man than you?"

"If you'd walked up to me a few hours ago, I would have given you my uniforms and walked away. I'm not cut out for this. I've got a girl at home and I miss her like crazy."

'Are you kidding me?' He thought. If they were here when they were supposed to be, then he wouldn't be in this situation. "Then, what made you stay?"

"Got to talking to some guy and he made me realize what an honor it was to be here. Olivia and I will be together when I get back." Stiles nodded once, a thoughtful expression appearing on his face. "What about you. You have a girl at home?"

"Uh... not really. I mean... there's this girl that I've been in love with for awhile, but I don't think she feels the same way."

"Have you asked her?"

"Um..."Stiles scratched the back of his head. "No...we've just been friends for so long... I don't think either of us would want that to change."

"But if you haven't asked her, how do you know she doesn't feel the same way?"

He shrugged and shook his head. "I just..."

"What's her name?"

He smiled. "Lydia."

"Whoa...you weren't kidding. I can tell you love her by the way your face just lit up." He felt himself blush.

"Is it that obvious? Do you think she knows?"

"I'm sure I don't know. What does she look like?"

Stiles sighed. "Five foot-three, strawberry blonde hair, green eyes..."

"Sounds beautiful. Do you have a picture?"

Stiles shook his head. "No, but she's here. In the med tent. We...came in together."

"He pretty much talked about you every chance he got." Arnaud said as he walked over to the bed.

Lydia smiled up at Arnaud then turned back to Stiles. "Really?"

Stiles blushed. "That makes me sound obsessive."

"I don't know." Lydia bit her lip. "I think it's sweet."

"But mostly obsessive." Arnaud joked. "I'm glad to see you're alive, mon ami."

"I'm glad to be alive."

"So," Arnaud asked as he motioned to the two of them. "When's the wedding? Am I invited?" Both of their mouths dropped slightly. "I'm just joking." He said, and they laughed nervously. The truth was, neither of them knew what was worse: The fact that they hadn't really thought about what this meant for them (was there even a possible wedding in the future? Were they even on the same page?); or the fact that if there was a wedding, it would be in their own time which would mean that Arnaud would likely not be alive.

"Arnaud!" Phoebe was calling him.

"Ah, I'm needed. I'll come check on you later." He told Stiles and he walked away.

"So..." Stiles started, awkwardly. "Where was I?"

"Talking about me every chance you got." Lydia smirked.

"Let's fast forward to yesterday." He gripped her hand harder and she knew this was where it got tough.

Stiles and Arnaud were next to each other in the trench. Arnaud was facing toward the enemy with his gun out, while Stiles has his back against the trench wall. He was holding a gun in his hand, but he hadn't fired one shot.

"What the hell are you doing, Stiles?"

Stiles shook his head. "I can't...I can't do it." Explosions were going off around him and someone a few men down had just fallen, the closest one he'd seen.

His eyes burned and he tried to blink the tears away.

"Are you crying?" Arnaud whispered, bringing his gun down.

Stiles closed his eyes shook his head. "No."

"It's okay if you are."

"I'm prone to panic attacks." Stiles blurted. "My hands shake, and I can't catch my breath. There's an overwhelming since of dread and it crushes my chest. It's like drowning on dry land."

It's a moment before Arnaud responds. "That's why you had to sneak in." He says, as if understanding something.

"What?" Stiles asked in confusion as he opened his eyes and looked to his right to see Arnaud. He had forgotten his cover story from a few days ago, but slowly, it came back to him. "Oh...yeah..." He looked straight ahead. "Sure...that's it."

"Look, if you need to leave, I'll cover you."

Stiles shook his head again. "I can't leave. I have to finish this." Suddenly, he felt like someone was watching him. He turned around and was hit with the feeling of recognition like he'd felt on the ship. He couldn't see anybody specific, but it was like he knew. "Get down!" Stiles yelled to his friend as he pushed him to the ground. For a moment he didn't even realize he had been hit.

"What was that about?" Arnaud asked as he pushed Stiles off of him. That was when he saw the red stain and it was starting to spread. "Mon Dieu! You've been shot!" Arnaud was trying to find anything that he could use to stop the bleeding, but nothing was working. Slowly, the shock and adrenaline was starting to wear off and the overbearing pain came next. "It won't stop!" Arnaud was yelling. "It won't stop bleeding!" Stiles looked up and saw tears in Arnaud's eyes.

"Are you crying?" He asks, his voice shaking as he tried to make a joke. Arnaud ignored him, or tried to at least. "Oh God," Stiles swallowed. "I'm dying aren't I?"

Arnaud shook his head. "No. No you're not dying."

Stiles nodded. "Yeah... I'm dying..." He sighed. "Shit." He felt tears spring to his eyes. "I screwed up."

"No... You..you just...you just saved my life...you..."

"I didn't tell her." His breaths were shallow and Arnaud was still trying to stop the bleeding. "You have to tell her."

"What are you talking about?"

"Tell Lydia I love her." That was when he passed out.

"Tell her yourself." Arnaud said as he stood and lifted Stiles off the ground, then began running back to the tent.

Lydia rested her hand over the bandaged wound. "That'll probably leave a nasty scar."

"Scars are cool though, right?" He asked. "They make you look tough."

"You are tough."

"Well, yeah, but now everyone will know it." Lydia chuckled.

"What are you two laughing at?" Arnaud asked as he walked over.

Lydia shrugged and pointed at Stiles. "This one thinks he's tough."

"Wha-you just said I was!" Stiles whined.

"Spoken like a true tough guy." Lydia laughed.

Arnaud smiled. "In all honesty, you are the toughest individual I've ever met. Against all odds you're here...we're both here. I don't know how I can repay you."

"You did. You got me to Lydia."

"No...I need to do something else... I know! I'll name my kid after you."

Stiles made a face. "Dude, no kid wants to be called Stiles. Besides, Stiles is the lesser of two evils that is my name."

"What's the other?"

He shook his head. "Nope...sorry. My best friend doesn't even know that."

"But I know it." Lydia smiled, remembering the name was used to unlock the cipher that held the list.

"But, do you know how to pronounce it?" He challenged.

Lydia thought about it. "I could try."

Stiles shook his head. "I'd prefer you didn't."

03201915

Artois, France

0545 Hours

Med Tent

It was a week later before Stiles was able to move around enough without showing any outward signs of pain and Nurse Lydia deemed him fit to time-travel. He was still feeling sore and his stitches were still not ready to come out, but he was going stir-crazy and they both knew it was time to move on.

"You ready?" Lydia asked him when she had finished her morning rounds.

He looked around the large tent at the familiar faces and nodded sadly. "Yeah." He was already sitting up, so he slowly threw his legs over the side of the bed. Lydia put her arm around him for support. If it were anybody else, he would have made a big show about how he didn't need anybody helping him; but this was Lydia and would never say no to having her arm around him.

"We're going to take a walk." Lydia told Phoebe.

"Have fun." She smiled.

"Thank you." Stiles said, suddenly sentimental.

She was still smiling as she nodded, slightly confused. Lydia made a point to hug her several hours before so that she wouldn't suspect anything. Arnaud left two days earlier and they were grateful, because they at least got a proper goodbye instead of this fake goodbye they got with Phoebe.

Lydia led Stiles out to the back of the tent where she had left the bag the day before in preparation of the jump. She unzipped the backpack and pulled out the device and zipped it back. Stiles reached for the bag, but Lydia threw a strap over her shoulder.

"No, I can take it."

Stiles groaned. "Lydia," He whined. "Come on! I got shot! It's not like I-" He stopped mid sentence. Lydia glared at him, daring him to finish the thought. He sighed, defeated. "Yeah, okay. You can take it."