A/N: First off, I want to apologize for the language in this chapter. If fics are rated the same way as movies and T is equal to PG-13, then I'm allowed one "F word," which I'm pretty sure I've already used. This chapter by itself would be rated R based on "F words" alone so... fair warning. (Apparently I was in a mood.)
Don't forget to review!
08161969
White Lake, NY.
1332 Hours
Just outside of a dairy farm
"What the fuck?!" Lydia exclaimed as soon as her feet hit solid ground. "I mean, what the actual fuck just happened?" She was backing away from the Stiles and the device in horror. Her whole body was shaking as was her voice. Her hand went up to her mouth. "Did he die? Was he dead?"
Stiles shook his head and shrugged, as he shoved the device back into the bag. "I don't know." He was breathing heavily as he tried to comprehend what had happened as well.
"Was he going to kill us?"
"I don't know!" Stiles held one hand to his bandaged wound and the other to his forehead.
There was silence for several moments before Lydia asked, "Is your side okay? The last time we jumped your stitches came open."
"It's fine." He took a few deeps breaths as he tried to get a handle on his thoughts. "Okay, we're somewhere new. There's a whole other person that needs to be saved."
"Did we even save Michio?" She asked almost timidly.
Stiles shook his head. "I don't know. I can't think about that now."
"Well, why the hell not, Stiles?"
"Because it's in the past!"
"Are you fucking kidding me?! We're in the past! We've been living in the past for at least two weeks! Stiles, you don't get it! Michio was Allison! If we don't save him then Satomi still burns Rhys, Noshiko still calls out for the nogitsune, the nogitsune comes back and takes control of the oni, Allison still dies, and I still lose my best friend! "
"And I'm still the one left feeling fucking guilty for the rest of my life! Thanks, Lydia! I fucking get it!"
Lydia took a step back. "What, do you- You blame yourself?"
"Well it's my fault, isn't it? I didn't close the door. I'm the one who let it in. I built the bomb at the sheriff's station, I stabbed Scott. It was my face that kidnapped you, killed those people at the hospital, and ordered the Oni to kill Allison and Aiden. So yeah, I blame myself."
"Stiles," Lydia reached her hand out but Stiles jerked away and began rifling through the bag to get the list.
"Thomas Jackson. That's who we need to save." As he replaced the list, he grabbed his shirt from out of the bag. "Ugh! This thing smells."
"That's okay," Lydia said as she looked to see where they were. "You'll probably actually fit in better if you were shirtless." Stiles looked up and saw the sea of people in front of him and behind them, a stage.
"Are we where I think we are?" He asked.
"Well, if this is 1969,then I'd say yeah. It's Woodstock."
Stiles nodded. "Good to know." Then he turned back to Lydia. "You need to change."
She sighed, "Can't I just take my clothes off and fit in too?"
"Probably, but I wouldn't be comfortable with that."
Lydia smiled, "And let me guess, you're going to find a shirt too."
"Oh, hell yeah. But I mean, with everybody taking their clothes off, it shouldn't be too hard, right?"
It wasn't.
Lydia found a long skirt and a light blue top. Stiles was able to find a pair of jeans (that were really tight, by the way) and a thin woven hoodie. The first thing he did was pull the string out.
"What are you doing?" Lydia asked him.
"Taking the string out?"
"Why?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. That's what I've always done." Lydia thought about that.
"Oh my God! You're right! The strings are missing out of all of your hoodies." Stiles just nodded and shrugged, as if saying 'your point?' '
The two of them separated so that they could change clothes. Well, so that Stiles could change clothes, because he was the one who really had a problem with it. He stepped behind a parked van and changed his pants, and when he was done, he saw that on the other side, there was a girl who was making flower crowns.
"Are you selling those?" The girl nodded. "How much?"
"How much do you have?"
Stiles reached into his jean pocket, and found a dollar. He felt sort of bad since he had just stolen these pants from some other guy, but shrugged it off, as the girl let Stiles pick which flower crown he wanted. He chose one with yellow and white flowers and gave the girl the dollar.
By the time Stiles found Lydia in the crowd, Santana was already playing. He gave her the crown and she put it on and beamed, looking like pure sunshine.
"This is insane!" Lydia yelled over the noise, but she had a huge smile on her face, their fight from earlier long gone.
"Yeah,"Stiles gave her a small smile as well, "It's just going to be really difficult to find one guy in the middle of this crowd."
Lydia was about to nod in agreement when somebody stepped up to the microphone. "Thomas Jackson, your wallet was found. It's with security on the side of the stage."
"Seriously?" Stiles asked out loud.
"Don't question it." Lydia told him quickly. "Just go with it. Come on."
They made their way over to security and waited for him to show up. Stiles was beginning to wonder if he was already dead and they were too late, when a man stumbled over to security. "Heeey. I'm Tommy." The guy was obviously on something, maybe a few different somethings. Both security guards just stared him down. "Tommy Jackson? You found my wallet?" They flipped the wallet open and looked at the license inside and seemed to agree that this was, in fact, the owner of the wallet. "Thanks, man."
"Lydia, go." Stiles said, pushing Lydia toward him.
"What?"
"Just go! I'm behind you."
"You want me to-"
"Go!."
"Fine!."
Lydia stumbled over to Tommy. "Oh my God!" She exclaimed, channeling her inner hippie. "You're the guy who lost his wallet? You're like famous." She bit her lip, and Tommy gave her a confused look.
"Really?"
"Yeah! They called your name out on the stage. That's so cool! Hey, do you mind if I hang out with you? My friends ditched me."
"Yeah, that's cool."
"Awesome." She turned around and saw Stiles following closely. "Oh, hey, baby!"
"Baby?" He mumbled as she grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to her.
"This is my boyfriend, can he join too?"
"Boyfriend?" Stiles and Tommy both said at the same time.
"Uh...yeah... I guess." Tommy agreed, sort of reluctantly. Stiles was trying not to over-think the fact that she had called him her boyfriend.
It wasn't working.
His rational self was telling him that they had also called themselves husband and wife before the whole WWI fiasco, and that didn't mean anything. Or did it? Because apparently they were both in love with each other and nobody had the balls to say anything until someone was dying. Unfortunately for Stiles, that someone was him.
The difference, Stiles told himself, was that marriage wasn't a possibility. They couldn't go from best friends to suddenly married in the matter of moments. But boyfriend? That was too close to home. They basically confessed their love for each other (and kissed several times), so it was the next logical step, and Stiles would love to be her boyfriend. But, what if Lydia wasn't ready for a seriously relationship? Could he even do the casual thing with Lydia?
"Stiles?" Stiles looked up and Lydia was staring at him expectantly.
"What?" He asked.
She rolled her eyes. "Tommy asked us if we wanted to hang out in his van." Lydia's expression was unreadable. It actually looked the way Stiles felt, like something she didn't want to do, but probably should. On the one hand, they shouldn't leave Tommy's side now that they know he's who they needed to save. On the other hand, the van sounded...well, creepy.
"What do you think?" He asked. She shrugged. He turned the Tommy. "Are you going into the van whether we follow you or not?"
Tommy shrugged. "I don't know."
"Then, can we not go into the van and still hang out?"
Another shrug. "I guess so."
"Perfect! Let's do that."
