And Jesus Brought a Casserole
"Talbot?" Derek repeated, stepping closer as Melissa nodded, brows pinched.
"Yes. Do you know then?"
Derek shook his head. "How serious is it?" For a long few second, he thought Melissa wasn't going to answer.
Then, with a glance at the Sheriff, she exhaled her reply, "The farther is unconscious like John. Apparently, the wife was dead on the scene. The two kids, they have a fever and are falling and out of consciousness."
Derek inhaled sharply, dragging his fingers through his hair. "This can't be a coincidence." He remarked thoughtfully, reaching into his pocket, only to grunt in frustration when he remembered he wasn't wearing his own clothes. Not that it would have mattered if he were, he can't use his cell phone. "I need to talk to Lydia." He informed them harshly, turning to the door.
"Derek?" Stiles snapped furiously behind him, "My dad."
Derek froze, closing his eyes. There was no way he could give John the bite, not without his permission, because he knew the man wouldn't want it. Any more than Stiles had. - And even if John could agree, Derek wasn't sure he was willing to put Stiles through the heartache of watching his father die a painful death, the way he'd had to watch...
Turning slowly, Derek fixed Stiles with an empty look, "Unless he wakes up and can understand the risks and fully consents to the bite, there's nothing I can do." He knew he sounded cold and detached, and he hated it. There was nothing he wanted more than to make everything alright for the man he loved, but he was trapped between a rock and a hard place. One way or another, Stiles was going to lose his father. It simply came down to with way would be more bearable for Stiles. - Even if it cost him their relationship.
Stiles eyes widened, tears clinging to his lashes. "So, you're just going to let my father die!" He yelled.
Derek gritted his teeth and muttered, "Could you give us a few minutes, Melissa."
The nurse looked unwilling to leave them. Or more specifically, unwilling to leave Stiles. She looked nervously between the pair, before Stiles gave her a sharp nod. "Its fine." Stiles muttered, his teary eyes never leaving Derek.
After a few seconds, she gave a reluctantly nod and headed for the door, "I'll be back in a few minutes." She said in warning.
The second she left the room, it felt as if she'd taken all the oxygen with her. Suddenly the room felt closed in and suffocating. The tension between them so thick it caused the hairs on the back of Derek's neck to stand on end. He swallowed, hands slipping into the pockets of his borrowed sweats. Stiles simply continued to glare at him, a tear rolling down his cheek. All Derek wanted to do was march over and wrap him up in a comforting hug and promise him anything he asks for.
Instead, Derek straightens his spine and said, "I'll tell Lydia to come keep you company. She'll want to look into the Talbots, anyway."
"The Talbots?" Stiles seethed. "Fuck the Talbots, Derek, what about my dad!" The question exploded from him.
Derek pressed his lips into a thin line. "I've already said..."
"I don't fucking care what you said, he's dying!" The tears were replaced by raw anger.
Staring the teenager down, Derek took a step forward, "I'm aware of that." He replied too softly, "I can't stop that. It's just down to a calm death in a hospital bed, or an agonising bloody death in your arms. I respect him too much to condemn him to the later."
"You don't know..."
"I said No!" Derek growled, eyes flashing red. Stiles stared at him with shock etched into his features, and Derek felt suddenly sick. He didn't apologise, however. Instead Derek turned on the balls of his feet and marched out of the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. The heady scent of anger and heartbreak haunting him all the way back to the house.
_(*-*)_
Deep down Stiles knew Derek was right. He knows how wrong it would be to give the bite to someone who isn't able to consent. The emotional trauma it can cause. The bitterness and anger. He'd seen it all first-hand. But none of that is making it to the surface while he's sat there staring at his dad's unconscious body, certain that without the bite, he was going to die, and Stiles would have no one left.
Okay, he knew that wasn't wholly true either. He'd still have Melissa and Scott, maybe. - And he'd have the pack. And most importantly he'd have Derek.
But that wasn't the same. His dad was his dad.
Getting up, Stiles began to pace the small hospital room, dragging his hand through his hair. He hadn't even gotten to tell his dad the amazing news. He might never get to tell him. Might never know if it would have changed things between them.
Tears burned his eyes as he kept moving, a heavy weight of guilt and hurt slowly settling on his heart. He wished he hadn't driven Derek away with his demands. God, what if he had driven Derek away, for good when what? No Dad. No Scott. No Derek, which would mean no pack.
Would Scott talk to him again if he weren't dating Derek? Or would he never forgive him for choosing Derek over their years of friendship? Stiles didn't know if he could, in Scott's place.
Oh God, he really was going to be alone, wasn't he? Stiles' heart raced and the room seemed to shrill around him. Who stole all the oxygen? He wondered, clinging to the edge of one of the cabinets. His head began to spin, the world going dark around the edges.
And Manticore was coming for him. They'd were going to kill everyone, and it was because of him. He led them back to his home. To his friends and family. To the people he loved. Fuck, he should have listened to Alec and headed for the boarder. If he had, no one in Beacon Hills would be getting hurt. His dad wouldn't be dying.
Logic tried to rear its head and point out that the crazy arse cult would have come to Beacon Hills regardless of his presence, because this was where they needed to be to complete their evil plan for world destruction, but he couldn't hear his Spock-brain over the incessant pounding of his heart.
Leaning forward, Stiles hung his head and tried to breath, but his lungs refused to work. They were abandoning him too, the darkness encroaching a little more and his legs began to give out, collapsing beneath his him. Beneath the weight wait of his heartbreak and fear, and the hell to come.
Tears streaked his cheeks in long salty lines while his mind created a dark dystopian future where he wandered the land alone.
He was crouched on the floor struggling to breath when he heard someone calling his name. It sounded like it was coming from the next room, recognizable but unclear. There was a heavy weight on his shoulder and warmth on his cheek. Opening his eyes, he found his view distorted by tears and had to blink repeatedly before the blurry figures took shape.
"M-Melissa?" He wheezed.
"It's alright, Honey. I'm here. You're safe. Okay, breath with me, sweetheart. In. Two. Three. Four. Out. Two. Three. Four. In..."
Melissa continued to talk him off the edge. Her hand a warm anchor on his shoulder. "That's it, you're doing so well. Just keep breathing." She turned her head away from him, "Scott, Honey, help me get him to the chair."
Stiles blinked rapidly once again when Scott materialized beside him. His ex-best friend's hands instantly going beneath Stiles arms and hauling him to his feet as if he weighed nothing at all. Damn werewolves. Stiles thought sluggishly. "Showing off."
Scott huffed out a dry laugh as he all but carried him to the chair, stepping back once Stiles was settled. Melissa appeared again with an oxygen mask and Stiles shook his head, trying to push it away.
"D-Dad." He wheezed.
"Your Dad is fine." Melissa reassured, lifting the mask to his face. "Just put this on and try to keep on breathing slowly. In. Out."
Stiles wanted to make a sarcastic comment, but he was too tired suddenly, his head feeling thick and his eye lids heavy.
"That's it, you're going so well Honey. Okay, I'm going to leave you with Scott for a few minutes, okay."
Stiles blinked up at her, then nervously over to his ex-best friend. His uncertainly must have been obvious on his face because Melissa squeezed his shoulder with a reassuring smile, "You boys will be fine."
With his panic attack reseeding the buzzing in his head began to quiet and he heard Melissa speaking to her son. "Stay with him, I need to go find something to clear up the mess. Keep him calm."
"I didn't..." Scott argued, but all Stiles could really focus on was the word mess.
Oh god, had he done something? Had he - pissed himself? Fuck that was humiliating. He quickly dropped his head to his trousers and exhaled a relieved breath when he found his stolen clothes were piss free. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the high-backed leather chair and focused on breathing in the fresh clean oxygen. Letting go of all the darkness and chaos.
He was startled away by the sound of crashing metal and shot up, heart pounding fearfully again, as he looked around panicked.
"Shit, sorry, man. I didn't mean to wake you." Scott said quickly, holding up both hands, a kidney dish in each hand and a wide-eyed innocent look on his face.
It caused Stiles gut to clench painfully, seeing Scott as the young naïve dork he'd known the last five years, once again. His best friend. - Before the supernatural, and love, ruined everything. Sitting up straight, Stiles dragged the mask from his face, "How long was I out?"
Scott set the small silver bowl on the side and slipped his hands in his pockets with a shrug, "Not long. About thirty minutes."
Stiles nodded, "That's the most sleep I've had in weeks." He commented, tossing the mask aside and getting to his feet, stretching out his back. His nose wrinkled when he inhaled, "It's that bleach?" He looked around and saw a shiny spot in front of the door.
"Yeah. The cleaner came in to see the mess.
Oh right, the mess. "What mess?" Stiles frowned, looking up from the clean spot.
Scott dropped his gaze, "I dropped Mom's diner." Stiles stared at him confused, and he quickly elaborated. "I was bringing mum her stew from home, she forgot it this morning, when I smelt you and heart your heart, and..." He shrugged again.
Stiles took in a sharp breath. He didn't know what he expected from Scott. Did he really think the guy to just leave him to suffocate? Honestly, with everything that's gone on between them over the last year, yeah. As much as he hated to admit it, he did.
"Thanks." Stiles muttered, retaking his seat and looking at his still unconscious dad.
Across the bed, Scott moved closer, looking down at the older man with concern and fear, reminding Stiles that his dad was the only father Scotty had known for the last five years.
"Is he going to be alright, do you think?" Scott asked quietly.
Inhaling deeply, Stiles saw forward and reached for his father's hand. It was overly warm and clammy. "I - I don't k-know." He lied, throat constricting around the words and tears threatened once more.
"I'm glad your back." Scott said, swiftly changing the subject. "I tried to find you. I contacted Christopher Argent the moment I found out you were missing."
Stiles dragged his eyes away from his father's pale sleeping face and looked up at his bashful friend, "I know." He muttered, unable to keep the bite from his tone.
Scott met his gaze and straightened, the innocent dork slipping away beneath a mask of irritation and anger, "Look, okay, so maybe I should have told Derek, alright." He flung his arms up, "But it was his fault you got taken in the first place, so..."
"What are you even talking about, Scott. It had nothing to do with Derek." He snapped, unable to control his volume. "I got taken because I'm a fucking freak, just like my mum. I got taken because a crazy psycho cult wants to unleash a god damn goddess and somehow, they need me to do it. It literally had nothing to do with Derek."
Scott stared at him, eyes widen, before his instinctive hatred of the Alpha tightened its grip on him, "Well he should have been looking after you." Scott argued, "He shouldn't have let you out of his sight."
"I'm not a fucking pet, Scott!" Stiles snapped, shooting to his feet. "And in case you missed the memo, I can look after myself. - And if anyone is to blame for me being taken it's me. I knew I was being followed. I knew she was out there, and I ignored it. I didn't tell anyone. I didn't take precautions. I was cocky and reckless, and it me locked up and tortured for two months of my life. - And almost cost Lydia hers."
He was breathing heavily again, his chest rising and falling. His heart racing out of control. His whole body seemed to hum. Meanwhile, Scott stood a few feet away, his nose wrinkled at the new scent.
Stiles took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, "I need snacks. I haven't eaten properly in three days." With that he headed for the door.
He was halfway down the corridor when Scott jogged up to his side. "They cut the power to all non-essential equipment.
Stopping in front of the vending machine, Stiles gave his ex-best friend a look, the corner of his mouth curling up and reached for the side. It didn't take much effort to pry the thing open.
"Stiles?" Scott exclaimed with panic, looking around himself.
Ignoring the other teen, Stiles started to grab packets of Reece's Cups and chips, stuffing a couple of bags of skittles into his pockets. "New world order, Scotty." He informed him matter-of-factly, before turning to the drinks Machine and repeating the process.
After grabbing a few cans of soda, he turned back to find Scott just staring at the thing, and Stiles shook his head. "If you want anything, I suggest you take it, because it'll all be gone the second, we step away." As if to make his point, a little girl appeared behind Scott, staring at the open machine with bright excited eyes. Stiles jerked his head in the girl's direction.
Looking down, Scott frowned, then dived in and grabbed as much as he could reasonably carry.
"Have at it, kiddo." Stiles chuckled, tapping the little Asian girl on the head as he passed her.
Scott hurried to match his pace, glancing back in time to see the girl filling her arms with treats. "You're acting like this is the end of the world?" Scott grunted, "It's just a power outage."
Stiles stumbled to a halt and turned to look at his ex-best friend. "Are you...? Scott, you know what's happening here, right? I know Derek told you about Stheno."
At the mention of the Alpha, Scott instantly went ridged and his features wrinkled into irritation, causing Stile to grunt and shake his head. "For god sake." He snapped furiously, and louder than necessary. Taking a deep breath, Stiles glanced around the corridor, seeing the way a few members of staff were watching them warily.
Turning, he set off again. Marching back to his father's room. Shoving open the door, he was hit with once more with the overpower scent of cleaning products, which caused his head to spin a little. Stiles shook it off and headed for the chair, dumping his stash on the small table. He heard the door close behind him.
" Derek didn't tell me shit."
Stiles turned his head, brow raised disbelievingly, and Scott sighed.
"Fine, he might have mentioned something about some tree goddess or other, but it wasn't important, Stiles. Finding you was important."
Stiles inhale deeply. "Which is why you lied to him about contracting Argent?" He accused angrily.
"I already explained..."
"I don't care Scott!" Stiles cutting him off loudly. "I don't care about your one-sided pissing contest..."
"What's that meant to mean?" Scott demanded, face becoming flushed with anger.
"It means, this is all in your head." Stiles yelled. "Whatever issue you think Derek has with you. Whatever issue you have with him, it doesn't matter, because there's a fucking insane cult out to destroy the goddamn world and they have people in high places. They have a fucking army that's coming for me and my family, and everyone who stands between them and their friggin' insane bitch of a goddess, and my fucking dad is dying and Derek won't give him the bite because he's just too friggin honourable, which means I'm going to have to actually sit by and watch my dad die, just as I did with my mum. - So, you know what, I don't care that you hate Derek. That you hate me for being with Derek. I don't care about anything right now because I have a billion and one more important things to be dealing with."
By the time he ran out of breath, chest heaving, tears were running down his cheeks and his whole body was shaking. Though thankfully not due to a panic attack this time. Just good old-fashioned anger.
Scott stared at him, eyes wide. It wasn't the first time Stiles had ripped into the werewolf over the past year, but Stiles thinks it might have been the most intent rants he's had. The pair stood there in a tense silence, staring at one another. The room suddenly feeling too small and suffocating. Which wasn't helped by the strong smell of bleach.
Before Scott can get defensive and argue back, the hospital room door opens and Melissa hurries in, her features pinched with worry.
"Mom?"
Melissa looks between the pair briefly before her gaze settles on Stiles. "Another two cases just came in. And the Talbot's dies."
Stiles stiffened, "All of them?"
"The parents." She replied shakily, her eyes shifting past him to the Sheriff. "The kids are still in critical condition. Doctor Matthews thinks their age is giving them a better change."
Stiles swallowed thickly, looking at his dad, his lip between his teeth. "If the Talbots have died, and they came in after..." His voice broke on the words, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks again. The fury of a moment ago swallowed up with fear.
He was reaching for his father's hand when the door opened, but he didn't look around, assuming it was Melissa leaving. Then he heard Scott growl, and Melissa demand, "What are you doing here?"
"Derek sent us." Lydia replied gently, and Stiles turned to the strawberry blonde stood awkwardly in the doorway, Peter behind her.
Her eyes locked on Stiles and she hurried forward. "He told us what happened."
Stiles huffed, "Yeah. Did he tell you he wouldn't lift a finger to save him?" He snapped furiously, a whole new wave of anger and desperation flooding in. "That he's just going to let him die because of some stupid noble code."
Lydia frowned, looking between Stiles and Scott. "Stiles, what are..."
"Derek wouldn't give the Sheriff the bite." Scott informed coldly, and with more glee than was appropriate.
"Ah." Lydia exhaled, glancing over her shoulder at Peter. "I see."
"You see?" Stiles huffed. "He's fucking dying Lydia. The family that got brought him after him are dead, which means he's not long behind."
"The Talbots are dead?" Peter asked, eyes widely looking to Melissa for confirmation. All he got was a glare.
Lydia exhaled a long breath, looking to Melissa, "When did they die?"
The older woman exhaled, before reluctantly answering Lydia's question, "Ten minutes ago. - And two more have been brought in."
"Who?" Peter demanded, and this time Melissa did answer him.
"Meredith Walker and Robert Quincy."
Lydia frowned, "Robert Quincy isn't on my list."
"What list." Stiles demanded.
Reaching into her large school bag, she pulled out a notebook, flipping over to the page with the five founding families and their descendance, before handing it to Stiles. With shaking hands, he scanned the page. "The twins are my cousins?" He asked frowning.
"Distantly." Lydia nodded. "As if Meredith Walker. But Quincy isn't one the list."
"How did you put the list together?" Stiles asked, flicking through the other pages without even thinking to ask.
"Birth records."
Stiles nodded sagely. "Records are only as good as the people keeping them."
"What?" Peter, Melissa and Scott said in unison, while Lydia exhaled a frustrated breath and nodded.
"Kind of how yours and Josephine's names aren't on Jackson's birth certificate."
"Right. - That's assuming this... whatever it is, is ain't at the descendants, of course. It could just be a coincidence."
"I don't believe in coincidence." Peter announced. "Especially not now."
"How serious is it?" Lydia asked Melissa curiously.
"At the moment, everyone is stable, but... I don't know how long that will last. We don't know when anyone was infected, or how, so we can't judge the incubation time."
Stiles hummed, musing over Lydia's notes.
"Derek's spent a lot of time with the Sheriff lately." Scott muttered.
Stiles head snapped up, "Meaning?" he seethed.
"You think Derek did this." Peter growled, eyes flashing murderous blue while Lydia sighed out a warning.
Looking between the face, including the disappointment on his mother's tired features, Scott opened his mouth, only for Sties to interrupt him.
"You know Derek wouldn't..." Stiles began angrily, only for Scott to cut him off with a matching tone.
"I meant," He seethed. "That perhaps Derek had seen something."
Stiles and Lydia froze, staring at him. A flicker of guilt shot across Lydia's face, while Stiles bit anxiously at his lower lip and let out a breath. Whatever he was about to shout, escaping with it.
"You know, he's right." Lydia said quietly. "Derek has been around your dad almost constantly over the past two months. Keeping an eye on him. - For you." She added with a hard-meaningful look that made Stiles suddenly extremely uncomfortable and ashamed of himself. "If anyone is going to know how your dad got this thing, it'll be Derek."
"He didn't say anything." Stiles said defensively. "If he knew, he'd have..."
"Did you give him a change?" Peter asked coolly. "Or did you just demand he bite him," he jerked his head in the sheriff's direction, "and then got angry when he refused."
Stiles stared at the man, his heart racing. Had he given Derek a change? But if Derek had known something, he would have said.
"He might not even realise he knows." Melissa said from the door.
"He hasn't exactly been at the top of his game the last couple of months." Peter agreed, "For obvious reasons."
Stiles shoulders slumped guiltily, "I just don't want my dad to die." He muttered.
"And you think he does." Peter pointed out. "You think Derek would just stand by and put you through that." He sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Then why not...?"
Before Stiles can finish the question, Lydia interrupted, "Peter, head back and tell Derek what is happening." Peter looked reluctant to leave her alone, but after an insistent look from Lydia, he sighed and marched towards the door. "Perhaps, Scott can go with you." She added, before Peter could leave.
"No." Both men said, shaking their heads.
Lydia looked between them, making it clear to them both that she wanted a private moment with Stiles.
"I promised to meet Allison." Scott informed them, causing Stiles head to snap up.
"You've seen Allison?" Lydia asked, her ton filled with hurt.
"Makes sense. Chris was at the Sheriff station." Stiles stated matter-of-factly.
"Christopher Argent is back in town?" Peter growled, eyes flashing once more.
Lydia exhaled in a rush and hurried over to Peter, catching his arm before he could leave. "Don't. You can deal with him later; this is more important."
Peter looked at her, eyes blazing, and teeth bared, but Lydia didn't pull back. "I'm going to..."
"Later, Peter. Please." She pleaded. "Stiles needs up now. The pack needs us."
Peter glanced over Lydia's shoulder, staring at Stiles with bright electric blue eyes, before exhaling. "Later." He reluctantly conceded.
"Promise me." Lydia demanded before allowing Peter to leave.
He stared down at her, features softening sadly. Then he leant forward and pressed a kiss to her lips, "I promise."
Slowly Lydia released his hand and Peter fled the room. When Lydia turned, she found everyone staring at her. "What?"
"You're with Peter?" Melissa frowned, features pinched with concern and disgust.
Straightening her spine, she flushed. "Yes."
"He's..."
"I know."
"Dangerous." Melissa finished, stepping up close. "And twice your age, Lydia." Turning her head to look at Stiles and Scott, she frowned. "Did you know about this?"
"Yes." Stiles shrugged, while Scott shook his head.
"You're 16." Melissa said turning back, as if Lydia wasn't fully aware how old she was.
"I'm aware." Lydia said defensively, spine straightening.
"It's illegal."
"Just like it was for me and Jackson? Or Scott and Allison." Lydia pointed out, shooting the other teen a challenging look. "And not that it's any of your business," she said coldly. "We haven't done anything."
The look of disbelief was clear on Melissa's face, "Lydia, I know you think..."
"Don't patronise me. You don't understand anything about..."
"Lydia..."
"Look, we have more important things to be dealing with, alright." Lydia snapped, face growing red. "Perhaps you shoulder check on Meredith Walker and Robert Quincy."
Melissa narrowed her eyes at the teenager. "This isn't over."
Lifting her chin, Lydia headed back over to Melissa without a word. With a last lingering look at the group of teenagers, Melissa yanked open the door and stepped out.
"Don't you have a date to get to?" Lydia said coldly, looking across the bed to Scott.
Nodding stiffly, the teenager looked to Stiles, "Are you going to be alright?"
It took everything within him not to scoff at the question, "I'll be fine. Thanks."
With a sharp nod, Scott sighed and headed for the door, "I'll see you later."
"Yes." Stiles said, though he didn't expect his ex-best friend would be hurrying back. - Certainly not now Allison was back on the scene.
Alone finally, Stiles and Lydia relaxed, both their shoulders slumping. Stiles dropped heavily down into the chair, while Lydia looked around. Getting back up, Stiles waved his arm to his seat, "I'll sit on the bed. Dad won't mind. - Right Dad." he said, smiling sadly.
The corner of Lydia's lip curled up, and she took the offered seat, while Stiles made himself comfortable at his father's feet. One hand going to the man's shine, reassuring himself of the fact his father was still there.
"Don't worry about Melissa." Stiles said, she's just being a mom.
"Well, she'd not my mom, so she doesn't get to judge me." Lydia slumped back in the chair.
"Have you and Peter really not - done anything?"
Lydia stared up at him, perfect strawberry blonde brow raised, "Have you and Derek?"
Stiles swallowed, looking sidelong at his prone father, "No. Derek won't let us. Insists on us not...until I'm legal." He sighed dramatically. "Damn morals."
Lydia smirked, "Makes sense though, considering his past."
Stiles exhaled, shoulders slumping. He pulled his hand away from his dad and folded them both his lap. "Yeah. - Wait you know about..."
Lydia nodded, "Yeah. When you vanished, Derek - he was desperate to find you. He thought that Jennifer had you. He was frantic, Stiles."
"Oh?" Stiles shot her a side long glance, "How could you tell?"
His attempt at humour fell flat and Lydia stared at him, unimpressed. "He literally died to find you, Stiles."
He scoffed, only Lydia wasn't laughing. There wasn't even a smile in her eyes, and Stiles' features fell, "What?"
"The ritual, it meant going to the veil."
Stiles heart leapt into his throat and his heart began to pound. Derek had killed himself. To find Stiles. "Is he insane?"
Lydia huffed a dry laugh, "In love."
Heat rose on Stiles face and he shifted off the bed, moving away.
"Stiles," Lydia said softly, "I think - you need to know."
"Know what?" He asked, turning to face her from the other side of the room, brow raised.
"The ritual. It - It should us stuff."
"Oh?"
"About our pasts. - About Derek's past."
Stiles stiffened, "What?" He asked cautiously.
Lydia shot the Sheriff a sad look before replying, "Did Derek ever talk to you about a girl named Paige?"
Stiffening, Stiles shook his head, a heavy sense of foreboding settling in his gut. "W-who is she?" There was uncertainty written across Lydia's face, as if she'd suddenly realised this wasn't her story to tell. "You can't just bring up some girl, Lyds and then not explain." Stiles snapped. "Who. Is. She?"
"Derek's first girlfriend."
Stiles froze, his eyes widening slightly before looking down at his shoes. "Oh." He'd thought he and Derek had been close. Derek had opened up about so much of his past, so why hadn't he mentioned this Paige girl? He couldn't stop a wisp of jealousy curling around his insides.
"He feels responsible for her death." Lydia announced, almost reading his mind.
Stiles' head snapped up, brows furrowed, "What?"
Heavying a huge sigh, Lydia waved a hand at the seat. Reluctantly, Stiles lowered himself back into the high back chair, hands folded in his lap like a little boy about to be scolded by his mom. Lydia chewed on her plush lower lip for a few seconds before speaking. "Okay, I'm going to give you the cliff notes version, the rest you ask Derek about." He told him firmly, waiting for Stiles to nod before continuing. "Okay, basically. When Derek was fifteen, he was dating a girl named Paige. She got bitten. - Actually, she sort out the bite, thinking it would mean her and Derek would stay together forever. Apparently, Kate was involved."
"Kate? - Argent?"
Lydia nodded regretfully, "Yeah. - Anyway, the bite didn't take and... " Lydia swallowed, her features going soft with sadness, "She was dying a slow and painful death, so - Derek did what he had to do."
Stiles stared at her. "He - "
"He did what he thought was best." Lydia said harshly, misunderstanding Stiles wide eyed gaze.
"His blue eyes." Stiles muttered softly to himself, as all the pieces dropped into place. "He blames himself. - Of course, he blames himself." Stiles snapped, shooting out of the seat to pace. "First Paige, then his family." Stiles shook his head. "Kate is fucking lucky she's dead." He spat furiously.
"Then you?" Lydia said softly. Stiles turned, eyes locking on his friend. "He's been a mess, Stiles. The things we saw during that ritual." she trailed off, her features paling.
"What kind of things?"
There was a long silence, Lydia lost in her own memory, before she jolted herself out of it, "Just don't give him a hard time, okay, Stiles." She snapped, slipping off the bed and marching towards the door. "I'm going to check out these other cases." With that, Lydia marched out of the room, leaving Stiles alone with his thoughts.
A/N: Sorry for the extra-long chapter. Though I'm sure many of you aren't complaining.