Lord, you guys are killing me. I wanted to hold off on updating for a while to build suspense but damn you brought it with those last reviews. I was absolutely blown away by the response I got, and I hope this quick update shows you how much I appreciate it. And don't worry, this chapter ends on a cliffhanger too. ;)
Also, I lied to you all. For some reason I had it in my head that there were only 20 chapters in this story but it turns out there are a couple more, so the story's not quite over yet. So, good news I guess?
Anyway, thanks again, and I hope you enjoy the chapter. Here you go; you've more than earned it.
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"Damn it, Lydia," Stiles mutters, flinging open the door of his Jeep, "where the hell are you?"
Isaac and Kira are with him; Scott had gone off on his own. They've called Malia and Ethan, who should be starting their own searches soon. With Lydia missing, it's all hands on deck. The only problem is that none of them have a freaking clue how to find her. She'd driven, which means any attempts to track her by scent are out; and she's not responding to texts or answering calls. Not that they'd expected her to – she'd run off deliberately. She doesn't want their help, and she's made that perfectly clear.
"Do you even know where you're going?" Isaac asks from the back seat, leaning forward so he can talk to Stiles.
"No," Stiles snaps, a little more harshly than he'd intended, "that's the whole point. If we knew where she was, we'd be going to her instead of driving around aimlessly."
Isaac falls silent, and Stiles concentrates on driving. Even as he scans the streets for any sign of a certain strawberry blonde banshee, the only thing that runs through his mind is the look on her face when she'd stormed out of there. He's seen her hurt, and terrified, and even close to broken before, but he's never seen her look so betrayed. He knows they should have been more understanding, that they should have listened to her ages ago, but everything's moving too quickly. Even Kira, the peacemaker of the group, hadn't stepped in to defend Lydia. And now they might lose her, and Stiles can't shake the feeling that it's his fault.
Streetlights wash over him, and in the gentle glow he can see how much his hands are shaking even as he holds the steering wheel. He's screwed up before, but this might just take the cake; the girl he's been in love with since the third grade has now gone to make a deal with a werejaguar who wants to kill all of them. And there's something he needs to tell her, something he's not sure she knows anymore. He's still in love with her.
He loves Malia, but it's not like it is with Lydia. He and Malia are too dissimilar; their personalities don't clash, but they don't always mesh either. He always feels like he's one step behind her, trying to catch up. And part of him knows – part of him has always known – that he'd never be able to catch her, never be able to really hold her. They've shared something special, and he'll never forget that, but he can't be with her anymore. And on some level, he thinks she knows this; she might have even figured it out before he did.
"We have to find her," he says, half to himself and half to the other people in the car (he uses the term 'people' loosely given one of them is a werewolf and the other is a kitsune).
"We'll find her, Stiles," Kira says reassuringly. "What if we -"
Stiles' ringtone cuts her off. He glances over at Kira, sitting in the passenger seat, and then inclines his chin toward where his cell rests on the floor. Kira snatches it up and answers, and after a few okays, an Are you sure?, and a We'll be there soon, she hangs up.
"They found her," Kira announces, resting Stiles' phone on her lap. "Scott and Malia picked up Kate's scent a couple blocks away from my house. They think Lydia's gone to her. They're following the trail now."
Stiles grits his teeth and follows Kira's instructions, feeling more frantic with every passing second. Lydia's headstrong, passionate, and occasionally impulsive, and right now she's directing these traits toward the goal of confronting Kate – someone who could probably kill her with a single blow. It seems to take forever, but it's only a few minutes before they're pulling up outside an old house. Scott shows up almost as soon as they arrive, with Malia and Ethan in tow.
The pack gathers on the street, sharing a tense minute of silence. There are no rousing speeches, no reassuring promises, no arguments or discussions. They're here to save Lydia and stop Kate, and they'll do whatever they have to in order to do that. This all feels horribly, painfully familiar – only a couple months ago they were meeting like this at Oak Creek, ready to storm the figurative castle and drag Lydia away from the monster that had stolen her from them. But there's one of their number missing, the warrior with her arrows as sharp as her wit and eyes as wide as her heart; it doesn't feel right without it, and he doubts it ever will. They've got Ethan and Malia now, but it's not the same, and although none of them say it they can all feel it.
"Okay guys," Scott says finally, "we can do this. We go in there, we save Lydia, and we stop Kate. Any questions?"
Nobody says a thing, so Scott wolfs out and leads the way up to the door. Stiles falls into step beside Malia, but he can feel the distance between them; they share a look, and he knows they're on the same page. They know it's over. But now's not the time to get into it, so he grabs her hand and squeezes it – reassuring rather than romantic. She squeezes back, and he knows she understands.
Scott leads the way into the house, with Isaac and Ethan behind him, then Malia and Stiles, and finally Kira, complete with sword. Stiles is the only one without a weapon, and this makes him feel a little apprehensive – until he remembers that Lydia doesn't have a weapon either, and she'd marched headfirst into danger without a second thought. It may have been impulsive, but it was also incredibly brave. And if she can do it, he can too.
Kate and Lydia are both in the front room, which looks to be some kind of living room. The hunter has her arms crossed and is looking at the pack with a mixture of disdain and disappointment. Scott and the others spread out, blocking off the exit, facing Kate. Lydia is a couple feet in front of them, closer to them than she is to Kate, but not by much. The banshee glances back at them, not meeting any of their eyes, and then looks back to the hunter.
"You brought a werewolf into my home," Kate says with a snort.
Stiles can't see Lydia's face, but he can imagine it: her mouth tilting up in the beginnings of a smirk, one eyebrow raised in her characteristic expression of triumph. "I didn't just bring a werewolf," she says, her voice soft but powerful, "I brought an alpha."
Stiles can see Scott's eyes glow red as he takes a step forward, and the rest of the pack follows his lead. Kate doesn't seem threatened yet, but she's starting to look annoyed.
"Hackles down," Kate says, rolling her eyes slightly. "You know what I'm after now, and I know that it's what you want too."
This seems to trip Scott up, because he doesn't answer right away. Stiles steps in, doing his best to sound sure of himself. "What you're doing is not only illegal, immoral, and insane," Stiles says, "it's also incredibly pathetic."
"You can't just go around resurrecting people," Isaac adds. "Life doesn't work like that."
"And why can't it?" Kate retorts. "If I have the means and the motive, what's to stop me from going ahead with it?"
"I know you, Kate," Scott says, finding his voice at least. "Or at least, I used to. And you used to be a hunter – a good one. You cared about people, and you may not have always gone about it the right way, but you did try to do the right thing. But there's nothing right about murdering innocent people to bring back your niece, who -"
"- who you loved," Kate cuts in. "You were her first love, Scotty. You two had something special, didn't you? Don't you want to get that back? Don't you want to feel that starry-eyed, fluttery-heart, can't-keep-your-hands-off-each-other feeling again?"
Scott stiffens, and then he glances at Kira. They share a smile – it's grim and it's scared, but it's real. Stiles tries to catch Lydia's eye, but she's still focused on Kate. "I do have that feeling," Scott says quietly, "and even if I didn't, I still wouldn't want to bring Allison back."
Kate's mouth quirks up in something that almost passes for a smile. "You're lying, Scott. You'd bring her back in a heartbeat if you could."
"Not if it means sacrificing innocent people," Scott shoots back, and Stiles feels that old familiar feeling – respect, with just a hint of awe. There's a reason Scott's the first true alpha in a hundred years, and there's a reason why they all follow him.
Kate waves her hand as if brushing away the notion. "You teenagers are all so concerned with innocence," she says, and Stiles notices Lydia stiffen slightly. "What does it matter if those girls I killed were innocent? What does that mean, anyway?"
"It means they didn't deserve to die." Scott's eyes aren't red anymore; they're brown and totally human, shining with conviction.
Kate pauses, her eyes skimming over the gathered pack. "And Allison did?"
This stops all of them. Stiles feels his chest tighten and his limbs turn to ice. The memory of Allison's death is still too fresh, too painful, and he's been avoiding it for months but the reality is right here in front of them. Allison is dead; she's gone, and she can't come back. As much as Stiles would love to have her back, as much as he misses her so much that he can't even put it into words, he knows it's not right to bring her back. They don't have the right to mess with the natural order of things, to cheat death and kill strangers to do it.
Stiles feels a hand on his shoulder, and looks over to see Malia. She's not looking at him, but she squeezes his shoulder and he nods slightly to let her know he's grateful for the support. He hasn't really spoken about everything that happened, not even to Scott, but he has a feeling the werecreatures in the pack can smell the guilt on him. He's never asked them, but by the looks they give him he knows they're aware that he's not okay. What they don't know is that he might never be okay, because if it weren't for him, Allison might still be alive. It's an inescapable, incontrovertible fact.
"You need to stop," Scott says, his voice low and deadly serious. "Stop hurting innocent people and we'll let you go."
"And if not?" She raises an eyebrow, flexing her hands to bring out her claws, and then suddenly she's in her werejaguar form.
Stiles takes a step back, bringing Malia with him. The rest of the pack is getting ready to fight – claws are coming out and swords are being drawn. Malia nudges Stiles back, stepping in front of him, and although he wants to feel indignant, he does understand. He and Lydia are the only ones in the pack without real weapons, which is why they're always the ones saving the hostages or picking locks or doing other strategic activities out of the line of fire. Stiles glances over at Lydia, who seems frozen with fear.
There's a long moment of suspense, like a storm about to break, and Stiles thinks he can even hear the thunder. Then he realizes what it is – the collective growls of the werewolves in the pack. Almost as suddenly, the storm breaks. Scott and the others surge forward, and amidst the sounds of snarls and yelps Stiles darts around the fray and grabs Lydia.
"Come on," he says, pulling her away from the fight. "We need to get out of the way."
He and Lydia stay by the sidelines, and he tries not to notice the way she's clinging to him – almost like she had the night Allison and Aiden had died. She doesn't say anything, but she's biting her lip so hard he's surprised she hasn't drawn blood. He starts to speak, but nothing he says will make a difference. And then everything gets pushed to the side as the fight spills over, wolves being thrown left and right. Kate emerges from the centre, dripping blood – not all of it hers – and with a wild look in her eyes. She advances toward them, and Stiles pushes Lydia back behind him. He may not have any weapons, but he'll die before he lets anything happen to her.
Kate is less than a foot away before the wolves catch up to her. Ethan and Isaac dive in front of Stiles and Lydia, blocking Kate off from them. The hunter shoves them, so all four go flying, and then Scott lunges for her and knocks her to the ground.
It's over quickly. It's bloody, and it's violent, and Stiles knows it will haunt all of them for a long time yet. But it's over.
Slowly they all get to their feet. This time, they made it; they're all alive. Stiles turns to say something to Lydia, only to feel his heart snap. He turns in a circle, desperately searching the room, hoping he's mistaken. He's not. Scott is the last one to stand up, looking shaky on his feet, but all traces of tiredness vanish as he realizes.
When Stiles manages to speak, his voice is choked; this can't be happening, not again. He can barely get the words out. "Where the hell is Lydia?" Then something else occurs to him, and he forgets how to breathe. "And Malia?"
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Thoughts, theories? Remember that more reviews = a quicker update, so do what you did last time and we'll be golden. See you all next time!