Hey guys! Thanks for reading. Don't worry, I wont keep Scott and Lydia away from each other for too long. Thank you for the reviews I got, it's nice to hear your thoughts. Enjoy and please review!

CHAPTER 11

Scott was on his fifth memory since being separated from Lydia. After leaving the Stilinski house, he'd arrived back at the school parking lot, long enough to hear himself scream like a dying cat through the speakers, wincing as he remembered his first "roar". He stayed long enough to test Stiles and search the school for Lydia, yelling for her as he ran down the vacant hallways. He only panicked once, as he came face to face with Peter in his full alpha form. He'd forgotten how intimidating he'd been before he'd died and lost some of his power. When the monstrous wolf had leapt through him, Scott had come back to reality and remembered it wasn't real, letting his own red eyes turn back to brown. As his past self and Stiles ran for their lives, Scott exited the school and ran towards the cars, the world growing dimmer. He didn't need to see this memory; he'd lived through it. He had to find his friends.

Scott had blinked, and opened his eyes to find himself in Stiles jeep, driving through a harsh storm. Before he could contemplate what was happening, Stiles had swerved, a tree coming out of nowhere. Scott felt the crash and threw himself forward to catch himself. He heard his wrist break on the dashboard as it snapped back, stopping his momentum. He's screamed in pain, righted his wrist, and waited a minute as it had healed. He had panicked when he'd seen Stiles unconscious next to him, blood seeming from a gash in his head, matching a crack in the windshield. As much as he wanted to stay until his brother came to, he was afraid that the longer he went without finding Lydia, the harder it would be to get to the same memory. So he'd kept moving.

He'd watched as his friends face transformed into a look of horror and desperation as he watched his dad attacked by Matt in the station, unable to move in his partially paralyzed state. He remembered the conversation they'd had about it at the lacrosse game the next night. About little he could help, how he couldn't do what Scott did, how helpless he'd felt. Guilt had ripped through him as he left his friend paralyzed on the ground, exiting the station to the next memory.

And here he was, thrown back into the dark, except this time, it wasn't silent. He could hear someone crying nearby, and someone else moving their hands against a wall nearby as if looking for a light switch. Scott blinked rapidly when the light in the center of the room switched on. His eyes widened at the sight of Erica and Boyd hanging from their tied hands, mouths covered in duct tape, with what appeared to be electrical wires attached to them. Tears were formed in Ericas eyes, and Scotts heart went out to them, not knowing how long they'd been here.

Given the circumstances, Scott was surprised to find himself slightly happy. Even though they certainly had their differences, towards the end, he had been friends with both of them. In a way, it hurt to see them, grief he hadn't known he had shone through. Almost as if it seeing them here confirmed that this chapter of his life had happened. Reminded him of those he had lost. Though he hated seeing them being tied up and in pain, Scott still preferred it to seeing their bodies devoid of life. Stiles rushed through Scott, and he shivered. He didn't think he'd ever get used to that. Stiles ran towards Erica first, and reached his hands up to unbind her hands. As soon as he reached for the binds, Erica started squirming, yelling incomprehensibly behind her gag.

"Shhhh!" Stiles said, putting his finger up to his mouth. He reached up and grabbed her binds, but the wires sparked, and the lights flickered. Stiles grabbed his hand back in a flash, crying out in pain. The door leading to the basement swung open and feet appeared.

"They were trying to warn you, it's electrified" Gerard, Scott remembered. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. He continued down the stairs, face coming into view with a smug grin on his face. Scott barely controlled his urge to punch him in his stupid wrinkly face.

"What are you doing with them?" Stiles inquired.

"At the moment, just keeping them comfortable." Gerard said casually, like he did this every day. For all they knew, he did. "There's no point torturing him, they won't give Derek up. The instinct to protect their Alpha is too strong."

Scott knew he had to go, find Lydia, find Stiles. That was the mantra he'd repeated to himself over and over. But he was again reluctant to leave, curious about what had happened next. He knew he'd never gone looking for Stiles- Derek had caught him off guard with the whole "My uncle the psychotic killer who turned you into a werewolf and tried to get you to kill all your friends miraculously came back to life" thing.

"Okay," Stiles said, "So what are you doing with me?" He looked nervous, so Stiles did what he always does when he feels nervous or threatened- he started talking. "Because Scott can find me alright? He knows my scent. It's pungent, you know? It's more like a stench. He could find me even if I were buried in the bottom of a sewer covered in fecal matter, and urine-" Scott looked at Stiles, grossed out, but guilt gnawed at him. He'd never even really tried looking for Stiles. After Derek showed up he was forced to put the search for Stiles on the back burner. And yet during that time, that same person he should have been looking for had complete faith that he would find him, and soon. Gerard stepped closer to Stiles.

"You have a knack of painting a vivid picture Mr. Stilinski; let me paint one of my own. Scott McCall finds his best friend bloodied and beaten to a pulp, how does that sound now?" Stiles blinked in uncertainty, but he hid it well and went back to his usual line of defense. "I think I might prefer more of a still life, or a landscape, you know?" he said, keeping his ground against Gerard who was now very close to him.

There was a dare on Stiles' face, and Scott could tell that Gerard didn't like the look of it at all. After all, Argents were always the ones installing fear, they were the family creatures ran away from. The family legends were written about. And yet here was a 17 year old kid fitted in high school lacrosse gear, a regular human, daring him to keep his word. But after all, when was an Argent afraid of getting their hands a little dirty? Gerard's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and Scott saw the defiance still stuck on his friends face.

Scott remembered what Stiles had looked like after this encounter, and instinctively said "Stiles…" in his warning voice, forgetting once again that whatever he said didn't actually matter. No one could hear him.

"What, what are you 90?" Stiles asked, "Look I can probably kick your ass up and down this room-" As soon as Stiles had gotten the last word out, Gerard had lifted his hand and back handed Stiles so hard, that his momentum was thrown and Stiles crashed to the ground. Scott moved to help, before stopping himself. He couldn't do anything but watch helplessly as Gerard flipped Stiles onto his back and reared back his hand. "Okay. Whoa whoa whoa." He said at the fury in the old man's face.

Gerards fist landed on Stiles jaw, causing his head to snap back, and Scott flinched. The oldest Argent reached back his fist and hit Stiles again, delivering blow after blow into Stiles face. Scott began backing up to the stairs, not wanting to see anymore. He turned around and began to ascend, hearing the blows continue. Scot began to climb. He glanced back and for a second Scott could have sworn Stiles saw him. He didn't seem to look through him, bur directly at him. Scott froze, but and watched as Stiles' face went slack, falling unconscious after one final punch. As soon as his friends' eyes closed, Scott shook it off and continued up the stairs. He couldn't be seen by anyone but the real Stiles, and he'd already tested that one. Time to move on. Darkness descended like a tidal wave, and he was gone.

…

Lydia was focused on one thing. Or at least that's what she kept telling herself. She needed to find her friends. But it was hard to walk away from some of the memories Stiles seemed to send her way. The first one she saw after the morgue was the panic attack Scott had told her about. She'd come out of the darkness into a classroom with Stiles at the front. When she'd looked over his shoulder at the words literally falling off the page, she'd known something was terribly wrong. She'd followed the boys into the bathroom, and watched Stiles loose it. She saw how convinced he was that he was just in a dream, convinced that reality was the illusion. She saw his fear that he was losing his mind, and was once again drawn to him, desperately wanting to tell him that he was going to be okay, that he'd be fine, even though it'd be a lie. When tears had started to form in her eyes for her friend who didn't understand what was happening to him, she had turned and left the room, allowing herself to fall into the next memory.

She'd come out from the school and into Eichen house, now officially her least favorite place in the world. She'd watched as Stiles climbed the stairs with an orderly. She'd seen how his eyes were drawn upwards at the sound of mutterings. She raced with him up the stairs as he screamed for someone, anyone to stop what was happening. For someone to get to the patient who was tightening a noose around his neck. She raced up the steps with him, knowing in her gut that they wouldn't get there in time. She screamed as the man jumped, legs dangling next to them, seeing tears form in Stiles eyes at not being able to save someone else. While her eyes were stuck on the body, she noticed Stiles' head looking down into the sea of people who had come to see what all the commotion was. He was staring steadily at something and she followed his eyes to see the nogisune lurking at the bottom of the steps. Nope. She thought. She did not want another encounter with that thing any time soon. She was trapped, not wanting to get away up the stairs towards the body, but not wanting to descend towards the trickster. Lydia leaned back against the banister, arms crossed, and waited for the institution to dim around her. She was eager to get out of the institution; when it came, she welcomed the darkness.

She'd come through the other side here. The same place everything had begun- back at the hospital. She was right outside of a hospital room, and peeked inside. It took her a second to recognize the person in the bed. The last time she'd seen her, she had been on the roof, attacking her own son. Claudia Stilinski did not look good. Her skin was pale and she was eerily still. Lydia watched as she began to stir, looking like the action of waking up was in itself strenuous. She looked down to her side closest to the door, and for the first time Lydia saw Stiles hunched over his mother's bed, facing away from her. She tensed, worried that Mrs. Stilinski would once again reject her son, but instead she began running her hands through Stiles's hair affectionately. Stiles looked up, big brown eyes staring at her face in desperation, hoping to see recognition.

"Mom?" he asked. His voice was raspy from sleep. Lydia moved from the door over towards the mother and son. She noticed very faint scratch marks on 10 year old Stiles' face, matching the small traces of yellow in his skin where the last remaining sign of bruises were fading. The outburst she'd seen before must have only been a week or two before hand. Stiles' mother seemed to have deteriorated severely in that time.

"Hey baby." Claudia said, staring at her son with tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry Stiles. I'm so sorry I forgot you again. How could I forget you?" She said, voice catching.

"It's okay mom, I understand. I know you'll forget me again soon, so I just want to tell you I love you." Stiles said, wiping the tiredness out of his eyes before turning back to his mother and drinking in her face. Lydia stood next to Stiles, testing him, but felt the urgent need to leave. She felt like she was intruding on a very personal moment with his mother.

Claudia smiled at him. "I love you too. Come here." She reached out her arms and Stiles practically jumped into them, eager for his mom to hold him while she remembered who he was again- even if it didn't last long. She began humming to him, and he sat back in his chair, listening to her as he held her hand. She closed her eyes, still humming, and squeezed her sons hand. Stiles smiled, and Lydia looked at it with surprise. It was only then that she realized she hadn't seen Stiles smile in weeks. Not since before the attack, before the comatose state he'd worn for week, and certainly not once in this whole sequence of nightmares. Though Lydia had been on her way out of the room, she turned back now, and stared at this child version of her best friend. He may have been younger, but him smile was the same. She'd missed his smile. She'd missed his laugh, his snarky comments. A dull ache began in her heart. She wanted Stiles back- the real Stiles. Lost in thought, Lydia didn't notice when Claudia Stilinski stopped humming, but she did notice when the monitors began emitting alarms.

Stiles was yelling. "Mom? Mom?! HELP! Somebody help me! Mom! Mom, wake up, please wake up. Mom! You have to wake up!" Nurses fled into the room, and Lydia gasped as one of them ran through her to get to Stiles. She looked at the heart monitor, and noticed it was a flat line across the screen. The nurse closest to Stiles was trying to calm him down, but the more she tried, the more wild Stiles got. A fourth nurse ran into the room, and helped to drag Stiles out of the room.

"Mrs McCall?" Lydia asked, recognizing the latest nurse in the room. When the two nurses got Stiles out of the room, it was Melissa who stayed and tried to reason with Stiles. She was apologizing, telling him that his mom was gone. When reality sunk in for Stiles, he stopped screaming and went very still. His eyes welled up and spilled over, but he didn't move. He stood there as Melissa called out to him again and again, and though his eyes finally looked into hers, he still stood frozen in the hallway. Melissa looked behind her to the nurses in the room just beyond.

"Hey. Hey look at me. Can you tell me your name hon?" Melissa asked the boy. Stiles was shifting his eyes between the doorway to his mother's room, and the nurse who kept demanding his attention.

"St-Stiles." He said, voice wavering.

"Stiles?" Melissa said, looking at him questioningly. She looked like she wanted to ask, afraid she'd misheard, but when Stiles nodded, she went with it. Stiles was wiping his nose on his sweater sleeve.

"Okay Stiles, come on." She said, leading heartbroken little Stiles down the hall. "I'm going to bring you to the waiting room while I call your dad okay?" Only when she began following them did Lydia realize that she was crying. She was having a hard time seeing the hallway in front of her, but followed the vague outlines of Melissa and Stiles to the waiting room, where Stiles sat down obediently and put his head in his hands. He didn't move again, just stayed there as if in shock. Lydia had already tested him, but found herself on her knees in front of him, trying to grab his hand and comfort him in any way possible.

She began thinking of all the times she'd been at a loss for what to do, and Stiles had been there for her. When she'd thought Jackson had died, when she'd almost gotten her foot caught in a coyote trap, when she saw Aiden lying dead in his brothers arms, and most recently, getting her out of Eichen house. Stiles was always there for her when she needed him. All she wanted right now was to do the same to him. To be there for him. She knew she didn't even have to say anything, not that he'd hear her anyways-but she didn't want him to be alone right now. So she stayed kneeling on the ground until she saw Mr. Stilinski run into the hospital and pause at his sons face, before walking slowly towards him and embracing him in a firm hug as Stiles broke down.

Lydia wiped her eyes, stood up, and looked once more at her friend, before turning back and walking out of the hospital. The world began to darken soon afterwards, and Lydia began walking faster, now eager to get away. She didn't look back as the darkness swirled around her, but instead closed her eyes in waiting. When she opened them, she was standing next to a school bus in the parking lot of a hotel.