Sam, Dean, and Castiel (she'd begun to see that only Dean was allowed to call him Cas, and occasionally Sam) dropped Lydia off before heading out to Derek's. They looked a little surprised when she didn't insist upon coming, but they hadn't protested. She'd given the excuse of not wanting to get in the way, and Stiles would see right through her false pretense, she was certain, but she didn't care.
Lydia had work to do.
Once at her house, she walked past her mom watching TV and locked herself in her room. She opened her laptop and typed supernatural carver edlund into Google. It took her a while, but she eventually found a place that had the books in stock. None of they major sellers carried them in-store and she didn't want to have to wait for Amazon to deliver.
Three and a half hours later, Lydia was back in her room after driving to an individually owned bookstore and buying the series. The whole damn series. The clerk gave her one of the weirdest looks she'd ever received, but she'd grown used to such looks. He brought her a box from the back to pack them in. Paperbacks of an underground series didn't cost much, which was nice, not that a higher price would've stopped her.
Her mom left as soon as she got back and when asked what was in the box, she lied and said it was for a school project. Lydia locked herself in her room again, not knowing when her mom would be back but that she would undoubtedly still be engrossed whenever it was.
She opened the box by her bed and pulled out the first book. She settled onto her bed, crossed her legs, and began reading about the Winchesters' escapade with the woman in white.
She finished the first book and started the second, found them surprisingly addicting, but at the same time disturbing. These were real things. Real things that had actually happened. She decided werewolves were definitely not the worst thing there was out there. Wendigos sounded terrible.
Her phone sat flipped over on her nightstand, forgotten. It buzzed off and on for an hour, but she was completely oblivious, totally rapt in the story/biography. Sam and Dean had just jumped in the water to save Lucas when a knocking on her door yanked her from the past.
"Lydia? Lydia, Jackson's here to see you. What are you doing?"
She shoved Dead in the Water under her pillow and threw her blanket over the book-filled box by her bed before getting up to unlock the door.
She poked her head out. "What does he want?"
"I don't know, I didn't ask. Do you not want to see him?"
"Tell him I'm busy and I'll call him later."
"Are you two fighting?—"
"No, I'm just otherwise occupied at the moment."
"It's been hours, Lydia, maybe you should take a break from whatever project it is you're working on."
She bit back a rude comment because Jackson was right downstairs and would be able to hear her loud and clear. That was the last thing she needed, the pack finding out…well.
Instead, she shut the door in her mom's face. Things she hadn't cared to give much thought were all pouring out from every crevice between the thoughts in her brain, slowly saturating everything, and if she thought about her mother, she felt the urge to hit something and now knowing that she could probably do some damage, she wanted to be left alone. So she pardoned her tactless behavior for the time.
She waited until she heard the door shut before plunking back onto her bed. She puckered her lips in a frown and noticed the light from her phone seeping on from where it was facedown. Stiles had called her. And texted her. And Jackson had called her. And texted. So had Allison, and…so had a number she didn't know. She considered the possibility that it could be one of the Winchesters and deliberated calling the number to find out. She decided against it and didn't bother reading any of her messages. If it was good news, there wouldn't be multiple missed calls and texts, which meant it was bad news, and she didn't care to hear it just then.
"Stiles, get down!"
Stiles hit the floor just as Derek tackled the wolf that had been coming at him full-speed.
"Stop!" Everyone froze as the leader of the Alpha pack came forward. "I see now that we underestimated you. Nor did were we aware you were friends with hunters other than the Argents. But the fact remains that we have two of your members."
Derek let out a menacing growl.
"Erica, dear. Come out." A door behind the Alpha opened and Erica emerged from the shadows. The lighting was poor in the abandoned warehouse (so original), but Stiles could see she'd been crying. "Go ahead."
"Please—we'll join your pack, just don't make me—"
The leader raised an eyebrow, daring her to defy him.
"Derek—I'm so sorry."
"Erica, what's going on?"
She lunged for him, taking him by surprise, knocking him down. He got himself together quickly then, kicking her off. "What the hell?"
She was trying not to cry when she struck again, landing her claws in the skin of Derek's side and tearing. He roared and shoved her away, but she stayed on her feet. Their whole pack was staring at her, at an utter loss.
"Erica…" the leader warned when she stayed still for too long.
"He'll kill Boyd," she said before going at Derek again.
"Wait!" Stiles shouted, throwing himself between the two werewolves. But he hadn't moved fast enough and Erica had already attacked and withdrawn before Stiles' feet carried him to the space in front of Derek. Of course, he had no idea what he was going to do, he just knew he could let Erica kill Derek. One, Derek wouldn't kill her while any other option existed, two, if he did it would eat away at him, three, Stiles was pretty sure Erica and Boyd were a thing (Allison had mentioned noticing it from when she'd been on the warpath) and that Erica would kill Derek if she had to and that it would eat away at her as well.
"Stiles, get out of the way," Erica begged. "I don't want to hurt you, please."
"You don't want to hurt Derek either."
"I don't have a choice."
"Yes, you do. You always have a choice."
She shook her head minutely. "Not this time," she whispered before going airborne. Derek grabbed Stiles and tried to shove him behind him, but she dropped to the ground before she reached them, blood spilling from her back. Stiles' eyes weren't fast enough to see it, but he knew it was Castiel. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. His thoughts were confirmed when he glanced over his shoulder and saw a machete in the angel's hand.
The leader's eyes were locked on Castiel now, jaw clenching and unclenching. "What are you?"
Then Stiles and Derek were no longer at the warehouse, but on the opposite edge of town, both of them landed firmly on their asses. "What just—"
Stiles was cut off when Sam and Dean appeared behind them, on their feet somehow, and Dean shouted, "Damn it, Cas!"
The whole pack started popping up in twos. Isaac and Scott, Allison and Jackson, and lastly Peter and Cas. Isaac managed to keep his balance and righted Scott before he could land on the pavement, and Allison had gone down on one knee with Jackson, who was still bleeding out from the pipe that had gone clean through his torso. Stiles tried to shake the feeling of being teleported or flown or whatever.
Dean strode purposefully over to Castiel and shoved him back a few steps. "What the fuck was that?"
"We needed to get out."
"Yeah, we did. And why did you suddenly find us incapable of walking out on our own two feet?"
"We were outnumbered, Dean. Jackson couldn't have gotten away, Allison and Stiles wouldn't have been fast enough—"
"So fly them outta there! Don't go back in half a dozen times to get the rest out!"
"Dean, there's nothing to get worked up about."
"You don't have that kind of juice anymore!" he shouted. "What if you crapped out while you were still in there? What then?"
"Dean," Sam snapped. "Save it. He got us all out of the building, now let's get out of town."
Dean listened to his brother and started walking for the Impala across the street. Sam took a brief moment to give Castiel's shoulder a comforting squeeze.
"Meet back at my place," Derek said gruffly. And Stiles didn't have time to grow more shocked because Derek was hauling him off to his Camaro.
In the middle of Skin, she nearly jumped out of her skin (no pun intended) when someone knocked loudly on her door. She was prepared to yell at her mom, but when she opened it, it was Stiles standing there, hand raised, ready to hit the door again.
"Stiles, in case you didn't hear from Jackson, I—"
"Yeah, you're busy, sure." He pushed his way past her and spun back around. "What the hell is going on? You don't answer your phone, you tell Jackson to buzz off, and you don't want to talk to me either. Did you miss the part where Isaac and Peter found the alphas' hideout?"
"No, thank you, I was perfectly aware. Dean explained after you called."
"Then why didn't you come with?"
"Because I had other things to do besides get in the way of a supernatural rescue mission."
"Do you even care about Erica and Boyd?"
"Honestly? I hardly know them, Stiles. And it sucks that they got pulled into this mess, but if I had other things to fucking do, I'm going to fucking do them. And it's really not anyone else's damn business is it?"
Stiles mouth hung open at her controlled outburst, indubitably astounded by her sudden language. He threw his hands up and turned to face away from her. "Fine. Fine you were…hey. What's this?" He'd seen the open book lying on her bed and tilted his head to read the title. He turned narrowed eyes on her. "Lydia, why are you reading the Supernatural series?"
She clenched her jaw and stuck out her chin. "Like I said. None of your damn business."
"You know, you could just ask them—"
"Stiles? Get the fuck out of my room."
"What the hell is your problem?"
She clenched her fists at her sides.
"I just need people to leave me the fuck alone for a while."
Stiles threw his hands up. "Fine. If you want to go back to being a bitch, fine. We found Erica, by the way. She tried to kill Derek. They made her, said that if she didn't, they'd kill Boyd. Nobody died, but you're boyfriend got impaled, not that you'd care. Have a nice day, Lydia."
He slammed her bedroom door and the front door on his way out. She thought it was safe to assume her mom wasn't home.
The only other time she could think of when Stiles had yelled at her was when he'd said death didn't happen to her, but everyone around her.
It made her think of Sam and Dean.
She finished Home and found herself crying. How could John do that to them? Be right there, right there, but hiding from his sons? Her fingers clenched the book, nails digging into the cheap cover with a terrible portrayal of the brothers.
How could he have just left them like that?
How could he have just left her?
Towards the end of Faith, she looked up and saw Castiel standing a few feet in front of her, staring intently.
"Castiel!" she exclaimed.
He canted his head to the side. "Why are you reading that?"
She fought the urge to hide the book behind her back. This was an angel of the Lord, fallen or not, and what she was doing felt wrong somehow. Her lack of complete honesty undeniably had something to do with it.
"I—I was curious."
He smiled softly at her. "Understandable. But there's something else. Something you're not telling them—or anyone, for that matter."
She pressed her lips together and gnawed at them nervously.
"Secrets are never good," he said. "Nothing positive ever comes of hiding things." His expression seemed to say, I would know.
"What if…what if it's something you never told anyone? Ever? And if you do, if you say it out loud, it could…you feel like it might change everything?"
"Change isn't always bad, Lydia," he said, sitting beside her close enough that their thighs barely touched. She remembered Dean making sarcastic comments about personal space once or twice. Probably an angel thing. Or maybe just a Castiel thing. They sat in silence for a time.
"You know, it's frustrating," Castiel said eventually. "I used to know what you're keeping secret. I know I used to know and I can't remember. It's most likely that it had something to do with the Winchesters."
She looked at him in alarm. "Have you told them?"
"I have nothing to tell," Castiel said. "I can't remember. If I do, I probably will though. If it's…salient."
"Why'd you come here?"
"To your room or are you speaking in a broader aspect?"
"To my room."
"Dean and Sam were concerned. And your absence is affecting Stiles' behavior. Jackson is in a mood as well, and everyone seems to be generally off."
"You were with all of them?"
"At the Hale residence, yes."
"I thought Sam and Dean still wanted to kill Peter."
"They still want to," Castiel said bluntly. "But they won't."
"You want me to go back with you," she guessed.
"I believe it would be beneficial."
She took a deep breath. "Okay. How does this work? You didn't get here in a car."
"Close your eyes," he said. "Dean says it helps to bend your legs."
"Hold on a second." She pushed the box of books into her closet and put Faith under her pillow. "Okay, I'm ready."
He reached out two fingers and pressed them lightly to her forehead.
"Jesus Christ!" Scott jumped back several feet when they appeared a mere foot in front of him.
They were in the Hale's living room—everyone, even Peter—and all of them were staring at her with unkind expressions and a few hateful ones, save Sam and Dean who were standing off in a corner. Lydia wished Castiel would've zapped them over there instead of the center of the room.
"Look who decided to show up," Jackson said venomously, taking a few steps away from the wall.
She decidedly ignored him.
"Dean? Sam? Could I talk to you?" She didn't wait for them to answer before she went outside. She kept walking, picking her way through the dark, until she was far enough away that she didn't think any of the wolves would be able to hear.
"What is it?" Dean asked.
"I have to…there's something I have to tell you. Something I should've told you sooner."
Dean took a step closer, turning his head slightly to look at her sideways. "Like what?"
She patted her palms against her legs. "You know…Stiles lost his mom," she said. Where had that come from?
"We figured as much," Sam said. "What does that have to do with it?"
"It was an aggressive type of cancer," she rambled on. "There was nothing they could've done to stop it. That's why Stiles keeps his hair cut so short. Because of his mom." She chewed her lip for a second. "And Jackson's parents both died in a car crash. His mom was…she was dead. The doctors had to perform a caesarean section to save him. And Derek's family was blown all to Hell because of Kate Argent, and Scott's dad was no good and just up and left one day, but he was better off without him there, and Isaac's mom died and that destroyed his dad, and Allison's mom killed herself because she was bitten by Derek, but it was self-defense and him trying to save Scott and Allison's in the process of forgiving him, so please don't stomp back in and freak out because they'd kill me if they knew I was telling you any of this." She shifted her gaze between the two of them before continuing.
"Jackson wasn't always a werewolf. When he first got the bite, he turned into something else: a kanima. It was like a lizard thing. He wasn't in control of himself—literally, someone else was controlling him—and he killed people. But we fixed him that's all you need to know and if you want details, I can tell you later or you can ask someone else." She took a deep breath. "That and the part about Derek biting Victoria weren't really relevant to what I'm about to say.
"My parents are divorced," she continued. "It's been several years now, but their marriage was never good. They tried holding it together for appearances, but that only worked for so long. See, the problem was, my mom had cheated on my dad. It was one time and she never saw the guy again, but it tore my family apart. I tore them apart—I wasn't my father's daughter. That's why I chose to stay with my mom, because I thought my dad hated me, or hated who I'd come from, which was bad enough."
"Lydia, what does this have to do with anything?" Dean asked.
"You know my father," she said. "Knew."
Sam frowned. "We did?"
She closed her eyes before she said it. "My father was John Winchester. I'm your sister."
Her words dropped like a bomb, and silence followed afterward, stretching on for a nerve-rackingly long time. "Say something?" she peeped.
"You're our sister," Dean said incredulously.
She nodded. "I was reading your book series. I stayed home because I was starting to freak out and I just wanted to find out about you two because we're actually related and you hunt evil together and…and I was mad. I wasn't when I first put it together, and I'm not now and I know it was irrational because you didn't even know I existed and neither did John, to be honest, but I still felt so abandoned, I couldn't deal with it."
"You're sure?" Dean asked. "Absolutely positive?"
"There was Adam," Sam said quietly. "Who says Dad didn't have more than one fling?"
"Yeah, but he visited him. It's not like him to…"
"To what? You heard her, he didn't know she was ever born. If her mom never called, how could he have?"
"How long have you known?" Dean asked.
"When you said John Winchester was your father. At the Argents'."
"It could be a different John Winchester."
"Dean, come on," Sam said.
Lydia frowned. "Do you have a picture of him? I could show my mom."
"Lydia, no offense, but that's the last thing we need," Dean said.
"I wouldn't tell her where I got it," she said, surprised they would even consider that. "I'd be careful about it."
"Actually," Sam said. "We could ask her."
Dean gave his brother an Are-you-serious? look.
"We go as FBI, tell her we're trying to track him down, and see if she knows him."
"I like Sam's idea," Lydia said immediately.
"And if it's a different John Winchester?" Dean asked.
"Then we can forget I ever said anything."
"Alright." Dean shifted his weight to his other leg. "Let's do this."
"Now?" It was Sam's turn to give him an are-you-serious? look.
"Better to get it figured out and done with," he said.
"I want to come with."
The brothers turned their heads in sync to stare at Lydia.
"Is that a good idea?" Dean asked.
"I want to be there," she said. "I'll wait in the car, just…I need to be there."
"I'll get Cas," Sam volunteered.
"Yes?" Ms. Martin opened the door and glanced between Sam and Dean. They'd taken the time to go back to the motel and change into suits.
"Good evening, Ms. Martin," Sam said. "I'm Agent Washington, this is my partner, Agent Hedfield." They flashed their badges briefly.
"How can I help you?"
"We're looking for someone, and we believe you may have met him before. It would've been a while ago."
Dean pulled a picture out of his pocket. "His name's John Winchester. Recognize him?"
She took the picture delicately from him, perfectly manicured nails reflecting the porch light. Her jaw tightened when Dean said his name.
"Can I ask why you're looking for him?"
"He didn't do anything wrong," Sam said. "We just think he might be in some trouble."
She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't remember ever meeting him."
It would've been damn nice if Dean believed her.
"Are you sure? Take your time. We heard he was in town over ten years ago."
She shook her head and passed the picture back to him. "I don't know him."
Sam nodded. "Thank you for your time. Have a good night."
Heading back to the Impala, Dean said, "She was lying through her teeth."
"I know." Sam flicked his hair back. "So what d'you think?"
"I think the Winchester family tree just keeps getting bigger," Dean said. "But we should find out for sure."
"Maybe ask Lydia's dad?"
"He wouldn't have reason to lie."
"She's lying," Lydia said when Sam and Dean got back in the car. Cas had said he would stay at the Hales', despite Dean's protests. He still didn't trust the fucking werewolves.
"We know?" Sam said.
"Where does your dad live?"
"The other side of town," Lydia said. "Are you going to ask him?"
"We just want to be positive," Sam said.
Lydia's father was more than happy to rat Sam and Dean's father out.
"Yeah, I saw the guy," he said. "He ruined my marriage."
"How did he do that?" Dean asked.
"If I tell you, who else is gonna hear about it?"
"Not the public," Sam promised.
"He got my wife pregnant. We'd been trying for several months, then this dick comes along and knocks her up and skips town the next day. I don't want my daughter to become the talk of the town again—"
"Don't worry, no one will find out about this," Sam said reassuringly. "Do you know where he went?"
"No idea. I'm sorry I couldn't help you find him. He is nothing but trouble."
"Thanks for your time," Dean said.
"So?" Lydia piped up from the backseat.
"Welcome to the family," Dean remarked smartly.
"I'm not going to start wearing plaid every day now," she said.
Dean smirked and pulled away from the curb. There were worse people who could've been his sibling.
Back at the Hales', everyone was in the living room except Cas and Derek.
"Where's Cas?" Dean asked.
"He's in the kitchen with Derek," Stiles said. Dean didn't miss it when he and Lydia locked eyes for several seconds.
Cas was standing by the fridge and Derek by the stove, still looking somewhat uneasy. It wasn't as if Cas was going to do anything to him, though Dean would've liked it if that wasn't out of the range of possibility.
"Cas, did you know about Lydia?"
"What about her?"
"Not the immunity."
"I know she has a secret. Or had, it would seem."
Dean let out a breath of relief. Cas hadn't been lying to them.
Lydia appeared by Dean's side, Sam in tow. "Derek. I know you're not overly fond of Sam and Dean, and you might get really pissed off when you hear this."
"I'm not angry that you didn't come with us," Derek said. "In fact, it was a bit of a relief. What wasn't okay was that you didn't care about what happened," he said.
"I know." She tapped two fingers on Sam's sleeve. "I did care, for the record. But that's not what I need to tell you. Will you come into the living room? Please? Then I can just say this once."
Cas was staring at Lydia's hand on the sleeve of Sam's suit so hard Dean thought it might burst into flames, and then a tiny, "Oh," escaped his lips. His eyes latched onto Dean's. "I remember now."
"And you didn't think to ever tell us?" Dean said with a scowl, because of course Cas used to know. He'd been hiding things from them before Purgatory. "Someone other than Adam?"
"It never came up," he said. "Dean, Lydia is…this is much bigger than what you're seeing. There are things she doesn't know about herself, about her immunity—"
"You can tell me later," Dean said. "We need to get in there."
Cas grabbed Dean's arm. "Are you angry with me?"
"Yes." Dean heaved a sigh. "No. I just…I'm frustrated." He wasn't even sure what he was, he just wished Cas would've told him about this before. Before the Leviathans, before working with Crowley. Around the time they met Adam would've been nice. It would've been easier to digest. "Let's go." He settled his hand at the small of Cas' back, and when they walked in, Lydia started to speak.
"Well. I know I've been acting…odd since Sam, Dean, and Cas showed up, and yesterday I…I…oh, fuck it," she muttered, running a hand once through her hair. "I'm Sam and Dean's half-sister."
