Scott stopped the car in front of his house and immediately saw Malia and Braeden with the Desert Wolf. Scott hesitated between the house and the fight, Lydia sprinting right past him into the house. Liam and Kira nodded to their Alpha.

"Go help Stiles, we got this!"

Scott nodded gratefully before following Lydia.

His house was destroyed and his heart momentarily sank at the knowledge that his mother couldn't afford to fix it all. His mind was cleared of everything, however, when sobbing met his ears. Making his way to the origin of the noise, the werewolf entered the living room to see Lydia and the sheriff crouching over a prone body on the floor.

There was scattered glass from the glass table that they had had since he was young. Scott couldn't count how many times his mother had told Stiles off for putting his feet on the clean glass but now… His best friend was laying on the wreckage of glass and metal, head cradled in his father's hands and glass speared through his chest. There was a towel pressed to the wound, around the glass, that was already soaked through.

Scott's chest filled with dread as he came to stand behind Lydia, the sheriff already calling to him.

"Scott we have to get him off the glass, he's not breathing we have to get him breathing again."

Scott nodded in understanding. They had to be careful not to move the spear of glass but they couldn't perform CPR with the risk of putting any more shards through him.

Scott hurriedly took Stiles lower half while the sheriff took his shoulders and head, both lifting the teenager from the glass to the carpet away from the mess. Lydia scrambled to get the backpack off of Stiles before they set him down, John immediately starting compression's.

John felt a few tears trail down his cheeks as he laced his fingers over his son's chest, blood already staining his skin. He pushed rhythmically down on his boys sternum and grunted out to Scott.

"Call an ambulance, we can't wait for the others to get rid of that coyote woman, as long as they can keep her away from the EMT's it will be enough. Call them now."

Scott pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed while Lydia sobbed, clutching Stiles' hand so hard her knuckles were white.

John continued counting out his compression's and turned to the scared Banshee.

"Lydia I need you to breathe for him okay? Two breaths when I stop compression's, ready?"

The girl nodded and waited till the man stopped before leaning over and taking Stiles face in her hands. She titled his head back and held his nose like she knew she was supposed to. Her pink lips pressed to his blue ones and pushed air into his chest before she lent back and let the sheriff resume compression's. She couldn't stop crying. His lips had felt so cold on hers and his hand was limp and heavy. She could feel how close he was, how thin the thread of life was. He was barely holding on.

"Stiles, please don't go. I can't live in a world without you, I can't lose anyone else. Please don't leave me." She couldn't hold this pain in, the agony of his imminent death threatening to split her chest in two. She could barely breathe when he wasn't. The Sheriff's own sobs came out as he continued to pump down on his child's chest, trying desperately to get him to breathe again. But he was losing too much blood.

Scott was barely listening to the woman on the phone because all he could hear was his brother's heart beat tripping over itself trying to keep going. It was weak and slow. And then it stopped.

"No! Stiles!"

Lydia screamed the boy's name as she knelt next to him, doing everything she could to keep the scream inside. But the banshee in her would not be calmed, much like Scott's wolf as he howled.

The Sheriff looked at the two in shock, placing his shaking fingers against Stiles' pale neck, before breaking down into sobs as he felt nothing.

"No Stiles, come on son, you don't get to leave me. I'm not losing you too, come back to me."

He could no longer see through his tears but the father placed his hands back on his kid's chest as he tried to breathe through his sobs and tried to get his kids heart going again. His hands pushed, feeling the strain on Stiles' ribs as he did so but he did not give up. He would not let this world take his son. He was still so young, still just a kid, and he was not going to give up on him.

The EMT's arrived, hurtling through the door and coming towards the wreckage. One of the medics took over for The Sheriff, another one placing ambu bag over Stiles' mouth and nose while the third got the defibrillator charged up. John watched his sons shirt being cut open, the bruises his hands had made already blooming across the pale chest even as it was smeared with blood. He moved back to let the EMT's do their work and silently apologized to his son for leaving him. He wanted, more than anything, to just hold his little boy in his arms, alive and safe. He wanted his little boy to be okay.

Scott could hardly breathe through the pain of losing his brother but stood to take Lydia in his arms, dragging her away from the body on the floor, so that the medics could take care of him. The banshee did not want to move an inch from her human but Scott's strong hands gathered her to his chest.

Lydia started crying harder when the whine of the defibrillator pierced the air. She held her breath in terror as she watched them bring the paddles to Stiles' chest, yelling 'Clear!' as they sent electricity arching through his prone chest.

Lydia jumped in the alphas arms as she watched Stiles chest jerk upwards before it slumped back to the floor with a thump. It was as if she was being shocked along with him, her whole body tensing in Scott's arms as they watched their pack mate.

After four sickening shocks Scott could finally hear something. It was small, fluttery and weak but it was there. A heartbeat.

(sorry this is so shit im kind of hung over)