'Scott,' Lydia breathes heavily, as if she's been running, 'where the hell is Stiles?'

Scott's ears ring dimly and the clearing seems to get bigger and bigger. He puts a hand out to steady himself against the nearest tree trunk but misses and stumbles over.

Scott?

He's sweating like crazy and his blood is pounding through his veins, roaring at his temples. He hasn't lost control of the wolf for such a long time; he'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Though the light is fading fast it's still only the middle of the afternoon and despite this, Scott can feel the pull of the moon and his desire to cry out to it builds.

Scott? Please, talk to me.

The black smoke, he tries to choke out, the black smoke that took Stiles away, it's poisoned me. The words turn to black blood on his tongue and he spits it out in disgust. His control is slowly slipping and he wants to tell Lydia to run but instead he falls to his hands and knees; it's only when he looks down at his fingers that he sees his claws are out. His predatory instinct takes over and the rational, human part of Scott's mind slips away.

His vision goes red and zeroes in on Lydia.

The weather changes quickly and the speed and intensity of it alerts Lydia to the fact that it's a distinctly supernatural transformation. The clearing, which had been dappled with sunlight when she'd arrived, is now shrouded in mist. It makes the air damp to the touch as the temperature drops drastically causing a shiver to trace its way down Lydia's spine.

Lydia squints as if to help her see through the sudden blanket of white. It takes a few seconds before she finally spots Scott, the blood red of his eyes glowing through the mist.

'Scott?'

Her mind still doesn't quite want to believe what it's seeing and it outright rejects the sight of one of her closest friends as a rabid killer. Not after the struggle Scott had been through to make sure his morals always won out over his wolf nature.

As Lydia turned to sprint as fast as she could through the clearing - twisting her ankle in the process, just about the only downside to living by the rule 'if they're lower than 5 inches they're unacceptable as footwear'- as she runs an old memory pops into her head.

'A mountain lion,'

Stiles picks up her stuffed giraffe from where it sits on the bedside table, 'what's this?'

'A mountain lion.'

Stiles had told her once that she'd cracked the first time she'd ever heard of the supernatural because she was simultaneously too smart to accept what she was seeing and too smart to not accept what she was seeing. Lydia had a better explanation; she hadn't been able to cope. That Lydia - the one she had pretended to be for so long - was drawn to destruction and danger. The real Lydia was cautious and it wasn't hard to admit: the supernatural fucking terrified her, even after all this time. In fact, more so now, she had lost her best friend and watched her boyfriend turn into a killer and a monster; she had almost died and woken up as something she didn't understand and she had shared the emotional fear of being terrorised by the Nogitsune.

As she runs from Scott she knows that in this state he isn't himself, purely relying on his senses. When Lydia comes to a small body of water (shoes be dammed), she crosses over and follows the crumbling bank for two minutes before crossing again. She knows that his sense of smell will be strongest; therefore masking her trail with running water ought to slow him down.

Lydia comes to a stop, resting her back against the side of a tree trunk; heart beating fast and frown plastered across her face. She had heard nor seen any signs of Scott since she had left the Nemeton and she knew it was unlikely she had lost him that easily. Pulling out her phone to alert the remaining members of the pack, her fingers are shaking too much to type; then she hears his howl and the ferocity of it resonates through the forest.

The text is only half written as she shoves her phone back in her pocket and takes off running again.

Her breath is ragged in her chest, her skin is sticky and her legs are weak when she decides she can't run anymore, leaning against a tree for support. As she wipes her forehead with her wrist she looks up to take in her surroundings.

Shit. How did she end up back at the Nemeton? Scott's scratches, snuffles and howls are not far behind her. Lydia knew she was not fast enough to outrun him, she just hoped to get through to him before he harmed her, just as much for his sake as for hers and here at this gnarled old tree root that had caused so much bother was where she would make her stand.

Scott was on the edge of the clearing now, circling. Lydia climbed on top of the tree stump itself as if it would give her some form of protection.

There is a single moment of silence as Scott, no, the wolf, turns his head to look at her. Then he comes running at full tilt towards her. Lydia, knowing that she cannot protect herself closes her eyes and throws out both palms towards him. She feels power burst from her hands and when she opens her eyes she is surprised to see Scott on the floor on the edge of the glade. He lets out a little whine which turns into a growl and Lydia prepares herself once more.

It's then that she hears a noise outside of the tree line. Scott's ears perk up and his growls become louder. Lydia hopes that means whoever is coming opposes Scott. An enemy of my enemy is my friend she thinks hopefully.

Together Kira and Malia burst through the boundary of trees, Kira wielding her katana and Malia baring her teeth.

'Thank you for coming guys, how did yo-'

Her words are drowned out by Scott's whimpers. It's only then that she realises Kira is holding out a burning flower, the smoke wafting towards him - sprig of wolfsbane.

'Woah, Kira what are you doing?' Lydia asks.

'Don't worry, Deaton gave it to us. It's mild, it's used to draw the human side out; reverse the transformation.'

'But how did you know what was happening?'

Malia grinned, 'Derek heard his howl! He said it wasn't Scott but the wolf inside. He went to check out the other side of the woods but obviously coyotes have superior smell.'

Scott has fully transformed back now and was looking between the three of them in confusion. His eyes stopped on Lydia.

'Lydia... I'm sorry.'

'It's okay Scott, it wasn't you' she smiles at him.

His brows are still pulled down in confusion, 'I was still inside but I couldn't break through, the wolf had complete control. Lydia, you had powers, you pushed me back and your eyes were glowing.'

'I've awoken something; I can still feel the power. I need to read the bestiary and then we need to find Stiles.'

'Stiles is gone?' Malia asks, worry etched on her features.

'He disappeared in black smoke,' Scott says, 'let's meet back at Deaton's in an hour.'

'I'm sorry,' says Scott for the fifteenth time since she'd turned up at the veterinary clinic, a shower and a fresh change of clothes later.

'Scott,' she places a hand on his chest, 'stop.'

On the table in front of them is the bestiary, strangely Lydia had been able to touch it when she'd gotten back. The frightening aura she had previously encountered had changed into something much more calming. She had tried to tap into her powers once more but realised quickly that it was futile without an emotional stimulus and something to direct the power towards. Besides she didn't really want to be responsible for destroying her house with banshee powers.

She's more worried about Stiles than anything else, the connection she has to him pulling in her chest, demanding her to find him, to be near him.

'Is there any way...' Lydia begins, stopping after throwing a guilty glance in Malia's direction.

'Go on,' the brunette gives her an encouraging smile which seems to say I can handle it.

'Is there any way we can use the connection between stiles and I to find him.'

'That's actually not a bad idea Lydia,' Deaton praises her, 'though to do so will not be easy, firstly it needs to be a full moon and we all know the problems with that. Secondly, you'll need to be in a trance, Lydia and you will need to have a guide. I'd suggest Scott but after what happened today I can't guarantee that the same won't happen on the full moon. Lastly, when you find out where he is you need to be able to leave there. If you go inside you will be in danger.'

'I can be her guide,' Kira suggests, 'everyone else will be busy preparing for the full moon,' she gives Lydia a shy smile.

'I agree,' says Deaton.

The next full moon is just over a week and a half later and it takes its toll on Lydia. The pull inside her gets stronger with every day, often to the point that becomes frantic and panicked about the situation. It's during these episodes that her friends notice her eyes glowing purple. They calm her as best they can but there are times they need to help her sleep and they worry that Stiles is going through the same thing.

There are occasions that Lydia brings the bestiary out and starts to translate it but her mind is so jumbled and she's so tired that she can hardly get past the first line. She realises that in order to make any headway, she must be in a calm state of mind and to achieve that they must first get Stiles back.

It's the night before the full moon when they are attacked whilst patrolling the perimeter of Beacon Hills and it's Kira who has the worst injuries. The pack decides she needs to rest instead of going scouting with Lydia leaving only Malia with full strength and her control over her shift intact. Both Lydia and Malia agree to the new situation and tension builds as night draws closer.

They meet back at Deaton's, both girls are quiet and Lydia wonders if Malia feels the same nervous anticipation that she does. Together they prepare what they need for the spell, working from Deaton's notes. They begin the ritual when the white orb peaks its head through the wispy clouds in the darkening sky. Deaton works the spell and Malia grips Lydia's hand as she falls into a trance.

Deaton silently prompts Malia to read the words on the paper he gave her earlier.

'Lydia, I want you to picture the string that connects you to Stiles. I want you to follow the string. Show me where he is.'

Her words have an instantaneous effect on the strawberry blonde; Lydia's eyes fly open, her pupils shining purple. Her grip tightens on Malia's hand before she pulls her along, running to save the life of Stiles Stilinski.