I apologize greatly in advance for the brevity of this chapter and how much of a shitbag I am. I hope that my chapters in the future will actually be up to length from now on, but I think I've been saying that for the last few chapters. Sorry about that.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing!

Chapter 15: A Story to Tell

Lydia stared at the ceiling of the Hospital Wing, eyes vacant, body limp, but flinching at ever small noise that reverberated through the huge room. Her side was a mass of bandages, blood seeping through the white gauze even though Madame McCall had worked tirelessly for hours to find a spell that would stitch her skin back together. It refused her magic in every possible way, pulsing and oozing as if venom forced the wound to stay wide.

Bumbling around, Melissa kept all unnecessary occupants from the room. She kept it as quiet as possible so Lydia wouldn't go off again. A few hours after Melissa had settled her into bed, another student had started to kick his bed with all his force to bring feeling back to his magically numbed leg. Melissa could have killed both him and the fifth year that had cast the charm. Lydia had started screaming with all her force, kicking from the bed and shooting spells off in every direction, shattering glasses and dismantling cots.

It had taken Stiles, dead eyed, Scott, horrified, Melissa and Deaton to stop her, and get her back into bed. Even after that, Stiles had had to whisper softly to her for an hour before she'd fully calmed down enough for Madame McCall to dress her wounds again and pry her wand from her fingers.

Quietly entering the room, Stiles found his way to Lydia's bedside, taking his place in the chair that was usually filled by either Stiles, Danny, Jackson or one of the others in their ragtag group of friends. Even Derek took his turn keeping her company. It was strange to find the spot empty, but really, what was normal about the whole situation in the first place?

Leaning forward gingerly, he slid a small cup of vanilla pudding that he'd stolen from the Great Hall onto the table tray. Next to it, he placed a chocolate frog. "I thought you might want something sweet," Stiles muttered, sitting back.

Lydia's eyes fell on the sweets, but hardly focused. Reaching out, she pulled the bowl towards her, wincing as the movement pulled at the bite wounds. They sat in silence while she methodically sucked pudding from the spoon. It'd only been a few moments before she spoke around the spoon. "Laura was the one who bit me," she told him, eyes still dull, voice without inflection.

Stiles looked at her, eyes as unsurprised as his voice when he spoke. "What do you mean?" Somehow, after everything that had happened, after the death of the Hale pack and now Laura's death, Derek's new alpha status and Lydia's near death, nothing could surprise him.

"Laura, she was the one who bit me. She invited me to take a walk, asking if I could help her with a problem in the Forbidden Forest. I didn't question it because I'd helped her a few times before. She started asking me all these different questions about me and my relationships to everyone and my life. She told me I didn't smell as human as I looked, but not as different as you. Before I could ask her to explain she had gone on high alert," Lydia told Stiles slowly, fiddling with the chocolate frog, "One moment we were standing there, and the next, we were getting attacked. She was tumbling around with someone… something with crimson eyes. She… she changed into a wolf with the same red eyes, and that's when she bit me."

Lydia paused, staring more through the chocolate frog than at it. "The other thing stopped attacking for some reason, and Laura let go of me. It was like she was marking territory. Then, a fire whip shot between them. None of us knew who cast it. I'd pulled out my wand, ready to defend us, even the creature that'd been attacking us, but a sectumsempra curse tore the other thing's side open, and then, before any of us could run, the fire whip tore Laura in half."

She was quiet for a moment, shuddering as she remembered the way Laura's body had fallen back to the ground, human again, how her dead eyes had stared at her. Tears pushed at the edges of her lashes, looking for a release that Lydia would not allow. Even broken, she was too proud to cry. "I think the pain and shock made me pass out because when I came to, Kate and Gerrard were pouring lighter fluid all over her body. At least, I think it was lighter fluid. It smelled like it. You guys turned up before they could do anything more, but do you think… do you think they killed her? She was only a teenager like us. How could they do that? How could someone murder someone so young?"

"There's a strong possibility that they did kill her," Stiles whispered, bile rising in his throat, "They're sick people who hunt and kill things because they are not like us, because they're not human even though they act more human than the Argents ever have."

"According to Laura, we're not as human as we thought," Lydia said, finally focusing on him, "What was she? Was she –and are the rest of the Hales- …werewolves?"

Before Stiles could answer, Cora slipped into the room, her chest heaving, cheeks a ruddy mess, hair a tangled monstrosity flowing down her back. "Stiles-" she coughed, bending to press her hands to her knees. "Derek- Can't- Hold- Going- Crazy-" she huffed in gasping breaths, "Need- Help-"

Stiles didn't even want to know what had happened to put Cora, of all people, in the state she was in. Jumping to his feet, he paused, glancing to Lydia guiltily. He could only be in one place at a time.

Rolling her eyes, Lydia waved him off. "Go deal with your boyfriend. Cora, stay with me?" she asked, looking more hopeful than Stiles had ever seen her look.

Straightening and sucking in a breath, she nodded. "Sure," Cora said, "He's out by… Laura's cabin…" She dropped her eyes to her feet, scuffing her tennis shoes against the stones.

Stiles nodded, turning back to Lydia one last time. "Are you sure this is okay? Do you want me to bring you back something?"

She waved him off. "Go before Derek breaks something or someone," Lydia intoned, "Well, breaks more things." She patted the bed beside her for Cora to perch on. She summoned a comb, brush and perfume, and set to work on Cora's hair.

Needing no further push, Stiles turned, and bolted from the room.

…..

The screams of sorrow and pain that slammed against Stiles' ears had his body moving faster than he usually would. He skidded through the muddy fields, eyes focused on the roaring bonfire beside Laura's cabin. Shadows cast by the flames dances through the night. Slipping, dropping into the mud, Stiles scrambled up, tripping several more times before he made it to the fire.

"Derek!" he called, stopping as he stared at the belongings burning in the fire. Books and chairs and clothing all turned to ashes alongside each other. "Derek, stop!" He rushed forward as Derek stormed out with a photo album held high over his head, a scream on his lips and tears on his cheeks.

Derek's eyes flashed crimson, his body rippling with the effort to remain human, the album tumbling from his fingers. Photos snaked out from between the pages, slipping across the damp grass. Laura's and their families' and her friends' smiling faces glinted up at them in the roiling firelight.

Derek's fingers curled, his shoulders hunching and face elongating into a snout. Throwing his head back with a cry of agony, he fought against the transformation, something Stiles was positive he was not supposed to be attempting, not as a new alpha, not with the ability so fresh in his bones that every movement ached, not with his emotions running wild and rampant through his body.

"Derek," Stiles whispered, stepping without fear towards the boy more wolf than wizard. Grabbing his face and holding onto him as he tried to jerk away from Stiles' touch, he ran his thumbs over the moist skin of his cheeks. "You're fine. I know it hurts now, I know it will hurt for a long time, but it will get better, eventually it will get better. It always gets better."

Even as he spoke, his magic slid over Derek's skin, stilling him into silent agony. The crimson drained from his eyes, taking every ounce of energy he possessed with the color. He collapsed forward onto his knees, wrapping trembling arms around Stiles' waist, pressing his face into Stiles' stomach.

Sighing, Stiles turned his face towards the storm darkened sky, fingers carding through Derek's hair. This was something new that they'd found had come with Derek's new alpha status. As much as he could rage and snarl, leak power and magic, Stiles could calm him with a simple touch, reigning everything in until Derek was just a trembling mess of a boy.

He hadn't tried it with any of the other wolves they knew yet, though Cora always did seem calmer in his presence. Likewise, Malia and Peter seemed even more drawn to him than before, even if Peter, grudgingly and to Stiles' delight, backed off of his creepiness.

Sensing in some strange way, maybe in the stiffening of Derek's body, that there was someone hurtling towards them at top speed, Stiles' dropped his eyes to the line of the Forbidden Forest. In moments, a coyote with fur sticking up at every angle and sticky with blood flew from the tree line. Its familiar hazel eyes were wild, focusing on Stiles.

With quick, sure strides it approached them. One moment, the coyote was loping towards them, and in the next, Malia, naked as a newborn, strode towards them. "Stiles, Derek!" she shouted, her words just as wild as her eyes.

Heat rushed up Stiles' neck, burning his ears and cheekbones. Forcing his eyes to remain glued to her face, he called, "You can do a full transformation too? Since when?"

"Since always," Malia snapped, waiting impatiently as Derek rose to his feet, "That's not why I'm here. I need your help. Like, right now."

"You smell of blood and…" Derek's eyes narrowed, nose wrinkling with distaste, "Another alpha. Did you get into a fight? Are you hurt?"

"Yes and not as much as the alpha, I can say that much. I need your help though. He's hurt pretty badly, and I can't carry him on my own. I've already tried. He's too heavy, and he's all dead weight right now. If I wasn't hurt, I'd be able to manage it no problem, but I am, so…"

"Wait, hold on, back up. Who are you talking about? Who's hurt?" Stiles asked, trying desperately to keep up with her rapid speech.

Derek's eyes grew wide. The pair spoke at the same time, "Scott."

I think… that this may well be my shortest chapter to date for this story. Definitely the shortest. I haven't written something this short for maybe a year now. That's weird to think about. So, sorry for the length, sorry that I'm a terrible person/shitbag and don't post more frequently. I'd say I'd try to improve on that, but we all know that is a blatant lie.

P.S. – I'm probably going to pull my happy little usual trick and pull a pairing out of thin air for my own amusement. I don't know where it came from or how it came to be, but it should pop up in the next few chapters or so.