All she could see was a bright white glare. Her eyes blinked open slowly, the light painful in her head, making her brain feel as if it were on fire. She felt drowsy and tired, but a sense that she needed to remember something important plagued her.
"Lydia..." the voice sounded distant, echoing in her ears. "Lydia." It came again, most insistent but still far away.
"Derek..." she muttered drowsily, slowly turning her head as she tried to focus her eyes, but her head spun dizzily. "Allison... Jackson..." Memories began coming back to her, creeping up and spilling over as she regained consciousness. The kanima about to kill her, his claws stabbing into her stomach, Derek saving her life and taking a silver arrow from Allison's bow in the process, Allison sobbing and apologizing for shooting her best friend who was defending the werewolf she wanted to kill. Gerard escaping...
"Derek," she stated more firmly, the glare beginning to fade as she tried to push herself up. She was in a hospital room, dressed in one of those hideous cotton gowns decorated in pale green flowers that made her sicker than the rest of the situation. Her head spun as she tried to sit up, and a hand gently stopped her, pushing her back in the bed.
"Lydia," came the voice from her daydream, and her eyes focused on the nurse at her bedside. "You're alright. You've been out for a little while. You fainted from blood loss, and we gave you a sleeping pill to put you to sleep while we put in your stitches."
"Twenty-one total!" chirped another nurse, dressed similarly to the first but with grayer hair and strong yet aged hands. "You were a trooper." She smiled a motherly smile that soothed Lydia despite the gnawing knot in her stomach.
"My friends..." she began, but the older nurse shushed her gently.
"Your friends are in the waiting room. We'll tell them it's okay to come in." The older woman nodded with a smile and left with the first nurse to summon the others.
Friends, the nurse had said. But Derek had looked so sick from the silver arrow to his back. Could he possibly be here? Maybe he'd followed them to the hospital, and she'd fainted too soon to see him coming after them. Worry spread in her chest as she pictured his paling face as the arrow stabbed into his back, inches above piercing his heart and surely taking his life. She felt the stubble of his cheeks against her palms as she caught him as he cried out from shock at the attack.
"Lydia!" exclaimed Allison, the other girl's voice breaking her out of her thoughts. Rushing to her bedside, Allison awkwardly touched her arm but withdrew her hand timidly, not knowing how to comfort her friend when she'd been the very one to wound her. "I'm... I'm so sorry, Lydia. I never meant to..."
"What did you tell the doctor?" Lydia asked immediately, her confident tone bringing Allison back to reality instead of blubbering all over her.
"They think we were at Prom and you spilled punch all over your dress because you were upset about your date leaving you. So we left and were shooting arrows at a picture of his face, and one of them went astray and hit you." Allison screwed up her mouth as Lydia began to laugh.
"And they actually believed you?" she asked incredulously, choking back her laughter as pain blossomed in her shoulder.
Allison smiled then, shrugging slightly, her wide mouth screwing up into a meek grin. "They actually did." She giggled then, her tension broken by Lydia's reaction to her cover story. "It wasn't like I could convince them you stabbed yourself with a mascara pen or something."
Lydia chuckled to herself, her laughter dying off as her mind went to the actual events. "Lydia, I'm really sorry."
"I know," she replied flatly. Looking up at her friend, she fixed her with her green eyes as she grew serious. "You meant to shoot Derek. To kill him."
The words hung between them for a moment as Allison broke their gaze and bit her bottom lip uncomfortably.
"You never followed my advice, Allison," Lydia continued, "You never got all of the facts. Or you would know that your grandfather was the one controlling the kanima. Derek saved my life - again - when your grandfather tried to make Jackson kill me." Her voice was devoid of tone as she struggled to keep her composure. Derek had saved her again, another point going to him.
Allison's brown eyes widened incredulously, and she began to shake her head, backing away from the hospital bed slightly. "No... he wouldn't... he hates supernatural creatures. He hunts them. He would never-"
"Well, he did. I have no reason to lie to you. He was there, he ordered Jackson to attack me, and he almost crushed my windpipe. He stabbed me in my stomach, and Derek was the one who took that pain away so I didn't bleed to death right there on the floor."
Self-consciously, her found felt around to the back of her neck, and she felt the dried blood in her hair. Apparently the doctors and nurses had been so focused on her shoulder, they hadn't noticed the scratches on the back of her neck. Thankfully, it had been more painful than serious, and it had already scabbed over and dried.
"Gerard..." Allison muttered, her voice full of emotion, regret. Lydia sighed and closed her eyes, tired from the events of the night. Behind Allison, the door opened and Lydia's heart jumped in her chest. A figure moved into the room, materializing into Jackson, and she felt her heart fall slightly, realizing somewhere in her subconscious that he wasn't the one she'd wanted to see walk through the door.
Allison stepped to the side so he could read the bedside as Lydia watched him with her penetrating green eyes. True remorse marred his features, a look she'd never seen on him before. He didn't look at her as he began speaking, "I just remembered all of those things I did... All of those people I killed..." His eyes squeezed tight and his face soured with the pain of the memories of things he did that were beyond his control. Lydia felt sympathy wash over her, and she felt like crying as she watched him so upset.
"It wasn't me, but I did it. I did horrible things," he whispered, a tear spilling over his eyelid and rolling silently down his face as he finally looked her in the eye. "I almost killed you..." The anguish in his voice broke her heart, and she began to tear up, nodding since she couldn't find her voice to respond.
"Lydia, I'm so sorry..." leaning over, he impulsively kissed her, and without intending to, she got a vivid flashback of kissing the kanima. Its scaly mouth on hers, feeling its sharp teeth beneath those lips, but Jackson's lips were soft and familiar, safe. Naturally, as if falling into a habit, she kissed him back, her eyes closing and one hand raising to touch his stubbly cheek...
Her eyes snapped open suddenly, and she gasped slightly, causing him to pull away from her with worry in his gray-blue eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"No, it's... it's fine," she assured him, offering him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Allison cleared her throat uncomfortably and smiled awkwardly over Jackson's shoulder from where she'd moved next to the window. "I'm just going to head home. We'll talk later." Her eyes told Lydia she wanted - needed - to talk more about her grandfather, but now wasn't the time. Lydia smiled at her as she waved and departed.
Jackson's hand slid into hers, and he pulled her hand up to his mouth to kiss her fingers. She smiled weakly and gently pulled her hand from his grasp.
"Lydia, I... love you," he managed, looking at her tenderly, so unsure of himself and so unlike the Jackson she'd always known that his behavior threw her off guard. "I need you. You saved me. I would still be that thing without you. Please promise me you won't leave me ever again."
She looked up at him and saw that sadness in his eyes, the sadness of realizing he'd killed so many innocent people, that he'd been a monster. Reaching toward him, she squeezed his hand and smiled reassuringly. Her heart didn't leap as it once had when she'd touched him or kissed him, but she felt she was on familiar ground. This felt safe and habitual, and she'd been so out of sorts lately, it was refreshing to feel like something was normal in her life... Even if it didn't make her heart burn with passion as it once had.
"I won't leave you, Jackson."
Everything was soft and sweet as if he was floating in a sea of sugar and red hair and green eyes. Smiling to himself, Derek reached for her, saw her floating toward him as his tongue tasted the air, it tasted like chocolate candy. Lydia smiled at him, her strawberry blond hair drifting delicately around her face in a halo, her green eyes glowing as they did when she wore her green Prom dress. Her smile was only for him, and she reached for him, the tips of her soft fingers brushing his rough skin. He reached for her, grabbing for her petite body to pull it close to his, but she drifted away from him, unreachable yet so close.
"Lydia..." he whispered, his voice weaker and quieter than he wanted. He tried to yell her name as she drifted farther away, but he couldn't make his voice any louder, and she only grew farther and farther away. He screamed until his voice was gone completely, and she disappeared into the pale mist, disappearing into the light.
With a gasp, Derek woke up to a bright white light shining in his eyes. Squinting against the painful glare, he tried to get off of the table where he laid, but firm hands pressed on his shoulders, immobilizing him. As his eyes focused, he recognized Doctor Deaton and felt an injection enter his arm with a slight twinge. Frowning, he blinked his eyes and focused on the room, recognizing the inside of the veterinarian's laboratory.
"Easy, easy," the vet cautioned. As he spoke the words, Derek felt his head spin and he lurched over the side of the table, retching on the floor. Falling back on the table, he grimaced apologetically.
"Sorry..." he croaked, to which the doctor merely smiled and shook his head.
"It's only natural. You've got silver poisoning. This is the first time you've been fully awake in a week."
A week. A week had passed since that night at the Prom, since Gerard had tried to kill Lydia and almost succeeded. Since Lydia had kissed Jackson and broken the kanima curse. A week since he'd realized he didn't consider the petite redhead just a necessary ally in his quest to save the people of Beacon Hills from death at the hands of the kanima.
"A week..." he repeated weakly, his head rolling back and forth on the table as he turned to look up at the doctor who'd vowed to his mother to protect him. "Is...everyone..." He couldn't find the right words to ask what he wanted to ask, so he trailed off impotently.
"Jackson is back to his usual self, at least a bit repentant, it seems," the doctor explained slowly, his words dragging out too slowly for Derek's taste. "And Lydia was released from the hospital today."
Relief spread over him quicker than he'd imagined, and he felt lightheaded. "Lay back now. You, on the other hand, are not fully healed."
As he lay down on the table, Derek furrowed his brow and examined the vet's face. "You said it was silver poisoning?" He remembered vividly, Allison's arrow stabbing into his back, almost piercing his heart but missing by those precious inches that saved his life.
The veterinarian nodded as he swabbed the injection point and threw away the old needle. "The arrow you were shot with was silver, as well you know, and it just missed your heart. Fortunately, the silver didn't get into your bloodstream, or you would be dead. Unfortunately, all werewolves are allergic to silver and it weakens your healing properties. So, it's as if you've had the flu for a week, and you're just beginning to heal."
"So you've been feeding me chicken soup through an iv?" Derek asked, half-joking in his still-sick state. The doctor snorted silently and smiled, gently patting Derek's shoulder as he turned to retrieve an iv bag filled with clear fluids, plugging it into the port on the werewolf's arm.
"You'll be healed soon, but until then, you need to take it easy. Doctor's orders," Deason chided with an easygoing smile. "No more stress than necessary."
Two days later, Derek sat in silence in the abandoned train warehouse that had become his home after Peter's - temporary - death. Flipping absently through a history book, one of the many Lydia had used in her research into Jackson's family history, he slammed the book closed and tossed it away in irritation. He was restless and irritable, easily perturbed. Isaac and Boyd had gotten into a wrestling match earlier that day that had managed to tip over one of the derelict train cars, and Derek had railed on them until they both scurried away, claiming they had homework so they could escape him. Erica had attempted to cheer him up by flirting with him in her usual manner, but he'd turned her away with a snort, telling her to go chase after Stiles and to leave him alone.
In short, he was pissy.
The metal door to the warehouse clanging shut caught his ear, and he rose smoothly from his seat, his senses heightened as he realized he wasn't alone.
Lydia cringed as the door slammed shut behind her, memories of her first adventure to this same warehouse coming back to her as she walked across the dirt-covered floor with her arms wrapped around herself. The air in the warehouse was cooler than outside - to suit the warm-blooded werewolves who lived within - and it chilled her. She didn't know why she was here, other than the simple fact she couldn't stand not knowing how he was. She knew he was alive since Scott had told her as much, but she had to see him. She had to see for herself that he was okay.
Derek stepped out of the bus where he spent much of his time, and her throat constricted. Swallowing heavily, she forced her heart rate to slow down so as not to give herself away. His jaw was set and his skin seemed paler than usual, but other than that, he was back to his usual grouchy self. Unable to resist, she smiled and her arms fell to her sides, her hands tapping a random rhythm on her hips.
"You're okay," she stated obviously, biting her lower lip and feeling so much relief to see him standing and breathing that she could hardly contain herself.
"So are you," he replied, his hard look softening as he leaned against the doorway to the bus and watched her approach him.
"I wanted to thank you," she continued, glancing around the warehouse before finding her eyes drifting back to him, "For saving my life. And for helping me save Jackson."
His jaw twitched, tightening, at the last sentence but he didn't comment. Instead, he nodded and looked away from her into the dark shadows on the edges of the warehouse. Lydia took a deep breath and swung back and forth from her toes to her heels and back again, her arms swinging gently at her sides.
"Allison won't be a problem anymore," she added, "She knows the truth about Gerard."
Derek snorted soundlessly and nodded his head, his arms crossed over his chest as he fumed silently. Frowning, Lydia took a step closer to him, annoyed by him ignoring her. She missed the playful side of him she'd seen as they worked together to solve the mystery of the kanima curse. She hated seeing him so stoic, especially to her. Before she could touch him, his gaze swiveled and locked on her, drawing her up short. His ice blue eyes cut into her, freezing her in place and making her heart beat too fast.
"Why are you still here, Lydia?" he asked harshly, his arms uncrossing as he took one step closer to her, closing the gap between them by one more foot.
Her mouth dropped open to answer, but she realized she had no reason. She'd only wanted to make sure he was okay, had needed to see he was okay. Other than that, she couldn't admit to having a better excuse. The tension between them swelled into a palpable thing in that moment, and she self-consciously tucked a curl of her strawberry blond hair behind her ear as she searched for a justification to her actions. She would excuse it away as trying to carry out Peter's plan, but she knew that wasn't true. The thought of the plan turned her stomach - the thought of betraying Derek in such a way - and she stopped rocking on her toes, her green eyes widening as she stared hopelessly back into those ice blue eyes.
She couldn't feel this way about him. It would only hurt him. Just like she would only hurt Stiles, she could only hurt Derek if she allowed her head and her heart to keep playing these tricks on her. If he fell in love with her, if he ever even started feeling anything for her, Peter would make her kill him. It may not be tomorrow or even next year, but eventually, he would command her to do it, and how would she resist? Perhaps he could even possess her again somehow, or kill her parents, or something far worse she couldn't even imagine. One way or another, his plan would be successful.
She couldn't let that happen.
Derek took another step toward her, and her heart sped up once more. She imagined the feel of his rough skin against hers, his stubbly face in her hands as he'd fallen over her when Allison's arrow pierced his back. The distance between them now was only a foot, and they could easily touch one another now. She found herself drawn toward him like a magnet, and her feet shifted forward without her permission. Her doe eyes stared up at him, her heart palpitating wildly in her chest and betraying her worse than anything she could say.
His hand reached out and brushed back her hair, cupping her face as he looked into her eyes with so much desire her knees went weak. "Why are you still here?" he asked again, his voice growing husky as he gently ran his fingers down her jawline. Trembling at his touch, she swallowed heavily and sucked a breath in between her lips, her mouth opening slightly in invitation despite her better judgement.
"I..." she began, her words draining away as he closed the space between them and his hard chest brushed her, her hand instinctively moving to his side, her eyes dropping from his to see his strong arms as his other hand moved to cup the other side of her face. He gently pulled her gaze upward so she was looking into those abyssal blue eyes, and she felt so weak she thought she might faint. He began leaning over, began kissing her, and her body ached to feel the touch of his lips on hers. As his eyes closed in preparation for the kiss, she felt herself leaning toward him, begging him to do it, thirsting to feel his mouth.
"I'm with Jackson," she blurted out suddenly, stopping him cold in place. His blue eyes snapped open and he released her so vehemently she almost stumbled backward. His body went rigged as he stepped away from her, and the instant chill between them hit her like a tsunami of ice. Her shoulders slumped visibly from the sudden change, freezing her desire for him so quickly it made her reel. Those blue eyes that had just been burning with want, burning with need to kiss her, were now ice cold, glaring daggers into her before he turned and stepped into the broken down bus.
"Good for you, Lydia." It was all he said before the bus rocked and he disappeared, the roaring howl of his alpha form reverberating in the warehouse and almost deafening her as he leapt into the shadows and melted away.