Writer's note: So sorry for the delayed updates, guys! I haven't managed to save any of my chapters but it's all up and running now and I'm excited to continue this story. Thank you so much for the kind reviews! Onto the next chapter!

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The past five hours were a complete blur for Stiles. He didn't remember a lot from leaving Scott and Kira at the diner to driving home, but he did have visions of being told Lydia was alive and was being transferred to a hospital in Hawaii. He recognised the detective who was at his home when he arrived after his father's news; it was the detective who helped him get through his panic attack at the airport after finding out Lydia's plane had crashed.

They escorted Stiles and his father to the closest airport and put them on a jet, along with some members of authority as well as the detective himself. They told Stiles that Lydia's mother and sister had been escorted to a jet ten minutes before. Stiles stared blankly through one of the jet windows and imagined Lydia doing the same before her plane went down. His skin grew cold and he wanted the flight to be over before it had even began.

Four hours had passed when the sheriff lightly shook Stiles' shoulder to wake him. Stiles hadn't slept, but he kept his eyes shut to rid his mind of all the crazy things that were running through it. He needed to tell Scott, the pack. They needed to know.

Stiles sat through a half an hour drive from Hawaii airport to the hospital and once the big building was sitting in front of him, his world had become real. Everything around him had become real. Lydia was inside that building...broken, injured, barely alive for all he knew. He needed to see her.

The detective and his officers escorted Stiles and the sheriff into the hospital, and the more halls they entered, the closer Stiles found himself walking next to his father. Stiles was glad he was here. He would have been a pile of mess on the floor without him.

Three doctors approached the detective and they began their own conversation that Stiles couldn't hear. He looked at his father with frustration and anticipation. He just wanted to see Lydia.

The detective mumbled something to the doctors and nodded his head before turning to face the Stilinski family.

"She was taken straight into surgery." The detective informed the father and son.

Stiles' heart dropped. "Surgery? What do you mean, surgery? What happened?"

The detective looked from Stiles to his father before pursing his lips. "It's a long, detailed story. Probably one that you won't want to hear, Stiles. Lydia went through a lot before she made it here."

Stiles almost stepped forward. "I want to know everything. Every little thing."

The detective stared at the sheriff, and Stiles was becoming impatient.

"Sheriff...can I have a word with you?" The detective asked.

Stiles looked between the detective and his father with bewilderment. "Why can't I know?! I have a right to know what happened to her!"

The sheriff placed a hand on Stiles shoulder before glaring at him. "Calm down. Just sit here and I'll find out what's going on, okay?"

Stiles felt his face turn red before looking into his father's eyes. He let his clenched fists relax before stepping backwards, glaring at the detective.

Stiles took a seat by the wall as he watched his father and the detective talk in private. Stiles felt his blood boil. How dare they keep anything from him? The love of his life was in surgery and he had no idea why. He didn't know what state Lydia was in, whether she was close to death or fine, he needed to know. He'd spent so long not knowing what had happened to her, no body to recover and now she was in this hospital, alive, being cut open and he had no freaking idea why. He felt tears burn his eyes.

All he wanted was to see her, hear her laugh. He wanted her to roll her beautiful green eyes at him and mock him for worrying so much. He wanted to feel her beautiful soft skin in his grasp, to see her long flourishing strawberry-blonde hair being tangled in the breeze. He wanted to hear her voice, any word. Just one word. He needed to hear her speak because without the sound of her voice in his life these past four weeks was driving him to insanity and it was eating him alive. He needed her. She was his life and he needed her desperately.

"Stiles."

Stiles snapped his head up and stared at his father who slowly took a seat next to him. The detective had disappeared along with the officers; it was just the sheriff and Stiles in the empty, white halls.

"Stiles, I don't think you should go in and see Lydia once she's out of surgery." The sheriff almost whispered.

Stiles glared at his father. "What?"

"She won't be the same, Stiles. The things she went through..." The sheriff swallowed. Stiles heard his voice break. "I just think it'll be too much for you, after everything you've gone through. I think you should let me go in there first."

"Dad, you can't do this to me." Stiles stood up and started pacing with anger. "I need to see her."

The sheriff looked at the floor, not a word spoken as Stiles' breathing picked up.

"I thought she was dead!" Stiles yelled, turning to face his father.

"Son..." The sheriff closed his eyes, the hurt and desperation in Stiles' voice too much for him to listen to. "If you knew what she went through, you'll understand-"

"Then tell me!" Stiles yelled. "Dad, just tell me-"

"She died, Stiles. She was dead." The sheriff snapped, looking up at his son. "She died, and they brought her back to life."

Stiles felt his whole body go numb, like all the blood had rushed from his body.

"She has damage to her brain. Her skull is fractured." The sheriff softened his tone, not looking his son in the eye. "Broken jaw, six broken ribs, a fractured vertebrae. Broken arm, dislocated shoulder, three broken fingers. Open wound to her ankle which is infected and may have to be amputated."

Stiles was cold. Stone cold. All these injuries were like a stab to his chest and he couldn't do anything to help her. His poor Lydia.

"She has dropped from eight and a half stone to six in the space of four weeks, making her severely underweight. She is dehydrated, to the point where she could slip into a coma at any moment."

Stiles wanted to collapse, block out his father's words.

"She is not Lydia right now."

Stiles' legs began to shake. He couldn't hold himself up. The next thing he knew he was on his knees, his palms pressed against the cool floor.

The sheriff was beside him in a second. "Stiles, this is going to be extremely hard, for both of you."

"I-I can't-what if she do-doesn't pull through, I-she can't...I need to tell her, she can't-she can't die."

Everything fell still around Stiles.

"She can't die."