Hey! I'm trying to update a bit quicker now that finals are over. I originally wanted to finish this before the premiere on the 23rd, but that doesn't really look like it's happening. So I'm going to do my best to write while it's going on (I always struggle with that! My mind gets all mixed with the canon storyline. Note how I don't really work with Malia – I don't have a severe interest in her character, but I have a feeling once the show starts up again, it'll be more difficult to ignore.

But here we are!

Chapter 7

It's Okay to Heal

Lydia reapplies her makeup, but for a mere moment, she wonders what the point is. What is the point of the careful application at this point?

But she'll do it anyway, because it was her routine. Because regardless if she did it or not, everything would still be a mess. Allison and Aiden would still be dead and Stiles would be broken. It didn't matter if her lipstick was perfect, no, but she chose to control the things she could. It made her feel a smidge calmer, if but for a second.

Scott approaches her with a friendly smile as he does every morning and she relaxes a bit. The past five months, while challenging, have been remotely durable due to the resident True Alpha. She never felt such a connection to a male – one where sexual attraction was eliminated from the equation, leaving only real friendship. She smiles as he approaches.

"He didn't stay in his house last night, didn't he?" She asks as he approaches and all Scott does is let out a hollow laugh. "Obviously not. We know him far too well at this point, I suppose."

"Of course he didn't," Scott sighs, putting a few books in his locker. "Derek followed him all the way to Eichen House."

Lydia feels a chill roll its way down her spine and she shivers. "What in the world is he doing there?"

"Oh, you know Stiles," Scott says with a strained voice. "Probably some weird sort of penance for crimes he didn't commit." He growls slightly – low and steady, Lydia not sure if she would hear if she wasn't standing directly next to him.

"Scott."

He stops, looking sheepish in that adorable puppy-like way only he can. "Yeah, sorry. I just wish there was something I could do. I mean, what's the point of being a True Alpha if I can't fix any of this?"

"Probably the same as being a banshee without being able to control her powers. All I do is find the dead bodies." Lydia says softly.

Scott shakes his head. "You know that's not true."

"But it is, Scott." Lydia sighs, grabbing a few books. "We haven't been able to do anything properly recently. I just feel so useless."

Scott takes her hand and gives it a small squeeze. "We'll get through this. Just like we get through everything.

Lydia appreciates the sentiment, but she isn't sure how truthful it is. Scott did always have an annoying sense of optimism. That's why she worked better with Stiles. Their sense of cynicism matched perfectly. Among other things.

So when Stiles marches through the halls of Beacon Hills High School, his hair casually windswept and sporting a new shirt – one of the few he purchased before being assaulted by Kate Argent – Lydia couldn't help but feel her breath escape her a bit. Sure, he looks far more tired than she ever wished to see him, but he has a loopy, sleepy smile mounted on his face and he's waving at a group of girls who are giggling in his direction. It's clear he isn't sure what to do with the attention, so he gives them a sideways smile, only sending them into further twitters. He shakes his head to himself and catches Scott and Lydia's attention, smiling as he approaches them.

Lydia tells herself that the feeling bubbling in her stomach has nothing to do with that scene, but the frustration of feeling useless.

"What up, Scott? How are you today, besides having Derek tail me at all hours of the day?" Stiles asks.

Scott stiffens, but it's clear through Stiles' tone he's not particularly upset about it. If anything, he looks amused, opening his locker with a flourish. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Dude, cut the crap."

Scott sighs. "Look, it wasn't even my idea – it was his. He said he used to do this all the time when I first turned—"

"Ug, so creepy, not surprised in the slightest, go on."

"—and he just wanted to make sure you didn't do anything stupid. I didn't ask him to follow you."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Which actually makes it worse, if that's possible. Look, dude, I already promised I wouldn't run, right? You don't have to worry about me making a break for it all the time."

"You are literally the biggest idiot in all the world, Stilinski." Lydia snaps before she can stop herself. He looks at her, startled, which only fuels her frustration and presses her to speak further. "If you think for a moment that we're going to stop worrying about your scrawny little ass—" Lydia tried not to stop to think about how so not scrawny that ass was. "—for even a second, than I should reevaluate my thought that you could potentially be my intellectual equal. Well, at least close to being such."

Stiles lifts his eyebrows. "High praise."

"No, it's not praise, I'm insulting you!" Lydia snaps, exasperatedly.

"Clearly."

He smirks and Lydia has to actively remind herself to not let her face flush. She was supposed to be scolding the idiot, not making herself feel like one. She tilts her chin up and turns away from him, only flinching when she hears his low chuckle as she does so.

"Actually, Lydia, I have a question." Stiles asks and she considers ignoring it for a moment, but she senses a change. He sounds so soft and timid, that she breaks and looks back over at him. He's looking at the ground, shuffling his feet like he used to when he spoke to her. Before… everything.

"Yes?"

Stiles looks expectantly at Scott, who merely stares in return. Annoyed at the 'true alpha's' idiocy, Lydia clears her throat and stomps her foot. Finally it gets through to him because he nearly shouts, "OH!" like the oblivious moron he is. He rubs the back of his neck. "So, I gotta go so I can do… things. And talk to… people."

"Smooth, Scotty!" Stiles shouts as he leaves.

They both laugh uneasily.

Stiles takes a breath and mutters to himself, "Seriously, after everything…"

"What?" Lydia asks, a little harsher than she intended.

Stiles looks up, sheepish. "I just can't believe it."

"Believe what?"

"After everything – werewolves, kanimas, nogitsunes – you still terrify me." Stiles laughs and Lydia can't help but join him. "I want to know if you'd like to go to dinner tonight. Just you and me."

Lydia's heart stops for a moment and she can feel her mouth agape. "What?"

Stiles' eyes widen and he put his hands up. "It's not like a date – I mean, I know you don't, it's not like I thought, I just wanted to… talk." He finished lamely, his eyes darting around the hallways for what Lydia could only assume was a quick escape. "Yeah, okay. I'm gonna go to the bathroom to drown myself now."

Before he could escape, Lydia reaches out and grabs his arm to keep him rooted to the spot. "Pick me up at seven?" She asks, her heart fluttering a little quicker than she'd admit.

Stiles looks like she just spoke to her in a different language. "W-What?"

"Would you like to pick me up at seven?" She repeats.

"Seriously?"

Lydia laughs, calming herself down more than anything. "Usually when someone invites someone else to dinner, they have a plan when the other person agrees."

Stiles frowns. "I just don't think it occurred to me that you might agree."

"Well, you should plan better next time," Lydia says with a smirk. "I thought that was what you were supposed to be good at."

XXX

"Can you tell me why I'm here again?"

Scott groans, rolling on Lydia's bed melodramatically, listening to the girls chatter about which dress she should wear. "We were watching a movie and Lydia needed fashion help," Kira says, clear that she's just happy to be included, even if she questions her own ability to be of any fashion help. "So, it was either you hang by yourself and mope, or you come along."

"Yes, if you're just going to complain, you may as well just leave. All I need is Kira, not you." Lydia snaps.

Although, if she's being honest, she's glad they're both here. It makes Allison's absence just a little less noticeable if filled with two people. Of course Scott is of no help and Kira's barely a little better, but she's glad someone's here, pondering over clothes.

Scott merely makes a wounded noise, but he stays on Lydia's bed, grabbing The Catcher in the Rye out of his back pocket. "What's the big deal? It's Stiles, he's probably going to wear a shirt with a superhero on it," Scott mumbles, but Lydia can see his grin from behind the book. Everything seems so… normal.

"You and I both know that's not true," Lydia huffs, waving a finger at him. "You know Stiles when it comes to this stuff. It wouldn't surprise me if he showed up in full tuxedo."

"What are you guys talking about? He seemed pretty flustered in history class." Kira mentions, running her fingers down one of Lydia's dresses, maybe just to look like she's being helpful.

Lydia frowns. "I don't know. He seemed pretty adamant that it wasn't a date when he asked."

Scott snorts. "We all know it's because he's too afraid you'll say no. If he thought you'd say yes to a date, he'd probably ask you out in sky writing, or something ridiculously cliché like that."

"Maybe before he would," Lydia says softly. "Now I'm not so sure."

Scott peeks up from behind his book, eyeing Lydia curiously. "He's still Stiles, you know." He says.

Lydia looks at him, unsure if she heard him correctly.

"He's still Stiles. He may be a little sad, perhaps even a little broken, but he's still the guy who's been in love with you since the third grade, he's still the guy who corrects people who call your hair red – making sure they know it's strawberry blonde – and he's still the guy who calls you first when something happens to make you sure that you're alright. He's still Stiles."

Lydia doesn't say anything. She runs her hands down her dress, deciding that while Scott and Kira were entirely unhelpful, this was definitely the one she wanted. Kira, who'd been standing awkwardly off to the side, leaps forward with a smile. "So, I know that our styles are very different and I wasn't sure how to help, but I wanted to do something, so," Kira trails off awkwardly and hands Lydia a pin.

It's a beautiful, delicate glass lily, which Lydia turns to see a barrette. Lydia looks up at Kira, who's swaying uncomfortably. "It's been in my family for years, although due to current knowledge, probably means my mom's had it the whole time. But she says that it brings good luck in things that bring light." Kira shrugs. "I don't know, my mom's big on metaphors. But I thought you might like to borrow it tonight."

Lydia isn't sure what to say. She knows she needs to say something because Kira's looking pretty sheepish. "It's beautiful," Lydia says. "Are you sure you're okay with me wearing it?"

"Of course!" Kira chirps, brightening. She hesitantly approaches Lydia, pulling her hair back and fastening a small section behind the barrette. She runs her nimble fingers through Lydia's hair and smiles. "You look really beautiful."

"Thank you," Lydia says softly, a small twinge in her chest where Allison used to keep home in. She missed her friend dearly. Often she isn't sure how life is supposed to go one when someone is taken too early.

Death doesn't happen to you, it happens to everyone around you.

Stiles' words haunt her. She never understood what he meant until Allison was lost to this world. But that's what keeps her grounded. All her friends are at risk again, and she isn't sure if they could lose one another. She isn't sure if those remaining could handle it.

The doorbell rings from the front hall and suddenly Lydia is a bundle of nerves. She whirls, wide-eyed, at the two companions in her room. "You can let yourself out, yes?" She asks breathlessly as – she isn't sure why – the two laugh at her.

Lydia scampers down the stairs, opening the door with a flourish before the nerves eat her alive.

Scott was close.

He's not wearing a tuxedo, but he is in a button-up and a tie. It's strange to see him out of flannel, but a wonderful sort of strange. He grins sheepishly at her appearance, a faint blush creeping on his cheeks. "You look beautiful." He says.

It takes a bit to calm her heart rate, but she manages to sputter out, "You don't look bad yourself, Stilinski."

Stiles beams back at her. "Well, dinner awaits."

The drive to dinner is quiet, but a comfortable kind of quiet. It's still something that Lydia has to get used to in regards to Stiles, because she's not used to being with him, cushioned with silence. With a bite of courage, she asks, "Penny for your thoughts?"

Stiles huffs a laugh, gripping his wheel a little tighter. "I'm trying to work up the courage to do this, before I back out."

"What do you mean?"

Stiles shakes his head. "I thought we could talk. And I can't talk to my dad because I'm genuinely worried for his heart and he'll have all this guilt if I explain everything to him. I'm afraid he'll try and do something in the legality side of things and to be honest, it would make everything even more of a mess. And I can't really talk to Scott because he has so much on his plate anyway and I know that he sometimes struggles with anger and keeping his wolf in. And I want to tell him, but because of everything, I'm not sure I can. It's just… hard. So I wanted to talk to you about some things. I think they're eating me alive. And I had a recommendation that I talk with someone about it and I was hoping you'd be okay that I choose to talk to you?"

Lydia blinks. "Why wouldn't that be okay?"

Stiles sighs. "Sometimes I think that people wouldn't want to speak with me. After everything."

She resists the urge to shake him. "The only person who believes that is you."

"It's enough."

Lydia suppose he's right about that.

There aren't many restaurants in Beacon Hills, but Lydia finds herself at one of the nicer ones. Even Jackson didn't like taking her here because, even though he had more money than the entire pack put together, he always said, 'what's the point of eating out if we'll just end up in bed anyway.'

Turns out Jackson wasn't the nicest boyfriend.

The two are led to their seats and Lydia finds herself incredibly distracted when Stiles rolls up his sleeves, revealing the ends of some of his tattoos and firm forearms. He rubs the back of his neck as he peers over the menu and looks at her expectantly. She then realizes he's been trying to get her attention for some time now.

"I'm sorry?" She asks.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Stiles asks and she realizes that there is a waiter standing next to the table.

"Oh, uh lemonade would be nice."

"That does sound nice," Stiles says thoughtfully. "I'll have that too."

Lydia can't help but every stolen look he sends to her, she has to look down at her plate. She tries to ignore the stutter of her heart and how when he gives her an expectant look, her tongue feels a little thick in her mouth like she'd trip over her words if she started to speak. Luckily, Stiles does it for her so she doesn't make a fool of herself.

"So," he starts uncomfortably, rubbing his hands together. "I'm afraid if I don't start right now, I'll talk myself out of doing this at all."

"I understand." Lydia says softly, not wanting to do anything to deter him at all.

"Okay," Stiles breathes, visibly shaking from the other side of the table. "So, as you know, I went away for five months after… after I… tried to kill myself." She can tell he's struggling. She's not sure if anyone ever said it out loud. It sounds so weird out loud. It shouldn't have ever been in a sentence together. "It was a bit more of a challenge than I thought because I'm not sure Deaton really knows what's going on."

"He may have mentioned something about that."

Stiles lifted his eyebrows. "Hmm, I guess I feel a little better knowing he didn't know. A small part of me wondered, to be honest." He says with a melancholy shrug. "Anyways, it's a bit different than he explained it to me.

"You see, he said it was a place where people who dealt with traumatic experiences with the supernatural. But the people there had a bit different of an idea with what to do with the traumatized." His eyes shuts and the lines in his face grows a little stiller than normal. "They hate the supernatural. And I mean that in the truest form of the word. They spent hours manipulating all of us, trying to twist our experiences. They forced us into combat daily, trying to convince us by letting us out in the woods. They used to trap werewolves and convince people to kill them. I had to watch it over and over. All I could see was Scott or Isaac. It was awful. And I tried fighting against it, I even tried saving a few. That… was a mistake."

Lydia feels her bones ice over.

"What would you two like?"

The two jump and Lydia wants to strangle their waiter. Stiles blinks, as if he forgot they were even surrounded by people. "Uh, Lydia, do you know what you'd like?"

"Uh, this," Lydia points to a random item on the menu.

Stiles does the same, blinking as the waiter takes the menus away. "Wow, I have no idea what I just ordered," he chuckles.

"Neither do I." Lydia laughs back.

"Mystery dining, I like it," Stiles grins, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"So, you were trying to save werewolves." Lydia prompts because she can see the doubt creeping on his face. He's going to back out if he doesn't say anything soon.

"Right," Stiles does that sort of half smile that drives her nuts. She could strangle the waiter right now. "So, when I started resisting them, they started employing… different techniques. At first it was just simple whippings. That hurt like a bitch, don't get me wrong, but I've been doing therapy techniques for years that have you envision yourself in a different place. So it wasn't difficult to blank out when it was happening. Then they started putting me in isolation for days on end. I would hallucination and I swear to God, I would think the Nogitsune was back and I was about to murder everyone. It was awful. But not as awful as the last thing they did.

"It was the last week I stayed there. They said they had something special for me. I knew it wasn't good, but I simply thought it was another form of torture. I didn't think much of it. They locked me in a room that had a few knives in it. A pistol hanging on the wall. There was this skylight and remember looking at, wondering why that was there. And then I saw it. The moon."

Lydia couldn't help it, she gasped, putting her hand over her mouth as she stared at Stiles in horror. "They didn't," she whispered.

Stiles doesn't answer, but he doesn't deny it. "Next thing I know, there's a growling and I realized they locked someone in the room with me. He's making the noises Scott used to make when he first turned, except they were so much more terrifying. I could tell all he wanted to do was tear me apart.

"Everyone was watching. Watching me in this cage with an uncontrolled werewolf, surrounded by weapons. The task was clear. Kill or be killed."

He shuts his eyes, tears welling in them and Lydia isn't sure what to do. So, for lack of anything better, she reaches out and grabs his hand, trying to still the shaking in his body. It doesn't really work, but he at least opens his eyes.

"I dream about that night often," he says with a soft whisper. "He kept on attacking me and I was doing everything I could to avoid him, but after a few swipes to the chest, I knew I was going to die. If I lost any more blood, I would die. So I took the knife off the wall and I threw it at him.

"He made this awful noise before hitting the ground. I hear it sometimes when I'm just standing. That's the real reason I didn't try out for lacrosse. Tackling sounds so much like him. Falling to the ground." Stiles bites his lips and tears roll down his cheeks. "Before I could tell myself, even if I didn't believe it, that the Nogitsune caused all the horribleness. But this? This I did. I did it."

"He was going to murder you, Stiles." Lydia mutters softly, unable to handle seeing the horrible turmoil in his face. "He was going to murder you."

"Maybe I should've just died. I-I'm just never strong enough."

"Stiles, you are strong," Lydia says, squeezing his palm and refusing to let go. "You are so much stronger than you think."

"I was supposed to protect the werewolves. I'm supposed to figure things out and keep people safe and I couldn't even do that. Their faces after that night, urg." Stiles groans, pulling his hands out of Lydia's grasp and running them down his face. "I ran away. I couldn't do it. I knew I was supposed to be there for you and Scott and my dad, but it was so awful. It was just too much. Everything was just too much."

Lydia accepts the fact that he's curling onto himself at the moment, but tries to remain calm. "Now you listen here Stilinski. I'm not saying this because we're friends, I'm saying this because it's true. You are strong. And you being gone for five months was horrible. It was absolute hell. I kept trying to call you. It was second nature. Do you know how much that sucks? To have someone in your life that you rely on that's suddenly gone? I would dial your number and then realize you weren't there."

Stiles sighs. "I'm so sorry Lydia. I'm sorry it's been so hard."

"That's not what I'm trying to do, Stiles," Lydia says. "I'm saying that you matter. And I need you to start taking care of yourself because you're scaring all of us. And Kate Argent is here and she's threatening us all, but you need to be okay. And what those… those… horrific monsters put you through doesn't make you weak. It makes you strong. And you need to start seeing that in yourself. But until you do," Lydia says. "I'll believe for you. And I'll remind you. I'll remind you how strong you are. Every day if I have to."

Stiles gives a small smile. "That would imply we speak every day."

"I'd be okay with that."

The two are smiling at each other when the waiter comes to their table, setting their food down in front. They both mumble thanks, Lydia frowning at the plate before her. She peeks up and sees Stiles doing the same.

"Wow, I really hate beef stroganoff." He laughs, pushing his plate away.

"Wanna trade?" Lydia laughs, handing him her plate.

"To one of many adventures!" Stiles laughs, taking her plate and lifting the lemonade glass.

And with a clink, the tension melts away.

A/N: I had to have a little Lydia/Stiles moment. Also a little lightheartedness before it gets a little (lot) INTENSE next chapter.

Please leave a note if you have the time! Much love!