The ride home was quiet. Neither Stiles nor his father said more than ten words the entire trip, although the sheriff sent more than a few worried glances his son's way. If Stiles was annoyed by his furtive looks, he never mentioned it. In fact, that was part of Sherriff Stilinski's concern; Stiles looked as though he was a million miles away and yet his brow was furrowed so deeply that sweat formed at his temples. Whatever it was that was troubling him – be it his cousin or his panic attacks – made the Sherriff almost afraid to ask.
It wasn't until Stiles pulled the jeep into their driveway that his father finally decided to speak up. "Son…"
Stiles was motionless. He hadn't even removed his hands from the wheel. However, he relaxed his tensed body as if suddenly realizing that there was nothing to worry about. "Hmm?"
"…about this week-"
"Dad-"
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his shoulders slumping and the lines deepening in his face. "I had no idea it was going to be so tough on you… I really thought that-"
"Dad," Stiles repeated. The sheriff looked up into the soft brown eyes of his son. "It's okay, really. I just… freaked out a little bit, y'know? It happens."
"Stiles, I found you unconscious on the sidewalk in front of our motel… in the middle of the night."
Stiles' lips pursed. His father had a point… But he couldn't just blurt out that an evil yet sexy demon lady had possibly killed Bastian and then driven Maggie insane. He had to sort out the experience first, tell Scott second, and then he might say something to his dad. He was still struggling with mentioning anything to anyone…
"If you ever tell on me…"
He suppressed a shiver. "I think… it was good for me, y'know?"
Sheriff Stilinski gave his son a deadpan expression. Stiles responded with dramatically rolling his eyes.
"No, I don't mean passing out face-first into the concrete… I mean, like… exposure therapy… As much as neither of us wants to admit it, we can't avoid that side of the family forever. I mean… look at what happened… What if we could have helped them, y'know?"
Another moment of silence passed between the two of them before the sheriff sighed in resignation. "You're right," he stated. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try keeping in touch better. Especially now that Maggie…"
"We'll figure it out, Dad," the brunette replied with a quick smile. Sheriff Stilinski returned it, but as his son got out of the jeep he couldn't shake the feeling that there was still something off…
He shook his head. "I just need sleep…" he mumbled to himself. "…wacky freakin' weekend…" And with that, he grabbed their bags and followed Stiles into the safety and familiarity of their home.
Their big, lonely, empty home.
"It was the weirdest thing – well, maybe not the weirdest dream I've ever had… but still!"
"True," Allison said as she took a seat behind Lydia. "But it sounds pretty mild… Are you sure you should be worried about it?"
"Um, have you looked at my track record, Allison?" the strawberry blonde reprimanded. Allison shrugged her shoulders, but she knew Lydia was right. "Besides, I never said anything about being 'worried'…"
The brunette smirked. "Then… why are you telling me about your naked dreams?"
A blush of frustration appeared on Lydia's cheeks. "Yeah, good point… why am I telling you this…" she grumbled, turning around to face the front of the classroom.
"Probably because we're kindred spirits in our weirdness?" she offered. Lydia didn't reply, so she dropped it.
A few moments later, Scott walked into the classroom, followed by the bell. Lydia couldn't help but notice that Stiles wasn't with him. "Alright, everyone," the teacher began in a droll voice. He sounded just as excited about Monday as everyone else. "Let's see… Mr. McCall! No Mr. Stilinski today?"
Scott just shrugged. "I thought he was coming back today, but-"
The classroom door flung open and Stiles rushed in. "Sorry! Sorry… running a bit late today," he offered as he crashed into his seat. He nodded in acknowledgement to Scott, but otherwise offered no excuses or explanations for his tardiness. The teacher chose to ignore Stiles' late entry and continued on with his usual morning routine.
"Dude," Scott said after a moment. Stiles leaned back, but kept his attention forward.
"Huh?"
"Is… everything okay? I thought you were gonna call me…"
"Oh, yeah, everything's fine. Nothing to report," Stiles replied. Scott frowned. It wasn't like Stiles to brush him off, but he decided to approach him about it over lunch; no use causing raucous in class when he wasn't being too forthcoming anyways.
The classroom door opened again and one of the school secretaries poked her head in. "Mr. Duke has finished his orientation…"
"Ah, yes, yes, I almost forgot," the teacher replied. "Class, we have a new student joining us today… Come on in."
What followed was a tall, slender boy with fair skin and amber eyes. He wore simple black jeans and a black hoodie, but they did nothing to dull his striking appearance – especially the vibrant, red hair curling around his face. Lydia bit her lips and looked him up and down. "Well… hello…" he murmured. Behind her, Allison rolled her eyes.
"This is Clyde Duke… If I remember correctly, Mr. Duke… you're from somewhere in Europe?"
"Exotic, too," Lydia whispered to no one in particular.
The new student smiled, flashing brilliantly white teeth, and looked down bashfully. "Yes," he replied in a strange accent, "but it's a secret."
Lydia's brow furrowed. Something suddenly seemed very familiar about the new kid… She leaned forward.
"I leave it to you," he continued, looking up and directly into Lydia's eyes, "to guess."
The young woman froze. She knew exactly where she had seen him before… where she had heard him before. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat as the teacher said a few more words and the new kid – Clyde Duke – took a seat at the front of the room. Lydia remained motionless as thoughts of a dark road, a hooded figure, and a strange voice invaded her mind. She didn't notice when Scott slowly turned to face her with a concerned expression.
"Lydia," he whispered, but she was unable to hear his voice. "Lydia, I can hear your heartbeat from here…" She still didn't respond, so Scott gently flicked Stiles' arm and glanced back. Stiles twisted around in his seat.
"…woah… Lydia? Hey… You okay?" he asked, waving a hand in front of her face. "Hellooo…"
"Mr. Giles!" Lydia shouted, standing up suddenly. Stiles clutched his heart in surprise and all eyes turned to her – except the new kid's. The teacher's hand was still at the chalkboard, mid-letter.
"…Miss Martin?"
"I… I'm… I'm not feeling well. I need to go to the nurse," she stated. The teacher blinked at her for a moment before giving her a confused nod. The entire class watched silently as she threw her belongings into her bag and rushed out. Stiles and Scott looked at each other, then to Allison, but all three shrugged in unison. Whatever it was, none of them knew.
With a quiet sigh, Stiles turned back to the front of the classroom only to find that the new kid was staring at him. Stiles leaned back with a surprised expression and the redhead turned away, but he didn't miss the knowing smirk on his face. The rest of the class period was uneventful, much to Stiles' relief… Not only had he overslept, but he knew he was going to be fending of Scott's concerned looks all day and now Lydia was acting strangely again and the new guy was giving him looks…
He sighed and let his head fall to the desk with a loud thud.
"I swear to god that was the same voice!" Lydia squeaked as Allison took a seat on the sickbed next to her. "I'm not crazy… right!? I mean, considering how things go in our lives… this doesn't necessarily mean that I'm imagining things, right?"
Allison gently rubbed her friend's back, but the concerned look on her face remained. "You don't think it just sounds the same? Like, so similar that you might mix them up?"
"I heard his voice in my head, Allison," she retorted. "I'll never forget it… And his accent even matched."
"You never mentioned he had an accent…"
"And he looked right… at me…" Lydia continued. "And I just… I know it's him…" She whirled around. "Please, you have to believe me…"
"I do!" Allison reassured. "I do, I promise… but, now we have to figure out what to do about it…"
"What if he's dangerous!?" Lydia whispered. Her eyes were wide with fear.
"He didn't try anything today… and nothing in your dreams either, right?" the brunette replied. "So… let's just move cautiously, okay? We can… go talk to him alone, y'know? Ask him a few questions. I can even talk to him if you like… But we should play it cool for now." She nodded to herself.
"What about Scott? And Stiles? And all the other werewolves around here!? What if he's come for them and I drew him here!?"
"Lydia!" Allison said sternly. She placed her hands on her friend's shoulders. "I'll tell Scott and Stiles about Clyde Duke, okay? You just be careful until tonight. I'll come over and we can make sure he doesn't try anything while you're sleeping, okay?"
Lydia slowly looked up. "You mean… you'd just stand guard… all night?"
A smile touched Allison's lips. "Of course. We're… sort of like a team, y'know? You, me, Stiles… Scott and Isaac… Even if we're mad at each other… we look out for one another. Like a family."
A flat expression appeared on Lydia's face. "Are we still talking about me?" she asked. Allison rolled her eyes and stood.
"Just try to keep calm, okay? The secretary is right outside, so no one is getting in here. Rest up. I'll be back around lunch." And with that, she left.
"Right…" Lydia said to herself as she peered into the shadowy corner of the room. "I'll just… rest…"
It was loud in the lunch room where most of the students had gathered to escape the chilled outdoors. "I can't believe they're still allowed to serve this… slop to the youth of America…" Isaac mumbled as he dropped his tray onto the table.
"I think that it's supposed to be mac'n'cheese…" Scott said, leaning in close.
A disgusted look crossed Isaac's face. "I thought it was chicken strips…"
Noises of repulsion coupled with laughter followed. The only thing missing was the usual sarcastic comment from Stiles. Scott looked over at his friend; Stiles was absentminded pushing the mush around his plate. "Hey," the werewolf said, nudging him with his elbow. "You okay?"
"Mhmm," Stiles replied, not looking up. Everyone else was observing him, now. His jaw tightened, but he just shrugged and lifted a forkful of the mash to his nose. "I'm fine, just waiting for one of you guys to try it first… I've never trusted a school lunch less than I do mac'n'cheese-chicken-strips… I vote Isaac."
"What!? Why me!?"
"Because you're kinda like the newest member, which means you hafta do all the grunt work. Seniority rights and all that."
After that, lunch resumed its usual vigor. And Stiles went right back to spacing out.
Allison joined them shortly after. "Lydia's doing better," she reported. There was a moment of concerned questions, then back to normal high school conversations about homework and crappy teachers. Allison looked over at Stiles, realizing that not only had he not immediately asked about Lydia's wellbeing the moment she arrived, but he seemed almost… unconcerned with her altogether. It was obvious that something was on his mind, but she chalked it up to an emotional weekend and left it alone.
It didn't help that she had to find some way to inform the others about Lydia's dream and the connection it may or may not have with Clyde Duke… and that if it did, what they were going to do about it.
"Seriously. Do I have to, like… submit it in writing that I'm honestly alright?" Stiles asked as he spun around in his chair. Much to his chagrin, Scott had followed him home after school and demanded to stay until Stiles told him what was up. He had been there almost three hours and Stiles had done nothing but avoid the subject or give short, nondescript answers.
"…why are you doing that?" Scott asked. He crossed his arms and stared expectantly at his best friend.
Stiles sighed dramatically. "Doing what exactly?"
"Trying to make it seem like you weren't freaking out the other day and that whatever it is isn't still bothering you!"
They stared at each other for a moment before Stiles let out another sigh. "It's not like that…"
"You said you were going to call me back once you met with you cousin, but you didn't… And you keep avoiding the subject. You really think with how freaked out you were I'm going to believe that she met you and just wanted someone to talk to…?" His friend didn't meet his eyes; Scott finally realized he had caught Stiles in a lie. "…just tell me the truth, man. What's wrong?"
Stiles ran a hand through his hair. "You want the truth?" he asked quietly. Scott didn't respond, so he continued. "…she never showed up."
"…really?" he asked. "She just never showed up?"
"Yeah," Stiles said curtly. Scott's brow furrowed.
"Then… why didn't you just say so?"
"Because…" Stiles paused and looked down. "I had another panic attack."
"…Stiles, that's two days in a row, man."
"I know!" Stiles exclaimed. "And that's why I didn't wanna say anything. It's not a big deal, Scott, I just had a rough time and I'm just a little tired and it's not a big deal and-"
"Stiles!" Scott said, raising his hands. "It's okay! It's okay, I get it."
"No, I said I'm fine, and… wait… really?" he asked in disbelief. Scott smirked and let out a small laugh.
"Yes, I do," the werewolf replied. "You didn't hafta lie about it, though."
A sheepish smile touched Stiles' lips. "Yeah, I know… I guess I just didn't want you to overreact or something."
"Me. Overreact," Scott replied incredulously. They both let out a chuckle.
"Okay, okay, so I do weird things sometimes! You turn into a furry critter and run through the woods at night and I… act like a high school girl sometimes…"
"Stiles… that's… not exactly flattering for either of us…"
"…touché."
Scott stood and slung his backpack over his shoulder. "Now… Can I go do my homework?"
His friend motioned gallantly towards the door. "You are excused."
He wasn't sure what woke him up; his window was cracked to allow cool air to circulate into his room, so it could have been that… but he also felt hot, agitated… so perhaps it was that. Either way, Stiles found his eyes fluttering open in the middle of the night unexpectedly. Unfortunately, no matter how much he tossed and turned, he just couldn't fall back asleep.
"Trouble gettin' comfy?"
"WOAH!" Stiles exclaimed as he flew from his bed. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he eventually able to make out a halo of blonde curls from the moonlight in his window. The southern accent was also unmistakable. "Jesus! YOU! IT'S YOU!"
"My name's Daliah, not Jesus… And you should probably calm down, lest we wake your father."
At this, Stiles clamped his mouth shut. "…wuh… what are you doing here…" he whispered. The blonde monster stepped closer to him and he shakily backed up… until collided with the wall and could move away no further.
"Hmph," she smirked. "I told you I'd see you soon." Slowly, she reached up towards Stiles' face, but he jerked away. "Aww, c'mon, now… I have no intentions of hurtin' you… In fact, you were such a good little boy, not tellin' anyone about our little… meetin'," She trailed a sharp, glass-like fingernail down his cheek, "that I wanna reward you for your good behavior."
"Re…reward me?" he squeaked. Daliah smiled her eye-crinkling smile.
"You have the most… beautiful natural blush to your cheeks…" She trailed her nail down his jaw line and eventually his collar bone. "Must be this… pale skin of yours… I hope it never fades."
Stiles clenched his teeth. "Y'know, I was really hoping you were a bad dream…"
"What a terrible thing to say!" she said with a pout. "Especially after I said I'd be rewardin' you."
"Yeah? And what the hell does that mean?" Stiles asked, trying to mask his trembling voice with sarcasm.
The blonde clucked her tongue and cupped Stiles' face in her small hands. "Oh, you poor baby… Don't you know I can smell your pain from a mile away?" She snaked one hand around the back of his head. "I only want to take it away… I promise you… you will learn to enjoy this."
Stiles' eyes widened. "Enjoy? Enjoy what?"
The blonde's eyes glinted dark red for a moment and she smiled... a big smile full of razor sharp teeth. "This."
Before he could react, Daliah grabbed a fistful of his overgrown hair, jerked his head back, and sank her teeth into his neck. A yell of pain almost passed Stiles' lips, but Daliah was faster and threw a hand over it. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fight his way out from her grasp, but the blonde monster remained rooted in place like a brick wall.
That wasn't the only strange thing.
Without warning, his limbs began to lose strength…. along with the rest of his body. The first conclusion that Stiles' mind reached was that this crazy lady was a vampire sucking out all of his blood, causing him to lose consciousness from blood loss. After a moment longer, however, he realized that this couldn't be the case; he felt no blood dripping down his back. In fact, he was starting to feel nothing at all… absolutely nothing.
A haze filtered into his mind and, eventually… he dropped his limbs and stopped fighting it. As much as it went against every instinct he had, Stiles was succumbing to the numbness, the weightlessness, the… nothingness.
Daliah finally pulled away with a gasp; as Stiles suspected, her lips were clean. "Feels good, doesn't it?" she cooed as she released her prey. Stiles slid down the wall. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his mind or his eyes to focus on anything other than the comfortable numbness… and on the smooth, low voice of the blonde before him.
"Hh… how…" the teen tried to say, but nothing seemed to be cooperating.
"I told you, Stiles…" Daliah knelt down and cupped his face yet again. "I only wanted to reward you… I said that I can smell your pain, darlin'… I'm here to take all of that away."
He looked at her through hazy eyes, trying desperately to process her words. "But… Mags…"
"She and Bastian were… weak," she said quietly as she ran her hands down Stiles' bare chest. "But, not you, Stiles… You're strong… I can tell." She leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "You… you run with wolves and banshees… your pain, your anxiety, your fears… they're electrifying." Stiles didn't reply. Instead, he slowly reached up to the wound on his neck. "Awww, I know it hurts at first, baby," Daliah said with sickly sweet words, "But I meant what I said… You'll learn to enjoy it."
With that, she stood and danced over to the window. The moonlight seemed to dance with her as she spun in small circles. Stiles could hardly focus on her spinning form, so he tried to stand. Daliah just watched him with an amused expression as he attempted to prop himself upright… only to have his knees buckle and send him crashing to the ground.
"Might wanna wait until the… euphoria wears off, sweetheart," Daliah comment. She sauntered towards him and used a single bare foot to roll him over onto his back. "And one more piece of advice…" she whispered, leaning down to give him one more kiss on the reddening bite-mark. "I'd wear something conservative tomorrow… We still want your dear ole daddy to be safe, now don't we?"
Stiles said nothing, slipping into warm unconsciousness.