Stiles felt trapped in a sort of dream state. One moment he thought he was awake, interacting with a nurse, but the next he was surrounded by darkness, unable to move or speak. It was terrifying. The only thing keeping him sane was Lydia's reassurance that he wasn't going to die. He held on to that like a life line, doing his best not to freak out. It'll be fine he thought this is just a minor setback. I'll wake up in a few minutes, crack a joke, and we'll all be just fine. His inner monologue was interrupted by an obnoxious beeping. It started off as a quiet, distant white noise, but quickly grew until it was deafening. The next thing he became aware of was the pain in his foot. At first just an itch, forming into a dull ache before long. He could also hear people moving around him, speaking in hushed whispers. If he really concentrated, he could make out the odd phrase:

"Broken foot, it should heal fairly quickly-" everything turned to white noise before he heard the rest of the prognosis.

The next thing he heard was his friend Scott, talking to someone else in the room. "I can't believe this happened. I should have been there. You could have both died!"

The voice that replied made his heart soar, "Scott, this isn't your fault. We're both going to be just fine. I asked you to stay behind, so if it's anyone's fault its mine, alright?"

Stiles's thoughts were on Lydia. Is she okay? What happened to her? Is her arm alright? Then he remembered their conversation before he had passed out. Does she remember? Did that even happen? His ranting thoughts were interrupted when a soft hand took his. It sent a jolt of fiery energy through his limbs, and he did his best to squeeze her hand. When he felt her hot breath against his ear, tickling the hairs on his neck, his heart stopped altogether. She whispered two words, so quietly he wondered if even Scott would be able to hear. "I remember."

His eyes shot open and he turned his head groggily to look at her. She blinked in surprise before smiling at his disorientated expression. Trying to find the right words, he fumbled for a moment, eventually blurting out, "You do?"

"Of course I do, Stiles." Lydia smiled sweetly at him before leaning down to kiss his forehead. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensation. Then he became aware of the fact that Scott was still in the room. Coughing awkwardly, Stiles looked over to him. Lydia followed his gaze and laughed, "Scott knew before I did Stiles. Did you forget he has werewolf senses?" Stiles looked incredulously at his friend, who simply grinned and winked at him before leaving the room.

Stiles frowned, "Yup. Definitely gonna kill him."

"Maybe let your foot heal up first?" Lydia laughed, sitting down in the chair next to his bed.

Smiling he agreed, and then a thought struck him. "Lydia?"

"Hmm?"

"How did you know where to find me?" He turned his head so he could see her properly, and was surprised to see a dark expression on her face.

"I had a feeling. It happened almost straight after I-" she paused, not sure if he had heard her scream or not.

"After you screamed." He finished for her, squeezing her hand in support. "I heard. I think it's actually how I crashed," seeing the horrified expression on her face he babbled on, doing his best to fix his blunder, "Not that it was your fault, I was probably speeding anyway. Pretty sure a deer ran out- yeah that was probably what happened."

"You are just the worst liar ever." She smiled, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge.

Stiles grinned before his thoughts returned to his dad. His face fell as he tried to comprehend life without him. "What am I gonna do Lyds? He's gone. And the worst part is, I think Malia killed him." He choked on his words, raising his hand to his mouth in an attempt to keep his composure. To his surprise, Lydia just nodded.

"I know."

"What? How?"

"Because," she paused, breathing deeply in an attempt to steady herself, "she told me so."

Stiles jolted upright, struggling to get out of his tangle of wires and bed sheets. "She's here!? Where is she? I can't believe she would show up here after what she did!" Lydia took a firm hold of his shoulder and eased him back onto his pillows. Giving in he let himself be calmed down, but kept a stormy expression on his face. "I want to see her."

"Stiles, I don't know-"

"Lydia please. I need to do this now."

Lydia bit her lip, nodding silently before walking out of the room. Sitting alone for a few minutes, Stiles had a chance to think of what he might say. No words seemed good enough. Just as he was having second thoughts, the door cracked open, and Malia shuffled in. The tension in the air was tangible, and she made no effort to smile at him. At least she isn't pretending nothing happened. The thought did nothing to calm him down. He tried to speak, but looking at her just brought back all the memories, and no sound came out. After a moment of silent mouthing, he looked away, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Can't you even look at me?" she sounded hurt.

Anger built up inside of him and he managed to make eye contact, "Oh so this is what we're doing now is it? I'm supposed to feel sorry for you?" She flinched at his harsh words, but he didn't care. Now that he had started there was no stopping the flow of rage pouring out of him.

"I just-"

"Just what, huh? Just thought that you could kill my dad, the only family I have left, and waltz in here like nothing happened?"

"Stiles I did it to survive! I did it to save you and the pack."

"HE WAS PART OF THE PACK!" His anger had gotten the better of him, and he lashed out at her. Outside the room he saw a few nurses stare warily at the room.

Malia stood in shock, staring at him for a moment before taking a step forwards. "Stiles, I'm sorry."

He couldn't believe her. "Sorry? You're sorry? Oh well in that case by all means, come here, give me a hug, all is forgiven!" He practically spat the sarcasm at her.

"Stiles I can make it up to you." She took another brave step forwards, staring him down.

Shaking his head he laughed, "Oh really? And exactly how much is my dad's life worth, Malia? What are you gonna do, that could possibly negate you murdering my father?"

She was crying now, desperately trying to win him over. Kneeling down beside his bed, she took his hand. "I don't know Stiles, but I'll do something. I'll make it up to you and the pack, I promise."

Whipping his hand out of her grip he glared at her. When he spoke, his voice was dangerously quiet, all his frustration from before now channelled into a silent rage which was directed straight at her. "No. No you aren't part of this pack anymore. We don't kill people Malia. You're done. Leave."

She blinked, staring at him in shock. Suddenly her coyote fierceness was back, and her next words tore into him like a blade, "You killed Donovan. Tell that to your precious pack." With that she stood, storming towards the door.

Stiles had frozen, calling out to her, "W-wait! Who told you that? MALIA!" But it was too late, she was gone, and he was left sitting in a stewing pile of fear, confusion, anger, and above all, guilt. Shaking, he lifted his hand so he could bite at his nails. He didn't look up when Scott walked into the room. Didn't even blink when his best friend sat down in the chair beside him, and pulled his hand from his mouth.

"Stiles."

He didn't respond. He was too busy staring into nothing, shaking with the guilt of everything that had happened in the past few months.

"Stiles?" Scott grabbed his shoulder and shook him slightly. With a jolt, Stiles snapped out of his stupor and turned to look at Scott.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

Stiles chewed the inside of his cheek, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. Finally he looked up and met his friends gaze, "No Scott, I'm not."

His friend tilted his head slightly, motioning for Stiles to continue. Taking a deep breath, he explained everything. Every single thing that had happened since the start of senior year. He told him about how he had been attacked by Donovan, that he had ended up killing him. He told him about what Dr Valak had said about the Slough and the Nematon and the Dread Doctors, how everything was their fault. He told him about Lydia, and Malia, and everything in between. When he had finished, he took a deep breath, staring at his friend warily. When no reply came, Stiles buried his head in his hands, ashamed of what he had done. When he felt brave enough to look up, Scott had vanished. Looking to the door Stiles was relieved to see Lydia standing there, smiling encouragingly. When he looked past her, he saw Scott barging out of the swinging hospital doors, off to some unknown location.

Lydia moved beside him, perching on the bed and gripping his hand comfortingly. "He'll get over it Stiles. I did."

"Yeah, but you love me." Stiles was muttering, giving Lydia a worried glance as he stared after Scott.

She laughed, "Scott loves you too. Not in the same way, but he does. Your his brother Stiles, a few bad choices can't change that. He'll realise and then he'll come around." He was still staring at the door, so she pulled his head around so he was facing her. She smiled at him, and his eyes flicked down to her lips. The air in between them was bristling with energy, pulling the pair towards each other. Stiles looked up at her eyes once more, searching them for something.

"Do you think, maybe I could-"

"Stiles, just kiss me already." And with that, she pulled him towards her, closing the gap between them and sealing the kiss.

A/N:

This is not the end, there is more to come yet! I hope you've all been enjoying it so far, and I'd just like to thank everyone who's been favouriting, following or leaving reviews, it makes my day! I'll try and not be too long with the next update. Stay Classy, Icepoppy