Lydia paced the length of Stile's bedroom, and the rest of the pack sat on the bed, following her movements with their gaze. Scott, Liam, Kira and Mason were all trying their best to help Lydia calm down. Kira spoke up, "Lydia it's going to be okay, we're going to save him."

Coming to an abrupt halt, Lydia stared at her friend, "Kira you don't know that. You don't feel what I feel."

Mason looked highly confused, raising a hand warily, "Sorry I'm new to all this. Is this a banshee impending death feeling or something different?"

Rolling her eyes Lydia resumed her pacing, "It's different. Stiles and I have this weird connection. It's like there's this emotional tether between the two of us. Recently it's gotten stronger, and sometimes I feel what he feels."

Concerned, Scott stood up, standing in Lydia's path, causing her to stop, "And what's he feeling right now?"

Wide eyed and shaking, Lydia replied, speaking with a hushed voice, "Pain. Lots and lots of pain."

Stiles had been in pain before. For instance, when the Nogitsune had almost killed him, the pain had been overwhelming, his whole body turning into a big, dull, ache. When he had broken his foot, that was painful. Donovan's teeth ripping into his shoulder had been excruciating, however, nothing compared to this. Every fibre of his being felt as though it were burning, dissolving as though acid had been injected into his veins. With a glance at the strange tubes sticking out of his arms, he realised that that was quite possibly the case. The itch in his skull was infuriating, making him want to hit his head against the bed again and again. He was bound at the ankles and the wrists, so at least he was allowed some movement. When the pain became too much, he would thrash in his restraints, shouting and screaming at no one in particular. The only thing that was getting him through the ordeal was the thought that Scott was safe. Lydia was safe. Liam and Kira, they were all safe so long as he was down there.

His concept of time had been completely obliterated. There was no natural light in the old sewer room, and the only ticking noise came from the Dread Doctors not a clock. Gasping after a particularly loud scream he stared down at his arm, inspecting the large tube sticking out of it. It seemed to be split in two, with his own bright red blood going out one direction, whilst a strange silver, almost metallic looking substance was pumped into him. The substance had the odd quality of making his arm feel both numb and painful at the same time. Groaning he turned to inspect his other arm, where Liam had bitten him. The place where the bite had been was now just smooth skin, the wound having completely healed. Well at least that's something he thought, maybe my healing factor will start to kick in soon.

The Doctors had been breaking his ribs periodically. Only snapping one at a time, and studying how it started to heal if at all. Hearing the crunch of your own bones was sickening, and when coupled with the pain, Stiles found it nearly impossible not to vomit or pass out. However, he persevered, doing his best to stay strong for the pack. He screwed up his face as another wave of white hot pain hit him, crashing over his body. Straining against the bindings on his arm, he let another scream escape him. His hands were balled into fists, so when he felt a sharp slicing sensation in his palms, he opened them quickly. Staring down at his hands he blinked in surprise. Each of his fingers ended in a long, dark claw, which were all now coated in his own blood, as they had just been speared into his palms.

The change didn't go unnoticed by the Doctors, for all of a sudden all three of them were surrounding Stiles. They moved as a unit, not needing to talk to each other to communicate. Tired of the lonely silence, Stiles risked speaking up. "So what does this mean?" He waved his fingers about to indicate what he was talking about.

The leader turned its head to look at him, dark voice booming out of the slits in his metal mask. "Your condition improves. Healing factor seems amplified. Testing required." The third Doctor held up an instrument that Stiles had become all too familiar with.

"No no no!" Stiles pulled against his restraints, "Please not again. Can't we wait a while to-" he was cut off by his own harsh screams as the Doctor broke another rib. Panting, he looked at the leader, "Why are you doing this? What's the point?" Already he could feel his bone beginning to heal, and the pain was rapidly subsiding.

Studying the boy for a moment, the Doctor eventually replied, "Your condition improves." Then the three of them disappeared, the only trace that they had ever been there being the clicks and whirs that followed them.

Yelling in frustration Stiles shouted after them, "Do you always have to be so vague?! Can you at least tell me what day it is?" When no response came, he growled in anger. As the moments passed, he found himself getting angrier and angrier. Rage was building up inside him, appearing from nowhere, and he had no idea how to control it. He wanted to hurt something. To kill something. It was as though he had this uncontrollable bloodlust all of a sudden. Starting up his struggle to break free once again, he began pulling against his bindings. He found that he was making more progress, that he was rapidly getting stronger. In the midst of all his thrashing, he caught his reflection in the glass of some strange oversized test tube. Frozen, he studied himself.

It was unmistakably him, but so foreign at the same time. Facial hair, which he had usually struggled to grow, had sprouted in the form of thick sideburns that ran down to his jaw line. His forehead was distended, jutting out far more than usual, running down into his nose. His ears were much larger than usual, ending in elf like points. What shocked him the most was the colour of his eyes. They were glowing a bright, piercing blue. His heart plummeted and he felt the world caving in on him. Of course they're blue, did you really think they wouldn't be? Reprimanding himself mentally, Stiles gulped, You've killed more than one person idiot. Donovan, the people from the Sherriff's department, all the people in the hospital, it's your fault Allison died. Of course they're blue. He closed his eyes, no longer wanting to stare at the proof that he was a murderer. Some hopeful part of him thought that perhaps they would be a warm amber, due to the fact that he had been possessed when he had killed most of those people, and because Donovan had tried to kill him. Looking away he concluded that the rules were simple, and that he was a murderer.

He could feel the sharp teeth in his mouth, foreign and strange. The desire to wreak havoc was still strong, but seeing his reflection had reduced it slightly. Screwing up his face he thought hard. What would Scott say? How do I control this? Rapidly, he surfed through his memories of the past few years, and everything he did to help Scott gain control of his powers. Something Derek had said popped into his head:

Find an anchor.

Derek's had been pain, he stated that pain made him human, but clearly that wasn't working for Stiles. Scott had learned to be his own anchor, however, before that it had been..."Allison. That's it." Stiles voiced his sudden realisation, speaking to the empty space around him. Taking a deep breath, he focussed on the thing that had kept him grounded over the past month. The person who had always been the focus of his attention, who had been the centre of his world since the third grade. "Lydia. Lydia Martin. Fair skinned, strawberry blonde, amazing green eyes, five foot three, amazing kisser, super smart, kind, funny, the best laugh I've ever heard, loyal and brave. Lydia Martin. Releasing his breath he spared a glance at his reflection once more. He was back to normal, or as normal as he could be under the circumstances.

Lydia whipped around, tearing her gaze from the chaotic investigation board and setting it on her friends. "Did one of you just say something?" They all looked at each other in surprise, shaking their heads in unison. Frowning, she turned back to the board, "I could have sworn..." She trailed off at the end of her sentence, trying to shake the strange feeling she was getting. But there it was again, a voice that sounded distant yet wonderfully familiar.

"-laugh I've ever heard, loyal and brave. Lydia Martin." Stiles' voice came to a halt, and she was left in brooding silence once more.

"Stiles" talking to herself more than anyone else, she allowed herself a small smile. Her happy thoughts and reminiscing were interrupted by Liam, speaking cautiously from the safety of the bed:

"Lydia? Did you hear something?"

Frowning she stared at him, still not forgiving him for biting Stiles, "Oh apart from Stiles screaming in pain you mean?" When she saw the crestfallen look on the boy's face she felt bad. It wasn't his fault, he had no idea what Stiles was going to do. "I'm sorry. Yes, I heard him talking, about- about me."

Kira sighed, "Lydia that's sweet and all, but it doesn't really help us figure out how to take these guys down."

Perking up, Mason held up his finger, face plastered with excitement, "Well hold on, maybe it can!"

The boy's best friend shook his head in exasperation, "Mason what are you talking about?" Liam had clearly had more than enough of his friends crazed theories about the supernatural."

Mason seemed completely oblivious to this as he jumped up, approaching Lydia with great excitement. "Maybe you can use your connection, harness the power or something, to be able to talk to Stiles. Maybe even see him. There might be something he can tell you to help us take them down. Plus, I'm sure seeing you would do a lot to lift his spirits." Mason ended his statement by placing a gentle hand on Lydia's shoulder, smiling kindly at her. She studied him for a moment, clearly unsure of whether to be grateful or to snap at him. Her gaze slid over to Scott, who simply shrugged saying:

"It's worth a shot. Best plan we have so far."

Turning her gaze back to Mason, she nodded, "Okay, I'll try."

Mason positively glowed with excitement, "Great! Okay so just sit down on the bed, uhm, try focusing on Stiles. Or maybe the Dread Doctors? Oooh maybe you should think about the Hale House!"

Seeing the dangerous look on Lydia's face, Kira jumped in to save Mason, "Maaaaybe we should just leave her to it. Why don't we all go downstairs and have a snack break. Come on guys." She literally shoved them out of the door, giving Lydia an encouraging smile before closing the door, leaving her along in the room.

With a sigh, Lydia closed her eyes, trying to focus on Stiles. Sitting in silence for what felt like forever, she began to grow frustrated. Eventually she groaned, opening her eyes and standing up. "Come on Lydia, you can do this. Do it for Stiles." Taking her time she walked over to the window, opening it she took a deep breath of fresh air. "Stiles. Tall, skinny, weird Stiles. Stiles with the amazing amber eyes, who is the smartest guy I know. Stiles who listens to me and cares about me, who isn't afraid to call me out on my bullshit. Kind, protective, loyal Stiles. He's hilarious and exciting and handsome and I love him." Finishing her sentiment, she moved to close the window, feeling very foolish. However, just before she closed the latch, a familiar voice reached her ears.

" You really think I'm handsome?"

Spinning around she called out, "Stiles?! Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, now about that handsome thing-"

"You are such an IDIOT! How could you go down there alone? Why didn't you wait for the rest of us? Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Woah woah, Lydia! Calm down!"

"Don't tell me to be calm Stilinski! They could have killed you for God's sake."

His tone softened, and he laughed slightly, "Yeah, but I didn't. So really everything's fine, right?"

She rolled her eyes, "That is even worse than my logic, Stiles."

"Yeah I know, I know. It's really not so bad here though. I think these doctor guys are actually starting to like me!" His voice was full of forced enthusiasm, he was trying way too hard to sound hopeful and normal.

"Stiles you are just, like, the worst liar ever. We're connected Stiles, I can hear it when you're screaming. I can feel that you're in pain. And it kills me that I can't do anything to make it stop." Her statement was met with a long silence. Concerned, she called out, "Stiles, are you still there?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Lydia I want you to know something. This is all worth it. The pain, the solitude, hell even the rats. It's all worth it so long as it keeps you and Scott and everyone else safe. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." As he spoke, tears began to roll down her cheeks. "Man I forgot how beautiful you looked when you cry."

Gasping in surprise, she opened her eyes. The sight she was met with was shocking to say the least. Dark and dripping, the room was filled with all sorts of strange equipment, and in the middle of it all lay Stiles strapped to an uncomfortable looking bed. He grinned at her and she ran forwards, holding his hand and cupping his face. "Oh my god Stiles, what have they done to you?"

Sniffing, he croaked out, "What, this? 'Tis nothing but a flesh wound!"

Lydia laughed, which warmed Stiles's heart. In turn, he grinned, staring up at her face. Gently, she wiped a smudge of dirt from his forehead, before leaning down to kiss him. When she pulled back, his eyes were closed, contented grin spreading across his face. Kneeling down next to his head she held his hand with both of hers. "Stiles?"

"Hmmm?"

"Is there anything at all that you can tell me that can help us take these guys down? Anything at all?"

Staring at her, he thought for a moment, "Not really. I hardly ever see them, it's like clockwork. They come in, do a few tests, they leave. Just like that every few hours or something. Most of the time I'm slightly pre-occupied, so I haven't really noticed any weak-" he stopped mid sentence, staring at a point behind Lydia, "-spots. Hey Lyds, go take a look over there, see that big box with all the buttons?"

Rushing towards it she called out to him, "Yeah, what about it?"

"The third one's always hanging around beside it, like he's guarding it or something. I think something in their suits is what keeps them alive. Maybe that control panel has a way to turn them off?" He watched as she examined it. After a few minutes, she turned back to him, smile stretching her lips wide. Curious and excited, Stiles interrogated her, "What? Lydia what is it? Can you do it? What?"

"Stiles. You are a genius. I think I know how we can do this. All we need to do is-" before she could compete her sentence, she disappeared. In a sudden panic, Stiles called out for her:

"Lydia?! LYDIA! Come on!" He pulled against his restraints once more, desperate to find out where she had gone. Calling out to the doctors this time, Stiles flung threats at them. "I swear to god if you touch her! I'll kill you if you hurt her! You can't do this, we have a deal!"

Meanwhile, Mason was profusely apologising to a fuming Lydia. He had snuck into the room, hoping to see her banshee powers in action. When he had closed the door, her vision had been interrupted, dragging her back to the real world. The second she had spotted him she rounded on him, yelling at him about privacy and needing space and how he had almost ruined the whole thing. Clinging to a tiny scrap of hope, Mason spoke up, "Almost ruined?"

"What?" Snapped Lydia.

Gaining confidence, Mason returned to his bouncy self, "You said almost, which means I didn't ruin everything, which means that you found something out, which means..." he bounced slightly where he stood, waiting for her to finish the sentence.

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she answered, "Which means, I know what we have to do."