Ever since his fleeting encounter with Lydia, Stiles had been plotting a way to escape the Dread Doctors. The thought that she might be in danger was eating away at him, and he couldn't handle it. If they harmed her in any way, all hell was going to break loose. To prevent that happening, he had begun to fashion a plan to break free from his captors and rescue her. Every moment he had to himself, when the Doctors weren't performing some painful experiment on him, had been spent formulating this plan. Now he was just waiting for the gaping wound in his side to heal. The doctors had conducted one of their many biopsies on him earlier that day, cutting deep into his side and inspecting some of his vital organs. Not a pleasant memory.
Glancing down at his side, he urged his wound to heal faster. Every second he wasted healing, Lydia could be getting hurt. Painfully slowly, the wound finally finished knitting itself together, leaving nothing but a rapidly fading red mark in its place. Alright thought Stiles, here we go, now or never. Now that he had gained minimal control over his new powers, he managed to grow his fangs on command. Running his tongue along the razor sharp edges, he held his breath, preparing for what he was about to do. Screwing up his face in determination, he bit down hard on his tongue. Instantaneously his mouth filled with the metallic taste of his own blood. Forcing himself not to cry out, he bit harder. When his mouth was absolutely full, he began the act.
Knowing the doctors would be watching, Stiles began to convulse violently in his restraints. Simultaneously, he began coughing and spluttering, sending spatters of blood flying onto the floor and machinery around him. Acting quickly, the doctors appeared around him, taking registers of his condition. With wild eyes he stared up at them, gaze flicking from one to the next and then to the last before moving back and starting again. By now, the blood was just leaking out of his mouth in a disgusting froth, running down his neck and pooling on the bed.
Giving one final twitch and taking a shuddering breath, Stiles went limp, head lolling to the side, eyes shut tight. He could hear the panic of the doctors through the way they moved. His heightened senses let him know that they were all studying his body, trying to figure out what had happened. After a few moments filled with only the mechanical clicks of their suits, the leader spoke up. "Specimen deteriorates. Condition terminal."
The two words Stiles had been both dreading and hoping for at the same time. Before they had killed Tracy and Lucas, that had been what the creatures had said. Now it was his turn. His plan was highly risky, and totally depended on how the doctors acted in this situation, but if it helped Lydia he didn't care. Hearing the smooth sliding of the mechanical suits, he knew one of them had the needle at the ready. Panic began to set in, his plan wasn't working. He had hoped that the doctors would undo his bindings before killing him, giving him the chance to act. However, the cuffs remained steadfast against his skin. Crap. Oh crap oh crap oh crap. His thoughts dissolved into pure chaos as his doom drew closer and closer.
Icy cold and painfully sharp, the needle touched the skin of his neck. Desperately, he tried to speak, to convince them he was worth keeping, but he found his tongue had not yet healed properly, rendering him speechless. This is it. He thought, I'm gonna die, all alone. And that means the pack's in danger again. God I'm so STUPID. Wincing in pain as the needle dug into his flesh, he opened his eyes. If he was going to die here, he was going to look at the man doing it. Stare him down and make him watch as the life went out of his eyes. Of course, these creatures probably wouldn't care, but it meant something to him.
In his peripheral vision, he saw one of the Doctors begin to slowly push the plunger on the needle, forcing the lethal drug into his body. It had a very strange effect. He had expected pain, however, for the first time since he had been with the Doctors, the pain stopped. The numb feeling started in his neck, quickly spreading to his shoulders, making its way towards his heart. Somewhere in his mind, distant and useless, he registered that that would be a bad thing, that it would kill him. He found he couldn't bring himself to care. All of his thoughts were becoming murky, dissolving into the growing dark space that his mind was becoming. Staring now at the needle, he watched as the plunger met the half way point.
Vaguely he registered new sounds in the background, someone might be shouting, but he couldn't tell. Warmth was spreading across him, as though he were floating in a large bath. Considering he was dying, it was a very pleasant experience, one he just wanted to sink into. Looking up, he noticed that two of the doctors had disappeared, the third looking torn between Stiles and something else. Perhaps he would have found that odd, if he hadn't been retreating further into that delightful warm numbness. The third doctor was no longer pushing the plunger, leaving it stationary halfway down the syringe. Oddly, Stiles found himself wishing that he would continue, so that he could disappear completely into the pleasant dark nothingness.
Angry whirrs and yells reached his ears, and Stiles frowned groggily as the third doctor abandoned him completely, leaving the needle hanging out of his neck. Straining himself, he managed to lift his heavy head to inspect the rest of the room. To his surprise, it was full of people, all moving far too fast for his lethargic gaze to keep up with. He saw someone turn to him, yelling his name desperately. The vague outline told him it could have been Scott, but he found that he didn't really care. All he wanted to do was rest his head, close his eyes, and sleep.
Blinking slowly at the figure, who was still fighting with the Doctors, Stiles eventually gave into the desire, letting his head sink back, eyes sliding shut. The sounds of battle were rapidly fading, leaving nothing but a dull buzz in his ears. Eventually that even faded to silence, and he found himself alone in the cosy darkness. Content, he hung in limbo until something tore through the quiet, ripping him back to reality. A clear, terrified, heart wrenching sound that somehow made it through the thick fog of death and into his mind. Of all the shouts and cries of battle, this noise was the only thing he could hear clearly. "STILES!" Lydia. It was Lydia, she was crying, shouting his name again and again.
Something inside him clicked, suddenly he had the urge to keep fighting, to resist the toxins being pumped through his body. Feelings beginning to return to him, he was vaguely aware of the needle being removed from his neck. What he really felt, the thing that made his eyes shoot open, and his lungs take a much needed gasp of air, was the feeling of two warm hands on his face. Lydia's hands. Eyes now wide open, he stared at her, panic returning as he remembered the danger of the situation. Trying desperately to speak, his words came out slurred and messy, "Lylylyyyyd- d- dia? Did theyyyy huuur-hurt-t you?" He felt as though his brain were surrounded by cotton wool, unable to tell his body what to do. However, he was present enough to see the relieved smile on her worried face.
A small laugh even escaped her as she responded, "No Stiles, no I'm fine. Oh thank God you're okay! I thought I'd lost you!"
Smiling weakly he mumbled, "Wha? Nev-neverrrrr"
Laughing with relief, she leant down, kissing his forehead affectionately. The contact seemed to cleanse his body of the poison that had been affecting him so badly. All of a sudden, he felt totally aware of everything that was happening. He no longer felt lethargic and numb, in fact, all of his previous pain had returned with a jolting pop. It served the purpose of waking him up, making him highly alert and aware of the fighting still going on in front of them. Fear filled his eyes as he saw all of his friends battling for their lives against the Dread Doctors. Absentmindedly he began struggling against his restraints once more, desperate to get out and help them. Looking on helplessly, he saw one Doctor taking on Liam and Scott, Malia and Kira were both lying crumpled on the floor. Confused, he scanned the fight. Where are the other two? Turning to Lydia he voiced his concerns, "Hey Lyds, where-"
His sentence was interrupted by large metal hands grabbing him and dragging him from the table. Fear erupted inside of him, causing a flurry of shouting to escape him. "NO NO WAIT! PLEASE JUST WAIT! LET GO OF ME! JUST LET ME GO! NOOOOO!" He thrashed and flailed wildly against the Doctor who was now dragging him away from his friends, from his chance of being saved. During his struggles he saw Lydia being corralled back towards his friends by the second doctor. She was doing her best to reach him, his terrified screams tearing at her heart. However the Doctor simply pushed her back, away from Stiles as he was dragged away.
Lydia watched desperately as Stiles was dragged away from her. Listened as he screamed and called out for help. She felt so useless, so defenceless and frustrated that she couldn't save him. However, when she saw the Doctor holding Stiles produce a blade, holding it to the boys throat, something primal clicked inside of her. The threat to his life had stilled Stiles, and he let himself get taken further and further away, tears running down his terrified face. Lydia however, had sprung into action. She didn't know what made her do it, or how she managed it, but she turned a deadly gaze to the doctor in front of her. Taking a deep breath, she yelled, shoving his chest as she did so. The creature was knocked back by some invisible force, causing him to take a few stumbling steps away from her. Staring at her hands in shock, she started connecting the pieces in her mind. Meanwhile, the doctor was advancing towards her, arm outstretched. He grabbed her, forcing her backwards much more aggressively this time. Refusing to be tamed, she screamed at him, "LET ME GO!" and on the final word she shoved him with all her strength. Once again, some invisible power hit him, only this time it sent him flying backwards, crashing into some strange human sized test tube.
Not allowing herself time to process what she had done, Lydia turned back to where Stiles had been. To her dismay, he and the doctor had both disappeared down some dark sewer path. Abandoning her caution and fears, she ran after them, casting off her heels so that she could move faster. Sprinting, she tore down the slimy passageway, following the sound of Stiles' voice. He was trying to reason with the Doctor, voice thick with fear: "Please, you don't have to do this. Why are you doing this? Just let me go, you studied my change what more do you want from me? Please just let me go." Lydia could almost hear the tears as he spoke. She wasn't sure she had ever heard him being so afraid, and it only served as fuel for the instinctual power building up inside of her. Rounding the corner she spotted the pair she had been chasing. The Dread Doctor was pinning Stiles against the wall of the sewer whilst its head was turned to look directly at Lydia. Following it's gaze, Stiles saw her and began begging her to leave, "Lydia no, no please go it's not safe, he'll hurt you." He paused, and she saw a mental battle going on inside his head. After a couple of seconds, he seemed to have come to a decision which left fear and misery written across his features. But he still called out to her, "Leave me. Lydia, I'm asking you to leave me here. Leave me before he hurts you." His voice was shaking and his terror was obvious.
Shaking her head, Lydia took a step forwards, "Not a chance Stilinski."
Openly crying now, Stiles shouted, "Please Lydia just go! Get out of here!"
"Stiles, I am NOT leaving you here!" When she raised her voice in the middle of her sentence, a pulse of energy seemed to radiate off of her, travelling down the sewer before buffeting Stiles and the Doctor. Confused, they both stared at her, Stiles blinking in shock.
"Lydia?" he spoke to her cautiously.
"I REFUSE to go home and leave you HERE all ALONE." She was now marching forwards, and with each word she emphasised, another wave of energy flew off of her, hitting the other pair with growing force. Letting go of Stiles, who fell to the floor in a heap, the Doctor stepped into the centre of the hallway, facing Lydia squarely.
It spoke with an almost patronising lilt to its deep ticking voice, "The Banshee finally found its powers. Interesting. Does the Banshee know how to use them?" With lightning speed, the creature raised its arm, firing an arrow from a strange contraption on the arm of its suit. It went speeding towards Lydia, and Stiles shouted a warning as it flew towards her. Eyes widening, Lydia yelped in shock, instinct causing her hands to fly up in front of her face. She felt a tingle of an almost electric power in her palms, and looked just in time to see the arrow being buffeted off course by another wave of energy that she had seemingly created.
Turning slowly in the dark corridor, she stared at the doctor, who was standing in calculating silence. To the doctor, she looked angry, but to Stiles, she looked positively deadly. Looking at the expression on her face, he saw all the years of frustration at not knowing how to use her power coming to the surface. He could also see all the rage she had for the doctors, all of the pent up aggression that she never let out. Determination set the image like stone on her features, and she began walking quickly towards the creature, hands held like weapons at her sides. Knowing better than to interfere, Stiles used his small amounts of energy to crawl along the sewer floor in Lydia's direction, being sure to keep out of her way. She passed him when they were three feet from the lead Dread Doctor, and he twisted his body to watch what was about to happen. She began shouting out a list of names, and Stiles realised she was reciting the names of everyone the Doctors had killed. With each name, a hot wave of power pulsed off of her, brushing past Stiles and hitting the Doctor with full force. "This is for Tracy, and Lucas, and Josh, and John Stilinski, for Malia's mom, and for Stiles Stilinski!"
As she called out Stiles' name, Lydia grabbed the Doctor throwing him against the wall of the sewer with great force. When he made contact with the hard stone walls, something on his mask shattered. What followed was an almost pitiful sound as the Doctor gasped and wheezed for breath. The creature was clawing at his mask, trying desperately to fix whatever had caused the catastrophic failure of his breathing apparatus. Kneeling down in front of the doctor, Lydia watched him for a moment before pulling his arm away from his face. Reaching up to the fractured set of tubes at his neck, she leant in so that her mouth was right beside where his ears should be. "And this one's for me." And at that she pulled on the tubes with all her strength, tearing them from the mask, shattering one completely in the process. The Doctor gave one last panicked wheeze before it fell limp, silently sliding down the sewer wall.
Stepping backwards, she realised what she had done. She had just killed someone. Disgusted, she stared at her hands, rubbing them on her skirt as though she could wipe away her actions. Her freak out was interrupted by Stiles' voice echoing around the sewer. "Lydia? Lydia it's okay, calm down." She looked up and found him hobbling towards her, arms outstretched to pull her into a warm hug. Cracking, she began to cry, throwing herself at her friend. He held her tightly, doing his best to comfort her, "Shh, it's okay Lydia, shh it's alright."
"No its not. I killed him Stiles. I don't know what I was thinking! I just killed a man." She sobbed into his chest.
Stiles sighed, holding her at arm's length from him, staring into her eyes. When he spoke it was with a very serious, but very sincere tone of voice. "Lydia, listen. That thing killed so many people, and hurt so many more. He was going to kill me, and you, and all of our friends. That wasn't a person anymore, it was just a machine. You saved us Lydia. You saved me."
Sniffing she gazed at him with her watery green eyes. Finding solace in his gentle expression, she smiled, pulling his arm over her shoulder. "Come on, let's get you home." She said as she guided him back down the hall. Grateful for her help, he leaned heavily on her until they reached the main room once more. When they arrived, they were met with a messy scene. The box that Stiles had pointed out to Lydia before was smashed and sparking, wires hanging out at all angles. The two remaining Doctors lay motionless on the floor, masks smoking slightly. At first, Stiles was relieved, but then he saw the looks on everyone's faces. Then, he saw the body.