𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐘|𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢

𝟐𝟕. 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃

"Well, we walked to that little pond out there. We were going to stay out there for a period or two until after lunch, you know? And when we were about to settle down that Luke guy came out of nowhere and started taunting us. He wasn't even there for us, but for you, Stiles. And then- And then he-" Isaac teared up from the memory of what had happened. He was still shaken up from the fact that he had almost died nearly half an hour ago. The gun up to his head still flashed through his mind, and pull of the trigger ringing in his ears loudly.

Stiles bit his lip as he began to feel the weight on his shoulder from Lydia's body, and after mentally thinking about it, he decided where to set her down for the time being. He could tell Malia was up in her room, and Peter wasn't there at the moment, probably out and would be back that night. He laid a hand on the beta's shoulder, shaking his head at the waiting expression on Derek's face, almost as if telling him that the beta had been through it.
The demigod shuffled around Isaac, grabbing his wrist with his free hand and have Percy a look that told him through the tense air to follow them. Derek could smell the saltiness in the air as Isaac was pulled away from him and up the stairs most likely to his room. Isaac was crying. It hurt him as millions of scenarios flashed through his mind that could have possibly made his favorite beta cry.

Stiles walked Isaac up and opened the door where he and Percy had been sleeping, softly pushing him inside and patting Percy's shoulder. "Take care of him. He's going to need it. That gun... It probably brought up some... rough memories for him." Percy nodded, heading inside the room and shutting the door behind him.

The son of Hades let out a small huff of air and opened the door to Malia's room where she was currently watching tv. Her head swung over to look at Stiles, brow-raising as she saw Lydia over his shoulder. He smiled warmly at her, placing the unconscious strawberry-blond on the other end of her bed. Malia sighed, sitting up against her headboard and reaching out with grabby hands toward Stiles.
The demigod laughed, but complied and walked over to give her a hug. When he pulled away she tilted her head and asked him what had happened. Much like Derek, she heard Lydia's banshee scream, but couldn't pinpoint where it was as Lydia was more Scott's pack than Derek's. Stiles told her a brief summary of what had happened, making the were-coyote blink rapidly and thank whoever was listening for keeping them all safe.

"So now she knows?"

Stiles nodded, eyes leaving Malia's to look over the sleeping face of Lydia. "Not for long, but yes."

"What do you mean?"

Just as Stiles was going to answer her, Lydia had begun to shift in the bed. Her body moved a couple of times before her hand reached up to rub her face and groan as her eyes opened. The light from the room made it almost unbearable for the banshee, and as Stiles was hovering over her asking if she was okay she could only hear him through muffles. Lydia sat up slowly on the bed, eyes raking over her surroundings.
She took in Stiles sitting on the edge of the bed by her legs, and Malia comfortably under the covers beside her. She asked herself what was going on, and gasped when the day's events all started to come back to her. Everything she realized and found out. All that she saw with her very own two eyes. She had so many questions and felt like there wasn't enough time to ask them.

"Stiles! You! You did all... that!"

Both the were-coyote and demigod laughed, nodding. "What do you remember, Lydia?"

The banshee sat up fully, putting her back against the headboard as well, looking at Stiles Stilinksi, the boy she had always deemed weak.