Someone was moving around in his room. A cool hand brushed over his head.
"Stiles?"
"Lydia?" he mumbled. "What?" He opened his eyes to find her peering down at him.
"You're dad was worried. He left the spare key for me."
"Urrghhh." Stiles hid his face. "Nothing's up, Lyds. You can go now."
"I don't think so. How about you sit up so I know you're not sleeping, and we'll have a long overdue talk."
"All everybody wants to do recently is talk," he moaned. At Lydia's insistent look, he pushed the blankets back, slowly sat up and leaned back against the bedhead, still heavy with sleep. "Better?"
"Yes. Slightly."
Lydia sat on the bed and hung her legs over the side. She rested on her hip, one hand out to steady herself. It didn't look all that comfortable to Stiles, but he guessed she had to make compromises while wearing a tiny little floral skirt. Considering the weather was only just going into spring, Stiles was curious how Lydia wasn't feeling the cold. Maybe she considered sacrifices for fashion were that important. He certainly didn't. Give him comfort clothes any day.
"Have you been sleeping well recently?" Lydia asked him.
"I don't know, about as well as I normally do."
"So, not well."
"Lydia —"
"I'm trying to determine the reason for you sleeping more than nineteen hours straight. I can keep assuming, or you can tell me why." Lydia had innocent eyes that did nothing to disguise her determination.
Stiles narrowed his own eyes at her and blew out an annoyed breath.
Lydia raised her eyebrows, waiting. "You can tell me anything, Stiles."
"I know."
"So tell me. I'll help, you know I will. Why have you been hibernating like a bear?" She screwed up her nose and glanced around his room.
"Did you know bears actually wake up during hibernation? They aren't always sleeping the entire time."
"Stiles."
He made a frustrated and put-upon sound. "I don't know! I guess sleeping is easier than dealing."
Lydia nodded a little. "You have a heap of stuff to deal with. I get it. Actually, I wasn't surprised when your dad called and told me. Retreating is really common with PTSD."
"Yeah, I know the signs."
"Of course. The Nogitsune."
"Yep."
"You didn't even flinch when I said it. That's better than you were."
Stiles grunted. "Not my biggest concern right now."
"What is?" Lydia got up off his bed in a move that was smoother than Stiles would have thought possible, but well, it was Lydia. She stood at the window nearest the bed. "Okay if I?" She motioned to the shades which were still down. Stiles made a have-at-it motion and she pulled the cord and opened the window to let the air in. She breathed out and waved her hands. "That's better!"
"Are you saying my room smells?"
"I didn't say the words, but that's what my actions are implying. Your room is a den of man odor." Lydia opened the desk window next and the air circulated through the room. She sat back down on his bed. "So, what's the biggest concern?"
Stiles snorted. "I have more than one. They're all huge."
"Name one."
"We really doing this?" Stiles bent his legs up and hung his hands between his knees.
"Yes. Now name one or I'll phone your dad, tell him I can't help you and he'll call Scott's mom. Or the hospital. Or your therapist. Your choice."
Stiles groaned loudly, "Jeez, Lydia!"
"Tell me what you can. Push yourself, Stiles. You need to talk. So talk to me."
Stiles didn't know if he could tell her. They'd tried this before and it hadn't gone down well. It hadn't been that long ago either, only a couple of days. But this was Lydia, the most intelligent person he would ever know. The woman who forgave him for being a stalker-like idiot. Who'd become one of the most valued individuals in his life. She was a friend. She was pack. She was his family.
For all that, he focused on his hands while he spoke, unable to watch her reactions. "When I was possessed, I lost periods of time. Couldn't tell what was real and what was dream. Didn't always know what I was doing. Afterwards, I suffered from memory flashes. I remembered everything the Nogitsune did while it was me. Like it actually was me who had done all those horrible things."
"Stiles, that's not at all true."
He held up his hand to cut her off. "I've worked through a lot of that. I still have the memories, but I know what I did and what it did. I know the difference. I just mention it for comparison." He risked a quick glance up at Lydia before dropping his eyes once more. "The worst bit about changing into a Fae is that I'm back to being so confused. I'm confused all the damn time. I don't know what's going to happen. I'm worried I'll loose everything. I'll loose my dad, you, Scott, everyone. I have moments when I can feel how different I am now, and it scares me because it feels so right that I don't know how I lived before without knowing what it was to be Fae." Stiles rubbed his hands over his thighs. "And if it feels like that now, what about when I finish changing or whatever. What if I'm no longer worried about loosing all of you? Am I going to be fine walking away from my life?"
Lydia shook her head. "That would never happen."
Stiles put his hands to his face and scrunched himself up, not able to tell her that he was certain it would because even now there was a part of him that wanted to do just that. And it was growing.
Lydia knelt on the bed and enclosed him in a hug that Stiles could feel in nearly every inch of himself. "I also found out the Nogitsune is influencing me," he said quickly, hiding his face in her shoulder. She froze for a split second. "You don't need to worry. It's gone. But I've been told no one gets out of a possession without changing. I've been infected and will now always be more inclined to," he swallowed, unable to finish saying it.
"Do the wrong things?" Lydia asked, and Stiles nodded. "What lie is that? Did the Fae tell you that? Don't believe it, Stiles!"
"You don't know what I think about, Lyds. What about the other night, huh? I wanted you to be scared of me, I wanted your fear. What the hell is that if not the Nogitsune?"
Lydia shook her head again. "I don't know what it was, not for sure. I was scared until I thought about it, but now I have a theory."
"What?"
"I could be really wrong. Completely mistaken."
"You're never that wrong."
Lydia twisted her lips. "I've done some research on PTSD."
Stiles rolled his eyes. Not everything could be because of that.
"Some sufferers deal with their trauma by putting it onto others. Maybe I was the lucky recipient of your projecting."
Stiles was confounded by her composure. "Even if that's what it was, that doesn't make it okay!" And he didn't believe it. Being a dick to someone didn't normally include sucking on their fear like they were a juice box.
"I'm saying it could be an explanation."
Stiles held the bridge of his nose. "Scaring you so I feel better? No, it was more than that. Your fear was inside me." He wanted Lydia to tell him it was nothing, because being able to do anything like the Nogitsune was scary as fuck, and Stiles was incredibly worried about what it said about him, about who he was and what he was capable of.
"Have you felt it at any other time?" she asked, unconcerned.
Stiles was annoyed by her attitude. He rubbed at his bottom lip with his fingers, considering her question but also preventing himself from yelling. "Scott and Derek have been doing this wolf thing where their touch makes me feel calm."
"That's not a werewolf thing, Stiles." Lydia sounded certain.
"That's what they say! But it so is!"
"Otherwise, what? Otherwise, it's you?"
"Me?"
"Stiles, you're Fae. Fae are supposed to be able to do lots of things. One of them being the manipulation of people's emotions."
"I'm manipulating the way people are feeling?" Holy God. It was worse than he thought.
"No! That's not you, and if there's one thing I know, being Fae is not going to change what makes you fundamentally you."
"I've been told that." And it didn't actually make him feel all that better about things.
"I can guess from who." Lydia sounded unimpressed. "What if this ability to feel other people's emotions is all you? Not Derek, not Scott, not a 'wolf thing'? When I hugged you just then, what did it feel like? Just a hug? Or more?"
"More, I guess."
Stiles wanted to believe Lydia was wrong about this. Hugging was known to be one of the most complex ways people communicated with each other. Sensing things didn't have to mean he'd been pulling on her emotions again. Because if it had, he'd been doing it to Scott. And to Derek.
"How?" Lydia asked. "More in what way?"
Stiles huffed, "This is stupid, Lydia."
Lydia wasn't dissuaded by his attitude. "I'll tell you why I hugged you. You're going through so much and feel so very alone and it's not true. I wanted to show you that I'm here for you."
Stiles wasn't sure what to say.
Lydia tilted her head, considering. "You felt that?"
Stiles was slow to answer. "Mostly, yeah, but that could just be intuition. We know each other really well."
"Did it have a physical sensation? Does it now?" Lydia leant over and hugged him again. Stiles pulled back, or tried to, but he was up against the bedhead and Lydia was stuck on him like a lympit. There was nowhere for him to go. "Stiles, you're not going to hurt me," Lydia said into the hug. "Just try it. You're safe with me, I'm safe with you."
Stiles couldn't help the half-crazed laugh that came out of him. Safe was a relative term at best.
But when Lydia just kept holding him, he sucked in a breath and closed his eyes and leant into her hug. He opened himself up, trying for the first time to actually work out what he'd been doing all those times he'd felt something from someone. He had no idea if he was doing it right, or if there was anything he was actually doing.
Suddenly he could feel it. The warmth. It flowed over him like a cloth being dropped, floating through where Lydia touched him. Just like with Derek and Scott. But this time there was a deeper understanding. He could feel love-safe-trust coming from Lydia. They were like emotional bursts of sensation, with the warm feeling of comfort overlapping everything. He gasped, and pulled back. "Holy crap, it's me??"
Lydia nodded, still acting like this wasn't a huge deal.
She may have thought it was okay, but if it was him that meant ... Stiles didn't know exactly what that meant. All those times, it had been him? "You said something about making people feel things?"
Lydia shook her head. "I don't think you are. Try it on me."
"What? No!"
"Just do it, or you'll worry." Lydia understood him all too well sometimes.
"Fine!" Stiles took Lydia's hands when she held them out for him. He closed his eyes, feeling like an idiot, and thought about how he wanted Lydia to feel. Something good, obviously. He tried to push good feelings at her but nothing happened. He dropped her hands as quickly as he could. "You feel any of that?"
"Just how dry your skin is getting. Do you even own moisturizer?" At Stiles' flat stare, she smiled and shook her head. "Nothing, just like I thought. You can always practice on Scott and Derek if it would make a difference."
"No. I'm good not being able to do it. I don't want to manage it by accident if I keep trying." He bit his lip and looked away. "Lyds?" he asked.
"Hmm?"
"Did it hurt?"
"No, Stiles," she said gently. "I didn't feel anything."
"What about the other night?" He didn't really want to ask about that, but he needed to know.
"I didn't feel anything, there was no pain, Stiles. I didn't even know you were doing it."
Stiles let out a huge sigh. "You sure? You're not just saying that?"
"No. If you were hurting me I'd let you know." Lydia put her hand over his. "You are not the Nogitsune, Stiles, even if you now have a similar ability. You don't feed on emotions do you?"
Stiles shook his head, "I don't think so." Did that make him worse in some ways, because he just enjoyed it and it wasn't necessary for his survival?
"Do you want to cause chaos and strife through hurting people?"
"God, no, Lyds!"
"Then if the Nogitsune left an influence in you or even if it's a fae ability only, or a mix of both, you're still not a danger to people."
Stiles found himself grabbing onto her words desperately. She was so certain, so sure. Perhaps he should just trust her on this. He nodded slowly. "Okay."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Stiles found himself breathing easier with one worry gone, or at least not as big as it had been before.
Lydia was pleased. "You know what this means, right? You're magic. You can do magic."
He nodded again, not sure where she was going with this. Lydia could do things, too. Banshee things. He supposed that meant she was magic, though he'd never thought of it like that. Did that make their werewolf buddies magical, or was it only certain types of supernaturals that were seen as such? He guessed it depended on how magic was defined.
"I can do magic, sort of, yeah."
He'd been able to before though, right? Spark related things. But something told him the Fae magic Lydia was talking about was vastly different to sprinkling mountain ash and believing in himself.
Lydia gave him an understanding smile. "Think of it as an affirmation for the amazing person you are, Stiles. Trust me, it makes it easier to deal. And you do it one day at a time."
Stiles reached out and curled a strand of her silky hair round his finger as she continued to smile gently at him. Lydia had come to terms with being able to hear spirits. He could take her advice on how to deal with being able to take people's emotions.
Despite himself, Stiles found his mouth twitching into its own smile. "I want my Hogwarts letter now."
***
They'd made fruit smoothies and took them outside to sit under the sycamore.
Stiles was lying on his belly on the grass in a big patch of sunlight, sipping his drink. He didn't worry anymore about astral projecting anywhere. Lydia had mentioned intent was required to do it, so he was pretty comfortable right where he was.
"I'm going to tell you something, okay?" Lydia stirred her drink with a spoon as she stretched her legs out, leaning up against the tree trunk.
"Hmm?"
"We've been asking you to tell us everything. Our hearts were in the right place, but we're still asking a lot. Maybe it's because we almost lost you and are holding on too tightly now, but we haven't given anything back."
"What?" Stiles squinted over at her. "Lydia, I don't expect you to tell me things just because I've been through some stuff. That's not how friendship works."
"There should be quid pro quo somewhere in there, though. Otherwise it would be a rather one-sided friendship."
"Having a hand in saving my life is pretty decent exchange." Stiles finished his drink and flipped over onto his back. "Come join me." He held his arms up towards her.
Lydia stood and brushed down her skirt. "You feel comfortable talking to me?" she asked as she settled beside him, resting her head next to his so they touched.
"Yeah, of course."
"Well, I want you to know I feel comfortable talking to you, too."
"I know you do, Lyds."
"No, I mean I can talk to you like I can't with anyone else."
"Cool."
"So, I want to talk to you."
"Isn't that what we're doing?"
"I'm sort-of dating Jordan Parrish."
"What now? When did that happen? And what do you mean, sort-of?"
"We became friends over the whole hell hound thing and it just progressed. We've been taking it slow. Glacially slow. It's been nice." Lydia sounded pleasantly surprised. "I didn't know it could be like that."
"Like how?"
"Comfortable. I'm not trying to be someone with him. I'm just me."
"Then he's an incredibly lucky deputy, because you're one hot commodity."
"Stiles —"
"No, I mean it! I don't want to wax poetic on your assets, because let's face it, I've done enough of that."
Lydia snorted through her smile.
"Lyds, you're an incredible woman. Parrish better treat you right."
"He has been so far."
"Good." He squeezed her hand. "Does anyone else know?"
"No. He's older than me, which will be a problem for my mom even though you wouldn't think so. It was better to wait to tell people until I was eighteen."
"Oh, my God, Lydia, I meant to say something to you. Happy Eighteenth Birthday." He gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"Thanks, Stiles," Lydia smiled.
"Please tell me that someone showed you how much you're loved. Everyone wasn't being a self-absorbed dumbass like me, were they?"
"Kira and Malia had a small cake, which wasn't edible. Don't let Malia cook, ever. And my mom remembered of course." Lydia was still smiling and a slight blush rose over her cheeks. "Jordan took me out for dinner the next night, one town over."
Stiles laughed. "I'm so glad. I would have got you something but I didn't remember."
"Stiles, I didn't expect anything."
"But it was your eighteenth, Lyds. That's huge. You didn't even have a party!"
"The picnic could count."
"No way! Not everyone was there! There was no edible cake, or presents!"
"No. I didn't want a huge party, Stiles. I still don't."
"I'm talking a nice quiet soiree. With pack, your mom, Scott's mom, my dad, Parrish. And a jumping castle."
Lydia laughed slightly but then grew serious. "No. I don't want that, even though it sounds fun. I'm good with what I had."
"You sure?" Stiles wasn't convinced.
"Yeah. I got the best present I could ever ask for anyway." Lydia put her face on his shoulder. A warm slow glow filled with happy-content floated along his side where she lay. He didn't try to stop it, it wasn't hurting anything.
"The best present, huh? What? Did Parrish buy you a pony?"
"Funny. No. I got you back."
"Lyds."
"I haven't told you, but you could guess how hard it was for everyone when you were gone." Lydia's grip on him got tighter. "Then we got you back and the doctors were acting like we were going to loose you again. Did you know it was Derek who found you? We were all there, searching the buildings for that orange tree painting because Scott couldn't remember which one it was on."
Stiles shook his head. "Figures."
"When we found it, Derek raced up the stairs that were on the outside of the closet building and through an open door and I thought he'd found you dead." Stiles rubbed his chin on the top of Lydia's head. She snuggled closer. "He howled and I panicked. Scott ran up and went inside. Derek carried you down the stairs and I thought your dad was going to pass out. Scott wasn't much better and Derek just about took his arm off when he touched you." Lydia had a hitch in her breath and Stiles could feel his shirt getting damp where her head lay.
"Lyds, you don't have to tell me this."
"Getting you to the hospital is still a blur to me. I remember sitting in the waiting room. I was sure you'd be okay, but I was so worried I was wrong." Lydia sighed and squeezed him. "Then you got through the first week, then the second, and you kept getting better. I don't remember stopping breathing when you were gone. But I remember starting again when I was certain you'd live."
Stiles took Lydia's drink and placed it behind him. He didn't care if it tipped over or not. He turned onto his side and tucked Lydia into his chest. He put his arm over her and tightened his hug.
***
They'd gone back inside afterwards and, as Lydia's smoothie had become collateral damage, they made another batch after Lydia had fixed herself up in the bathroom. Stiles couldn't even tell she'd been crying only half an hour before.
"I'm surprised you want another drink. Your first one was huge," Lydia commented.
"What can I say? I've found a new appreciation for fruit." Stiles sat down at the table.
"But a lot of fruit contains high levels of Vitamin C. Aren't you supposed to be limiting that to help with your iron?"
"Talking about what foods I can and can't eat is extremely boring, Lyds. I just go with what's on the list." He waved at the fridge door. "Fruit is on there. I eat it. I like it. Actually, I could drink a tone of these but dad's grumbling about buying fruit when its not in season. Add the hospital bills and it's not like I can blame him. We must be up to our eyeballs in our own national debt, but he won't let me anywhere near any of it to find out." At Lydia's quickly hidden grin, Stiles cocked his head and set down his drink. "What was that?"
"Nothing." Lydia sucked on her straw innocently.
"Lyds, if you know something I'd like to hear it. I'm actually pretty worried about our ability to pay everything we owe."
"Fine. Just so you can have one less thing to worry over. I overheard your dad talking to one of the hospital clerks. I wanted to help so I phoned Jackson."
"Jackson?" Stiles got a bad taste in his mouth.
"His dad called your dad who let him look into your situation. There was a case to be made about where you were found, duty of care by the buildings' owners. Anyway, your bills were mostly paid by the company who own the building you were found in."
"You're joking."
"No."
"Why would Jackson help me? Why would his dad? I kidnapped his son." Stiles watched Lydia calmly take another sip of her drink. "What did you do, Lydia?"
"I reminded Jackson about some of the things I've done for him over the years."
"You blackmailed him?!" Stiles had a nasty thrill at the thought. "Lydia! I love you!"
"No, I did not! I merely leaned on his soft side and he agreed to help." Lydia was all wide-eyed blinking eyelashes.
Stiles scoffed in disbelief, "Jackson doesn't have a soft side."
"He did with me. He still does."
"You're not going to tell me what made him help me, are you?"
"No. It was one of the stipulations I agreed to." Lydia lent back against the kitchen bench. She took another sip of her drink.
Stiles was experiencing a weird feeling. "I don't know if I should be upset you won't tell me, or just immensely grateful and let it go."
"Be immensely grateful and let it go."
"Dad was alright with Jackson's dad doing this?"
That didn't sound like his dad. The hospital bills must have been astronomical.
Lydia shook her head as she tried not to laugh. "He was pretty annoyed to be getting help and not be able to tell him where to go. Your dad called Mr. Whittemore a 'jacked-up, low-brow' something-or-other. I get the impression he dislikes him a lot."
Stiles nodded. "It runs in the families. Jackson's people are douches, mine hate them for it."
"They both saved your family's hide."
"Don't say that! It makes it sound like I owe him. I'm going to be sick." Stiles made a show of pushing his drink away from him across the table.
"You don't owe him. It was one of my stipulations."
Stiles grabbed his drink back with both hands. "I've said it before and I'll say it again. You're a goddess among women, Lydia. A veritable super hero. You're my very own Wonder Woman!"
***
Even though Stiles had slept for almost one day straight, he found himself yawning as Lydia sat with him on the couch. They were watching a space documentary that had him blinking slowly and continuously within minutes. Lydia grabbed his arm and pulled him until he tipped sideways, his head ending up on her leg.
"Everyone is so touchy-feely with me now," Stiles noted.
"I can stop if you want." Lydia didn't remove her hand from his side.
"No, I like it. Lots of hugs and comfort for me!" he joked. Lydia patted him and he made an exaggerated sigh of happiness. He even wriggled for extra emphasis.
Lydia laughed a little. "You're a big puppy. Could be part of the reason you get along so well with Derek."
Her bland tone didn't fool Stiles for a second. "I know what you're doing, Lyds."
"There's one thing you've managed not to talk about, Stiles."
He frowned. "It's just hard, okay?"
"Tell me. I already know, you know I already know."
"Fine! I just don't know how to say it out loud."
"Say the words like you're saying them to yourself. You keep so much inside you it's become a habit. Breaking that is hard."
Stiles was quiet. He watched the TV for as long as it took an astronaut to show how water reacted to being squeezed out of a cloth in zero gravity. "I'm in love with Derek," he finally said, raising his head off her knee.
"I know," Lydia said, smiling supportingly.
"It's not a good thing, Lyds." Stiles sat up. "It just means I'm going to screw up our friendship."
Lydia raised her eyebrows. "What? Why would that happen?"
"Because I can't do this for much longer without acting on how I feel. You know what I'm like when I have feelings for someone."
Lydia laughed a little, though not unkindly. "You aren't known for hiding your heart."
"Exactly!"
"Would that be so wrong?"
"Yes! Derek doesn't deserve to have me throwing myself at him!"
"I doubt you'd throw yourself," Lydia sounded amused. "Not right away, anyway."
Stiles was annoyed she didn't get what he was trying to say. He tried again. "It's been less than a week since we started pack bonding. I don't want to loose it. It's already one of the best things in my life."
"Pack bonding?"
"Scott asked Derek to stay to become pack and Derek's been forming the bond with me."
"You think what's between you and Derek is a pack bond? Stiles, really?" Lydia said shook her head at him like he'd done something stupid. "You're living in denial."
"No, I'm not." Stiles sank back into the couch.
"Yes you are. The first and most important reason for Derek to agree to being part of the pack was you."
"What?" Stiles crossed his arms over his chest.
"Derek came back because of you. He stayed because of you. We all know how much he cares for you."
"Pack bonding."
"It doesn't mean what you've convinced yourself it does! Does Derek touch Scott the way he touches you? Does he touch me like that? Do you see him touching Liam at all?"
"No, but he could be —"
"Don't be obtuse, Stiles. It doesn't suit you. You've concocted some silly pack bonding scenario to help you deal and your brain is so messed up, it makes sense to you! Pack bonding can be as simple as spending time together, appreciating who the other person is and accepting that person as part of the pack. Is that what you and Derek have been doing?"
"Yes!"
Lydia tapped her fingernails on her leg. "I'm not explaining this very well. Derek touches you like he needs to, Stiles."
"He's been helping me stay calm," Stiles shrugged.
"He's been spending every day he can at your side."
"He's helping me to get better."
"He doesn't need to do those things."
"Everyone's been doing those things! It's pack stuff!"
"No! You are infuriating! We don't do these things because you're pack but because we love you. Do you get what I'm telling you?"
Stiles had a sharp pain between his eyes. He nodded and agreed, "I'm loved."
"Now you're being a jerk and you promised not to do that. Stop hiding, Stiles, and accept the fact that people love you."
That struck a chord in him. "Derek said something similar to me."
"And yet you're still not listening. Every one of us loves you. You are worth loving."
"Okay." Stiles had to accept that, didn't he. He was loved. The fact they wanted to be around him was proof enough, even after everything he'd put them through.
"Okay?" Lydia frowned.
"Sure. If you guys want to love me, I'm good with that." Stiles smiled at her.
Lydia's eyes narrowed. "I have a new respect for your dad. Raising you would not have been easy."
"Hey!" He frowned, but his offense was mostly for show because he agreed with her.
"We all love you, Stiles."
"I get it!"
She sighed in exasperation, "No, you really don't, but it's not my place to say anything else. I want to, but the next part is up to you and Derek." Lydia took his hand. "Just keep this in mind, Derek doesn't do what he does because of pack, and not because you're sick. There's so much more to it than that."
Something about the way Lydia spoke convinced Stiles she was being totally serious, if not infuriatingly confusing with her need to enforce his belief that people cared for him.
He nodded. "Okay. I'll remember what you said."
"Good." Lydia let his hand go. "You still feel like sleeping?"
Stiles had a yawn coming just from Lydia bringing his attention back to how tired he was. "Yeah." Lydia stood up as he stretched back out on the couch. "You going?"
"No. I'll stay."
"Cool."
Lydia pulled a blanket over him. "I'm going to call your dad and tell him you're okay. I should have called him earlier. I'm surprised he hasn't been calling you."
"He said he'd call. He's probably busy."
"Go to sleep, Stiles. I'll be here when you wake up."
***
Stiles should really stop listening to conversations he wasn't a part of.
It was a bad habit he'd done since his mom got sick. He'd worked out his dad, his mom, the doctors, and even complete strangers were keeping things from him, so he learnt what he needed to know by being sneaky. He hadn't grown out of it, just gotten better at it. It had even saved the pack's asses a few times.
Regardless, when he woke up he should have made some noise to let Lydia know he was awake.
She was on the phone in the kitchen. After a bit, she walked into the living room and dropped her phone on the table with a frustrated sound.
She turned to Stiles, not surprised he was awake. "How much of Scott being an idiot did you hear?"
Stiles propped himself up on an elbow. "Not a lot," he lied. "He giving you a hard time about me?"
"Nothing I can't handle." She sat down on the opposite couch. "How are you feeling? Still tired?"
He was but he shook his head, and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. "What stupid thing is Scott doing now?"
Lydia scoffed, "He's annoyed you won't talk about stuff. He assumes you're under too much mental and physical strain and he's angry he can't fix things for you. But I don't think it's anything you can't handle with help. You're doing remarkably well."
Stiles gave Lydia his best 'Are-you-insane?' look.
She wasn't fazed. "It's been what? Nine days since you got home. Give yourself some credit."
Stiles didn't have anything to say to that. He wanted to go easy on himself, but he couldn't. In those nine days there'd been mishaps and trauma, both physical and psychological. Perhaps if he was looking at it from the outside he'd be able to see it differently. But he wasn't. It was personal and painful.
He put his hand into the sunlight coming from the windows. He watched the light blend into him, soak into his finger bones. He twisted his wrist around and wriggled his fingers. "I'd like to go for a walk," he announced.
"Are you up to it?"
"I don't know. But sitting at home is beginning to drive me nuts. I want to go outside and move. I feel better than I did a week ago. I wouldn't have to go far."
"I don't know, Stiles." Lydia was eyeing his hand where he was still holding it up. "Can you wait until you talk to your dad about it? One of us should go with you."
"Yeah, sure." He dropped his hand.
"Where would you like to go?"
Now that he'd had the idea to get out of the house, he wanted to go the preserve. That wouldn't be happening though. No one would be letting him near the Nemeton or the fae any time soon. So he didn't suggest it. Instead, he told Lydia, "I'd like to go for a walk in the woods out the back of my house."
"Are you sure? It could be a bit too much," Lydia said, concerned.
"No, it's not. There's a forest trail that runs off the fire break. I know it really well. Scott and I used it for bike riding. One part of it circles around in the wood and meets itself again after half a mile. That's nothing! At my walking rate it would only take me an hour or so. Plus, I don't need to walk the entire thing."
The more he thought of the tracks in the woods, the more he wanted to go. He didn't really care if Lydia told him not to or if his dad agreed with her. He'd go the moment he was alone.
"Well, just talk to your dad first, okay?" Lydia asked.
"Okay," Stiles agreed. He wasn't sure he would, but he'd think about it at least.
***
Stiles sat across from his dad in the kitchen, trying to work out how to fix the situation between them. He wasn't having much luck. He sighed and pushed his spoon around in his soup. His dinner was another of Lydia's research meals. Split pea soup. He bemoaned the loss of bread in his diet which meant he couldn't just have a banana sandwich.
"Stiles." His dad was equally unhappy with his tofu steak.
"Yeah?"
His dad pushed his plate away and sighed. "I just wanted to say, I'm sorry."
Stiles dribbled the soup from his spoon back into the bowl. "For what?"
"Are you joking?" His dad's tone was serious as he eyed him.
Stiles raised an eyebrow, "Have you done something lately I'm not aware of?" That was something his dad said to him. It was kind of weird, yet also somewhat amusing, to parrot it back.
His dad narrowed his eyes, unimpressed.
Stiles continued, "No, really. I'm the one who's continually stuffing up here. I'm the sorry one. I honestly have no idea why you're apologizing."
His dad said, slowly, "So, we're both sorry?"
"Yep. Guess so." Stiles still had no idea why his dad thought he needed to be.
"We're good?"
"Guess so."
"Look, I know I'm not handling this as well I as could. Knowing you're not human anymore is not as easy to deal with as you'd think."
Stiles said, dryly, "I know how hard it is, Dad."
"Yeah, of course." His dad was a bit flustered. "But you're my son and I'm doing something wrong if I can't even protect you in our own house. I'm the God-damn Sheriff and my son was taken pretty much from under my nose! What does that say about me?"
"That no matter how hard you try, there are too many variables to plan for each thing that may eventuate. If someone wants to do something as nutty as kidnap someone, they're going to work it out so they can."
His dad leant back in his chair. "Those are wise words."
"They're yours. It was your speech at a police training two years ago, bar the kidnapping bit. You spoke more generally. I made it more relevant for our situation." Stiles waved his hand between the two of them.
"You remember my speech?"
"Well, yeah." He shrugged as he twirled his spoon around, making eddies in the soup.
"Did I even show it to you?"
Stiles glanced up at his dad. "Possibly. Look, it doesn't matter if you showed me or if I found it in your desk drawer, the point is the words were true then and they're true now."
His dad shook his head at him. "You're pretty smart, kiddo."
"I take after my old man."
His dad snorted. "Are you going to eat that?" He pointed at Stiles' bowl.
"Am I allowed to say, hell no?"
His dad screwed up his face. "What is it anyway?"
"Something that died. And then came back. Died again. Was buried. Dug up. Put in a blender and pureed. Then used as a ritual sacrifice."
"Normally I'd make a comment about your ability to over-dramatize things. But in this case, you're spot on."
"I am, kinda. It's split pea soup. In the original Exorcist movie that's what they used for the vomit."
"Now I know that, it's even more disgusting. Please put us both out of our misery and throw it away."
"I agree with that plan. Give me your tofu steak, they can be bin buddies."
"Really?" His dad couldn't push his meal over fast enough.
"Really. I'm surprised you let me give it to you." Stiles pondered his next words as he carried his dad's dinner over to the bin. "It's come to my attention recently that I may have gone a bit overboard with your diet."
"Who got you to admit to that?" His dad was wary.
Stiles could understand why. The sheriff's diet was a well-known subject of mirth around the station. He'd tried for years to get Stiles to ease up.
His dad suddenly grinned. "Just so I know who to thank and give a gift voucher to at Christmas."
Stiles rolled his eyes, then as he walked back to the table to get his soup said, nonchalantly, "Derek."
"Hmm, Derek. I wonder if he was going for brownie points?" His dad rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"What for? He was just making an observation." Stiles scooped the soup out of the bowl and flipped the bin lid shut.
"Your ability to ignore things is truly remarkable," his dad scoffed at him.
Stiles had lost the thread to this conversation. "I honestly don't know what you're talking about."
"I know, and it's amusing as all hell."
His dad was trying not to grin. Stiles just didn't know why. He shook his head and dropped the subject. Whatever it was. "What do you want for dinner?" he asked.
"Pizza?"
"Okay."
"Seriously?" Stiles' dad narrowed his eyes. He leant back on his chair and appraised his son. If anyone was ever curious as to why Stiles was a suspicious bastard, they need look only so far as his dad.
"Yeah."
"What do you want me to agree to? Or, what have you done that I don't know about?"
Stiles sighed. Sometimes his reputation was a hindrance. "I may have had an idea about something today and want you to okay it. I promised Lydia I'd talk to you about it."
"You're not joining the navy are you?"
Stiles stared at him, somewhat perplexed. "How is that even a feasible idea?"
His dad shrugged. "It's a worth-while profession."
Stiles didn't want to know how his dad's mind worked sometimes. "No. I don't want to join the navy," he snorted loudly. "I want to go for a walk on the forest trails." He pointed out the kitchen window for emphasis.
"Oh. The community health trails?"
Stiles nodded. He was going anyway, but he'd like his dad to be okay with it.
"When did you want to do it?"
"As soon as possible."
"Is there someone who can go with you?"
"Derek, maybe?"
Stiles imagined being in the woods with Derek. They'd walked through the preserve together for pack business, but this would be different. No need to rush anywhere, just the two of them, surrounded by trees and sunlight. It was a highly appealing scenario. He pushed down the weird and strong emotions that had just risen up in him.
"You're not going to overdo it and end up sleeping for a day again, are you?"
"No," he shook his head slowly.
"Well then, it should be fine."
The intense feelings of need and want rose in Stiles again as he pictured Derek in the forest with him. This was the best idea he'd had in ages.
"Yes! You are the greatest dad ever."
"I know. Now let's order me that pizza."
***
Stiles was getting ready for bed when his phone pinged. He found it underneath some stuff on his desk. He checked it and found a couple of texts and a missed call from Scott earlier that afternoon. He sat on his bed and read through his missed texts, including the one from Derek that he'd mentioned.
Scott's text said he'd be over on the weekend to hang out if he wanted. Stiles sent a quick affirmative, and then tried to work out how to ask Derek to go walking with him. Eventually he sent:
- Hey. I was thinking about going for a walk tomorrow. Did you want to come with?
It was open enough that Derek could decline if he wanted and it didn't let on just how badly Stiles wanted him to say yes. He jostled his knee up and down and tapped his foot while he waited for Derek's reply.
Stiles wasn't sure why he was so involved in the idea of being alone with Derek in the forest, but he had a pretty good suspicion that the fae parts of him were to blame. He liked being around Derek anywhere, but being out in nature with him, surrounded by trees and air and earth and the sunlight? The complete need for that was definitely not a human-based desire.
His phone pinged and it startled him so much he almost dropped it. He ended up doing a kind of fumbling juggling act before he got his hands to work and managed to catch the phone before it hit the floor.
Derek's text read:
- Where did you want to go?
Did that mean Derek would go with him or was just curious, or both? Stiles wanted to ask, but didn't.
- There are trails out the back of my house.
Derek's reply was almost instant.
- You up for it?
There was that concern that Stiles liked so much. He smiled as he replied:
- Yeah. You can come over whenever you like.
Derek took his time answering, and Stiles started jiggling his knee again.
- I've got some stuff to do in the morning, but I can come afterwards.
Stiles let out a whoop and then winced, hoping it hadn't disturbed his dad. He dropped his phone on his bed as he fell back. He put his arms out above his head and gave a satisfied sigh. The rational part of him could tell he was being slightly teenager-crush-silly. It was a small part. Most of him was grinning and doing a little dance in his head.