They always forgot how vulnerable the boy could be, how he wasn't like the rest of them with healing powers and built in armor. He joined them with a baseball bat as his weapon; no fangs, no claws, no super strength. Just a metal bat. The war was ending, a pack of wolves from a city near Beacon Hills attempting to kill Scott's own pack. They fought them off, all of them. Scott, Malia, Liam, hell even Lydia insisted she help with her newfound banshee skills. And Stiles. The human.
It was hard at first to try and fight and take care of the boy simultaneously. He was someone they didn't want to have to worry about. So they didn't. They let him fend for himself when he argued he could. It ended badly, of course but he didn't show it. After their little war, Stiles offered anyone who needed it ride home. Malia said she felt like walking and Liam was going home with Scott. He looked at the strawberry blonde, hopeful. "My car is just down the road." He smiled and told her good night as they went their separate ways. She turned around upon hearing him wince and noticed the blood his flannel had hidden earlier, the way he held his hand shaking over the spot. Watching in secret, Lydia looked on as he stumbled behind the wheel of the jeep, closing his eyes for a moment before starting the vehicle and taking off.
She followed him home, as creepy as that may sound, but he never noticed until she pulled into his driveway behind him.
"Need a hand?" Lydia was right at the drivers side as soon as he went to get out. Chuckling, Stiles played it cool.
"I'm fine, what're you talking about?"
And then he received the look, the famous Lydia Martin look that told him he should know better than to lie to the girl. Defeated, he sighed and winced when he slumped. "Help me out of the damn jeep." He grumbled. Wrapping his arm across her shoulders, Lydia lead him to the front door and waited patiently as he unlocked it before assisting him inside. There she forced him to lay on the couch as much as he insisted on getting the first aid himself, she demanded directions as to where it was.
"It was the, uh, one with the long nails." He cleared his throat and tried not to breath as Lydia sat next to his legs on the couch and slowly peeled up the end of his shirt. A curse left her lips. It was pretty bad, she was surprised he'd made it this far without bleeding more than he was. "I think some of her claws broke off, um–"
"In you?" Lydia finished. He nodded, gulping at the thought. There were four long claw marks down his side, starting an inch or two above his belly button and ending right at the start of his jeans. Upon looking a little closer, Lydia was almost positive he was right about her claws breaking off in his side.
She cleared her throat and nervously asked if he could take off his flannel and shirt. He stuttered out a yes and groaned when he sat up, blood gushing from his side and Lydia quickly moved to put a towel under him as he complained about not getting it on the couch.
"Maybe we should call–"
"No, Lydia please," he begged, already knowing what she was going to say. "If you call Melissa she'll tell Scott and that's the last thing I want right now."
She sighed and agreed hesitantly before grabbing a pair of tweezers out of the first aid kit. He laid back flat again, holding his breath when he felt her tug the corner of his jeans down slightly further to make sure all of the wound was exposed.
"It's going to hurt." She warned.
"If it didn't I'd be a little concerned." He tried to joke but she didn't laugh so he assumed she was concentrating. Then he felt it, the sharp pain from her pulling something out of his side and it felt like a burning hell. He bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes tight and desperately tried not to squirm.
"Done." She mumbled and he let out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding, opening his eyes to see her holding the longest piece of a nail he'd ever seen between the tweezers. "How was that?" She asked.
"In a word: painful." He took a deep breath and attempted to relax as she began again.
"This whole thing was stupid." She mumbled to herself. "We shouldn't have let you come, we knew this pack would be more violent than usual." He grabbed hold of the arm of the couch above him as she began to pull out another sliver. "I told Scott, I said 'don't let Stiles fight, make him be the lookout'."
"You said what?" Stiles proclaimed, lifting his head to glance at her.
"You get hurt, they don't understand that." She defended.
"OW, SHIT!" He yelled and threw his head back, sucking air in through his teeth. But she didn't stop picking at his wounds. "Lyds, can you stop!" He exclaimed and pushed away her hands with more force than he had meant to, sitting up.
"I get it, okay? I'm weak. I'm stupid for trying to keep up with you guys but I can't help it. I get hurt, I know, but I need to try." He snapped. She looked back at him surprised, not having seen him this mad in a while. Expression softening, he apologized for yelling and laid back down, hoping she would forget what just happened as easily as he had.
"You aren't supernatural and you don't have to try to be." She gave him an understanding smile. All she got in return was a look of shame, his eyes avoiding her own. Then she realized, he wasn't constantly trying to be supernatural to help them. He was doing it to try and be like them. "Stiles. . . You really don't think we would like you better if you weren't human, do you?"
He bit his lip. "Sometimes I just think it'd be easier, ya know."
Wilting a little, Lydia began to clean some of the blood away.
"It's not all fun and games."
"I know." He assured her he knew the downfalls. He remembered chaining Scott up on full moons, he remembered helping Lydia understand she was the only one who heard voices, he remembered teaching Liam how to control his anger. He knew the downfalls. But the benefits. Scott got the girl, Lydia solved everything, Liam was their best fighter.
"I used to think you understood until I realized you didn't know about the whole supernatural thing until Jackson, but even then you were already getting your banshee instincts. Me? I've always been human. I mean sure I got possessed by a freaking demon but that wasn't even me, just my body. And even then I was still human." He hadn't even noticed she'd started to pick his scars again until she pulled a long sliver of nail from his abdomen. He groaned but she told him to keep talking, distract himself. "You can't sit here and tell me that you've never excluded me because of who I am. I don't have claws, I can't sense death and I most definitely cannot heal." She laughed at the last one but it quickly faded as she processed his words. There had been plenty of instances where Scott chose not to tell his best friend because it would be too dangerous for him. They would all show up to school the next day exhausted from battles with gashes that had barely gone away and pretend everything was normal, talk to Stiles as though they hadn't looked death in the face the night before.
"I'm right, aren't I?" He understood her silence and for a moment she thought he could read her mind. Sighing, Stiles relaxed and allowed the girl to poke and prod at him like some game of Operation.
"Not all the time." Lydia said.
"But too many to count, I'm sure." He said this mostly to himself, feeling a little pathetic in the moment. "And it's always going to be that way." She wasn't sure what to tell him now but luckily he kept on talking. "You know Peter offered me the bite once."
"What?" She stopped her task once again and Stiles sat up on his elbows to look at her better.
"It was a long time ago. But do you know how many times I regret not taking it? Do you know how many times I sit at home, knowing you're all out doing something, thinking 'damn if only I'd accepted his offer'?"
She felt the goosebumps roll down her body. "Too many to count, I'm sure." She mimicked his words from earlier. Knowing he'd won the argument, Stiles lay down for the final time.
"Let's just stop for tonight, I'll call Melissa in the morning. Scott's gonna find out eventually anyway. He'll smell the blood." It's as though the last part was said to be ironic.
Lydia pursed her lips and began to put away everything in the first aid. She felt defeated. There was nothing she could tell him that would make up for the fact he was who he was. Apologizing felt dumb, wrong, but continuing the argument was useless. words suddenly found her.
"I turned around and Malia had an extra fang the other day. An extra fang." She laughed and he watched her, curious to see where this was going. "But you? I walked into class today and you were still you. I'll walk into class in a month and you'll still smile at me and won't talk about the fact that probably had a psychic breakdown the day before. You treat me like I'm human. That's the best thing I could ask for."
She was grinning, talking in disbelief. "When I need to feel normal, I come to you. Ironically enough you understand more than any of them. You don't look at me like I'm a freak after I've had a banshee moment. You don't act like I'm a screaming toddler and you don't know what to do. You calm me down, you help the voices go away. Sure you don't have super strength but if you weren't human I know for sure if lose my mind. You're the only constant I have in this crazy." They locked eyes. "So thank you. And please, dear God please stay human. I need that from you."
She drove him to the hospital in the morning and talked to him as a distraction while Melissa removed what was left of the claws. Just before Scott came to scold his best friend, Lydia confronted him. The alpha furrowed his brows and held in a sigh but tried to understand and waited patiently by the jeep as she went back inside to retrieve the boy.
"Hey man, you good?" Scott asked. Stiles nodded, knowing Lydia had probably told him not to say anything. But for once, he was glad she had.
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Authors note:
HI SORRY IF THIS HAS MISTAKES IN IT BUT I DIDNT LOOK OVER IT BEFORE I PUBLISHED IT CAUSE IM TOO LAZY AND I JUST WANTED TO GET IT UP TONIGHT OKAY BYE.
Comment, read, enjoy!
-Chloe