Stay With Me

Chapter Twenty-Two: Heroes and Halfway-Happy Endings

"How much do you know about this stuff?" asked Stiles, glancing at Lydia.

"Pieces," Lydia sighed. "Half of it is like a dream."

"Yeah, well, the other half is like a friggin' nightmare," Stiles told her, taking his frustration out on her.

"I don't care," Lydia insisted. "I can help him. You said I could be a better person? Well, this is me trying, so why won't you let me?"

"Because I don't want you to die!" shouted Stiles. "I don't want anyone to die, and Gerard has a freaking kanima who will kill whoever he wants it to, whenever he wants it to! I mean, look at my face, huh? You actually think this was meant to hurt me?"

Lydia flinched away from him, and Stiles sighed. "I'm - I'm so sorry, Lydia."

"It's okay," Lydia reassured him. "I'll find him myself." She walked determinedly out of Stiles' room.

"Hey, Lydia, wait!" Stiles called after her.

A few minutes after she left, Sheriff Stilinski came up.

"She left, huh?" he asked. Stiles nodded from his desk. "So, was there, uh, anything there?"

Stiles almost laughed, thinking of Derek. "No," he told his father. "No, she's in love with someone else. And, um, Dad? I've been meaning to tell you...so am I."

The sheriff's eyes widened. "Oh, crap. I'm sorry." He sat down next to his son. "Listen, I know that getting beaten up, and with what happened to Jackson, has got you pretty shaken, but be happy about one thing."

Stiles looked over to his father, eyebrows raised.

"The game," Sheriff Stilinski reminded him. "You were amazing."

"Thanks, Dad, but if I was really amazing," sighed Stiles, "he would've come to watch."

The sheriff's mouth opened, and then closed, and then he decided not to quiz Stiles right now. "No, I mean it," he insisted. "It was pretty much over, and then you got the ball. You scored, and the tide just turned. And then you scored again, and again. You weren't just the MVP of the game. You were a hero."

Stiles shook his head. "No, I'm not a hero, Dad."

Sheriff Stilinski smiled at his son. "You were last night." He got up and left, and Stiles sighed, thinking of everyone else who was trying to help Jackson, and here he was, sulking in his room. "I'm not a hero," he whispered.

<<<<<<>>>>>>

Argent's car stopped at an abandoned warehouse. Isaac looked in the rearview mirror. "I think he stopped moving," he told Scott and Argent.

"Where's Derek?" demanded Argent, and as if on cue, Derek came running up on all fours, red eyes blazing. He looked questioningly towards Argent.

"I'm here for Jackson," Argent answered his unspoken question. "Not you."

"Somehow I don't find that very comforting," retorted Derek. "Get him inside," he instructed the boys, who obeyed.

"Where are they?" asked Scott.

"Who?" Derek asked him.

"Peter and Lydia!" Scott reminded him. Derek didn't answer, and began unzipping Jackson's body bag. "Well, hold on a second. You said you knew how to save him!"

"We're past that," Derek told them both.

"What - what about - " Scott stammered.

"Think about it, Scott!" shouted Derek. "Gerard controls him now. He's turned Jackson into his own personal guard dog, and he's set all of this in motion so that Jackson could get even bigger, and more powerful."