A/N: Welcome to my new FanFic! Thought I'd try a Teen Wolf one this time, and I just had to go with my two favourite characters for the first chapter. I hope you enjoy reading it, and let me know what you think of it, and where you'd like to see the story go in the reviews section. Stay Classy, Icepoppy

Stiles had never really put much thought into driving. It always just came naturally to him, and he couldn't understand why people found it so difficult. His Jeep had a gearstick, whereas most of his friends drove automatics. Stiles had been delighted when Lydia had asked him to teach her how to drive stick, but now he was deeply regretting accepting. "Lydi- Lyds, would you just- it's not that hard- just- just put your foot on the clutch!" He instantly regretted raising his voice, and winced when she turned her stony gaze on him.

"I am trying, Stiles. It's just taking some getting used to." She spoke curtly, turning her head sharply forwards once she was finished speaking. The view out of the windscreen was mundane. They had stopped in a parking lot so that they could practice, and all she could see was the concrete ground leading towards an old chain fence and empty ground beyond that. Gritting her teeth she moved her hand back to the gearstick. "I'm trying reverse again." And with that she shoved the car into gear, and took her foot off of the clutch. The Jeep lurched forwards before stalling with a small puff of smoke from the rear.

"No, no, no, no. Not my Jeep." Stiles smacked the dashboard in frustration, before thumping his head back against the seat. He sighed loudly before rubbing his eyes and turning to look at Lydia. Shock danced across his features when he saw that she was nearly crying. Biting her lip and trying to hold back tears, she looked away. "Lydia, I'm sorry. Don't cry. Please?"

She sniffed loudly, laughing bitterly, "I thought you said I looked beautiful when I cry?"

"Wait you remember that?"

"Of course I do, I'm not an idiot Stiles. Except when it comes to gear sticks apparently." She nudged the stick half heartedly, resting her hand on the shiny surface.

"You do look beautiful when you cry. I just don't want to be the reason that your sad."

"I broke your Jeep Stiles! And now your annoyed with me, and I just hate the fact that I can't figure this out!"

Stiles retreated slightly at the outburst, sliding backwards in his seat. Gulping, he attempted to calm her down. "Look, Lydia, I'm sure the Jeep isn't broken, you probably just cleaned out the engine. And you're not doing that badly. All you did wrong was you put the car in 5th rather than reverse. It's an easy mistake, they're right next to each other. Look." Holding his breath he put his hand on top of hers and guided the stick into reverse instead of 5th. He spared a glance up at her to see her reaction, but she was just staring at their hands.

"Oh." It was a quite remark, almost to herself as much as him.

He smiled at her, speaking perkily, "See? Told you it was simple!" He squeezed her hand before letting go and looking out the window. He didn't notice that she was still staring at the gear stick.

Her next sentence was barely audible, but when he heard it, Stile's heart leaped in his chest. "Stiles," she didn't even look at him, just kept staring at her hand, "Stiles, hold my hand again."

"Uh, why?"

"Just do it!" She snapped at him and he quickly complied. "Can you hear that?" Her eyes flicked up to look at him and she saw the panic in her expression.

"What? No. Lydia is this some weird Banshee thing?"

She gulped, looking at him shakily, "You're telling me you can't hear your dad talking right now?"

His heart lurched, but this time in a far more unpleasant manner. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. His voice sounded croaky and strained as he spoke, "Lydia. Why can you hear my dad? I thought you only hear voices when someone's- when- when someone's-." Realisation struck him with a sickening blow, and he felt the world spinning around him. Trying desperately to gather his thoughts he looked at her through dizzy eyes. "Where is he Lydia? We can still get to him in time."

"I don't know. I can't hear." She was still shaking and her voice was thin and wavering.

"Come on Lydia, try!"

"I AM trying Stiles! This isn't as easy as it looks alright!"

He blinked, biting his tongue before he could lash out in his frustration. He would only regret it later. Looking around desperately, he tried to think of how to help her. An idea stuck him, but he wasn't sure how she would react. Gently he took her other hand, so that he was holding one in each of his, and spoke to her as calmly as he could. "Does this make it any clearer?"

She screwed up her face, closing her eyes in concentration, before gasping and looking at him, "Yes. I don't know why but it does."

"Okay... well can you hear them properly now?"

She looked as though she were deep in thought, but then she growled in frustration. "No! It's like I'm listening through a closed door or something. I just can't make it out"

"Right, so if contact helps, maybe we should hug?"

She snapped up to look at him, speaking sharply, "What?"

Backpedalling, Stiles tried to explain, "You said things got louder when I held both of your hands, so maybe it would be even clearer if we were, y'know-" he gestured awkwardly with his hand, whipping his head back and forth, "-hugging. Platonically, of course."

"Oh, right." She didn't give him any warning; she simply grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him in for a tight hug. It wasn't exactly a pleasant experience for Stiles; the hand break was digging into his ribs uncomfortably. However, this was more important. For a moment, he sat in silence, listening to her breathing, and feeling the beat of her heart against his chest. After what seemed like an age, but also not nearly long enough, she pulled back. The motion was slow and when her face came into view, she looked terrified.

"Lydia, what is it? Where's my dad?" Stiles was panicking, struggling to stop a gasping sob from escaping his chest.

"I don't know where he is, but it isn't good. Someone, someone- he's been shot Stiles. He isn't dead. But he's in trouble, but it's like they won't let me see where he is."