Chapter One- I'm Coming Home

There was something familiar about the air surrounding him, the weight pressing against his chest keeping him from full breaths. Tears sung at the corners of his eyes, as he looked for her. But from the ground he couldn't spot the tell-tale sign of strawberry blonde locks. But he knew she had to be close.

Stiles reached an arm out to his side grasping for anything. Once he found a hand he held on tight. It had to be Lydia, it just had to be.

"Lydia," He shook her wrist lightly trying to get a response. "Lydia you have to wake up, you have to get help. I don't think I can move."

He was just about to give up hope of waking her when she sprang to life, nails digging deep into his palm.

Even though the room was void of light, when her eyes snapped open he could see every bit of her green orbs.

"It's coming," she hissed, with a desperate shake to her voice.

"What's coming? What is it?"

Her lips trembled as she fought back her own tears. "We've gone too far. Shouldn't have left."

He pulled her hand closer to him, trying to soothe her. "Lydia I don't understand. Get Scott, he can help us."

"There's no time. It's already here," as the last word left her lips another sound replaced it. A blood draining wail that Stiles hadn't heard in years. He tried to cover his ears but to no avail. The cry pieced his heart, flooding it with darkness.

Stiles nearly jumped from his seat, dropping the book that was propped in front of him. It took him a minute to realize he wasn't in fact in any danger what so ever. He was however currently seated in his mythology professor's office, with said professor giving him a quizzical look.

"Are you alright?" Professor Douglas questioned. It still felt like ice chunks were floating in his veins, but Stiles did his best to smirk.

"Yea, just a weird dream I guess. Sorry about dozing off. I can finish the grading if you want." Because the last thing Stiles needed was to lose his TA spot, because of slacking off.

"Please you've done enough. Honestly I don't know how I would have gotten through an entire year of the same drab papers if it wasn't for you," Douglas replied with a smirk. "You are one of the best TA's I've ever had. It makes me a little sad the semesters over."

Stiles grinned, not trusting his reply. Truth was he wanted the semester to continue. He hadn't been home in nearly two years. And even when he had, he made the trip very short, not trusting himself to stay longer than a few days.

The place held too much for him to enjoy it any longer. Too much pain, too much death, too much darkness. And Stiles did his best to leave it behind him every day. He tried to focus on the present, and less on the past.

As Stiles packed his things he gave one last look at his aging professor. "Thanks for the opportunity this year, sir. It meant a lot to work with you."

"You're a brilliant mind Stiles," Douglas pushed his wire rim glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Have a good holiday."

"You too sir," Stiles waved as he walked out of the office.

Once he was on his way to his he had time to think. Anyone else would have shrugged the dream off as stress and lack of sleep, but not him. There was a time in his life when his waking hours were more like that dream than anything else. He knew it meant something, but there wasn't enough to go on yet.

He knew one thing for sure. He really needed to talk to Lydia.

It took more time than she had been willing to spend, but the entire apartment was finally packed. Yes she knew she'd be back in the fall, but Lydia couldn't stand leaving everything out to collect dust. Also, she knew that nothing in life was certain.

She shook her head, pushing those thoughts away. It had been years since she let herself be overcome with visions of that night. Years, since she let herself feel that vulnerable again. It helped being away at school.

Berkley was close enough to home that she could trick herself into thinking she'd visit all the time, but far enough to use any reason not to come back.

But the semester was over, and she'd run out of excuses not to go back. A scoff escaped her lips as she sat on a box of books. Lydia Martin scared. It wasn't something she'd ever grow accustomed to nor would she want too. But none the less, the thought of going back to Beacon Hills scared her to death.

The sound of keys was faint outside the door. She looked up with a smile, just in time to see Stiles walk in setting his bag down.

"Hey beautiful," Stiles greeted placing a kiss on her lips. "I see you got a lot done today."

"I had no choice," she let a sly smile cross her lips. "Seeing as my boyfriend ditched me."

He dropped to a box next to hers. "I'm sorry. But I'm here now, so anything left for me to do?"

She wrapped a hand around his neck pulling him closer. "I can think of a few things."

She pressed her lips to his, grinning wickedly. Stiles responded in kind deepening their kiss. And all the dread that had flooded her mind earlier was washed out. It sounded cheesy, but she knew as long as she had Stiles she'd always feel safe.

"What's wrong?" she questioned, as Stiles pulled back. Lydia had known him long enough to be able to read his face like a well-worn novel. "And don't say 'nothing'."

He looked down, and Lydia could tell he was hesitating. "I just… Are we making the right decision? Going home?"

"We have to go home sometime," Lydia ran a hand through his hair. "Though you've done a good job at avoiding for a while."

"You and my dad are good at that whole guilt trip thing," Stiles snarked. "I know it's time to go back. I miss everyone. But I can't help feeling like stepping into that town again, it's just gonna bring everything crashing down."

"Did anything particular bring on this crushing fear?"

She could see it in the way his eyes darted around, like he feared something could be near. But he soon spoke. "I had a dream."

"We've all had bad dreams Stiles it doesn't mean-"

"This was different," he stated finally meeting her gaze. "It felt like a warning. Going back there, after everything that happened, isn't it just asking for disaster?"

"I thought I was supposed to be the one with creepy omens?" she joked trying to smile. "I can't say that I'm not worried myself. It'd be stupid to walk in there without being cautious, but it is home. You know, my family's there, your family. Our friends."

"But what if going back means being right back in the thick of things? Because if going there means something happens to you, I won't be able to stand it."

"Stiles," she soothed, moving to sit on his lap. "Look at my eyes. Nothing's going to happen. We need to stop being dictated by the past, and move on. So how about you meet me in the bedroom, for one last night together before were home."

He smiled as she grabbed his hand pulling him to his feet. "I love you," he whispered, as he kissed her head.

He walked in front of her making his way towards the bedroom. Lydia was about to follow when something caught her attention just at the edge of her vision. There was a piece of paper peeking out of the side of Stiles' bag. Normally she'd shrug it off, but something was drawing her closer, and she couldn't seem to turn away from it.

She bent down, sliding the paper out to view. It wasn't Stiles' handwriting that was evident by the smooth lines. But that didn't matter, because the words sat there glaring up at her in terrifying caution. Erit domus tua defecimus.

"Lydia you coming?" Stiles called from the bedroom and she nearly tore the paper in half.

"In a sec," she turned back to the sheet, but nothing was there. She kept flipping it over and over, but it was as if the words had never been there. Lydia knew better through, she'd seen it. And sure she hadn't used Latin in a few years, but she could still read it clear as day. And suddenly Stiles' worries didn't seem so misplaced.

Because apparently home was going to be their undoing.

Allison sat in the front seat of her father's SUV, and watched as rain splattered against the window. The scene was too familiar for her mind to focus on, but it was better than the pain that shot through her abdomen when she moved too much.

"You okay?" Chris asked side glancing her, but trying not to hover. Allison gave him a weak smile in return.

It's not how she envisioned returning to Beacon Hills. War wound to her stomach that the army doctors say may never properly heal. She supposed she should take pride in the honorable discharge, and be grateful she at least got to come home. But of course a part of her would rather be on a battle field somewhere than crossing the county line.

She'd left shortly after the incident senior year. No one tried to stop her, not that she gave them much of a chance. She had barely spoken to anyone in the days leading up to graduation. And once her diploma was in hand, she made a break for it, without more than a quick goodbye to Isaac.

He was the only one she could even face after everything that happened. And there was still a heavy feeling that crept into her mind when she thought of their last moments together. But that hadn't been enough for her to keep in touch. Not after what they did, or more like what they didn't do.

She focused on the passing trees, pushing away that night. It was still too hard to think about what they lost then. But it was interesting how much those events had shaped who they became after. If it wasn't for that night Allison never would have joined the army, she knew it was the catalyst that brought the idea fire. And she couldn't be sure, but she suspected it was also the reason Stiles worked his ass off to go to Berkley with Lydia.

Allison had to admit that if any good could come out of things, at least it was that. She wouldn't have felt right leaving her best friend if she wasn't sure someone would be there for Lydia, and there was no one better to look out for her firecracker best friend than Stiles.

But something itched at the back of her mind, begging for attention. It came from the dream she had. The one where Lydia's banshee cry echoed off her skull distracting her enough to get hurt. She didn't know what was coming, but whatever it was had Lydia terrified. And even in a nightmare Allison wasn't willing to ignore her friend, the last time she did that, they lost Danny.

The pain seared behind his eyes as he entered the hospital, but regardless of the headache he came to work anyway. It wasn't something he was proud of, but Scott knew he used this place to alleviate his own guilt. And tonight wouldn't be much different.

It's the pattern he left himself fall into, ever since they lost Danny and the twins, with his pathological need to save everyone. He was just glad he finally had an internship at Beacon Hills Memorial, because loitering in the emergency room was starting to look a little sketchy. He could really help people now and make amends for not saving three of his own. He just wished he could push the dark thoughts away from his head today.

As he walked up to the nurse's station he spotted his mother finishing up a chart. Melissa looked up at him with a smile. "Hey sweetie."

"I thought we had a talk about calling me that at work," Scott hushed her with a playful smile. "I mean how is anyone going to take me seriously if my mom calls me pet names?"

"Well it beats what Tori likes to call you," she retorted with a smirk.

Scott smiled at the mention of his little sister. He couldn't deny the fact that ever since his mom and the Sheriff got married, that at least their home life had finally reached a level of normalcy. Resulting in Scott and Stiles being brothers and having two younger sisters now, Tori who had just turned four and Britt. He figured that after Britt was born nine months ago, Stiles would have visited more, but so far his best friend had made many excuses not to.

"Hey," Scott looked down trying not to lose his nerve. "Have you heard if Stiles will be back this summer?"

"Unless something changed between when he talked John yesterday, then I believe so," she replied as she tapped her pen under his chin. "You know crazy thought, but you could pick up that cell phone of yours and give him a call every now and again. Just to check in and checkup."

"You've been a Stilinski too long Mom, the sarcasm is starting to affect your brain."

He figured she'd slap his arm for that one, but Melissa began to focus on something over his shoulder. He didn't need to turn around to sense Isaac hovering near the doors, the unknown scent of a younger male hung close to him.

Scott whipped around catching the eye of his beta, who was currently supporting the weight of a kid no more than sixteen. The was blood, it's presence was thick and bitter, and before he knew it Scott was pushing himself forward to examine the boy.

Melissa followed ushering the three boys into a free curtained off bed. She didn't stop to ask any questions as she made work of getting the boy seated and his shirt cut away.

Scott saw the bruises. He'd of had to have been blind not to. They littered the boy's body, starting at his collar bone as they snaked their way down to his hip.

"Again?" Melissa finally spoke meeting the kid's eyes. He looked down, shame crossing his face.

Isaac shook his head and Scott could feel the buzzing anger just under the surface. "Jess this wasn't your fault. You understand me?"

Jess didn't reply as he kept his eyes locked on the floor.

"I'm going to have to call John," Melissa spoke, pulling Scott from his focus on Jess. "This is the third time this year, Isaac."

"I know," Isaac's voice sounded defeated. "I keep telling them not to let Kyle reapply for custody again. But apparently the kid's father is what's best."

He'd never heard the beta sound so bitter, not even about his own abusive father.

"It was my fault," the boy's voice was barely audible.

"Hey," Melissa cut him off lifting his chin with a gloved finger. "No more talk like that. No one deserves this you hear me?"

He nodded looking down again. Melissa looked between Scott and Isaac motioning them to wait outside.

Scott watched Isaac hesitate, but he clearly trusted Melissa enough and finally stepped out of the curtained area. Scott followed eyeing Isaac carefully. They didn't talk much, not like they used to, but he was sure they could still be considered friends. And he wasn't about to let a friend of his fly off the handles.

"I'm fine," Isaac stated. Scott figured the beta could sense his gaze.

"What about the kid?"

Isaac scoffed running a hand through his mess of curls. "I feel like I failed him. I mean I'm his social worker. I was supposed to protect him from this, but the system keeps letting that bastard take him back. If it happens again, I'm not sure Jess will make it all the way here."

"Isaac-"

"Don't, okay. Your mom gives me the same speech every time we go through this. How I can't save everyone or I can't change my past through fixing these kids."

Scott took the spot next to Isaac, pushing his weight against the wall. "She's pretty smart. The only thing I'd add is, no matter what you think. It's not your fault either."

"You're kidding right?" he scoffed again. "You of all people are going to give me that speech?"

"I'm just trying to help," Scott replied, trying to keep his voice low. "You look two seconds away from committing murder."

"I'm here to help Jess. He's father's an ass, yeah. But I wouldn't risk my job or my life, by ending his," he moved away from the wall but turned quick, meeting the alphas eyes. "I'm making a difference for Jess, and all the other kids I see every day. Because I know what it's like to come from a shit situation, and think you deserve it."

"I get that."

"Do you? Because for the last seven or so years it seems like every decision any of us has made, has been tainted by that night."

Scott wanted to make Isaac stop before he went too far in dredging up the past, but he didn't want to make a scene.

"I get we lost friends," Isaac began not letting Scott drop his gaze. "I may not have been best buds with any of them, but they were still pack. And it still hurts like hell. But you guys need to get over it. Stop letting that night flood into everything else."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"What happened that night was a group effort," Isaac continued. "It wasn't anyone's fault, except the one person none of you seem to blame. So stop attacking yourself for not saving them. And stop pouring your issues on me."

Before Scott could argue, Isaac stalked off. He knew his beta was right. He'd done a great deal of projecting on to all of them, Stiles mostly. And there was nothing he wished he could do more than take it back, but after so long that didn't seem possible.

A flash of red caught his eye and he turned towards it, as the curtain of hair skidded around the corner. Instinct surged him forward, following the girl. He didn't realize how far they went until he pushed the roof door open, as she stood near the edge.

Her head was slung low, and Scott could sense sadness clinging to her. It pulled feelings from the past to the front of his mind.

As she turned to look at him, Scott wasn't sure what he expected. When he met her eyes though, he couldn't help taking a step back. It'd been a few years since he last saw Lydia, but she hadn't changed much.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned, the desire to keep a distance overwhelmed him, even if he couldn't explain it.

"Things are about change," she spoke a vibrating echo to her voice. "And you out of all of them need to be ready."

"I don't understand."

"It's all connected. And it's all about to crash down, unless you step up and be the alpha you're meant to be," Lydia turned from him looking out across the town.

"I'm trying," Scott replied. "I'm doing what I can."

"It's not enough. And because of that things are going to happen. Things you can't stop."

"Lydia what are talking about?" Scott pushed himself closer, despite the desire to run.

She pushed herself up to the ledge and dangled her feet off the edge. "He's coming for all of you."

She jumped faster than Scott could move, but when he reached the spot he saw no sign of her anywhere, faded like vapor in the air.

He didn't know what was going on or why, but for some reason Lydia was reaching out to him, and he intended to figure out why.