Author's Note: Here is the final chapter as so many people requested it. Let's pretend that no one died though, okay? Slight AU, but not by much. Thanks for the support. Please enjoy!

"If you smile through your fears and sorrow

Smile and maybe tomorrow

You'll see the sun come shining through for you."

—Michael Bublé, "Smile"

Someone was holding her.

The door was open; light was streaming through, illuminating the dark warehouse. It burned her eyes and she flinched. She could feel something wet—blood?—roll down her neck and onto her arms. She wanted to turn her head to get a better look at the person who held her securely, but it was like she was paralyzed. Her tongue was too heavy to life in order for her to speak. She felt like she was adrift at sea, at the mercy of the waves. She could hear the faint rumble of her savoir speaking as her ear was pressed against his chest. The nogitsune was gone, thank God, but she wondered if it would come back to her. With a shudder, she tried to push that thought out of her mind.

"Lydia?" Stiles—her Stiles, with the most expressive pair of eyes she had ever seen—glanced down at her, his arms holding her securely within his grasp. His expression shifted into one of relief and Lydia felt a smile grace her lips. "Lydia, fuck, you scared me, we thought—" His voice suddenly disappeared though his mouth kept moving. It was like someone had muted the TV. He must've sensed her distress because he was speaking faster, or was that just her imagination? What was she doing here? Why was she so cold? Alison and Scott were in front of her now, both exchanging concerned glances. Alison pressed a cloth against her neck and she winced in pain.

"Lydia, please, just hold on—" Stiles' voice, frantic above her, but she didn't understand why he was worried. She felt fine, numb actually. She just wished she wasn't so cold.

"Scott, she's going into shock—" Funny, she had read about shock once, but she never imagined it could feel like this. She felt the darkness calling her and she was powerless to fight it. Her vision slowly faded to black, like the end of a movie. Why was she here again?

"Lydia, please—!"

But she was already gone.

"Hey there." Her eyes blinked a few times as she tried to make out the rumpled figure sitting by her bedside. The smell of antiseptic greeted her nose and she immediately reached for the cord she could feel on her neck, only for a strong hand to stop her. "Don't mess with that. Doctor said you needed more oxygen."

"Stiles." Her voice came out rough, like she had been screaming for hours. Still, the boy beside her shot her a relieved grin and though she could see the dark bags under his eyes, she was glad he had stayed by her side. "Nogitsune?"

"Scott and Kira are on it," He replied quickly, running a hand through his hair. "They're tracking him down." She ran a hand through her hair and flinched as she brushed passed a huge bandage on her neck. Confused, she tilted her head to the side. "Ah, that."

"He . . ." Flashes of what seemed like another life tore through her brain. A knife pressed against her neck. An order to scream. "He cut me."

"Yeah," Stiles breathed, voice caught between fury and grief. "You, uh, went into shock. You lost a lot of blood." The silent too much went unspoken. She had almost died, she could tell that from the way Stiles was looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. "Lydia, I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" She echoed, perplexed.

"If it weren't for me, the nogitsune never would've gone after you—" Ah, so he wanted to go into a shame spiral. Well, Lydia Martin did not almost die just to wake up and hear this. She knew better and honestly, something like this was inevitable. She was a banshee, best friends with a werewolf hunter and unofficially a member of a wolf pack. Truth was, something like this was bound to happen to her. Sure, she had almost died—yes, she was also aware she was taking that pretty well—but she wasn't going to let Stiles feel bad for it. Truth was, she was glad he was back.

"Stiles," Her soft tone made him meet her gaze. She reached over and held his calloused hand within her own. "This is not your fault." He opened his mouth to protest, but her gaze hardened and he shut his mouth. "I'm okay."

"You're alive." He breathed.

"Yes, I am." They shared a grin. To his surprise, she didn't let go of his hand and his grip on it tightened ever so slightly. "And you know what?"

"What?"

"When this whole nogitsune thing is over," She paused, deliberately stringing him alone. "You're taking me out."

"I-I am?" He stuttered, completely taken aback. She smirked, loving how easily flustered he could become. It was one her favorite things about him. She reclined back on the hospital bed, still holding his hand.

"Yes, you are."

"On a date?" He clarified.

"Yes."

"You and me?"

"Who else, Stiles?"

"On a date, you and me?"

"Stiles," She beamed at him. "Yes, a date."

"Well, okay." A grin lit up his face and for the first time since this ordeal began, Lydia knew that they would be okay. This too would pass. Life would return back to normal and then they could be teenagers once more.

"Stiles?"

"Hmmm?"

"Thanks for rescuing me." He blushed, somewhat embarrassed.

"Anytime, Lydia."

Author's Note: I wanted this chapter to be a bit fluffy. I hope you enjoyed it. Please review if you have a second. Thanks!