"Nothing Left to Say"

Lucawindmover

Chapter Four

"These Endeavors"

Stiles rubbed the edge of his blanket between anxious fingers. He was pissed and tired of waiting.

After pressing him back into his bed with a promise to return, Allison had darted out of his room with her phone, intent on calling everyone, if her excited tone in the hallway was any indication.

Who was she calling? It was just one in a long list of questions she had frankly refused to answer since he'd hung up the phone with Scott.

While waiting for someone to come back and tell him what the hell had happened on the night of the eclipse, Stiles tried piecing together the few shreds of information he had managed to glean thus far and became more and more anxious for his troubles. If Scott lived with his father now, it meant something had happened to Melissa.

On the night of the eclipse, Melissa had been trapped in a collapsing root cellar, waiting to be found or sacrificed. If she had died, it meant the parents hadn't been found. And if the parents hadn't been found…they must have been sacrificed.

Stiles frantically called for Allison to come back. He needed to know if his father was alive or dead. There was no response so Stiles decided to take matters into his own hands. He slung his legs over the side of the bed and knew, from the moment his feet hit the floor, he'd never make it to the door. It didn't matter though. He had to try.

The lack of control in his legs reminded him of what it felt like to be paralyzed with kanima venom because even though he told his legs to move, they didn't. He crumpled into a heap with a loud thud, cracking his chin on the hardwood floor.

Plan A hadn't panned out but luckily, Plan B worked perfectly.

At the sound of him hitting the floor, Allison burst back into the room, phone forgotten for the moment. "Stiles, what are you doing?" she asked, dropping to her knees to help him back up. "Two years in a coma wasn't enough for you? You've got to try and break your neck an hour after you wake up?"

Stiles tried to shrug her off but it was beyond apparent he couldn't get back to his feet without her help. "You know, I wouldn't have had to if you'd just answer my damn questions. And don't put me back in bed."

Allison froze with Stiles' arm around her shoulders, holding up most of his weight. "Well, where else do you want to go?"

Stiles gestured with his sore chin. "Computer chair."

The two of them shuffled across the room to his desk and Stiles managed to maneuver himself into the chair. He might not be able to walk yet but at least now he was mobile. His chair had wheels.

Before Allison could slip out and avoid him again, Stiles grabbed ahold of her wrist, a motion very reminiscent of the night of the eclipse. "Just wait a minute, okay?" he implored. "Look, I get that there's some stuff you don't want to talk about but can you at least just tell me…you know, if my dad…" He had to clear his throat as his voice threatened to crack. "Because if Scott's with his dad then something happened to Melissa and that would mean—"

"Stiles," Allison interrupted, squatting down so she was eye-level with him. "Your dad's okay. He made it out of the cellar. That's who I was calling in the hallway. Deaton and your dad. They're both on their way."

The wave of relief Stiles felt at the news his father was safe was immediately followed by the crushing realization that Allison hadn't corrected him about Melissa. It must have shown on his face because Allison dropped her eyes to their hands. He hadn't even noticed she had broken his grip on her wrist and had his hand clasped between her two.

She cleared her throat and Stiles recognized her Hunter voice, the one she used when she needed to be brave, clear, concise, and devoid of emotion.

She couldn't quite seem to achieve the lack of emotion she was aiming for though.

"On the night of the eclipse, me and Isaac went out to find the parents. We did find them but Scott couldn't stop Jennifer so…" Allison had to stop and take a deep breath before she could continue. "Your dad and I were the only ones who made it out."

For a moment, Stiles couldn't breathe. He had never wanted to be wrong so badly before but the clues about Melissa had been too obvious for him to ignore. Now armed with the knowledge of Isaac and Mr. Argent's fates, Stiles could see all the little pieces he should have put together before. It suddenly made sense to him why Allison was at his house in her pajamas in the middle of the night. She probably lived here. She was all alone now. She only had the Stilinskis anymore.

"Oh my god, Allison," he choked out and pulled her forward into a hug. He couldn't get his brain to completely process what the last two years must have been like for her.

Allison relaxed into him, leaning her forehead on his shoulder, sniffling. Stiles stared up at the ceiling, blinking hard and willing his eyes to stay dry. He had a feeling once the dam broke, it might be a while before he could recover.

No wonder she hadn't wanted to answer his questions. It was too painful. He couldn't blame her. He resolved to try to wait until Scott arrived to go digging for any more information. All at once, Stiles was filled with a burning anger at his best friend. How could Scott have left Allison here to deal with this by herself? Hadn't Scott once professed to love this girl? Why had he left her all alone?

"I'm so sorry," Stiles whispered, his throat thick with emotion. "I don't know why I didn't wake up. I should have. I should have been there."

Allison shook her head and broke the hug. She scooted back and tucked her knees into her long t-shirt, wrapping her arms around them. "You can't blame yourself for that, okay? Deaton couldn't figure out why you didn't wake up but he's reasonably sure it wasn't anything you did."

"But he still doesn't know."

"No."

"Then it could have been something I did," Stiles said. His chest constricted painfully.

"Stop. If anyone is responsible for all of this, it's Jennifer, okay? If it wasn't for her revenge plot against Deucalion, we would have never needed to do the stupid ritual so if you have to blame someone, blame her."

"Do you mean she's still alive?" Stiles asked. "How is she still alive?"

Allison shrugged. "Scott was overwhelmed and nothing went according to plan."

The sound of the front door slamming downstairs grabbed their attention and Allison had just enough time to get up off the floor before John Stilinski appeared in the doorway. Stiles watched as his father's eyes went to the bed first before raking the rest of the room in a panic.

"Hey Dad," Stiles said, a phony smirk in place, anything to hold himself together against the grief and relief on his father's face.

"Hey yourself there, Sleeping Beauty," the sheriff replied with a genuine grin. His eyes were glassy as he crossed the room to clasp his son on the shoulder.

Stiles laughed in relief and pulled his father down into a hug. His father was alive. Stiles couldn't believe how lucky he'd been. His friends were all mourning the loss of a parent but Stiles had his. He would never in his life take that for granted. There would never be a day in which he didn't tell his father how he felt about him. Stiles would love his father enough for all the missing parents. He had to. Otherwise the tragedy would be unbearable. His father hugged him back and Stiles noticed how much smaller the man felt. Had he not been eating for the last two years? Stiles would take care of that too. For now, he'd just enjoy the fact that the man was alive. "That's a nickname I'm never gonna shake, right?" he murmured into his father's shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut. He might feel thinner but he smelled exactly the way Stiles remembered.

John chuckled and held him in a grip so tight Stiles couldn't quite take a good breath. He could feel his father shaking and Stiles couldn't imagine what two years of uncertainly must have been like for him. "Not a chance, kiddo."

"I think kissing you to wake you up is about the only thing we didn't try," Deaton said from the doorway.

Stiles jumped at the sound of Deaton's voice and his father reluctantly let go of him, swiping the backs of his hands across his cheeks and clearing his throat.

Allison took a seat on the foot of the bed. "Hey, I would have tried it if we'd had any reason to think it would work."

Stiles grinned and shook his head, thankful for the attempts at lightening the mood.

The next twenty minutes rolled by with Deaton running a battery of tests on Stiles: checking his heartrate, his pupils, his reflexes, listening to his lungs. By the time Deaton had finished, he'd concluded Stiles was about as good as could be expected after spending two years in bed. If it had been a normal coma, Stiles' recovery already would have been considered a miracle. It wasn't fair to compare Stiles to a regular coma patient though. The supernatural origin of his situation gave them no real basis for comparison or any clear idea of what to expect next.

It seemed his bodily functions were returning to normal though because Stiles had to have his father help him to the bathroom to relieve himself and not long afterwards, he found he was starving. Deaton didn't want him to make himself sick so he cautioned clear foods first. After Deaton left, however, Allison bent the rules for him a little and warmed him up a can of chicken noodle soup. He was only supposed to drink the broth but Allison let him eat the noodles and chicken too.

He was in his bed, eating a second bowl of soup that he was definitely not supposed to be eating, when a thought occurred to him. Allison was sitting in his computer chair with her feet propped on the end of his bed. His father had gone back to work to make arrangements to be off for a few days and to finish up some of the paperwork he'd been working on. The house was quiet and the clock crept closer to half-past two in the morning.

"You've been taking care of me, haven't you?" he asked around a mouthful of noodles.

Allison shrugged. "Yeah. I mean it wasn't hard. Mostly I just sat here and read."

Stiles paused and let his spoon settle in his bowl. "A Wrinkle in Time," he said, a statement, not a question.

Allison's brow furrowed. "How did you know that?"

Stiles reached over and placed his half-full bowl on the table next to his bed, a gesture that left his arm shaking with exertion. "When I was on the other side, I was trapped by the nemeton stump and I got frustrated and sat on it and then I could hear you talking. I recognized what you were reading."

"But that's it?" she asked. "You didn't hear anything else?"

Stiles shook his head and couldn't shake the feeling Allison was relieved to hear this but he decided to leave it alone.

Downstairs the front door opened and closed again and Stiles knew, without a shadow of a doubt, this was his best friend. Moments later, Scott shuffled into the doorway sheepishly, everything about his demeanor screaming reluctance.

"Two hours, tops, huh?" Stiles asked with a raised eyebrow.

Scott grinned and shrugged. "I managed to not get a ticket all the way here."

"Bonus."

The silence between them was strained for a moment as neither of them seemed to know what to say.

"You know," Allison said, standing. "I'm gonna give you guys a minute. If you need me, I'm just down the hall."

Scott stepped into the room so Allison could get by and once she disappeared, he jammed his hands into this pockets, staring down at the floor.

"That's going to take some getting used to," Stiles started to break the tension. "A girl living here, I mean."

Scott smiled and leaned back against the wall. "It's good for her though. And your dad, too. They really helped each other get through some stuff."

Stiles felt that anger well up in him again. "Well I guess they had to, didn't they? Since you left?"

Scott sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Dude, it wasn't like that, okay?"

"Well then what was it like?" Stiles asked, crossing his arms. "Enlighten me."

Scott closed his eyes for a moment before pushing off of the wall and coming to sit next to Stiles on the bed, his back to his best friend. "My mom died, Stiles. You know better than anyone what that feels like. Mom died and I was underage and I had to go live with my dad. I didn't have a choice."

He paused for a long minute and normally Stiles would have felt compelled to fill that silence with babble. He still had the compulsion but he held himself back this time, giving Scott the time he needed to finish his thought.

"I meant to come back," Scott continued, his voice heavy with emotion. "I really did. I was going to turn eighteen and come home. To help Allison. To be with you and your dad. But…time went by and the longer I was away the harder it was to come back."

"That's not a good excuse," Stiles said.

Scott shook his head. "I'm not trying to make excuses. I'm just…it's just how it is." He paused and turned, his eyes brimming with tears. Stiles could feel his own dam threatening to break at the heartache on his best friend's face. "I should have been here. I'm so sorry."

"I'm not mad because you weren't here for me," Stiles replied, fighting to keep his voice level. "I guess I'm mad because you weren't here for her."

Scott frowned. "For Allison?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yes Captain Obvious. You know she lost a parent, too. You weren't the only one to lose someone."

Scott nodded and looked down at his hands.

"Speaking of losing someone," Stiles said, his stomach a rolling ball of nerves. "Would you please tell me where Lydia is?"

Scott's back stiffened. "In the cemetery, buddy. With all the rest."

Stiles shook his head vehemently. No, that wasn't possible. Lydia was the one who pulled him back. She'd been on the other end of his tether, tugging him through to the land of the living. It had been her wail, her pleading and screaming breaking the veil…Lydia was the reason he'd woken up. He was sure of it.

Scott turned all the way around, pulling one foot up on the bed and resting his chin on his knee. He still wouldn't look at his best friend and Stiles wanted to reach over and shake him.

"How?" Stiles asked. He could feel his palms starting to sweat and his heart was beating out of his chest. "You can't just tell me she's dead. How? How did it happen?"

With a heavy sigh, Scott answered. "She went with Aiden to the loft to meet Kali. We didn't hear anything else after that. All I know is that after Jennifer Blake killed Deucalion, she sort of vanished. One minute she was there and then it's like we just blinked and she was gone. Me and Derek tried calling everyone but phones were down. Power and cell towers were down all across Beacon Hills. So we went back to the loft, looking for Lydia and Aiden and…well…"

Stiles was swallowing constantly swallowing in an attempt to keep his stomach from revolting and bringing his soup back up. This wasn't good. He'd known all along it wouldn't be but he still couldn't reconcile the story being told with what he knew to be true. Lydia couldn't be dead. It didn't make sense.

"It was…really bad, Stiles. I mean…all that was left…it was just parts. Pieces. We couldn't tell anyone apart," Scott swallowed hard and finally looked up at Stiles hesitantly.

"So there were no actual bodies," Stiles reiterated. "Only parts of bodies?"

Scott nodded.

"So then Lydia could still be alive."

Scott shook his head. "I don't think so. Her hair, Stiles. Her hair was everywhere."

Stiles closed his eyes, seeing that strawberry blonde hair in his mind's eye. No. Absolutely not. Lydia was alive. He knew she was. She saved him. She pulled him back just like she was supposed to do. This was wrong. Scott was wrong.

He must have looked as miserable as he felt because Scott reached forward and wrapped him in a hug. As Stiles put his arms around his best friend and propped his forehead on Scott's shoulder, the dam finally broke.

"We've become desolate. It's not enough, it never is." Breaking Benjamin "Until the End"

A/N: How have I not given a shout out to my wonderful beta, MarinaBlack1, yet? I'm losing my touch, that's for sure. She's the best. She pushes me to be better every time and I can't thank her enough for that.

Thank you guys so much for getting this far. I know this hasn't been the happiest of stories so far. It guts me on a daily basis. But I have such bit plans for it. Stick with me a bit longer! Thanks so much for the regular reviewers! You guys rock. And to the rest of you...what's stopping YOU from being a regular?

Much love,
Luca