"Stiles? Stiles!" My voice bounces nervously around the room and I look to Isaac and Deaton, panicked. Isaac's holding down Allison and Deaton's holding down Scott. Deaton had said that the person who held each of our selected person's shoulders down underwater should be able to bring them back from the dead. I started logically adding up the odds, but then stopped. We were relying on magic, not logic.

Deaton looks tensed, his arms gripping Scott's shoulders with added strength in case he tries to come back up for air. It's hard for all of us, but we have to do this. I don't exactly like having to drown - I look down at Stiles, wondering what we are - my...my best friend's mutual friend, in a bathtub filled with ice cubes. It must be freezing in there, and I shudder to think of myself completely submerged in the icy water.

I try to relax my grip on Stiles's shoulders, trying to seem comforting. Seconds later his body backs up, his natural instincts telling him to come up for air.

"Hold him! Hold him down!" Deaton shouts, and I comply, throwing my weight against Stiles's shoulders, my hair falling over my shoulders. But he's strong, and on top of that, following his natural instinct to survive. His body thrashes up but I submerge his head back underwater, tears forming in my eyes.

"I can't - I'm killing him!" I shriek. It's true that my bond with him isn't as strong as my bond with Allison or Jackson, for instance, but I still care about forcing myself to kill someone.

"You have to! It's the only way!" Deaton yells, his forceful tone trying to make me understand the urgency of the situation.

And I do. At least, the logical part of me does. I double my grip on Stiles, pushing him down with all the force I can muster, my hair falling around my face like curtains that cover me from Isaac and Deaton. So that they won't see my tears, falling freely, touching his face on the surface of the water.

"Stiles, please! You told me you would save your dad, so please...this is the only way...don't make this any harder for me. Please," I beg, watching him struggle, my hands gripping his shoulders tightly, and I force him back underwater.

In some strange way I understand Stiles more than I used to. Before all of this supernatural business happened, I'd always thought he was just Stiles Stilinski, that idiot who made stupid jokes and who was way out of my league and who's dad was a cop. Now i can see there are so many more layers to him. He cares about if I get hurt, or if I die. He cares about me. He thinks I'm beautiful, and he knows my secret, and he's had a crush on me since the third grade. He cares a lot about his friends and family, and tries to cover up the pain with a quip or snappy remark, but I know better. I know when he's hurting.

Just a few hours ago, he had a panic attack when all of the three sacrifices were gathered together and he knew there was a strong chance of his dad dying. He had a panic attack. He was shaking when I held his face in my hands, and it was only then when I realized how much he was trying to keep calm and trying to restrain himself. He was trying to hide his pain, again, but some of it was showing through.

Nothing worked. Nothing calmed him down. So I kissed him.

Only then I realized how soft his lips were. And I was surprised and he was surprised too, and we realized that my kiss had stopped his panic attack. He held his breath.

For me?

Right now I'm looking down at his closed eyes, but then they manage to open slightly looking up at my crying face. He moves a hand through the water and I push down on his shoulders again but he only touches my hand, holding it, as if to tell me everything's going to be okay. His hand is icy cold, but there's a certain warmth that floods through my veins when he holds my hand. I'm not afraid to cry in front of him. He told me, that out of everyone, I shouldn't be ashamed to let anyone see my cry because I look beautiful when I cry. I was surprised to hear him say that, and i still am.

I nod in reassurance, my hand gripping his tightly, my tears blurring my vision, and when I wipe them away his eyes are closed again and his hand feels numb on mine. His strength is slipping away, and his hand begins to loosen from mine, but I hold him tightly. A strand of bubbles release from his slightly ajar mouth, releasing any last breaths of air he had left.

Stiles is dead.

I only hope the magic will bring him back. His dad's sheriff badge is still in his other hand.

After a few silent minutes I look up, all traces of tears gone. "Almost done?" I ask quietly.

"We should be there soon," Deaton replies, looking down with a concerned face at Scott. I look at Isaac and he's looking at Allison, her brown hair floating up to the surface, clouding parts of her face. I shift my hand through the water and place it gently on his chest, feeling for his heartbeat. I don't feel anything. I move my hand away and I force the tears down that are trying to break free.

It seems like long, slow hours have passed but in reality it must have been only minutes. Deaton signals for us to let go, and I do, watching Stiles's head float to the surface, my hands still on shoulders, one hand in mine.

Deaton had said that there would be a sort of darkness over their hearts if they came out alive from this. What type of darkness? To me Stiles was only laughs and jokes, and he was harmless. He wasn't capable of doing bad things. Would he be? Would the darkness claim his heart?

"You'll share a certain bond to them." Deaton speaks softly, his eyes on Scott. "You must get them to wake. Use your bond that you already share with them to wake them up. You will be tied to them for the rest of your life, in ways you never could have imagined."

I barely register his words as I drag Stiles out of the bathtub, but he's heavy, and he falls to the ground. I support his head under my hands before it crashes to the ground as well and I prop his head on my lap. Please don't be dead Stiles please don't be dead oh no no no no

Just like when he had a panic attack, I must be his anchor again, to tie him back to the ground and keep him from sleeping forever.

"Come on, Stiles." I hold his face in my hands. "Come on. Please." I hold his hands in mine, willing for strength to flood into them. I have to be anchor. To bring him back again. I think I see his eyes flutter and can feel a weak heartbeat when I put a hand on his chest but I'm not too sure. I'm not going to take any chances.

The logical part of me takes over yet once again and I realize that we can't just rely on magic, on what-if's.

He must have swallowed water when he went under, so I lay his body carefully on the ground and pinch his nose, putting his lips to mine for the second time in one day. Please! Don't be dead! I blow air into his lungs, pumping his heart furiously. After seconds of begging him and CPR, I finally get to see his brown eyes again. I've never been so happy to see his eyes, and at that moment I think it's the happiest moment in my life.

He coughs up icy water and chokes out, "I can't believe I died in a bathtub."

The sound I let it is between a strangled sob and a relieved laugh and I hug him, my face buried in his shoulder and his arms weakly come up to pull around me. When I pull back his fingers brush away something on my cheek. I look down. I hadn't realized I'd been crying. But I'm so relieved to see him that I barely notice.

"And that's probably the second and last time in one day that your lips will ever touch mine, isn't it?" he says in a stronger voice, and I laugh.

Beside me Isaac's hugging Allison and Deaton is helping Scott to his feet.

"CPR wasn't really necessary, Lydia," Deaton says to me, looking half-amused and half-relieved that we managed to somehow bring three people back to life again. "He was already alive when you held his hands."

"I didn't want to take any chances," I shrug, and I help pull Stiles to his feet. He's shaking, and I let him lean into me for support, wrapping a towel around him and rubbing my hands over his arms, trying to get him warmed up.

"Yeah, I can see that," Scott says, and we all laugh. "Everyone, okay?" he asks on a more serious note.

"Apart from being mentally shaken and having to drown someone in a bathtub with freezing cold water I'm fine, don't know about you guys," I say shakily, though I can still make out the matter-of-fact tone always evident in my voice.

"I'm fine," Allison says, hugging the towel more tightly around herself.

"That was...scary," Isaac says. Huge understatement.

Then we're all hugging everyone and laughing and I'm crying again. I'm so glad everyone's alive.

"Back to business," Deaton says curtly. "Scott, Allison, Stiles, you all gave the nemeton power. Scott, Isaac, since the tree is a beacon for all sorts of supernatural beings, you two should be able to find the location of everyone's parents."

"Let's go." Everyone flies out of the doorway, but Deaton signals us behind, and we stop.

"Stiles, Lydia, maybe you two should stay behind," Deaton reasons. "I'm sorry but it's no place for humans. You two could get gravely injured."

"No way," I fire back quickly. "Stiles's dad is in there. He deserves to go. And I'm a banshee, so maybe I can help in some way. Come on Stiles." I grab his arm and drag him to the doorway to follow the others, leaving Deaton there to register that piece of information. After he pauses he follows us quickly.

"Then you'll have to do as I say. If I say run, you run, understood?" Deaton tells us seriously.

"Not until I get my dad," Stiles says determinedly.

"I know," Deaton reassures them, and he moves up to monitor Scott and Isaac.

"Thank you," Stiles says sincerely, turning to me.

"I'm a fast talker," I reply.

"No - not just that - thank you for saving my life. Both times. I really don't know what I would have done if you weren't there."

Oh.

"You're welcome," I say back lightly with a flash of one of my rare genuine smiles, and I pull him forwards so that we don't get too behind.

A/N: I really hoped you guys liked this one-shot, it's my first FanFiction about Teen Wolf and about Stiles/Lydia. Please tell me what you think ;)