FBI (For Basic Idiots) [FemStiles&Derek]

Communicating

[2 Hours Earlier...]

Lydia grins when she sees who’s calling her. “Hey, sexy!”

Malia chuckles as she pours herself another brandy.

“Shit. How drunk are you right now?”

Lydia can already feel herself slowly starting to sober up at the dreaded tone of his voice. “I can’t walk, but I can drive – I mean... I can walk, but I can’t drive...” She giggles through a hiccup, but purses her mouth shut when he takes a long deep breath and pauses. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

“Please stay calm. At least, until I come pick you up... Allie started burning up a half hour ago. She was fine, for the first 10 minutes – she took the Tylenol and drifted back to sleep. But now, she’s saying everything hurts.”

“Shit! OK. It’s OK. Tell her I’m my way.” Lydia smacks her shot glass back to the coffee table and hauls herself up off of the armchair. She marches towards the front door where she left her boots, leans against the wall as she pulls them on. “Don’t waste time coming to get me. I’ll ask Malia and Scott to bring me instead. Just get Allie to Melissa as soon as possible.” She keeps her phone pressed between her ear and shoulder, hears Malia get up to follow her and the sound of Scott’s soft snores from the couch.

“OK. Be safe. I love you.” Jordan blows a kiss down the line.

“Love you, too. Love you both.” Lydia blows a kiss back into her phone before hanging up.

“Scott, wake up!” Malia nudges her knee into his side before rushing off to their bedroom to fetch both their shoes.

“What...??” Scott grumbles sleepily. Though, his eyes snap open when he hears the panicked heartbeat beside him.

“Allie is sick!” Malia calls out before rushing back into the room and tossing his boots at him.

“Oh... shit.” Scott quickly pulls himself up and shoves his boots on.

“You heard everything?” Lydia asks as she storms back to the coffee table to grab her bag.

Malia nods, looks deeply concerned, and a little confused. “I thought she couldn’t get sick...”

[10 Minutes Later...]

“Hi. My daughter –“

“Oh, Mrs. Martin-Parrish. Of course. Melissa’s with your husband and your daughter. Room 19. Go right ahead.”

“Thank you!” Lydia waves to the receptionist as she rushes down the corridor.

“Thanks, Janice.” Scott offers the usual polite smile to his mother’s work friend.

Janice offers her usual warm smile and nod of acknowledgement.

Scott grabs Malia’s hand in his then just as they reach room 19. “What if it’s serious? Bitten supernaturals don’t even get sick. Allie was born into it, like you and Derek...”

Malia turns to face him, soft frown on her face when she sees his dreaded look. “Then, we will find a way to deal and fix the problem. Just like we always somehow manage to.” He doesn’t look quite convinced enough, so, she tells him, “Y’know, just because you’re our Alpha, doesn’t mean you always need to shoulder all the problems for us.” She presses a kiss to his cheek. “And you do know that real wolf packs share all tasks and responsibilities, right? The Alpha’s not so much a leader, more of a motivator.” She shoots him a flirty grin as she adds, “More of a daddy, than a dictator.”

Scott shoots her a small amused smile.

But then, they’re stepping into the room to support their friends; their pack: their family, and both Scott and Malia freeze just inside the doorway as they see little Allie curled up into a tiny ball and sniffling almost silently into her favourite toy (the black and red two headed hellhound plushie that Stiles bought her on her first birthday.) Melissa is standing to the side, clipboard under one arm as she carefully infuses the other end of the IV needle up into the drip bag. Lydia is sat on the edge of the bed, fingers running gently through her daughter’s copper red locks, while Jordan stands behind his wife, his own fingers running through her almost identical auburn locks.