𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 ━━ LYDIA MARTIN

32

REID DIDN'T FEEL LIKE going to that meeting thing with the rest of the team so he didn't. However, when Stiles texted him with an, ‘SOS, Scott is not healing and is probably gonna die. We need your help, come right now!’, he found himself going to the location he texted him after that one text.

Reid was soon entering some sort of roadside rest stop after having ran all the way there in werewolf speed and saw Lydia, Stiles, Allison standing a few feet away from Scott who was sitting on the ground, his back against the wall.

"Oh, thank god you're here." Stiles sighed in relief when he caught sight of the hybrid.

"What's going on?" He questioned, his eyes staying fixed on Scott.

"I— something's wrong. He's not healing," Allison jumped to an explanation, "and I've seen him heal from far worse than this."

"I don't think you have," Reid muttered, walking towards Scott as he bent down to his level and lifted his shirt to look at the wound, his brows lifting at the sight. "Okay, this looks bad."

"Yeah, that's why you're here. We're hoping you'd have some kind of—" Stiles trailed off, "—uh, werewolf solution to this problem."

"I could take away some of his pain," Reid muttered with a nod, "but the healing part is up to him." Without giving the others to say anything, he grabbed Scott's wrist and watched as his veins began turning black while he absorbed his pain. Truth be told, Reid didn't think it would actually work. He had never taken anyone's pain away before.

He inhaled sharply at the familiar pain while Scott's breathing returned to normal. Lydia bit her lip as she stared at him, wanting to rush down there to grab his hand or do something but she didn't for several reasons.

After a few more seconds, Reid let go of Scott's hand and stared at his wound to find that it still wasn't healing. "Seriously?" He groaned, "come on."

"You know, it could be psychological," Lydia suggested making the others look at her while Stiles furrowed his brows, "what do you mean? Like, psychosomatic?"

"Somatoformic," Lydia's answer made Stiles sigh in exasperation, confused, "som—"

"—A physical illness from a psychogenic cause?" She shot Stiles a look but he still couldn't understand. Reid sighed, "what she means to say is that it's all in his head."

"All in his head?" Stiles repeated, glancing at Reid who was now standing up. "Because of Derek!" Stiles suddenly exclaimed, realisation hitting him, "he's not letting himself heal 'cause Derek died."

"So, what do we do?" Allison questioned, "because while Reid took away enough of his pain for him to live, it's not going to last."

"Stitch him up," Lydia suggested earning looks of confusion from Allison and Stiles.

"She's right," Reid spoke up, "stitch him up."

"Reid has already taken away part of his pain but he needs more than that," Lydia took out a small box from her bag as she handed it to Allison, "maybe all he needs to do is just believe it's healing."

"He's gonna need another shirt," Allison turned to Stiles, "where's his bag?"

"Um, I'm gonna get it," Stiles glanced at the needle in her hand, "I hate needles anyway, so— uh, do you know what you're doing?,

Allison nodded as she knelt in front of Scott, "yeah, my father taught me."

"I mean, how fast are you gonna...?" He paused, "I mean, the bus, like... the bus could leave."

"Well, you just make sure it doesn't leave." Allison said earning a nod from Stiles who walked out while Reid and Lydia glanced at each other before deciding to walk out as well.

They went a little further from the group of students and coach who were all near the bus. Once they were far enough, Reid looked down at the strawberry blonde, "hi."

"Hi," she smiled at him, "you left before I could say bye." He did leave in the morning after just lying there in her bed and stared at the ceiling while he toyed with her hair. Sleep wasn't very friendly with him.

"You were still sleeping," his hand went to her face as he slowly brushed his thumb over her lips, "I didn't wanna wake you up."

"I know you didn't sleep," she muttered, "I could feel you playing with my hair all night. Why didn't you?"

"Insomnia," he replied simply before lowering his head so his lips was inches away from hers. She was the one to make the first move as she placed her lips on his. Reid grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, he didn't know how to feel about how much he missed her over the short period of time.

Just as he was about to deepen the kiss, they heard the coach shout, "everyone back on the bus!"

The pair reluctantly pulled away from each other. Lydia smiled as she brought her hand to his lips and wiped away the lipgloss that was got on the side of his mouth. "Let's go."

"Wait, what? no," he shook his head, "coach can't see me here. I told him that I'm sick— you know, the I-can't-get-outta-bed kinda sick. He can't see me here. You go."

"I can stay with you."

"No, go with them." He reluctantly said, "if anything happens, at least someone's smart's gonna be there to help them."

"Fine," she sighed and brushed a strand of his hair away from his forehead, "but why do you assume that something's gonna happen?"

"Because something always does, doesn't it?"

"True that," she placed a quick kiss on his lips, "bye, I'll see you when I get back and call if anything happens. Stiles gave me your number."

"Of course he did."