Changed

Suicide

"Liam, are you...okay?"

Liam sits on the couch, his entire body trembling, his clothes soaked to the skin.

"I'm-I'm f-fine." He stutters, his teeth chattering slightly.

I laugh. "New to this...right?"

Liam looks at me, confused. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I smile a little. "You're a horrible liar," I say, whipping out my claws.

He jumps back a little, a look of shock on his face. "You're-You're....Like me." He whispers.

I nod. "A werewolf."

And then, miraculously, he smiles. It's small, but a beautiful sight all the same. "You should smile more often. You're cute."

He blushes, a look of pure embarrassment on his face. "So, I hear you're into Stiles."

I snap to attention, rounding on him. But he's grinning, and I realize he's teasing me.

"Um, no I'm not."

Liam leans closer to me, his shoulder touching mine. "Don't lie to me, Cora."

"Dude, I just met you. You don't know anything about me."

He leans back, smirking. "Except that you like Stiles."

This time, I smile at him. "Maybe."

Liam looks at me and shakes his head. "I knew it! Stiles told me he likes you."

For some reason, my heart leaps out of my chest.

That excites me more than anything ever had and I'm ashamed of it.

Maybe this Liam kid, a fifteen year old, is right.

Maybe I do like Stiles.

Scott comes noisily down the stairs and into the living room. "Here Liam, go get comfortable."

He throws a sweatshirt and jeans at Liam, who grabs them and heads off down the hall.

"So," Scott plops next to me and throws an arm around my shoulders. "Do you like Liam?"

I smile at him, resting my head on his shoulder. "Yea, he's cool. He's so young. What were you thinking?"

"Long story, tell you it another day. So what were you talking about?"

I smirk to myself and snuggle into Scott's shoulder, my whole body exhausted. "Nothing. Just school mostly. And werewolf stuff."

Scott laughs. "Oh, the every day normal conversation."

I laugh too, until Scott's face goes serious and he looks down at me.

"Thank you, Cora. For helping me find Liam and keeping me calm. For everything."

I grin at him. "My pleasure."

*****

"PARRISH!" Lydia yells, cupping her hands around her mouth. She turns to Stiles and me then. "Someone get me Parrish."

But Parrish comes running in the door. "What's wrong, Lydia?!"

He looks worried.

"We need to see Meredith Walker. Right now."

Parrish shakes his head. "No way! Lat time you almost gave her a panic attack."

Lydia raises her eyebrows. "Almost..."

Parrish frowns, looking from Lydia to me to Stiles and back to Lydia. "Fine, but be quiet about it."

And in ten minutes, we're at Eichen House, jogging into the lobby and stopping at the front desk.

"Hey!" Calls a voice from behind us.

We turn around to see Brunski sprinting up to us. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Trying to talk to a patient. What does it look like?" Stiles retorts.

Brunski raises his eyebrows. "That's interesting. Because didn't you just get out of here? Or is my memory failing me?"

Stiles's eyes widen and his heart rate picks up.

His chest heaves rapidly and his mouth draws into a tight line. "Let us in." He says through gritted teeth.

"You see," Beunski steps closer to Stiles, "those government jobs must not be paying well. Daddy may be the head sheriff of Beacon County but he still hasn't paid his bills. What do you have to say to that?"

Stiles lunges, but Parrish grabs him and holds him back. "Oh, yea?" Parrish shoots back. "Well the Department does many favors for people. Like driving people home when they test positive on a breathalyzer test."

Brunski narrows his eyes at Parrish. "Okay, okay, I'll take that."

He slaps the keys into Parrish's hand and backs off, disappearing down the hall.

"You," Stiles says, clapping Parrish in the back. "I like you. Gonna keep you."

We turn to the lady at the front desk. "Where is Meredith Walker, please?" Lydia asks politely.

The lady's face goes slack. "I'm sorry, kids. Meredith-she hung herself. Yesterday morning."

Lydia's smile fades and she blinks once. Twice.

And then whirls around and buries her face in Parrish's chest.

His face grave and shocked, his arms fall around her and he holds her tightly against him, whispering in her ear.

Stiles puts an arm around my shoulder, seeing the look of utter sadness on my face.

She was so tortured.

So unstable.

And we drove her to complete insanity.

It's our fault.

But Lydia blames herself more than us because she insisted on having Meredith's help.

"The only other banshee," she whispers through tears. "And I drove her to such pain that she committed suicide. This is all my fault."