Not Quite The Same (Hiatus)

Chapter Fourteen

(A/N: Hey guys! Just wanted to say that there's going to be a bit of Stydia friendship in there. Also... OVER 1K READS?!?!?!? AAAAAHHHHHH!!! THANK YOU SOOO MUCH I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!!!)

Lydia helped Stiles into the burnt house then came back out.

Scott was the first to walk forward and ask what the hell was going on. "Lydia, what's going on?" he asked, scared and confused and everything all at once.

"I-I think he has amnesia." she replied uncertainly. "We'd have to do an MRI scan, but I don't think he'd be willing to do it."

"Amnesia?" Scott repeated. "But--But, how? What happened in the last eight years? I mean, clearly something bad, just look at his arm." Scott's voice had become louder and a bit desperate.

"Scott, calm down." Derek told him calmly. "We can figure this out, but we don't want to drive him away." He was calm on the outside, but inside, he was screaming. Stiles was here, he was safe, but now, as it turns out, he doesn't remember a goddamn thing.

"Not that easy." Scott grumbled, pushing his hair back.

"He somehow knows me." Lydia said. "We can use that. I doubt he trusts me or any of us, for that matter."

"We need to get him to the hospital, guys." Isaac said. 

"You do realize that if we try to make him go, he'll run." Lydia reminded him. 

Isaac sighed and thought for a moment. "We at least need to get a story from him." he spoke, voicing his thoughts. 

"And how easy do you think that's gonna be?" Lydia asked. "You can tell that he's freaked out." 

"Just try." Scott pried. 

Lydia sighed, knowing that she would have to question Stiles, something that she didn't want to do right now. She could tell that Stiles was... different. He was guarded and tense. He seemed dangerous in a way, like he could snap at any moment and who know what would happen. Finally, she let out a sigh through her nose and nodded, before walking back to the house. 

She hesitated for a moment but slowly and quietly walked in. She walked to the left of the stairs and into the room where she had left Stiles. He was in the exact same place he had been when she had left. It looked like he had barely moved a millimeter, something that was very unlike Stiles. Stiles was always moving in one way or another. Now he was barely moving, the only movement being the small fall and rise of his shoulders. She felt slightly irked by it but shook off the feeling. She went to go open her mouth and call out 'Stiles' but stopped herself. He had said that he didn't know who Stiles was. It would just confuse him more. She didn't want to do that. So, instead, she cleared her throat. His reaction was slightly startling. 

His back immediately straightened, yet his shoulders were tense and he stood up. He sharply looked back. His eyes were alert and sharp. His hands were clenched and his feet were positioned that showed that he was ready to run if he wanted to. Lydia raised her hands just below her shoulders and took a step back, showing him that she didn't want to hurt him. His should loosened slightly but his guard was still up. She slowly walked back in. She waited until she was near him but still a good enough distance from him. 

"I'm not going to hurt you." she told him softly, kindly. "I just wanna ask a few questions. Is that okay?" 

He glanced her up and down before nodding once. The silences put Lydia in a nervous mindset. "Who are you?" she asked. 

"The Asset." 

His response was quick and clear, as though he had been practicing saying this for years. 'The Asset'? An asset was, by definition, a useful or valuable thing, person or quality. Most of the time, 'assets' were owned by the government or the army. Lydia didn't think that Stiles had been in contact with people like that, but throughout the last eight years, who knew.

"Why are you in Beacon Hills?" she asked. 

He didn't answer. He looked down, as though trying to remember something but couldn't. He shook his head. Lydia sighed and didn't press the subject. "How do you know who I am?" she asked. 

"You were there for the assassination attempt of Kira Yukimura." 

He said it so automatically, almost mechanically. He said it like he was giving a report to someone, someone important. "How do you know that happened?" Lydia asked. She knew Scott had found something on that roof but she didn't know what. He hadn't told her. 

"I was the assassin." 

...Silence. 

Stunned silence. 

Stiles had tried to... kill Kira? 

Lydia's mind was fighting with itself. Part of her was saying that Stiles had tried to kill Kira but failed and the other part was saying that he didn't know what he was doing. 

"You missed the shot." she stated. "Why?" 

"You showed up."

"What's so important about me?" she asked, swallowing her pride. 

Again, he looked down. Lydia noticed how lost and broken he looked when he did that, sort of like a puppy that had been kicked one too many times. Finally, he looked up. "You're good." was his answer. 

Good? What did he mean by that? She decided to voice her question. "What do you mean by that? What do you mean by good?" she asked. 

He didn't answer and despite her mind telling her not to, she pressed the subject. "I'm just a five foot four, red haired girl with a good sense in fashion. Why am I good?" she asked again. 

His eyes glanced down briefly but he ultimately didn't meet her eyes. She sighed and turned to leave, saying, "Just sit tight here, I'll be right back." 

She reached the exit and had stepped out onto the porch when she heard something that made her freeze. 

"You're hair's strawberry blonde."