Teenwolf Fanfiction

Part 6

Scott jiggled his leg nervously under the desk. He looked at the clock; Isaac and Stiles had been gone a long time. Coach was rambling on about infrastructure while trying to construct the perfect paper aeroplane to hit Greenberg in the face with. Average. Scott stifled a yawn in the hood of his jumper and flicked through the text book, in that old age situation between needing to actually pay attention versus daydreaming (don't you just hate that?). He had just given his mind permission to wonder when a harsh buzz startled him back to reality. He quickly snatched his phone off the desk before Coach noticed and read the text: 'Stiles has concussion. Don't worry I've got it'. Scott breathed an internal sigh of relief, slipping his phone into his pocket and glancing up, doing a double take as Lydia frantically waved at him outside the classroom door. 'Uh, Coach? Can I go to the bathroom?' asked Scott, his eyes still fixed on Lydia as she mouthed the words 'finally' at him, his werewolf senses picking up the whisper as audibly as if she was stood next him. 'Sure McCall, but do me a favour and don't hurry back'. Scott slung his bag over his shoulder and strode out of the room; Coach didn't even notice.

'Lydia what's wrong?' Scott asked as he shut the door, hurriedly falling into step with Lydia's fast, frantic pace. 'They're back' she told him, her features marred with the pent up worry of weeks of stress. They burst out of the doors into the car park and made a beeline for Scott's bike; 20 minutes later they were at the Nemeton. Lydia slid off to the ground gracefully, shivering slightly at the cold that seemed to dwell in this part of the wood. 'Freaking evil tree stump' she cursed under her breath, crossing her arms and stomping over to the clearing, Scott close on her heels. She inhaled slowly, letting her arms fall to her sides as she called the Banshee to the surface. Scott watched as her pupils widened, expanding rapidly until the entirety of her eyes were black. 'Resipisco'. Lydia's voice was low and gravely, the ancient soul of the Banshee possessing her momentarily, calling out in Latin for the bridge to open. 'Hey guys!'

Scott put a hand on Lydia's back to steady her as she regained control of her body, sweeping the hair out of her face as she looked towards the two people in front of her. Boyd sat on the edge of the stump; Erica stood over him, arms crossed. 'Hey' replied Scott, sad smile on his face as he watched two of the many people he hadn't been able to save drift in and out of focus before him, the link between their world and this one unstable. Boyd returned his smile, offering a small wave before looking up to see Erica soften her stance at the sympathy.

'So what is it?' asked Lydia, already accustomed to seeing their two dead school mates. Lydia had been training her Banshee over the summer with Kira and the skin walkers, and being able to summon ghosts as her personal informants was another 'perk' that Scott was still getting used to. It had surprised – but not completely shocked – Scott when she told him that the realm of the dead co existed with their reality; the dead souls could see and hear them, but the living were cursed without the knowledge of their presence. Only a Banshee could see into the other realm, but Lydia and Scott had discovered that the Nemeton could act as a bridge between the two, temporarily of course.

Erica snorted 'nice to see you too' she mumbled. Boyd coughed, glaring at her, before addressing Scott 'she's getting stronger' he ran his hand over his face, hollow look taking over his features. 'So many people, she turned so many people' he sucked in a breath, clearly reliving horrors. Erica swung herself down next to him, placing a comforting hand on his back. She looked up defiantly, fire in her eyes. 'She's got at least two dozen Berserkers in the tunnels, and every full moon she turns another. She gets stronger with each one. She's coming soon Scott, you have to be ready' she stared at him, voice softening '... you have to tell them'. Scott shared a glance with Lydia; she felt the same, it was written clearly on her face. 'Please Scott, they're our friends too ... we don't want them to end up here' Erica looked away, her gaze unfocused, her own words twisting painfully behind her eyes.

Scott bit his cheek. Things had been so good over the last few months since defeating the Wild Hunt; he just couldn't tell the pack that there was yet another trial they had to face. Boyd and Erica faded from view as Lydia let the link between the two worlds go. Scott watched as their figures slowly became transparent. He stepped forward and sat on the ground, back resting against the stump. Lydia picked her way through the roots and squatted in front of him. 'Scott, it's time to tell them' she gripped his shoulder 'you know that we're better together, as a pack ... and I know that you hate keeping this from Stiles'. She stood and held out her hand. Scott looked up at her: kind eyes paired with an impatient 'tsk' and a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. What would he do without Lydia? He accepted her hand and the two made their way back to the bike.

He text everyone, telling them to be at Lydia's lake house tonight; he was going to tell them about Kate.

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