Mischief

Chapter Five

This fic has some quite heavy topics like mental health, panic attacks, violence, murder, drugs, sex, human trafficking and r*pe (not described, only referenced/insinuated and talked about), so MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING.

-Tuesday 10:30 am- Stiles

After my statement was taken Derek gently led me into the break room. I'm now sitting on the couch, a blanket wrapped around my shoulders and a cup of tea cradled in my palms. The heater in the station is currently out of commission, and I also had a minor panic attack. So, the blanket and tea are to simultaneously warm me up and calm me down.

"How're you feeling, Stiles?" Boyd asks as he stands by the counter, making himself a cup of coffee.

I shrug and sigh. "I could be better to be honest," I answer. "I'm really nervous about seeing Lydia after so many years."

He nods and sits down on a chair across from me. "She missed you," he says sincerely. "We all did. So, she might be a bit overwhelming, but I wouldn't expect her to be, not while working at least."

I nod a take a sip of my tea, the warmth exploding in my mouth, and the sweetness makes me hum. "How have you been Boyd?" I ask, placing the mug down on the coffee table in front of me.

"I've been good, enjoying being a deputy. I think I've been doing well, focusing on myself. Even though my family are pressuring me to settle down with a nice woman."

It's nice that even after all this time Boyd can still comfortably talk to me about his frustrations. When we were at school I'd hang out with him in the library on Wednesdays. At first, we just sat in silence, but eventually we began to use that time to vent our worries and stress. It was nice.

"I wouldn't worry, just go at your own pace," I say.

"Yeah. Maybe. I'll just date someone that they would absolutely disapprove of. That should get them off my back."

I raise an eyebrow. "You could date me," I tease, smirking. "'Hey Mum, meet my boyfriend who works at a strip club and was a sex-trafficking victim.'"

Boyd huffs and I grin. "Maybe I should sick Lydia on you."

"Aw, V, don't be like that."

There's a glint in his eye before he rolls his eyes. "I've been talking to you for two minutes after five years and it's like not even a day has passed."

I shoot him a toothy grin. "See, I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."

There's a knock at the break room door. "I'll leave you to decide what I meant," Boyd says. "Lydia's here, so I'll leave you two to it. I'll see you around Stiles."

"Bye Boyd."

As soon as Boyd leaves the room, Lydia enters. I'm stunned by how she looks exactly the same. It's like she hasn't aged in five years. "Hello Stiles," she says, a soft smile on her face as she sits down int eh seat that Boyd was in. "I've been told that you've had a very hard time in the recent years."

I scoff. "That's an understatement."

She just stares at me, which is obviously her analysing and 'reading' me. Good luck with that. "Uh-huh. So, I'm not a psychologist, so you don't need to tell me anything. I'm just going to help you through the road to recovery and make sure you're getting the best medical and personal help as possible."

Now. I might have agreed to see Lydia, but it doesn't mean I'm going to comply or be helpful.

I lean forward. "I don't need help." I see Lydia about to rebut, so I jump back in before she can. "Honestly. Last night and this morning I was just scared and I had a panic attack. It was a moment of weakness, I'm fine now, and I have a shift this afternoon, so." I'm just about to stand up when Lydia holds me down.