FOUR.

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STILES BECKONS the three others down the hallway after the guards have left. Illa glances anxiously back at the boy in the cell, who has backed away enough that she's certain he won't pose a threat anymore. She looks for a second too long; Liam taps her shoulder so she keeps moving and doesn't get left behind. She's lucky the kid had been hidden by the shadows so she hadn't accidentally seen his face.

When she turns back around, her eyes are closed, so she misses the concerned look that Scott gives her. His eyes direct to Liam behind her and ask a silent question. The younger boy shrugs— he hadn't known why Illa seemed mystified by the boy, either.

"We're at a crossroads," Stiles informs Illa, too focused on the task of finding Lydia to notice the interaction between the two boys. "Which way?"

"Left," she answers carefully. Stiles is smart, and he'd come here yesterday, but maybe he's just double-checking the directions with her. It could be a test to see if she's worth trusting with directions. "From there, it's a right."

They walk in silence except for her occasional directions. Somehow, the more time they spend like this, the more at ease Illa is. She isn't used to so much casual chatter and is content with a lack of conversation. Interactions with others haven't always been her strong suit, mostly because she usually doesn't do much but scream at other people.

The sound of a light above her head fizzling out catches her attention. The space behind her lids goes darker for a split second, and her breath hitches.

"It's okay," Scott tells her after detecting the skip in her heartbeat. "It's our friend, Kira."

"She did it," Liam gasps in disbelief. "She really did it."

"We have five minutes to get to Lydia," Scott announces, and all senses of calm inside of Illa are washed away in that single sentence. She begs to every force above that she'll be able to work under such pressure and that her memory won't fail her.

Someone takes her hand lightly but her arm instinctively yanks itself away at the unexpected contact. She feels guilty for a split second. They'd been trying to perform a kind gesture, not hurt her, as she's used to.

"Sorry," she whispers. "Habit."

"I'm sorry," Scott says back, ever the peacemaker. "I should've asked."

It's clear that this pack is close enough that casual touching isn't uncommon between them. And, for a moment, she'd blended in well enough that Scott hadn't even hesitated before trying to help her along. He's a truly good person at heart; most people wouldn't trust her this much, let alone try to give her comforting gestures. She's used to people backing away in fear.

She can't blame them.

"Where's the card reader?" Stiles asks somewhat blankly, causing Illa to sigh and snap out of her thoughts.

"There isn't one on every door."

His voice becomes strained. "What. You didn't tell–"

"Stiles–" Scott attempts to cut in, but Illa's quick to defend herself.

"I didn't realize you only had a key card, or I would have led you a different way." A puff of air escapes her lips. "They took some of them off after the Dread Doctors. I didn't know that included the door to the supernatural ward."

"Are you telling me that we came all the way down here just to be stopped by an ordinary key?" Stiles questions, his hyperactivity clear in the way his voice runs a mile a minute. "Are you kidding me?"

It doesn't make sense. In all three of their futures, she'd seen that they make it to Lydia. Her visions have never failed her before. They've never let her down.

A horrible thought hits her hard. What if she accidentally changed the events already? What if they don't get to her in time because of it? The thought is too horrible to bear, and she's just about to open her eyes and look at one of their faces when Liam speaks up.

"We don't need a key. Not if we can break it down."

A wave of relief so immense that it almost knocks her over rushes through her veins. Of course.

She steps back, giving the werewolves enough room to work. Her eyes blink open to watch them. The fact that they have so much strength hidden within them is fascinating to her, and she can't help but want to see it in action.

Scott and Liam both grab onto the grid-like metal of the door, fingers curling through the spaces between them. Their bodies strain with effort as they struggle to push it down. Occasional grunts escape the Alpha's lips, while Liam appears to be breaking a sweat already.

One of Illa's eyebrows quirks upward. This is anticlimactic.

"Guys, running out of time," Stiles comments anxiously after glancing down the hallway. He sounds more annoyed than surprised, and she wonders if this isn't uncommon.

The two boys pull away from the door, panting heavily. Scott motions to it warily and shakes his head. "We can't– the mountain ash is too much."

It makes sense now. She'd forgotten about the fact that the lower levels of Eichen are built with the substance, mostly because it doesn't affect her. Supernatural creatures who are still technically human are saved from its draining effects.

Liam clenches his hand into a fist so tightly that his knuckles crack. Illa's eyes automatically jump to the side of his face, causing her to stiffen as the adjusted images pummel her brain.

By the time she resurfaces to the present, Scott has already punched Liam in the gut.

She jumps back in shock as the younger Beta doubles over. Her spine hits the wall hard, making her wince.

Liam grunts, inhaling and exhaling heaving breaths as he straightens up. "Do it again."

Scott's expression twists in anger before his fist connects with the boy's face this time. Though his hits are powerful, Illa can tell he's holding back from truly causing any harm.

"It's gotta be harder than that," Stiles eggs them on.

"Do it!" Liam growls at the top of his lungs. Illa's eyes jump anywhere but his face. "Do it!"

Scott's lip curls, nostrils flaring. Her eyes follow the way his fists curl at his sides as his anger increases. His back straightens, stance becoming less of the affable boy she's used to and transforming more into the True Alpha lurking beneath.

He punches Liam hard, causing him to double over once again. She flinches at the dreadful sound of his pained shout. But Stiles knows that he has to keep Scott going for the sake of the plan, shouting, "Yeah!"

Scott's arm rears back before he hits him again, and this time, Liam's face is hidden for a few seconds longer. The older boy's breathing is ragged. "You angry?"

Liam's head snaps up before Illa can look away. His eyes are a glowing amber yellow, fangs protruding from his teeth and an animalistic growl escaping from deep within him. The transformation isn't a complete one. His sideburns are the same length, without the canine features around his eyes and jaw that she knows exist.

But then Illa realizes she doesn't have to look away, because the visions don't come.

Her mouth drops open in shock. Had this happened when Scott transformed? She can't remember; she'd been too worried about getting caught that she hadn't bothered to notice. But now she actually has time to assess this new fact. She's confused as hell by it.

"Me too," Scott agrees, and the two of werewolves work on pushing the door once more. Stiles steps back as their combined strength knocks the entire thing from its hinges within seconds. It crashes to the cement floor with a loud clatter, but Illa had hardly been watching this time. She's still staring at nothing with her mouth wide enough to catch flies.

"Go!" Scott commands urgently, grabbing Stiles and pushing him through the doorway. Without a second thought, he takes Illa and passes her onto him since she seems to be frozen in shock. He hopes what just happened hadn't terrified her. "Go!"

Illa's feet barely catch her as she stumbles along after Stiles, still numb. She isn't sure what had just happened. But she forces herself to think clearly now, because they're nearing Lydia's room and everything is so close to coming to a close.

"Come on!" Stiles yells as he wildly turns a corner, glancing behind him briefly to make sure she hasn't fallen too far back. His heart is racing with adrenaline and fear that makes his brain work on overdrive. His wild disarray of thoughts finally organizes themselves into one word that blazes in his brain: Lydia. Lydia. Lydia. Lydia.

One more turn, and they're there. Stiles abruptly stops as the breath inside him is knocked away. He feels like someone has punched his gut.

Lydia is awake now, but there's a stool beside her bed with a metal trepanation device laying on it. She lies motionless on her cot. There's blood on the end of the gun-like contraption as well as on the pillow next to her head, which is damp and causes the crimson liquid to appear lighter from sweat. He's too late.

"Stiles..." Lydia croaks, green eyes filling with panic at the sight of him. Her face is as pale as her white robe and slick with sweat. Strawberry blonde strands of hair stick to her neck. "You can't be here."

Illa stands in the doorway, feeling incredibly awkward and out of place. She keeps her eyes shut just in case the visions come back. Her expression fights to stay neutral; she can't let her knowledge of what happens to be expressed.

This...this is why she can't let Stiles die. The desperation in Lydia's voice is overwhelming, almost as if the mere thought of him being in danger is too much for her to handle. His fate will break her, and Scott, and all of his loved ones.

After all, she's seen it in their faces every single time.

"You're going to die if you stay," Lydia informs him weakly. Her voice is full of desperation. "All of you."

Stiles swallows and turns back to Illa for confirmation. Her head is down, tears glistening in her eyelashes and beginning to trickle down her cheeks. One of her hands covers her mouth. And he realizes that she's known this whole time– that she's been trying to save them.

Illa wonders if Lydia had been conscious enough to remember her from when she'd been catatonic, and if so, she understands what the Seer knows. That Stiles really will die. Can she feel it trailing her like a shadow? Is it more like a claw tapping the back of her mind?

Because the irony of her scream for Stiles is that it will be the thing that kills him.

Footsteps sounding from down the hall cause Illa to become rigid. Her heart freezes for a split second, spreading ice-cold fear into her veins. Her limbs suddenly feel heavy from the adrenaline that shoots through her.

"Stiles," she says in a croak.

"I'm not leaving," he responds defiantly, voice hard and sure as he grasps the chains holding her to the bed.

"Go," Lydia begs. Her own eyes are brimming with tears now. "Go!"

The sound of the door buzzing as a key card unlocks it causes Stiles to look back. His frightened eyes widen even more at who he sees in the distance.

"Stiles," Illa earns more urgently. She's opened her eyes. Looked at the Banshee's face. Seen both of their fates if they don't hide from who's coming.

"I am not leaving her," the boy insists slightly more impatiently this time. His fists clench at his sides. His brain seems to be at war with itself, like he knows he should run but another part wants to stay.

"If we don't hide right now," she says, jabbing a finger at the floor for emphasis, "all of this is for nothing and you don't get to save her at all."

Illa's good at laying things out how they are. She's never kept any of her feelings bottled up inside, instead releasing her anger in forms of sneers at Cross or Schrader, or expelling fear by screams. So it's easy to tell Stiles the cold, hard truth. It's harder to see him react to it.

The last part of her sentence is the winner.

As the footsteps get closer, Stiles sighs and bolts from the room, grabbing Illa's arm and yanking him along with her. She has to clamp her lips shut to stifle a shriek from coming out at the contact. Immediately, her brain screams at her to pull herself away, declaring the somewhat violent touch as a threat. But she forces herself not to react until they're safely hidden in the shadows behind the gate leading to the next hallway. It's only one space down from Lydia's cell.

So Stiles and Illa have a front-row seat of Dr. Valack walking to the doorway.

Illa slams herself against the wall, hard enough to hit her skull against it. Her mouth opens in a silent scream. Before any sound can come out, however, Stiles' palm covers her lips and muffles the whimpers. She begins to thrash, to fight, to sink to the floor and hit his chest in an attempt to make him release her. Not even the more rational side of her can fight instinct.

She tries to remind herself that it's for their own good– that he's not trying to harm her. He's trying to keep them both safe. But the urge to bite down on his hand and draw blood is almost too much for her to bear.

"Stay focused, Lydia." The calm voice of Valack invades her ears.

Lydia sounds just as weak as she did moments ago. "What'd you do to me?"

Stiles' hand goes a little slacker. Illa is still trembling.

"I've amplified your abilities," he replies, voicing what they already know. "Something that might just save the lives of your friends."

Lydia is gasping for breath, but her tone gains strength with every word. "Theo. Hayden. They found it. They were looking for Noah, but they found a symbol– a circle inside another circle, carved into a wall. The symbol of Scott's pack."

Stiles releases his grip on Illa entirely, but she's not screaming anymore. She's listening just as intently as he is.

"It was more than a symbol, wasn't it?" Valack presses. "It was a promise to reunite them."

"Yes."

"But has Scott done it yet? Will he be coming for you?"

"Someone's coming," Lydia confirms. "But it's not Scott."

"Who?" Stiles demands quietly, turning to Illa. "Who is it?"

Her eyes are glazed over and her voice is full of dread when she replies, "Theo."

________

old a/n:

theo is my problematic fave!!! not so problematic anymore i guess

okay but there was this one part where theo was just walking and i was like ???? it should be ILLEGAL for a WALK to be so hot aslfkekwkrnendjdoej

i just miss his and liam's season 5 hair sigh

–kristyn

new a/n:

it's 2019 and theo is still my problematic fave

—kristyn