<Scott's POV>

Stiles drives Allison home with him so they can hang out for a while. I remind them I'll be there in only a few hours. For the time being I follow Lydia home and she walks me into her house. We walk quietly into her kitchen and pull it out homework. "What do you wanna start with Scott?" Lydia asks as she grabs two glasses of water for us.

"Well to start I would like to talk about why you're avoiding my best friend," I exclaim. The glasses of water slip fro her hand and shatter on the hard wood floor. She looks around flustered and eventually grabs paper towels. I watch as she scrambles to clean up the mess. Her hands swipe around the glass shards and water under the glass slices her palm. Blood seeps onto the floor and into the paper towels. I drop to the floor and take her hands. My veins turn to black streaks as I take her hands. She immediately pulls away from my touch. Her back slams into the dishwasher door, a scream escaping her mouth. Lydia's eyes close instinctively and she lets out a calming breath.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that," she claims as she takes a few deep breathes. Her navy blue dress is soaked in water.

"Yes you do Lydia, tell me what's wrong," I insist as we sit in a pile of glass and water. Lydia squishes her face together, making sure she is blocking out everything before trying to force out the right words.

"When void took me that night, back to Oak Creek I mean, something," she takes a deep breath and collects herself beige continuing, "something happened between me and the demon wearing Stiles's face." I lean in.

"What happened Lydia, you know you can tell me," I insist. Lydia nods to reassure herself. I wait patiently for her response as she tries to come hi with the right words.

"He drugged me with something, it made me nearly unconscious and I could barely move," she explains with her voice cracking, as if she is recalling whatever horrific event occurred. "I didn't recall what happened until last night when Stiles and I were kissing," Lydia tell me, finally opening her eyes. Her giant, green, doe eyes stare into my plain brown ones. Tears build up around her eyes and slowly drip down her pale and bony cheek. "I remember myself resisting, trying to at least, and every time I tried to get away he would hurt me." My heart stops. I know where this is going and I do not like it. "To cut it short, all I can see when I see Stiles is the nogitsune wearing Stiles's face," Lydia pauses to let out a effortful cry, "all I can see is void raping me in that tunnel." Lydia finally gets out the words and then lets herself cry into her bloody hands.

I am stuck staring at Lydia with wide eyes and a loose jaw. Lydia was raped. This will destroy Stiles even more than he is already destroyed,
but he has to know, he has a right to keno why his girlfriend can't even look at him. "Lydia, you have to two Stiles," I remind her sympathetically, "you know that don't you?" Lydia lets out a sob and nods her head. She rubs her face with the bleeding palm of her hand, trying to wipe away the tears. Lydia just ends up swiping blood across her face.

"Ya, just not yet, I can't even look at him anyways," she claims as the tears slide off her jaw and into the already wet floor. When I go to hold her hand she ya is it away quickly. I pull my hand back slowly in surprise. She lets out a sigh. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pull away. I just-"

"It's fine Lydia," I interrupt her. Biting down on her bottom lip, she forces words out of her mouth.

"I invited you back with me today because I thought that maybe it would help. I thought maybe if I could be around you, a guy I mean, then I could be around Stiles, but all it does is give me anxiety," Lydia explains dismally. To show my understanding, I nod my head slowly.

"You will get there Lydia, I promise." This time, Lydia is the one to grab my hand, and I smile.

<Allison's POV>

The music plays softy in Stiles' keep after I plug my phone into the aux. cord. Stiles bobs his head to it as he drives us back to his house. "Wanna watch a movie when we get to your house?" I ask casually. Stiles shrugs.

"You can, I have to study for chemistry," Stiles claims, "my dad is coming home around six, so he can make dinner or we can just order pizza," Stiles suggests. I nod my head slowly. "Isaac might come over by the way," he tells me. I nod my head. Good, more people to keep him company.

"Don't forget Scott is coming over too, we should just order pizza, that way your dad isn't cooking for three extra people," I suggest. Stiles nods in agreement. For the rest of the ride we talk casually and laugh at some stuff that happened between Danny sassing teachers. Though through the laughing and smiles, I can still tell that Stiles is hurting on the inside.

We get to his house and he carries my bag as we approach his door. "What a gentleman," I joke. Stiles smirks for a short while. He places my bag down by the door along with his. I watch him carefully, observing everything about him. He has definitely lost a lot of weight over the past few weeks between the Desert Wolf kidnapping him and being depressed after void. I know he is still depressed, that much is clear. There are dark, almost black, bags under his eyes. This a shocking contrast against his pale white skin. His moles stand out like a dark cloud in the middle of a bright blue sky. Whenever he moves it is either painfully slow, like it hurts him to move, or awfully fast, like he is expecting someone to point a gun to his head if he doesn't move.

I may get what he is going though more than anyone else though. After dying and coming back twice the darkness around my heart is painfully strong. I still get episodes every once in awhile, but it has calmed down. But before I started getting better, it had to get worse. I remember the not sleeping I fear of nightmares, the not ever being hungry, the wanting to just die. And most of all the confusion of why I still haven't died. We go into the living room and I pick a movie from the cabinet next to the television. He turn to me from where he sits on the couch. "What did you pick?"

"The Bourne Legacy," I tell him casually. He smiles.

"Awesome, I'll go get us drink, what do you want?" He asks casually as he stands up slowly. I plop down on the soft couch cushions.

"You have coke?" I answer with a question. He puts a thumb up with a typical Stiles smile, although this one is see through, and I can see the sadness right through it. Out of the corner of my eye I see small lines on Stiles' forearm. We he moved his arm to hook up his thumb, his sleeves pulled up, revealing the marks. Before I can say anything, he walks off to the kitchen. A million thoughts run through my mind. Why would he do it? How often has he? When did he have the chance? Last night, I remind myself. He told Scott that Lydia had to go. Lydia left Stiles alone, giving him the chance to hurt himself. For days, we have all been on a schedule to never leave Stiles alone. Lydia was the one who created it and she is the one who broke it. She may be my best friend, but she definitely made a mistake. Stiles re-enters the room and I try to recollect my words. "So what did you do after Lydia left last night?" I ask casually, popping open my can of soda. Stiles hides a shudder and shrugs.

"Watched a few Star Wars movies, it was late so I was like half asleep," Stiles makes up an excuse that I know is a lie. I nod my head slowly and furrow my eyebrows.

"That's funny because you gave Scott your copies of the Star Wars movies and he hasn't given them back yet," I tell him knowingly. I watch whatever color he has left leave his face. Visibly, he shakes after my statement. "Can I see them?" I ask delicately. Stiles merely holds out his arm. With soft hands, I pull up his sleeve carefully. Various sizes of red lines cross up his forearm. Dry blood is crusted around them. I hold my breath and just stare.

"Is it still worth it to say a mirror broke while I was singing and the shards cut me?" Stiles asks with a dark humor. I guess that's just how Stiles copes. Humor is how he expresses himself. I glare up at him sternly, but not angrily.

"Not funny Stiles," I tell him with a hard toned voice. Stiles turns his face away from me.

"I'm not sorry."

"I wasn't either," I say in the heat of the moment. Stiles whips his glance back at me with furrowed eyebrows.

"Are you saying that you..." He gestures to the cuts on his arm. I nod slowly and lift up my shirt a little to reveal several different scars on my abdomen. One from being stabbed by the Oni, another from the bomb at the hotel in Mexico, a few other battle wounds. Then just at my hip bone, a pristine pink line, proving to anyone who doubts it, that I have harmed myself. "Allison," Stiles starts dismally, "when?" I suck in a gulp of air.

"During an episode when they first started," I inform him as if it is casual information. Stiles stares at my eyes intimidatingly.

"Do Scott and Lydia know?" Stiles asks.

"Only Scott, I didn't want to burden Lydia," I say, "I didn't even want Scott to know, but we were you know, one night and he saw it." Stiles doesn't say anything, he just holds me tight to him in a friendly tug. I feel his silent tears seep through the fabric of my shirt and dampen my skin. My own tears fall on his shoulder as well. "Tell Scott," I whisper, "he's helpful, and very good at keeping secrets." Stiles nods.

"He's also my best friend."

A/N hello yes I am alive,

ya, hi.

Writers block.

That is all.