Hey guys!

So this is my first Teen Wolf fic, and I recently re-watched almost every episode in anticipation for the return of season 5B, and I have fallen in love with the idea of Stiles receiving the bite.

This story will take place after 3B, and will have parts from season 4, and it will be Stydia, even though I do really like Stalia. I am also debating on whether or not I might have the Nogitsune come back at a later point, because I really love Void Stiles, so just let me know!

Anyway, let's get on with the story!

Please feel free to drop a review, I would really appreciate it ;D

Lydia felt nothing but the overwhelming fear that surrounded her mind and her heart when she saw Stiles' amber eyes roll back as he became a complete dead weight in her arms, collapsing to the floor, too heavy for her to support.

Dread made her stomach roll as she called out Stiles' name. The dark circles under his closed eyes looked even more pronounced against his deathly pale skin, his forehead covered in a sheen of sweat, his lips colourless and cracked. He looked just like Void, he looked unbelievably sick.

Void had told her himself that Stiles was dying, they had even contemplated on whether destroying the Nogistune would kill him too. He hadn't cared.

But Stiles couldn't die. He wouldn't!

Lydia and Scott both fell to their knees beside the boy, Isaac and Kira standing behind them with worry and concern contorting their expressions.

Scott took his best friend's face in his trembling hands. Black veins popped up against his skin, even though he hadn't been trying to take Stiles' pain. Scott grimaced and let out a small yelp, overwhelmed by the pure agony that Stiles was enduring.

"C'mon Stiles," He whispered with tear-filled eyes. "Please, don't give up. You can't leave us, we need you. I need you, Stiles, you're my brother, and I can't lose you."

Lydia gripped Stiles' hand tight, hoping that it would elicit some sort of reaction. His skin was ice cold, his hand lifeless in hers. The only sign that he was even alive was the barely noticeable rise of his chest with each sputtering breath he took. She could hear him struggling to take in air.

She pressed two fingers to the inside of Stiles' wrist, straining to find his pulse. Weak, rapidly fading against her skin.

"Scott, you have to do something!" She begged, looking at the alpha imploringly.

Scott's eyes widened as he realized what she was implying. He looked down at Stiles, he could barely hear his heartbeat. "But Lydia...I-I can't do that to him, he's never wanted the bite."

Lydia stared at him in outrage. "Scott, he's dying!" She understood his hesitation; it couldn't be easy to do that to your best friend, and Stiles had always insisted that he wanted to stay human, but they had no choice, they couldn't let him die. "Please."

She'd already lost Allison, she didn't want to lose Stiles as well.

A tear fell down Scott's cheek as he looked thoughtfully at his best friend. He hadn't wanted any of his friends to go through what he did when he got the bite from Peter, especially not Stiles.

Just the thought of having that kind of power over Stiles, being his alpha and being able to force him to do things. It made him sick to the stomach, he didn't want to be able to do that to Stiles. Stiles might never forgive him, he mightn't forgive any of them.

But he couldn't let him die.

Scott looked to Kira and Isaac. Isaac knew what would happen to Stiles, would he approve of doing it?

Wiping her tear-streaked cheeks, Kira looked at their dying friend and gave a subtle nod. Isaac worried at his lip slightly, before he nodded too.

Scott swallowed. Lydia was holding Stiles' limp hand to her face, using her other to brush his hair from his forehead. Scott could hear Stiles' strained breathing, his weak heartbeat, he didn't have long. Not long enough to get to the hospital.

"Ok," he whispered slightly.

Another tear fell from his eye as he took Stiles' other hand in his and raised it towards him. He felt his teeth grow longer and sharper, his eyesight became better as he showed his true eyes, his blood-red alpha gaze.

Lydia closed her eyes tightly. She couldn't bare to watch. She just pressed her face into Stiles' hand and tried to pretend like he was awake and living and comforting her.

She heard Scott whisper, "I'm so sorry, Stiles," his voice muffled by his fangs, before there was the horrible sound of punctured flesh.

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Isaac and Scott lifted Stiles carefully into the Jeep, followed silently by Lydia and Kira.

Lydia wanted to believe that everything was ok now, Stiles was going to survive, but as much as she tried to ignore it, she could sense death.

She'd still sensed it after Stiles had been bitten, and when they saw Ethan lay his dead brother down on the ground, sobbing by Aiden's side, she thought she'd been predicting Aiden's death.

Allison, and now Aiden. Her best friend, and Aiden. She had never been entirely sure what she felt for Aiden, but she had really liked him. It seemed like Void had been targeting everyone she cared about.

Lydia and Isaac both sat in the back, with Stiles lying over them with his head in Lydia's lap. Scott was driving, Kira sitting shotgun.

Scott and Derek had talked about what to do, and had agreed that taking Stiles to the animal clinic was the best thing to do. If Stiles did turn and wake up, he wouldn't be able to get through the mountain ash, and he wouldn't be able to hurt people.

Lydia almost couldn't stomach the thought of Stiles killing someone, at least not as himself. She wondered whether his actions as the Nogistune counted? Would his eyes glow blue because of what the demon had made him do?

She pushed the thought away and ran her fingers through Stiles' dark hair. The bite on his wrist hadn't healed yet, but his breathing had steadied slightly, which she hoped meant that he'd get better.

They spent the drive in silence, each attempting to come to terms with had happened. Isaac still clutched the box that contained the Nogitsune with a death grip, and Lydia almost wanted to throw it out the window to get it away from Stiles.

Kira held one of Scott's trembling hands. He had barely spoken a word to any of them but Derek after he'd given Stiles the bite.

About ten minutes later, Scott parked the Jeep at the back of the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic. At this hour of the night it should've been closed, but Derek had called ahead and Deaton was waiting for the them, holding the gate open so the werewolves could get in.

Deaton had a perfect poker face, as he usually did. He didn't ask about the bite on Stiles' arm, he didn't fuss about. He just told Scott and Isaac to lay the unconscious boy down on the clear examination table, instructing each of them to get him some things from the storeroom in the back.

Moments later, the clinic was closed and surrounded with another circle of mountain ash, Deaton had taken all of Stiles' vitals and hooked him up to an IV drip. The vet cleaned the dried blood away from Stiles' wrist, taking a closer look at the bite.

"Well, it's stopped bleeding, but it hasn't healed much other than that." Deaton told them, cleaning his hands.

Lydia frowned. "Does that mean it didn't work?"

"I didn't say that," Deaton assured her. "I just mean that nothing's happened yet. It could take a bit longer because of his condition."

"But is his condition getting better?"

Deaton shrugged and looked to the two werewolves in the room. "You tell me. Is his heartbeat stronger than before?"

Isaac and Scott nodded simultaneously. They had noticed it almost as soon as Scott had bitten Stiles, his heart had given a sharp jolt, like the bite had given it a jump start, and had been going steady ever since. It was still alarmingly quiet, even if it was beating.

"We'll just have to keep an eye on him."

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The pack waited at the animal clinic for hours.

They'd all texted their parents, and Scott had let Sheriff Stilinski know what was going on. He'd been absolutely frantic, but Scott had somehow managed to convince him that it was best to stay away for the moment, until they knew for sure.

After a couple hours, the bite on Stiles' arm had started to get smaller. It was healing, though not all at once like it did with Scott, Derek and Isaac. Another sixty minutes and the bite was gone completely.

Lydia almost couldn't contain her relief when she saw the wounds disappear. She pushed down the dread, drowned the feeling of unease. Whispering in the back of her mind, voices warned her of what they had done, warned her to be cautious. But they couldn't possibly be warning her about Stiles, because the Nogistune was gone and he was himself again.

Besides, the real Stiles wouldn't hurt her, he wouldn't hurt any of them. Werewolf or not.

By now his skin had regained a bit of colour, the dark circles under his eyes were beginning to fade. Lydia just wanted him to wake up, she wanted him to be better.

"Why hasn't he woken up yet? The bite healed." She questioned, turning around to face Deaton.

"He shouldn't be asleep for much longer, Lydia, don't worry." Scott answered instead, grasping her shoulder and giving her an encouraging smile.

Even when his best friend was lying unconscious on a table, after being turned into a werewolf to prevent him from dying, you could always count on Scott to be optimistic.

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Stiles wasn't entirely sure what was going on.

He could hear everything, literally everything. He heard a collection of heartbeats, rustling of wind, nocturnal animals, footsteps. He heard voices, some higher pitched than others.

He could smell blood and grief, worry and the stench of anxiety wafting through the room.

He was lying on something cold and hard. Whatever it was wasn't comfortable at all.

He could feel something pulling at his gut, something like instinct.

Stiles was aware of everything that was going on around him, but he couldn't put it into context, he couldn't understand the situation. He couldn't move, couldn't make a noise, couldn't open his eyes. He didn't remember how he'd come to be here.

The annoyingly familiar voices were growing in volume, one of them moving back and forth like whoever it belonged to was pacing back and forth at his side.

Stiles was startled when he felt something touch his forehead, but his body didn't react. He felt someone brushing his hair back, but he couldn't move.

The person touching his hair smelled like strawberry, vanilla and concern. Was the person concerned for him? He didn't know why he could smell their emotions, had he always been able to do that?

For what seemed like an eternity, he lay there completely immobile. Every now and then someone would touch him, grabbing his hand or feeling his face, but it just became increasingly difficult to tell them apart.

The room was just a jumble of sounds and smells and emotions. The intense tugging at his gut had grown stronger as time went on, before it almost disappeared for hours on end.

When it returned, it was sharper than it had been before, almost impossible to ignore, and getting more prominent.

Soon he found that he could move again, if only a little. He could move his fingers, feel the pain as his fingernails seemed to grow at unnatural speed. He could move his jaw, feeling his sharp teeth poking at his gums and lips.

The voices around him weren't speaking words to him, but he was able to hear the nervousness in their tone. They were getting frantic.

They were scared of something.

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The group all snapped back to attention when Isaac noticed Stiles' hand move.

They watched nervously as his nails grew into claws, and Deaton cautiously reached forward and lifted Stiles' lip, showing his sharp fangs.

Night had fallen again a few hours ago; Stiles had been sleeping all day. Derek had arrived earlier in the day, understandably, Ethan hadn't come with him. The moon was full tonight, which meant that he should wake up any minute now.

Scott looked out the window of the clinic, seeing the clouds concealing the light of the moon. "Derek, Isaac, get ready. Lydia, Kira, Deaton, maybe you should wait in the reception."

Kira looked more than a little miffed at being told to get behind the line of mountain ash, but Scott didn't want any of them around four werewolves under the influence of the full moon, especially since none of them could heal. And besides, if something happened and Stiles somehow managed to get past the barrier, Kira would be able to protect Lydia.

And Stiles would never be able to forgive himself if he did something to Lydia.

The three of them hurried out of the room like Scott asked, and Isaac and Derek allowed their claws to come out. Scott held out a hand, gesturing for them to wait. The werewolves watched the window, growing more apprehensive as the clouds moved over the moon.

Suddenly, the clouds had passed and the full moon's light flooding the room, bathing Stiles in a silvery glow. Scott felt his eyes start to burn bright, blood red.

Isaac's eyes glow amber-gold, Derek's glowed blue. Scott almost dreaded finding out what colour Stiles' eyes would be.

Until now, Scott didn't really believe that this was happening. There was no way that he'd turned his best friend into a werewolf. Stiles would wake up just fine, completely human like he'd always been.

A low, rumbling growl emitted from Derek's throat as he saw Stiles' hand flex. The teen grasped the edge of the table he lay on, pulling himself into a sitting position.

And then he opened his eyes.

Thanks for reading! This wasn't my best piece of writing, and I know that writers say this all the damn time, but I promise that the next chapter will be much better!

I just wanted to get past the waiting stage and get onto the action! I'm sorry for kinda brushing off Aiden's death, I really love the twins, maybe Ethan will come back at some stage.

Also, I'm sure a lot of you will be happy to know that Isaac and Argent will not be leaving in this fic! Scott is really gonna need their help

Please review, hopefully the next update won't be too far away ;P