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Peter knew the pack was attempting to save someone's life, but someone else's life had been in jeopardy who he cared about a lot more than some random teacher. He'd been hanging out in the corner of Cora's room, watching her and Derek, waiting for her to wake up. When he noted Derek's eyes drooping, he said he was going to get them coffee and would be right back.

Moving through the halls, he avoided the nurses's station, not wanting a run in with Melissa McCall. He did the same on the way back and was almost back to the room when he heard a scream that ricocheted through him, plucking hard at his eardrums, though not close enough to drop him to the ground.

He did drop the coffee, though, because he knew that scream. He'd heard it in his dreams, elicited it from her more than once last year.

Lydia.

Ignoring the splash of the hot coffee on the floor and not bothering to return to Derek and Cora, Peter took off at a run. He heard his name distantly shouted, but he didn't stop for it. He didn't stop for anything.

When he hit the school, he closed his eyes and felt for her, feeling the edges of her mind, seeing what she saw. He'd gone to school here; he knew it well, and the images he got from her helped him pinpoint her location. Students, parents and teachers were spilling out of the auditorium doors, though, screaming in a way that made him grateful he even could feel her--that she was still alive.

The crowd made going in problematic, so he went around, twisting toward the hall of classrooms where she was. Scanning rooms as he went by, he caught sight of something that about made his heart stop: Lydia, tied to a chair, a garrotte around her neck, and some woman moving toward the fallen sheriff. He couldn't see Lydia moving, didn't know if she was all right, but there was blood in the air--hers, Scott's, Sheriff Stilinski's.

Peter's eyes glowed blue and his claws and fangs extended as he growled. With a running leap he threw himself through the windows, knocking into the woman and sending her farther away from Lydia. He snarled, almost fully wolfed out, noting the others at the door. He wanted the woman, wanted her blood, but how much and how hard depending on how hurt Lydia was, so he spun to her, moving to kneel in front of her chair, senses trained on the woman for any sudden moves.

By the time he reached Lydia, his features were normal again, though his eyes were still glowing bright blue and the claws of his right hand were still extended. He slashed through the bindings holding her, careful not to nick her skin, then reached to pluck the garrotte away, eyeing the marks on her throat with a fury that had him growling again.

Another crash from behind him startled him enough to look and see the girl and the sheriff disappear. Whatever. He had her scent. He could hunt her down. His attention focused back on Lydia.

"Are you badly hurt?" She obviously wasn't all right, but he needed the physical damage report first.

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"Uh, obviously," Peter said, giving her a look. "You will be following all of the doctor's orders, to the letter."

Lydia only rolled her eyes at him then, leaning back against the pillows as she waited for the nurse to return.

"Are you taking her back to her place or yours?" Derek glanced over at them again.

"Where would you prefer to go?" Peter asked, looking back at Lydia to answer Derek's question. He'd prefer her at his place, mostly so her mother wouldn't walk in and wonder why he was in her daughter's room, but he also knew it was suspicious if Lydia didn't come home multiple nights while her mother was around.

"Your place." Lydia answered easily, not really caring what her mother might think at the moment. She was too tired and sore to do so, especially when the only person she wanted right now was Peter. "I'll just tell my mom I'm at Allison's." If she needed to.

"My place," Peter said, with a look at Derek, to answer the question he'd asked. Yes, it was a bit smart-ass, but not overly so and partially him pulling back a little from how vulnerable he'd let himself be the past couple of hours.

That was almost as terrifying as the attack on Lydia.

Derek simply nodded before looking back at Cora. He understood how scary it was to feel so vulnerable though, especially since he had come close to losing Hayley and now Cora in such a short amount of time.

It wasn't Melissa who brought them the discharge papers but maybe that was better in some ways. Lydia filled them out quickly, signing the papers and then handing them back. The nurse handed her her pills, the ones she could have before she could get her prescription and then she was told she could go.

"Ready?" She looked at Peter.

Peter wasn't nuts about leaving Cora, honestly, but he wasn't going to deny Lydia what she wanted, either. He helped her get her things together and fretted about her walking to the car, which, at least, he had driven there earlier when Cora had been admitted.

"Just a minute," he said, moving away from Lydia's bed, back to Cora's. He brushed his fingers lightly through Cora's hair and looked down at Derek, an apology actually in his eyes for a moment. "I need to take care of Lydia. Call me if there's any change or you need anything." It wasn't really a choice, not like it might be for someone not them. Wasn't a "girlfriend or family" situation. He'd chosen Lydia as his mate, claimed her and made her his and that made her pack, made her family, as much as blood. Their girls needed to be looked after, but needed separate things. Derek would stand watch over one, he over the other, and they would both hope Scott kept Isaac safe.

Lydia felt somewhat guilty about taking Peter away from his family but she didn't want to stay in the hospital. Clearly people weren't safe there, weren't really safe anywhere, but the only place she had even the vaguest feeling of being safe was Peter's.

Derek understood it as well, glancing up to see the apology in Peter's eyes as he nodded. "I know." He murmured. "And I will."

Standing near the door, Lydia waited as Peter said goodbye to the other two. When he finally made his way back, she smiled faintly and moved to leave the room, following him. Then she reached for his arm, holding on as she still felt a bit weak.

Peter smiled faintly at Derek, dropped a kiss on Cora's forehead and whispered for her to fight and get better. Then he moved to Lydia, letting her hold on to him as they moved through the hospital and out to the parking lot. Unlocking the door, he helped her into the car and moved to the driver's side.

"Is there anything you need we should stop and get?" Since she didn't have a bag with her this time.

"No." Lydia shook her head as she shifted in the passenger seat, putting on her seat belt. "We can get my prescription in the morning."

"All right." The percocet the doctor had given her would hold her for the night, especially given he could pull out any excess pain that bothered her. "Straight home, then."

He kept an eye on her as he drove, but stayed mostly quiet. He wanted to check in on the boys, as well, perhaps let Hayley know so the vampires could perhaps lend a hand in the search for Stiles's father.

Lydia was quiet as she looked out the window to the night around them. Briefly she wondered if she could help, if she could use whatever this banshee power was, but she didn't know how and she knew Peter wouldn't go for it. Not with her being injured and nearly killed.

Then she looked over at him. "How do you think it's going?"

He shook his head a little, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. "I don't know. No news is...just no news right now. Not tragic--we'd have heard if anyone had died. But not good, either. We'd also have heard if they found the sheriff."

He frowned. "I don't know that Hayley knows anything beyond Cora's injury. We should call her. If we can work with the Alphas who killed one of our own, surely we can ask the vampires for help? We know they're at least nominally on our side."

Lydia nodded her head a bit. "They're fast too, maybe they can cover more ground than we can." Since Scott would be distracted by Stiles and trying to keep an eye on the twins.

Peter nodded. "They definitely can. I mean, we're fast but they move like...speed of light fast. More durable, too."

He pulled into the garage under his building, frowning a little.

Lydia glanced sideways at him then. "You're not looking to become one of them, are you?"

Immortality was fucking tempting, but he just gave her a wry smile. "I don't think it works that way for wolves."

He got out of the car, moving around to get her door.

Edited 2013-08-05 05:33 (UTC)

"I hope not." She knew immortality was tempting for him. Anyone who would do the things he did to get resurrected would be interested in such things, of course, but that also meant not being able to do a lot of things you'd normally want to.

Waiting till he opened her door, she got out and stood to lean back against the car as her head still ached despite him taking some pain. "I really need to take those pills."

He didn't have a problem with vampirism in principle, but now wasn't really the time to say that. It wasn't something he was sure could work, and he had no desire to be a guinea pig.

Nodding at her comment, he moved to wrap his arm around her, then picked her back up gently and headed for the elevator. "We'll get you some water first thing upstairs."

Blinking as he suddenly picked her up, she chuckled with a small smirk. "You know I can still walk, right?" She arched a brow at him.

"I know, but you're also dizzy and your balance is off and it's not like it's difficult to carry you." He gave her a light kiss. "Hit the elevator button for me, though?"

"So you're intending to carry me right to your bed, aren't you?" She asked with a knowing look before reaching over to press the elevator button for him.

"That is the plan, yes," he said with a nod, stepping on the elevator when the doors opened, and letting her hit the button for his floor. "Get you into something comfy, in bed, with water and painkillers and sleep." To be awoken every two hours the rest of the night.

Really, she was expecting him to keep waking her up in the middle of the night for the next few days because of his paranoia that she might lapse into a coma.

"I don't have any pajamas here. Just one of your shirts." That she had claimed.

It was good she had reasonable expectations of how things were going to go, then. But he smiled at the comment. "I like you in my shirts..."

Especially when she left her scent all over it. He did not at all curl up with it close when she wasn't there. Really.