If there was one thing that Ryan Summers had come to regret, it was spending less time with Allison and Lydia before her coma.

   Although she would consider them both to be in her best friend circle, before everything happened the redhead had been keeping a massive secret from them both. Ryan knew the ins and outs of the supernatural world since Stiles opened his big mouth about it, but that didn't mean the other girls did. They were left in the dark.

   And in leaving them in the dark, it also meant that Ryan had almost seemed to leave them behind. Whether or not she wanted to—it was necessary. But that didn't mean it was easy.

   So, as soon as Allison had called her with a dilemma, Ryan had answered with the best intentions. She wanted to help in anyway she could, and maybe try and make up lost time in the process.

   The burn like marks that were on both Allison and Lydia's forearms may not have seemed like much to anyone else, but Allison was almost insistent that it was something —or that it meant it. 

   Ryan didn't need much convincing, because if it meant something to the girls then it meant something to her. And a mysterious woman leaving a code pushed into their skin was rather normal in comparison to the shit that Ryan had seen and been told about. Beacon Hills had a high standard for weird incidents, so much so that nothing really phased the redhead at this point.

   Both Lydia and Allison had told Ryan the story of how the marks found themselves on their arm. The woman had asked for Scott and then ran like her life depended on it, only leaving a weird impression on both girls and bruise like marks to prove it. 

   This was after a huge flock of birds flew right into the English classroom that Ryan was supposed to be in if she had not been at the hopsital. The classroom that Stiles, Lydia and Allison were all in.

   It was that incident that had Beacon Hills High talking, and Ryan didn't know if she should be grateful or pissed about it. With her first day being a mere few hours ago, pre-coma Ryan would have wanted all eyes on her, even if there had been an unexplainable animal incident that day.

   But Ryan now felt grateful. She was grateful that all her friends were okay, she was grateful that nobody cared that much that she was back from the almost dead, and she was grateful that nobody was focused on her and her coma for the time being. Albeit short bliss, it was still some sort of solace for her.

   So, Ryan was sat in the backseat of Allison's car, with Lydia and Allison herself in the front seats. They were headed to find Scott and Stiles, to see if maybe they could help them figure out what all this meant—the burn marks and the girl trying to find Scott like her life depended on it.

   Ryan felt slightly guilty at going to find the pair right now, considering they were currently at a party that Stiles had been talking about for a few days now. It was Heather's party—a girl which Stiles had known since nursery, and someone that Ryan didn't exactly get along with.

   The redhead didn't have a clue what Heather didn't like about her, all she knew was that the day Stiles introduced them at the mere age of six the blonde instantly had an issue. Ryan always put it down to jealousy—maybe Heather didn't like that Stiles was friends with another girl? Better yet best friends. 

   That was well over ten years ago though, and Ryan hadn't seen her since. This didn't mean it made it any less awkward that she was planning on crashing her birthday party. 

   Ryan was a lot stronger than she was back when she was six however, and quite frankly she wasn't in the mood for petty shit. If Heather had an issue with her still, after a decade, she was sure she could hash it out. Maybe it would make Ryan's day seem more normal, for she could deal with bitchy teenage girls a lot better than animal attacks and other supernatural weirdness.

   "I don't know, it doesn't look like much to me," Lydia spoke aloud after her pen finished tracing the marks that adorned both Allison's arm and her own. She let her arm sit next to the brunette's and observed the red marks, now covered in blue ink.

   Ryan moved forward slightly in her seat to get a better look of her own. She too could see where both girls were coming from—on one hand the marks did align with each other when their hands were placed together, which in itself was odd. But Lydia did have a point, what if they were simply looking too much into it? 

   "It's a pattern, it means something," Allison said back,  in the tone of hers that meant Ryan knew there wasn't anybody that could change that thought. It was determined, unwavering. This meant something to Allison.

   Lydia clearly had the same thought process as Ryan, as her next statement wasn't one trying to prove what she thought. It wouldn't change Allison's mind. "You really think Scott's going to know what it is?"

   "No, but he might know someone that does."

   Ryan moved back in her seat now to lean her full weight against the car's back row. She fiddled with the seatbelt that hugged loosely across her shoulder. "He's pretty much the only help we've got."

   And Ryan wasn't wrong in that statement, which is why a small silence fell across the girls. The trio were relatively alone in the supernatural world, with Scott being their only real point of contact. None of them knew Isaac that well, or Derek. He was especially on Allison's hit list. Allison's dad also didn't want anything to do with the world, which was what he thought Allison was doing too.

   They were reasonably alone in this.

   "How are you so sure it means anything at all?" Ryan redirected the conversation back to the issue at hand. She didn't want the whole car ride to be doom and gloom.

   Allison glanced back at her redhead friend at the question, before she faced the road once again. Her hands gripped the steering wheel. "Because that girl wasn't just looking for Scott. It's like she needed to find him—like she had to. And that means something."

   Ryan hadn't been there for the altercation with said girl, but she had no doubt in her mind that something was up. Allison wouldn't be so weary if there wasn't. She especially wouldn't be so willing to see Scott—her ex-boyfriend that she had vowed to keep her distance from.

   "Well then," Ryan sat up a little straighter in the back. "Let's go crash a party."

---

   Not only had Allison being trying to ring Scott the entire way to Heather's house, but Ryan had been doing the same to Stiles.

   Neither of them got an answer. Which could have been reasoned with for Scott, but Ryan furrowed her brows at Stiles ignoring her calls. And texts.

   That never happened—Ryan couldn't remember the last time that Stiles had taken more than ten minutes to respond to her. Whether it be something as simple as Ryan asking for dinner ideas or her venting about her mother, Stiles always answered.

   So, he better have had a great excuse. Because if the roles had been reversed, Stiles would not hesitate in giving her an earful, which meant Ryan felt she had rights to do the same. In fact the boy had done so earlier that day when Ryan had ignored his texts while she was the hospital—she supposed maybe he was giving her a taste of her own medicine.

   All three of the girls clambered out of Allison's car when they arrived at the address. Ryan gently shut the door behind her as her boot covered feet hit the pavement. 

   Ryan's hand pushed through the ends of her red hair, combing through the tiny tangles nervously. She wasn't quite sure why the whole situation made her anxious.

   Maybe it was rocking up to Heather's house without an invitation when Ryan knew fully well they would not be wanted, or maybe it was not knowing what was keeping Stiles from his phone. Either way, heavy bubbles had settled in the pit of her stomach.

   Scott had clearly been more pro-active on his phone, as the boy stepped out of the house at the exact time the three girls got out of the car. His eyes roamed across them all individually, confusion etched onto ever bit of his face.

   "This isn't the talk we were going to have, is it?" Scott spoke, his attention on Allison as he stepped closer.

   Allison shook her head in confirmation, yet Ryan had not a clue what the two were talking about. It seemed personal though, the redhead could be nosey later. Right now there were more pressing matters.

   "I need to show you something," The brunette spoke up while she rolled up the sleeve of  her patterned coat. The bruise type mark was visible across Allison's forearm.

   Scott eyed it curiously, before his eyes shot back up to the girl in front of him. 

   And Ryan's arms crossed defensively across her chest then. Because she knew that look that Scott wore, one of pure worry.

   Which didn't bode well for them.

---

   Ryan hadn't been in Stiles' Jeep since before her coma. She realised that as she sat in the front seat, her feet kicked up on the dashboard—a habit that Stiles had long since tried to stop her from doing. It never worked.

   There were so many memories that the redhead could pinpoint happening in this vehicle—Ryan stumbling into it when Stiles would pick her from parties, when the two would carpool and sing to the throwback songs on the radio, and the most recent before the accident was when Stiles took her to their sophomore homecoming dance. 

   He picked her up, offering a corsage and telling her how pretty her dark green dress was. Like they always did, for every school dance ever since Ryan could remember.

   Stiles put the car back into drive before he reversed out of Scott's driveway. The boy had just jumped out of the vehicle a few minutes ago, after giving both his friends a goodbye.

   The trio had left Heather's party not long after the girls had arrived. Not only did they bring down the mood of the party, but Stiles had stumbled out of the house in both slight annoyance and what seemed to be worry. He muttered a few things to himself before he was ready to go home. Scott promised them all he would look more into the marks on Allison and Lydia's arms the next day, asking Derek about it could wait for the night. Especially since they didn't know exactly if it was anything to be worried about.

   And Ryan had figured it would be easier if she went home with Scott and Stiles instead of Allison and Lydia, since she was staying at her father's house that night which happened to be neighbouring right next to the Stilinski's.

   "Are you going to let out what has been annoying you for the past twenty minutes? Or are we pretending like it didn't happen?" Ryan spoke up now, her gaze moved to the boy next to her.

   She watched as Stiles' jaw clenched, along with his hands that held the steering wheel. His focus didn't falter however, as she continued to watch as he reversed. He had barely said a word the entire drive to Scott's, simply letting his two best friend's fill the silence that submerged the vehicle. It was clear something happened at the party that he wasn't letting up on, Ryan figured it probably had to do with why he never ended up answering her calls.

   Ryan sighed before her hand moved to the gearstick, moving it quickly so it sat in park. She reached and pulled the hand break tight too—for extra insurance. "Stop, Stiles."

   She didn't remove her hand from the gearstick. Stiles turned to face her with a look of defeat, and the girl only rose her eyebrows  in question. Almost like she was egging him on to try and move the car.

   "We can't just stop in Scott's driveway."

   "I'm sure he'll get over it. Talk to me, Stilinski."

   A deep breath came from the boy while his hands rubbed over his face, in a stressed like motion. He finally rose his eyes to look at the redhead, blinking slowly. It seemed he realised that Ryan wasn't going to let him away so easily—she was going to make him spill it. "I'm frustrated."

   "Obviously," Ryan retorted. The girl kept her hand on the gearstick, knowing her best friend way to well to simply remove it. He would be there in a second trying to drive again, ready to avoid his problems for as long as he could. "So tell me why."

   "You won't understand," He mumbled rather quietly, eyes that had once met Ryan's moved in the other direction now. They darted around the dashboard in front of him, almost like Stiles was trying to look anywhere that wasn't Ryan Summers.

   That fact only made the redhead more curious. Not only for her own nosiness but also for the wellbeing of Stiles, he looked like he was about to start shaking in frustration. Ryan didn't really fancy him driving like that and flipping the car on the way home. She just got out of a coma, she wasn't quite ready to go back under. 

   "Try me, Stilinski. You'd be surprised at what I can understand."

   Stiles let an audible sigh, a loud one at that. It almost made Ryan roll her eyes, although she kept that urge to herself. She didn't understand what was so hard to say—but the girl wouldn't let that slip. She knew she had Stiles on the very edge of telling her.

   Stiles' voice was small now as he spoke. In fact, Ryan didn't think she had ever heard the usually loud and confident boy be so meek. "It's about sex. That's why you won't get it, Ry. You don't have to worry about your first time since you had it ages ago."

   If Ryan was allowed guesses as to what she thought was bothering her best friend, his answer would easily have been in the section of things she would never have guessed. Her eyebrows rose slightly in surprise of Stiles' words. 

   Her brown eyes narrowed at the boy next to her, as she hesitantly tried to clarify what was going on. "The issue is that you're sexually frustrated?"

   "No!" Stiles nearly seemed to jump out of the driver's seat at the way that was phrased. It made it sound like he was mad nobody would have sex with him, which wasn't the case. It didn't bother him that he hadn't had sex yet, that wasn't that big of an issue at the mere age of sixteen. "It's not that."

   "Because, it really isn't all that, Stiles," Ryan started to ramble in her own thoughts, ignoring completely the deterrence that Stiles had offered in response. Stiles was right in saying that Ryan wouldn't understand where he was coming from, the girl had lost her virginity to her ex-boyfriend, Logan, around a year ago. And she truly wasn't lying when she said it wasn't all that—in her eyes anyway.

   Stiles rolled his eyes now at the ignorance from his best friend. Once Ryan got on a train of thought, there usually wasn't much use in trying to stop her. She would continue to move in her own head. "I'm frustrated because it was going to happen. Tonight. With Heather. But she bailed at the last minute, I have no clue where she even went. It's just annoying—I got my hopes up when I shouldn't have, which is my fault really."

   That last few sentences from Stiles caused the redhead to focus on the gangly boy next to her. Her golden flecked eyes didn't move from where they rested on his face, the same face she had probably looked at in life more than her own. "You and Heather?"

   Ryan didn't know where that disbelief was coming from. It was probably from barely hearing from the blonde girl for over ten years and then having Stiles go to her party. And almost sleep with her. Ryan shuddered a little at the thought, feeling a heaviness set in the pit of her stomach. She could feel it getting heavier the more her brain ran with the thought of them together.

   His lips on hers, their hands touching and movin—

   Stiles looked hesitant as he talked now, his words fell slower from his mouth than before. "Yeah. But she bailed, so—virgin status maintained."

   Ryan felt a harsh pinch on the side of her leg, before she realised that it was her own fingernails digging into the skin of her slightly exposed thigh. Leaving small crescent marks on the pale skin. 

   It had to be because it was Heather, and the blonde girl had never once been nice to Ryan. That was why this whole scenario seemed to bother her so much, because the redhead could think of a million people better for Stiles than her. That was it. 

   The redhead felt herself let out a tiny breath. "Don't act like it's a bad thing, there is no timeline for when you have to have sex."

   "That's exactly what someone would say when they've had sex."

   Ryan let out a huff at his smart ass retort. Sometimes being friends with Stiles felt like living with a toddler—he barely listened, always talked back and barely stopped moving. Whenever she would make that comparison, Stiles always reminded her that at least he doesn't vomit on her—except for that one time when he drank for the first time and ruined Ryan's new pair of boots. 

   "Anyway," Ryan spoke pointedly, causing Stiles to bow his head sheepishly. His mouth running off stupidly wasn't news to either of the two in the car. "You'll survive, Stiles. Her loss."

   Stiles nodded in agreement, albeit a little reluctantly. "Now that I have told you my embarrassing sex fail can we please leave Scott's driveway?"

   And Ryan had actually almost forgot about the position Stiles' Jeep had taken. They were still right outside the Mccall household. The redhead moved her hand from the gearstick that she so heavily guarded before, letting Stiles take control of his car again. 

   Even as the pair drove away, silence filled the car and Ryan's mind couldn't stop picturing Stiles and Heather together. The way they would have moved together, the small moans that would have escaped their mouths, the moments they would have shared.

    "Why have you gone quiet on me, Summers?" Stiles' voice interrupted the spiralling thoughts that plagued Ryan's mind. It really was doing a number on her—maybe it was because she knew once Stiles found someone he loved, there wouldn't be room for her anymore. In the one place she always had someone who cared for her, she knew that Stiles and her couldn't stay this close forever. And that was fucking scary.

   Ryan tilted where her head rested on the seat, looking at the boy now. Despite driving, Stiles glanced repeatedly at the redhead, almost struggling to look away from where she sat. Ryan felt a pull in her chest at the thought of ever having to leave this seat, ever having to leave Stiles in any kind of way. Her voice was quiet as she spoke. "You'll find someone, Stiles. I mean it. Anybody would be lucky to have you."

   Ryan didn't miss the slight pinkness she could see coat his cheeks at her words, even in the darkness that filled the car. He never had been good at taking compliments.

   The redhead let her eyes fall shut then, it was easier to deal with the images that now filled her head that way. Because instead of continuous thoughts of Stiles and Heather, her mind was now filled with visions of her without Stiles—birthdays without him trying to make her his signature chocolate cake, long car rides without his stupid tangents and jokes to fill the time, and nights without knowing he would answer her call within two rings. 

   And those hurt way more than the thought of him with Heather, because Ryan knew that one day they would become her normal. They would come true, leaving a stinging sensation in her heart that settled.

   Almost like her heart was breaking at the thought.

---

   i am the worst updater lol idk if anyone even still reads this story but i love ryan and stiles so i'm going to keep writing anyway. hope you all enjoyed this, my poor ryan and her confusing feelings :(