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"Hey Stiles," came the soft voice, broken and wet. Stiles jumped to his feet, running to her side, but from her seemingly bloodless form and already lifeless body. He grabbed her hand and he winced.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, letting go. She snagged his hand back though, pulling him close.

"No, don't let go," she begged, her eyes pleading. Stiles nodded, hooking a chair with his foot so he could sit and be by her side. Her eyes tarted watering immediately and Stiles felt his stomach twist. "I'm going to die... aren't I?"

He felt sick. "Y/n don't -"

"No," she interrupted. "I'm going to die." She swallowed, winced, then looked at him. "You know, it's okay. I'm broken and bloody and lost so much blood but I did it to save you guys from the pack so I'm not sad." She smiled, beamed. Stiles felt even worse, his face twisted in agony.

"Wh-what do you mean?" Stiles croaked out.

"Theo was going to- to attack everyone. He was - was going to come in to each of your guys' homes while you slept and kill those he didn't want, like Scott, and mess With the minds of those that he wanted. Like you, Stiles. But I fought them. The whole pack. Made some damaged but they threw me off a building." She coughed, her whole body shaking in pain. "It's okay though. I distracted them long enough to be thrown in chaos. They could.. the couldn't...." her eyes started closing.

"Y/N NO!" Stiles shouted, making the girl's eyes shoot open.

She looked at him. "Stiles I don't feel good." Her face contorted. "I hurt all over Stiles." Stiles was choked by sobs and all he could think was that he couldn't let her see. He couldn't respond, barely able to even breathe. "I'll... I'll miss all of you." She smiled at him, stroking his face weakly with her free hand. Then her hand felt, limp, on the bed. She was weak, her eyes slowly dimming. "Stiles?" He hummed, his body going numb as some unseen void sucked out all of the workings of his insides. He felt as dead as she looked. "Theo... he has a plan. A- a bad one. My- my notebook... I wrote it all down. Just like you taught me." She smiled and her hand twitched and Stiles leaned forward, pressing his lips to her skin in comfort. "Sin me the song like my mom used to," She croaked.

He knew exactly what she was talking about. 'Rock A Bye Baby'. Her mom sang it to her every night until Y/n was ten and her mother had died. It was the fondest, most comforting memory Y/n left of the woman who drove her to be the person she was. Had been. Past tense.

"I-" Stiles tried.

Her face broke. "Please, Stiles. One more time, please." Stiles and Y/n were neighbors and they had sleepovers all the time, almost every night. They'd switch so neither of their dads had to deal with the both of them too often. When Stiles' dad got bad Stiles had spent more time at her house, but each night he would sing to her in his childish, out-of-key way and she would smile. He would finish and she would whisper, you're the best big brother.

Finally he managed to find his voice just as her breathing began to slow almost to nonexistence. "Rock-" he began, forcing himself to continue as his emotion began rising again to stop him. "A Bye baby, in the tree top. When the wind blows, the cradle will rock." A soft smile adorned her lips, barely there but still a smile. Stile's felt his heart squeeze in his chest. "When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall-" he swallowed as her body relaxed. The machine began beeping as her heart stopped and it was a long time before any other noise was made.

Too long. It felt like hours until the door busted open and nurses and doctors rushed in and Stiles was pushed out into the hall to stumble and fall against a wall. Too long that he stared at the flat lining machine whose beep was too loud and harsh not to overwhelm and shock him. Too long feeling her not move as the light seemed to dim and the air seemed to become toxic and Stiles seemed to be dying with her.

He leaned against the wall and then sunk slowly, slowly to the ground. He stayed that way for an amount of time he couldn't put a number too. The door opened and people came out. Someone kneeled in front of him but he couldn't hear what the were saying. They seemed to understand that either he wasn't listening or he already knew the message because they stood and left. The silence was suffocating as he slowly stood. He approached the cracked door leading to where Y/n was waiting for him to finish the song. She had to hear the end. He could sing it again. He could conjure it. He just had to sing it for her.

Just as he was about to go into the room, a hand caught his shoulder. He looked over slowly, his eyes squinted in confusion. Why would someone stop him from seeing his friend? Visiting hours were still going...

A familiar, aged face looked back at him and when Stiles finally registered that it was his dad, he was shocked. When had his dad got here? He had work until late tonight and that was hours away.

Sherrie Stilinski looked at the state of his broken son, trying and failing to process and deal with the grief of watching one of his best friends dying right in front of him. "Stiles, she's gone," the Sheriff insisted, trying to get to the boy. It was harsh but the sooner Stiles accepted that, the better off he would be. "She's gone."

The entire world began tilting and Stiles lost his footing without moving. The Sheriff caught the boy, pulling the teen against him. "She's..." Stiles mumbled, eyes wide. "She's not... she's waiting for me to finish..."

"She's gone, Stiles." The older Stilinski flinched as his son's breathing began to become more shallow and choppy.

Panic attack.

The Sheriff guided Stiles to front room where the rest of everyone was. Walking would help the boy and Stiles needed Scott. Upon seeing Stiles, everyone shot to their feet and Scott was instantly by his best friend's side.

Lydia stood by her chair, her face ashen and horrified. People looked at her oddly, the rest of the pack already used to her banshee scream by now. By the time the Stilinski men had made their way over Allison had managed to dispel the crowd with Scott and Isaac's help. The group has been in denial; they were in a hospital, people died all the time. But one look at Stiles' breakdown and one head shake from the Sheriff broke the fantasy.

The pain set in and Y/n's friend began breaking down. The sheriff was being called for duty, so Scott stayed with Stiles, the older brothers who knew her longest aching in their set way. Allison moves to Lydia, the girls who were friends with her since they were all so woven together with Scott and Allison and Stiles and Lydia, Y/n being in the middle of it all. Derek was even there and as Isaac curled away from everyone, his mind racing and his face contorted, Derek put a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. It was a comfort for both of them.

All six were thinning one thing: Why her? Why couldn't it be anyone else but her?

- Time skip -

It had been a brutal few weeks getting the funeral ready and everyone was handling it differently. Stiles was getting overly absorbed in the Supernatural and after realizing that he couldn't convince his friend to focus on school or focus on school himself, Scott joined him. Lydia sat then down for study group once a week so most of their homework actually got done but on their own time, all the two boys did was keep peace in the hidden part of the world around them. Lydia did the opposite, getting caught up in school and her studies. Allison got caught up in training. Not fighting like Scott and Stiles  ur just beating yo dummies and shooting lots of arrows at targets. Isaac and Derek had disappeared altogether.

The pack of six hadn't been together since the night of Y/n's death. In fact, even the core four hadn't hung out much since then.

The night of the funeral brought them all together though. The six stood lined up on a church bench looking at the midnight black of the coffee in front of them. Everyone was dressed in black and quiet, faces fallen and saddened as people gave speeches about what a wonderful person Y/n was.

Isaac, Derek, and Lydia weren't super close to Y/n, so the speeches went to Scott, Stiles, and Allison.  Allison talked about the memories thy had, brushing over a few details because how could she explain why the two girls had been hunting supernatural creatures with bows and guns and daggers? But she did wrap it up with a nice message about how good of a person she was. "Down the very end," the dark haired girl managed, looking over at the casket. "She was thoughtful and self sacrificing and caring and loyal to her friends." Oh how true that statement was... and only six people in the room of many really understood that.

Scott's speech was one about Y/n's hopes and dreams and goals and aspirations. He talked about her college plans and her plans for after. "She was going places," he finished. "She was determined and impossible to deny- she would have been able to conquer anything." He looked at the podium. "She'll always be able to tackle anything. Do anything. Wherever she is."

And then it was Stiles' turn. He got in front of everyone and his mouth went dry. "I... had a speech prepared," he offered. For once the boy was without a smile or a sense of humor or sarcasm. He looked exhausted and drained and about to curl into a ball on the floor and never move. Or cry. Maybe that was the expression on his face. "I had one prepared, but as I was reading it last night I knew that she would hate it so I've come here today completely unprepared." A few soft sounds of indignance sounded in the crowd and Stiles actually cracked a smile. "That she would have liked. Riling people up, bothering the masses. She wasn't perfect, and she wasn't always nice either. She had a wicked mean streak. Not MEAN, but... troublesome. She loved to get on people's nerves. She loved to bother and lush buttons- she thought it was hilarious to get someone riled up enough to yell at her. She was often too loud and moved too much. She was a terrible person to go on a date with or fall for and she was terrible at turning her homework on time. She could be so inconsistent, until it came to her family. Me, Scott. Allison, Lydia. Even Isacc and Derek she considered her family. She- she used to joke that Derek was like that creepy uncle who no one could figure out exactly how he tied into the family tree but was there and knew people so he must be apart of everything." No laughter, but Derek's brooding expression softened so the ghost of and amused smile. "Allison and Lydia she said were step sisters. They hadn't been there forever but she was still willing to die for them. Kill for them." He paused. "The regular over dramatizations we claim but don't actually know because we've never been faced with such situations." But that was wrong. She HAD been willing to die for them. She had. "Isaac she was never sure how he fit into the family, which was new because she always has either a scary accurate place or she isn't close to the person. But every time I would ask, she would just nod and smile and remind me that he was part of the family and that's all that mattered." Stiles looked up at the crowd. "She was a spaz and bad at math and always late and kind of crazy. But she was my little sister, and all of her flaws made her so lovable because she never let them conquer her. She decided her flaws, it seemed. Life had no hold on her. And when the time came, she let go of life the same way she had taken it by the horns and forced it to go her way from the very beginning of time." Tears fell down his cheeks. "Wherever she is, she's still in control and beating up bad guy bullies. I know it." He moved to the casket, which was closed for the viewing. And under his breath so absolutely no one could hear but himself and her, he whispered, "Cradle and all."

For the first time since he had sung the entire song for her, she was unable to whisper back, "Thank you. You're the best brother ever." He got to finish his part, but that would forever stay unreciprocated... and he would never be able to ding to her again.