[ The “Negative Nancy” remark gets a wry smirk out of him, though the amusement doesn’t quite manage to reach his eyes as he begins to walk away. When she suddenly catches his hand in hers however, Stiles turns to peer at her questioningly. He recognizes the look she gazes at him with, one he might have resented from someone else but only elicits a faint, sad smile when it’s from Lydia. The next few moments, as she struggles to finish a sentence, sharpen his awareness to a fine point. That’s not normal – not for Lydia Martin. ]

…Alright, I’ll believe, [ he lies convincingly, even throwing in a longsuffering sigh for added effect. ] We’ll figure something out. Maybe Derek can pitch it for once and put that Cro-Magnon brain of his to use.

[ Continuing to walk, Stiles gives it a minute before trying to address what’s really alarming him. ]

So, what were you going to say? I got you out of…?

[ The question is asked casually, but he watches her carefully from the corner of his eye, worried. ]