[She shakes her head against his shoulder, the apologies and panicked pleading melting into sobs for a few moments before she lifts her head, still shaking it...trembling, crying, but it's all spilling out.

Because it's Stiles and he's here, and that missing limb she's been nursing is regaining some sensation. Pins and needles, prickling and painful, but she feels a little more whole.]

It's not...okay...it's not okay, it was...I killed some--I turned Tig, and--and I bit Isaac, and it was black and he bled and bled and...it's...and Scott and...God, Lydia--I thought I was helping! Stiles I can't--it's not...please, it's not okay, don't make it okay, I can't--I shouldn't--

[She can't be forgiven. She shouldn't be forgiven. The comfort he's offering, the safety and the reassurance...it doesn't belong to her, it belongs to her victims.

She has victims. She hurt people and she liked it...]