"There's nothing else we can do." Deaton sighed rubbing his icy, wet hands on his face. Lydia's face snapped up glaring at him. Isaac followed suit, and strolled across the room to stand on the opposite wall with the vet.
"Lydia, come on." Deaton watched her stare at Stiles' pale face under the water. "It's up to him now."
Lydia begrudgingly made her way towards the men, glancing back at her friends lifeless and alone. If there was some sort of heaven and hell and something in between, she prayed they were together there. Once she claimed the middle of them, all three stared on in strained patience. They'd wake up, they had to.
Isaac threw an arm over her shoulder and pulled her to him for a moment, rubbing her arm with his large, warm hand. Lydia hadn't realized she was shivering. She smiled weakly up at Isaac and she saw a ghost of one flicker on his down turned mouth.
Deaton had went out into his front office hours ago, Isaac was laying on the floor, his eyes closed, but as far as Lydia could tell, no where close to sleeping. Lydia rested against the wall and crossed her arms. It had been so long. She could barley register the time, but a day had passed, her mother called, furious. Lydia explained she and Allison had a History project to complete and she was just going to sleep over there.
Lydia was worried. What if Deaton was wrong? What if Lydia didn't have the connection with Stiles that the vet thought she did. Stiles had shamelessly admitted to having feelings for her, and Lydia could never muster anything more than an eye roll towards him. She couldn't let herself believe that someone cared about her, more than Jackson, more than she cared about herself. It wasn't fair to Stiles. And then she kissed him, and it probably made him think they were meant to be.
The red head pressed her fingers harshly to her lips, mimicking the same pressure that her kiss with Stiles administered. She gave the both of them false hope, because she couldn't risk anything happening with Stiles. She couldn't risk his life with all these new abilities she hadn't figured out yet.
"Something's happening!" Isaac shouted. Lydia hadn't realized he got off the floor. Deaton flew in, smiling, and for the first time since they went under, she seemed hopeful. Lydia pushed away tears she hadn't realized she cried and stood straighter, more confident. Isaac took the spot at her side again just as Deaton motioned them to stay back.
It was like a scene out of one of those intense action movies Jackson and Danny used to drag her to. The water rippled and then all at once the three came up, jumping from the water, gasping for air. Scott was out of the tub first, shaking, but unharmed.
"You guys were out for a long time." The hopeful, revived looks on their faces drained some, confusion swept in along with a sever chill. Lydia ran to grab towels. She handed Stiles' his and he gave her a quick glance.
The bell chimed above the front door of the vets office and Lydia nearly forgot that this was an actual functioning establishment on off days. "I'm looking for Lydia."
It wasn't Aiden, and she wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. But Ethan's face didn't seem comforting. She felt something, something wrong inside of her. But she ignored it. "What do you want?"
Ethan's eyes, identical to his brothers looked at her sadly, but Ethan always seemed a little more emotional, less guarded. "I need your help."
"With what?" Stiles popped out of the back, a glare set for the alpha. Lydia wanted to grin or roll her eyes. She heard the authority, the protectiveness she always chastised him for. But she couldn't deny she liked it this time. They had had the night from hell, and never knowing if he would wake up, left her a little tender to anything he wanted at this point. Not that Lydia would ever admit that, to anyone. Not even herself.
"I'm gonna go with him. You guys focus on finding your parents. I'll try to help Derek." Lydia stepped out from the protective barrier the backside of the veterinarian office provided. She stood next to Ethan and saw the accusation on Stiles' face.
"No. How do you know he's telling the truth?" Lydia started to speak, wanting to sooth his doubts. Ethan wouldn't hurt her, she could feel it.
"Stiles." Scott muttered slowly. "Let her go."
Lydia wanted to thank Scott, but instead she just grabbed Ethan's arm and rushed out the door.
The drive to Derek's loft was quiet. They took her car, and she hoped there would be no damages inflicted on her baby. The last time, her father looked like he would kill her. Though thinking of murder right now didn't exactly help.
"Thank you, for coming with me. My brother really isn't bad. I swear. He cares about you, Lydia. He's just not ready to admit it to himself yet."
Lydia nodded, keeping her eyes on the road. She wasn't really happy with Aiden, not after Boyd, not after seeing the destruction he caused. Ethan seemed remorseful and she held tight to that feeling.
Peter made sense. And Lydia wasn't one to think anything positive about Derek's crazy, unsympathetic, cowardly uncle. He wanted Derek to run; surprise, surprise. But Lydia couldn't argue. Although Derek Hale wasn't Lydia's favorite person, she didn't want him dying.
"What do you feel, Lydia?" His voice echoed through her head, and it took all her strength to keep eye contact. She would be damned if she let him have any satisfaction. What did she feel? She felt such a hatred for that man burn through her bloodstream it could power a small city. But he knew something about her that she didn't and at the moment, she wanted him to tell her everything he could about banshees and how he knew she was one. She wanted everything to finally make sense because Lydia promised herself she would never be left in the dark again.
But a cold swept through her, and Lydia had to suppress the shutter. She didn't know if Peter Hale induced the feeling, but it was something. "I feel like I'm standing in a graveyard."
Part of her felt it, believed that they would all die. The other part of her wanted to get Derek and Cora the hell out of there. Peter could stay for all she cared. He could die trying to forge some sort of sympathy for his family every person in the room knew he didn't care about.
But they left, including Peter and Lydia felt like she had done one thing right that day. Her and Ethan waited, he knew Aiden and Kali would be coming soon. And when the time came that she was finally face to face with the alpha, Lydia wasn't scared at all. Part of her believed it was because she had some twisted immunity that no one understood, sans Dr. Deaton, most likely. She made a mental note to ask him about it if she survived.
As Kali walked closer, not at all amused by Lydia's lack of tact, she heard a deep rumble from within Aiden, who had eyes set solely on the back of the woman's head. She grinned, a cat like face and turned her back on Ethan and Lydia. She started snickering at Aiden. Professing that Lydia was just a job and the red head looked away, because despite not caring much about him, she didn't really like not having all the facts.
Before anything could happen between Aiden and Kali, a dark figure crashed through the glass ceiling and flawlessly landed, snarling, confident and crazy. Lydia's English teacher never looked more deadly. Not even on the night she strangled her.
She watched in awe as Jennifer ripped Ethan and Aiden from each other, effortlessly throwing them against separate walls. She watched on in horror as Jennifer, calling upon the darkest power Lydia could ever imagine, sent shards of broken glass into any exposed skin Kali had, killing her.
And then Jennifer turned to Lydia. Poised and ready for pretty much anything, Lydia assumed. The pounding in her head was coming from her heart and her brain and her veins all at once. Lydia tried to calm down. Not to let fear cripple her.
But something bigger than her English teacher came from the shadows and Lydia couldn't believe this was what she had missed out on witnessing. What Stiles was so theatrical about. Lydia knew better than to believe he was fabricating the story, but seeing what Ethan and Aiden could do left her shocked, open to an attack.
It charged at Jennifer, and in one perfectly practiced, fluid motion, she snapped it's neck, and Lydia knew it was over.
"What do you want from me?" Lydia asked, pressed against the wall, the wind from the storm detaching spars hairs from her perfectly made braid. She wanted to go back to that past morning, when her mother's soft, soothing hands brushed it all into place.
"I want you to scream." And then Jennifer's face was back to that of a monster. Lydia had only thought she imagined that tortured and beaten corpse like face on the night of the concert. She wasn't even that close last time. But leave it to Lydia's keen, perceptive mind to collect every detail and be one hundred percent accurate.
And it came from the deepest part of her. A part that Lydia was sure wasn't human. Her screams echoed and she prayed she woke the dead. Anything had to be better than this. When she stopped, physically incapable of screaming anymore, She slowly crept to the ground and hugged herself. Jennifer, who was back to the beautiful and not so doe-eyed teacher, crouched before her and patted Lydia's face with a gentle hand.
"That a girl." She snickered condescendingly and moved towards the center of the room and waited. For what, Lydia was fearful for.
When Derek Hale burst through the doors of his loft, Lydia thought her prayers were being answered. Cora rushed in after him, running to Lydia and in that moment, she finally appreciated the younger Hale.
"Just help me." Jennifer begged. Lydia knew Derek would cave. He cared too much, and she just wished he had gotten out of there in time. But he left moments later, staring apologetically at his sister and vanishing in the cold, dark night with the Darach.
Cora was pulling Lydia to her feet, begging her to move, telling her they needed to leave. Lydia didn't know where to go. Everyone was looking for the parents, what could they do? As the girls made their way towards the front door, they heard a pop and some stretching and were faced with Ethan and Aiden back to their rightful forms.
"They're alive." Cora whispered astonished. Lydia felt that hope again, the same one she felt when Dr. Deaton was smiling in his office. Things might look up.
Cora sprung into action. "That's your car out front, right?" Lydia nodded, confused. She grabbed one of them, -it was too dark to figure out which- and ran out of the room, a blood twin on her back. She came back moments later. "Come on, Lydia, lets go." She grabbed the next one, Lydia saw in the pale moonlight that it was Aiden, and she quickly came to her feet and followed an impressively strong Cora out of the room and to her car.
"Where are we going?" Lydia yelled over the brewing storm.
"Deaton's!" Cora answered, slamming the back door and hopping into the passenger side. Lydia took a deep breath and sped out of there.
Deaton was fast, as if someone would be back, and grabbed Aiden and rushed him into the back room, Lydia followed behind, as Cora started bringing in Ethan. Once inside, the storm stopped echoing in Lydia's head and she could think clearly. Deaton instructed her and Cora to help set up the stations and promised that as long as they could heal on their own, Deaton could help them.
Lydia stood next to Aiden's unconscious body. He was willing to save her life. She really hoped they could save his.
"Have you heard anything?" She asked once Deaton came back in the room, a towel over his shoulder and a large needle in his hand.
"No." His voice was dry, and he wouldn't meet her gaze.
She was worried about Stiles and Allison. Had they found the tree? Were their parents still alive? Was Scott and Isaac powerless by the moon? What about Derek? Lydia couldn't stop the constant rush of questions and fear to sway her in every different direction. She tried to feel through it, like Peter had suggested. Where was he now?
She closed her eyes and waited. Waited to feel something, anything. But the only thought was that everything would be okay. She wasn't sure if it was denial. Lydia was great at denial. But because she wished things to be okay. They would be. She needed them to be.
"They're waking up." Cora breathed in a sigh of relief. Lydia moved again towards Aiden. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled up at her. She rested her hand on his shoulder, and couldn't shake the happiness she felt that he was alive. Lydia didn't really understand it.
"I knew you liked me."
Lydia licked her lips and smiled. Maybe she did. It wasn't like with Stiles, when she kissed him she had feelings she never thought she'd get. With Aiden, he was fun, and he had baggage. But like she thought just hours ago, standing in that exact room, being with Stiles was a risk, being with Aiden wasn't. He was something familiar in a distant way. Not in a Stiles' -know everything about her and can see into her inner thoughts- but in a comfortable, already been there way. And that was okay for now. And Lydia decided that since he almost just died, she could let him think what he wanted.
After the whole ordeal Lydia went home to find her mom sitting on the couch was a bowl of popcorn and The Notebook playing.
"Finally." Mrs. Martin cooed.
"Your favorite movie is on."
Lydia threw her bag down and sank into the couch, her head resting on her moms shoulder.
"How was the project?" Mrs. Martin asked.
"I'm sure I'll get an A." Lydia answered, staring at the screen just in time to watch Allie and Noah kiss in the rain.
Allison, Stiles and Scott spend the next few days with their parents, for obvious reasons. Allison called her to come have lunch at her house, so she could hit on Mr. Argent and Lydia gladly took up that offer, even bringing over the Argent's favorite cookies.
She hasn't seen Stiles since that night at the Vet's office. He came in with a bad gash on his forehead, and Lydia was told through Scott that he had been in an accident. They hadn't spoken, and Lydia tried to believe it was for the best.
He hadn't been the same, they hadn't been the same. Lydia wondered if her frantic worrying at the office the night she helped drown her friends had an affect on things. Like he could sense that she was backing away. But what Lydia realized more, was that he was moving further from her.
Allison tried to comfort Lydia. Tell her that it was normal, that she felt that way too. But Allison was also spending a lot of alone time with Isaac so Lydia knew it was solely for her benefit.
They had all come back to school, and within a week, things started to feel normal. Well, as normal as things could feel in Beacon Hills. Lydia was done sneaking into janitor closets with Aiden and convinced him that they should go on a real date. Scott had warned all of them that something else might come to town sooner or later, that what him, Stiles and Allison did, selfishly opened their already overwhelming life's up to more danger. But Lydia didn't care, not right now at least.
Things were okay. Except for her and Stiles. She had barley seen him that day. Only that morning in English and he didn't even acknowledge her greeting. Lydia wouldn't say she was worried, not out loud, but she was. Aiden had walked over moments before and started talking about weekend plans. Lydia was barley listening.
And there he was, like he hadn't been avoiding her for the past week. He had an arm slung around Scott and the two were laughing without a word said. A ping of something, it might have been jealousy, or it might have been longing; crept into her heart. It made it physically impossible to move, although that was what Aiden was suggesting. Lydia stared at Stiles as he glided down the hall, the sun finally shinning -after what seemed like months- on his face. He looked happy, like that brutal smudge of darkness that Deaton threatened wasn't a thought, like he just survived the impossible. Like they all did.
So Lydia was happy for him, she knew it couldn't have been easy to seem normal, to act like he didn't know about werewolves and druids and banshees. It was obvious he was keeping his distance because of Aiden. Lydia had spent enough time with Stiles to know how he operated. He wasn't one to overstep, and a part of Lydia wished he would. He couldn't be happy about this. He should have spoken up. Not shut her out.
She stared up into Aiden's face. His eyes steady on her. She could like him eventually. It was a harsh reality. Spending the past few months having a physical relationship with him was different than what he wanted now. It mattered to Lydia. That he -by proxy- killed someone she could have gotten to know better. That them meeting wasn't a coincidence. It mattered because she thought she was past that. She wanted something more, something impossible.
She looked down, in what she assumed Aiden took as bashfulness. Lydia was never the shy type. Through the crack his body produced from her spot against the wall of lockers, she could still see Stiles making his way towards the edge of the hall. He had American History, and in moments he would walk up that set of stairs. He paused, clapped Scott on the back and waited for him to turn left. Lydia felt Aiden nuzzle her forehead, breathed in the sugary scent of her shampoo. Stiles was still standing there. He had his hands clasped tightly on his backpack strings, and like a scene from one of those cliche romantic dramas Lydia obsessed over, he turned to look back. He was looking at her. If he could see her gaze through the curtain of leather, Lydia couldn't tell. He looked away a moment later and charged the stairs.
Suddenly, Lydia felt incredibly alone. She pushed herself from the wall and startled Aiden. "Come on. You can walk me to AP Bio."
She secured her bag on her shoulder and started moving towards the opposite end of the hall. "I thought you took Physics?"
Lydia felt him grab her hand, lacing their fingers in a dominant way. "Physics is eighth period."
Aiden rose a brow, almost impressed. That would change. Lydia grinned in a challenging way. "Oh, there is so much you don't know about me."
She smiled because despite everything, it might be fun to actually get to know someone. With Jackson, it was all about status and looks. And she already knew everything there was to know about Stiles. When or if their time came, it would be effortless. Aiden had a lot to make up for, and Lydia was willing to cash in. She stopped, pretending to make sure she had everything she needed, and looked down the hall, where Stiles just was.
If her life was a romantic drama, it would be a paranormal blockbuster, and as Lydia pushed through the small yearning she felt, it was official. It was obvious that there would be a sequel.
To Be Continued...