A/N: I was browsing through all of my story files when I came across this piece of work I'd written down a long time ago. I'm not sure as to why I didn't post it but figured better late than never, right? The story is through Lydia's pov of the final scene in "Battlefield" and was written before the season finale. Personally, I love Lydia as a character and feel that there's definitely more layers to her than anyone gives her credit for. She can be so complex and simple at the same time.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
xx LCF
Lifeline
A fear she's sadly grown accustomed to washes over her the second the field lights shut off.
Screams of panic fill the chilly air as the crowd quickly tries to escape the bleachers. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Lydia can't help but scoff at the stupidity of people when put under pressure. It doesn't take long for that part of her to calculate just how far their chance of survival has dropped because of the crowd's overwhelming desire to get away. Not that she can blame them, considering this field is the very same one where Peter had bitten her—where it had all began.
A shiver crawls down her spine at the thought of him and his ever-lingering presence in the darkest recesses of her mind. She knows that there's no escape from his hold, especially now that he's returned and the thought settles in her stomach with an icy dread.
There's a few more seconds of hysteria, and a scream pierces the air. The sounds of panic double as people fall and trip over themselves in their desperation to get away from the unknown danger the darkness holds. And then, as quickly as it begins, it ends. The field lights go on, the people scattered are skittish, and the entire lacrosse team is huddled around someone.
She feels herself slowly approach their circle, and from the corner of her eye she sees Scott and his mother indulging in a serious conversation before hearing the commotion that the lacrosse team is now making. She watches the pair hurry over to the huddle, watches as his mother parts the crowd viciously before placing an ear over a heartbreakingly familiar silhouette. A completely different sort of fear washes over Lydia then, and before she can even think she's running towards them as quickly as her heels can take her and what she sees knocks the breath right out of her.
Jackson is unconscious in the middle, his prone form tense and pale at their feet. Mrs. McCall hovers over him immediately.
"He's not breathing, and there's no pulse." The nurse states grimly before jumping into action as she starts to do chest compressions.
The forever snarky part of Lydia Martin's cold and analytical mind wants to snap at the older woman and ask how her chest compressions could possibly be of help considering that he's wearing his pads, but instead she does nothing. She's frozen on the spot with nothing more than an unsure mumble of his name falling from her lips. After that it's not long before Mrs. McCall's attention snaps her way and soon she finds herself on the ground, holding up Jackson's head and opening his airway. The rest of the lacrosse team stand by and watch on helplessly, and the Sheriff is too caught up in his hysteria over Stiles' disappearance to pay anything any mind.
It's only hours later and she's home, after the chaos is over and they check Jackson into the hospital, does Lydia finally get a hold of her emotions. She opens the door to her patio and steps out into cool night, slowly walking through the back gate and out into the forest. She automatically knows where her body is taking her, she knows what she is about to do, but despite the fear and the anger and the uncertainty; Lydia Martin knows that she will do what she has to because she loves Jackson more than she's ever loved anything—including herself.
Peter Hale may be a devil in disguise, but she's more than willing to play the devil's advocate if it means that Jackson will be ok.