Hey, guys. So, this is my first Stydia fic that I've actually completed a chapter for. I'm planning for this one to be somewhere between five and ten chapters, but I'm not entirely sure just yet. But it is loosely inspired by the song and video Home by Gabrielle Aplin, which I definitely recommend everyone listen to. Anyways, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf

"I'm a phoenix in the water

A fish that's learned to fly

I've always been a daughter

But feathers are meant to fly"

- Home by Gabrielle Aplin

The cemetery was technically closed when Lydia arrived, but was easy enough to sneak into. It wasn't like anyone was actually stupid enough to voluntarily stay out and keep watch. No, not in Beacon Hills, where people dropped like flies. Lydia used the flashlight on her phone to guide her as she stepped towards between grave stones, searching. She could hear the dead whispering in her ear, calling out to her. She ignored them.

It was only four in the morning, far too early for anyone sane to be awake, let alone visit a cemetery. Which is what Lydia was counting on. Her eyes scanned the names carved into each headstone until they finally found it.

Allison Argent

Beloved Daughter

Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes

Lydia crouched in front of the grave, fresh tears building behind her eyes. She reached out to gently touch the cool stone, fingers trembling.

"I love you, Allison," she breathed. She rose to her feet and stood, staring down at the grave in contemplative silence. Just thinking about Allison, the beautiful, smiling young girl that she had loved so dearly. She would be twenty-four right now, if she were still alive.

Seven years. They seemed to just fly by as Lydia pushed her way through high school and college, doing her best to ignore her banshee powers. Living outside of Beacon Hills, away from her friends, sort of took away all of her motivation to keep learning and trying to understand them.

It was eight months after Allison's death that Lydia had moved. All because her mother had learned the truth about the supernatural dangers of Beacon Hills and wanted nothing to do with it. LA was nice, everything the Old Lydia would have loved. But it wasn't home, and had made for a difficult life. Especially without her friends.

Except that even after she had turned 18 and had the ability to move wherever she desired, Lydia never bothered coming back. Not even to visit Allison's grave. Not even to visit her friends. If asked, Lydia would just say that her life got ahead of her, and she just didn't have time. But deep down she knew that her real reasoning was far more complex and pathetic.

Even if it had been hard, the past few years had been safe and free of supernatural intervention. Even her powers had been all but entirely non-existent. And as much as Lydia missed her friends, part of her had grown far too comfortable in the normalcy that had been returned to life.

Sighing to herself, Lydia shook her head and turned away. She'd been here long enough. She had to get home.

Lydia had parked her car a fair distance away, outside of a small little book shop where she was least likely to run into anyone she knew. It was unlikely that anyone would actually be out at this hour, but she still wanted to be safe.

Unfortunately, the parking lot was not as empty as Lydia had left it thirty minutes beforehand. Three dark figures were huddled by the entrance to the bookshop, the dull glow of their cigarettes illuminating their faces. Lydia didn't recognize any of them, so she kept her head down, focusing instead on her cell phone.

I'll be home by tonight. Don't bother waiting up. I'll call you when I'm in the city.

Just as she pressed the send button, the sounds of mocking laughter reached her ears, a little too close for comfort. Lydia glanced up despite herself, frowning. The three men had put out their cigarettes and were walking towards her. Lydia tensed and looked back down as she walked, her other hand securing the strap of her purse on her shoulder.

The laughter fell silent suddenly, the only sound the click of her heels on the asphalt. Lydia prayed that they would continue on past her, that they weren't potential rapists or something creepy and supernatural. Her car was only a few feet away now, but the strangers had stopped right between her and the cherry red Honda. Lydia came to a halt, mustering the courage to look them right in the eyes.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a calm, indifferent tone. Don't let them see any fear. Don't even be afraid. You are Lydia Martin.

One of the guys, the tallest of the three, leered at her.

"Just wonderin' that a pretty little thing like you is doin' out on her own at this time of night?" he said. His voice was low and gravelly, and it sent chills up her spine. Lydia folded her arms over her chest, keeping her phone in her fist.

"That's none of your business," Lydia replied curtly, arching a single brow. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get to my car and leave."

The shortest man sniggered. "Aw, where you goin'? I was just thinkin' maybe we could have a little fun." Before Lydia could even react, they were converging around her. One gripped onto the handle of her purse, yanking it forcefully away from her. The motion sent her phone flying from her fist, and Lydia could hear it clatter on the asphalt. Another man grabbed ahold of Lydia's shoulders, spinning and pushing her up against her car. He pressed himself up against her, burying his face into her curly red locks.

Lydia let out a cry of protest, struggling against his hold. Somewhere behind him, Lydia could hear the other two men digging through her purse, but that seemed no where near as important as the hardened organ pressing against her hip through the man's jeans.

He inhaled deeply, the heat of his breath causing goosebumps to erupt across Lydia's flesh. The stench of smoke and body odor was suffocating and she had to turn her face away.

"Damn, girl, you do smell good," the man growled.

"Let me go!" Lydia whimpered, pressing her palms weakly against his chest. He was a tall, wide man, however. Even in heels, she barely reached his chest. His strength was too much for even her unwavering determination to get free.

"What'chu cryin' 'bout? Don't you act like you ain't used to this, girly. Walkin' around all alone at night, wearin' a skirt like this? Nah, you're just askin' to be picked up by a fella like me. Bet you're feelin' just as excited as I am."

"Damn, Sullivan, hurry the fuck up!" one of the men cried. "Just fuck the bitch and get it over with. I'm hungry!"

Terror bubbled in Lydia's chest, clawing its way up her throat. She could feel the scream building, and the tried to press it down. Over the jeers of her attackers, Lydia could hear a heavy, fast pounding. Like a drum. It grew louder as the urge to scream increased. She felt the man's large hands begin to roughly grope up and down her form, grabbing at her through her clothing.

A shrill whistle escaped between Lydia's clenched teeth, and she quickly clamped her lips together to suppress the sound. It was an instinct, to hold back. Nothing good ever came from Lydia's screams, and the last thing she needed was more trouble. No, she needed to focus on getting away.

She squirmed, trying to free her pinned leg. A warm, sweaty hand slid its way up Lydia's shirt, grazing her stomach, and the drumming was deafening. God, what was that? She had to get away. There was no way in hell Lydia was going to become a victim again, especially to creeps like this.

Tears pooled in her eyes and her throat began to burn until finally, it was too much. Opening her mouth, Lydia let out a blood curdling shriek. The man jumped away at the unearthly sound, releasing her. The scream died out, and Lydia quickly took advantage of her freedom by kneeing the man hard between the legs.

The man fell to his knees with a groan, and his friends quickly rushed to his aid. Lydia collapsed against the car, feeling suddenly fatigued.

"The hell was that?" one of the man shouted as he pulled his friend to his feet. The other lunged forward, shoving Lydia away from the car. With a cry, Lydia fell onto the asphalt, catching herself on her knees and hands. Head spinning, it took her a moment to realize that the men had actually climbed into her car and were starting the engine.

"No!" Lydia struggled to her feet just as the driver backed up and began turning away. "Stop! Please!" But it was too late. A window rolled down.

"Thanks for the ride, sweetheart!" a voice called out as the car drove away.

As Lydia watched her car vanish around the corner, a depressing silence settled over her. She had been alone before, but now she was alone and without a ride. Not to mention she was still shaking from her attack. Gathering her bearings, Lydia looked down at the ground, searching for her phone. Eventually, she did find into, shattered beyond repair.

"Shit." Okay, so she was stranded, and she couldn't even call anyone for help. Fantastic.

The sun was now stretching its rays across the sky, and Lydia was beginning to wonder if heels were really as great as she usually believed them to be. Because God, did her feet hurt. She'd been walking for nearly half an hour, trying desperately to remember where any of her friends were living after her six years of absence. She really didn't want to have to face them, especially after all of her efforts to avoid them while visiting Allison's grave. But it was that or hitchhike to LA. And Lydia really wasn't in the mood to deal with anymore potential rapists.

Finally, without any clue as to where else she could go, Lydia found herself standing outside of the Sheriff station. Perhaps she could just talk to the Sheriff, call her mom, and avoid her friends entirely.

Lydia was just about to head inside when a cruiser skidded into the parking lot and came to a halt just a few feet away. Lydia paused, trying to see if she might recognize the deputy inside.

A familiar mess of brown hair emerged from the driver's side, large brown eyes staring at her in disbelief.

"Lydia? Are you alright?" Despite now wearing a police uniform and being six years older didn't make Stiles any less recognizable, especially with that same damn expression of bewildered concern as he rushed towards her. Suddenly Lydia was seventeen again, terrified after stumbling across a fresh body.

"Stiles," she breathed. "What are you doing here?" Because apparently that was the best thing she could think of to say. Why would a deputy be at the police station?

The passenger door opened, and a man that could only be Scott McCall emerged. Unlike Stiles, he was dressed rather normally, in jeans and a t-shirt. But he didn't look any less concerned.

"What am I doing h- Lydia, what are you doing here? What happened? Why did you scream?" Stiles demanded, stopping just a foot away from her. He reached towards her, and Lydia flinched involuntarily. Seeing her reaction, Stiles quickly backed away.

Lydia looked between the two boys- no, God, they were men now-, and licked her lips nervously.

"I was- I'm fine. I'm not hurt. I just panicked. I was just visiting- And then they just- I'm alright, I took care of it. They didn't- I didn't-"

There wasn't enough air, and Lydia took several deep breaths through her nose. She was aware of Scott and Stiles staring at her, probably both thinking that she'd officially lost it.

"Lydia," Scott said. Wow, his voice was deep. Had it always been that deep? And how did he always manage to sound so kind and sweet, even with just a single word? To this day, Lydia had never met anyone as good and kind-hearted as Scott McCall. "What happened?"

Lydia wrapped her arms tightly around herself. "I was mugged," she answered. "And they stole my car. The scream was just a reflex, I guess. It's been a while since I really been in any sort of danger, and I just acted on instinct. I didn't mean to worry you guys."

Stiles looked for a moment like he was going to explode, his face turning a strange shade of red. "Where did they go? Where are they?"

Lydia wanted to roll her eyes, but she couldn't quite manage it.

"I don't know. They just- they just took off." She shrugged, looking down. "I just wanted to report a stolen vehicle and call my mom. I just need a ride home."

Stiles took a cautious step forward, and when Lydia didn't react, he moved closer, gently touching her shoulder.

"Alright, how about you come inside? It's freezing out here, and you look exhausted." Lydia nodded, realizing that he was right. She was freezing. And her body felt like it was made of lead. She allowed him and Scott to guide her inside.

"And so I'm wishing, wishing further

For the excitement to arrive

It's just I'd rather be causing the chaos

Than laying at the sharp end of this knife"

- Home by Gabrielle Aplin

So, there it is! I hope you guys enjoyed! The next chapter will be up soon. Don't forget to review!