Lydia's eyes snapped open, just as she watched his figure crawl through her bedroom window. She felt her heart pound so hard she was positive he would be able to hear it. She wanted to scream in fear, wanted to cry out for him to stay away from her. She wanted to jump out of her skin and run as fast as she could, out of her room and away from her home, away from Beacon Hills and all of the devastation it caused, away from Allison's body currently laying in a morgue, away from everything that hurt. But she didn't.
She watched in horror as he leisurely rose, a dark figure, a wolf in sheep's clothing. He sauntered to her bed painstakingly slow, and she felt his weight dip down the edge of the mattress.
"Do you always break into people's homes at three in the morning?" she whispered, willing her voice not to falter.
"Only the ones that matter." he smirked, face half-cast in shadow. "Babe, don't cry."
She hadn't realized she was. He moved a hand toward her face, pausing in midair as she recoiled away from his touch.
"What do you want." Lydia hissed, steel coating her words. She would be brave. She wouldn't allow him to intimidate her. She needed to be strong, for Stiles.
"Such a brave banshee. You and I, we're cut from the same supernatural cloth, you know." he tilted his head and smiled, eyes dead. She turned her head away from him, breath hitching in her chest, body starting to tremble.
"You and I are nothing alike."
He snickered and reached forward again, taking a piece of Lydia's hair and curling it around his finger.
"You know what I'm talking about. Banshees are dark supernatural creatures, people fear them because they do not understand them. I know you've seen the statistics. I know you feel your mind slowly slipping away." he smiled, moving closer to her. "It's a shame. You have such a beautiful, brilliant mind. And your mind is your own for now...until the voices take over. Then it's only a matter of time till you're just like Meredith, howling away in Eichen for the rest of your life. What a waste. I give you five years."
She slapped his hand away from her hair, momentary fury boiling over fear.
"Fuck you." she spat, quivering with anger. His smile vanished as his eyes sparked with malice. His gaze drifted down to her lips, and she watched as it licked his own.
"Oh I want to." he replied.
"I can't wait to watch Stiles defeat you. I can't wait to see him outsmart you, and I can't wait for Scott to tear you limb from limb."
"Honey, don't be like that." he pouted, sticking out his lower lip.
"Why are you here. What do you want from me?" Lydia seethed, pulling the comforter up to her chest, suddenly freezing in her silk nightgown.
She watched as he stood up, and began to pace her room. It never failed to shock her, how different its body movement was from Stiles. It was sleek, sinister, devoid of humor or life. There was power behind its stride.
"To put it simply," he spoke, "I want you."
Lydia felt her blood run cold. What did he mean by that? Whatever it was, it wasn't good. She needed to protect herself. Desperately, she wished for pepper spray or, she almost laughed at the irony, a baseball bat.
If she distracted the Nogitsune, she could make a break for it. But it was fast, and strong. She would never be able to outrun it fast enough to get to her car. Her mother was away again, leaving Lydia alone in the home. If she screamed, maybe a neighbor would hear, maybe Scott. But again, no one would be fast enough to come and rescue her. Lydia Martin would have to rescue herself.
"Stiles." she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. She wondered if it was possible to die from nerves. She was shaking so hard she could practically feel the bed quake beneath her. There must be someway she could get to him. Some way she could reach out, and maybe Stiles would reach back.
"Stiles, don't let him do this to me."
"Aw Lyds, come on now. What do you think I'm going to do?" he crooned from a shadowy corner. "I won't hurt you. I just want you to listen to my proposal."
Lydia exhaled a shaky breath. She knew better than to trust the trickster, but maybe it was being truthful when it said it wouldn't hurt her. Well, at least maybe not physically.
'Don't let your guard down, Lydia' her conscious whispered, and she steeled herself for what was to come.
"Like I said before, you and I are the same. Just as you and Stiles are one. This means we have an understanding. A common ground."
"We are nothing alike."
He began to walk back to her, strut back to her. But this time, instead of sitting on the edge of her bed, he crawled over her body, on top of the blankets. Holding himself over her, hovering above.
"Can you look at me and tell me that you don't feel alone? Misunderstood? Can you tell me that there is anyone in this damn town on your level? No. You can't. Because you're better than everyone in this place. And there is a darkness inside you." he paused to lower his torso, and she felt the weight of his body push down onto her own. He placed his forearms on either side of her head, and looked down at her, tilting his head.
"Why do you think you're drawn to these shady characters, like Jackson, the kanima? Or Aiden, the alpha from a rival pack? It's because there is darkness in them that matches your own. You've been in love with Stiles since you first kissed him. So why aren't you with him? You've always rejected Stiles because he's too good for you." he breathed, playing with her hair.
She felt the sting of his words like a slap across the face. It was true. Lydia felt the darkness creep in, ever since her first fugue state. It was like having half a soul. She tried so hard to understand herself, to forgive herself. But she couldn't. She couldn't find it within herself to practice that kind of self love and acceptance. She knew it, and the Nogitsune knew it too.
Lydia turned her face to look into the eyes of the creature above her. His gaze was burning a hole into her own. It was like he wanted her to agree with him. Wanted her to admit a dark confession.
"Are you saying that I'm drawn to you? Are you saying I want to be with you? Because that couldn't be further from the truth. I am in love with Stiles. I am!" she confessed, voice shaking with emotion.
"Stiles, I'm in love with you. I just want you safe."
He watched her confession with a look she couldn't quite read. And then, as if in slow motion, he bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. They were soft and warm, and felt just like they had when she first kissed him when she tried to stop his panic attack. It was surprising to her how tenderly he kissed her, and even more surprising to her that she was reciprocating. She moved beneath him, and he finally put his full weight on top of her. She sucked in a breath, reveling in the delicious feeling of his body on hers. She kept her eyes closed, trying to imagine Stiles whole and healthy, wanting the moment to be suspended in time forever. He nibbled her bottom lip and she opened her mouth to him, letting the velvet of his tongue trace her plump lips, and dance with her own. The kiss was soft and scorching, and when she finally found the strength to pull away from him, she knew it was a promise of more to come.
"You're such a bad girl, Lydia. Look at you." he crooned, dipping down again to give her lips a final peck.
"Stop." she breathed, turning her head away once more as tears spilled out and rolled down her flushed cheeks. She hated crying in front of this...thing. She hated feeling weak.
"Look at me." he said, gently grabbing her face with his hand and turning it back to his.
"You and I both know it won't be long until Scott and his pack find me. Originally, that was my plan all along, but plans change."
Lydia's brow furrowed as she digested his words. "What do you mean?"
"Stiles is more powerful than I was initially expecting. Even I would be a fool to not acknowledge that. He's always screaming so loud inside, you see." he smirked, and Lydia's common sense roared back to life, as she struggled to push him off her, repulsed.
"You struggling is such a turn on." he laughed ruthlessly, easily pinning her arms above her head.
"Stiles, please!" Lydia cried, openly sobbing. She was so tired. So, so tired of it all. Of looking over her shoulder every five minutes. Of the relentless voices in her head. Of feeling scared of her own shadow, and jumping at loud noises. She was always so, so scared. She missed the days when all she had to worry about was controlling her popularity. She missed the talks she had with Stiles on his bed, as they bounced ideas off each other. She missed him so deeply it felt like a permanent hole in the center of her chest, that nothing could fill. Not Jackson, not Aiden, not even herself.
"'Stiles, please.'" he mocked. "He says please a lot too, you know. Please don't touch her. Please hurt me instead. Leave her alone, please, please, please. I'm so sick of hearing his begging. He's always begging. Always screaming, like you wouldn't believe."
There was a sharp crack, and it took both Lydia and the Nogitsune to register what just happened. She had slapped him across the face.
She had done it now. The demon stared at her with an almost furious fascination. A watch-and watch-and watch some more curiosity. Lip licking and throat humming. Almost a reverence. Something about it was deeply unsettling, and it made Lydia wish she hadn't struck him in the first place.
"Come with me." he breathed.
"What?!" Lydia replied, shocked.
"Come with me." he repeated again. "I've told you, the plan has changed."
"You're insane!" Lydia cried out, trying fruitlessly to wiggle free again. "What the hell are you even talking about?!"
"You're not listening carefully enough, Lydia." he sneered. "You know that I can't be killed, even if the vessel I inhabit is destroyed. They'll kill Stiles trying to kill me. You know it."
She did know it, and it had plagued her every thought.
"That's why I'm giving you this one chance, just once, to come with me, away from Beacon Hills."
"And do what? And go where?! What incentive is there for me to mindlessly follow you to hell and back?!" she snapped, glaring at him through puffy, bloodshot eyes.
"I will not tell you the where, or the what. But your incentive is Stiles. If you come away with me, you will be protecting Stiles from harm."
"Or prolonging his torture!" she growled.
"Perhaps. Or...it could allow you a chance to get through to him." he smirked, sickenly sweet.
"I...I don't understand."
"If you come, you will be closer to reaching Stiles than any of you have been in months. He will be kept safe. And you could use that time to come up with a treatment in that big brain of yours."
Lydia took in his words, head pounding in confusion. The Nogitsune wanted to run away, and take her along. Why on earth would it want her to have a chance at saving Stiles?
'It doesn't,' her mind thought, whirring furiously as countless scenarios invaded her brain. But it was right. She would be closer to Stiles, and even if it meant turning her back on the pack's plans for 'rescuing' Stiles, it also meant Stiles' preservation. And wasn't that the greater good? But just yesterday, it had killed Allison. It wiped out hundreds of people from the Beacon Hills population. If she went with the Nogitsune, it meant danger. It meant never having to let her guard down, never knowing what sinister plan she would ultimately play a part in. But it also meant having a chance. A chance to reach safely reach Stiles without physical harm. And maybe, even a chance to destroy it.
"If I say yes, I want a promise from you." she whispered, eyes burning into his own.
"What is it, baby?"
"I want no harm to come to myself, and I want no harm to come to my pack. And, I want to see Stiles. I want you to let him surface, once a week for an hour, just so I can see he's still safe and in there."
The Nogitsune tilted his head to the side, considering her proposition. Lydia Martin was a very interesting person. Very interesting. And this little adventure would be a very interesting journey. A very interesting journey indeed.
"No harm to you or your pack. And Stiles comes out to play once a week." he grinned, eyes dull in the moonlight.
"How can I trust your word?"
"I'm a trickster, not a liar." he said bringing his hand up to his chest, feigning offense.
Stiles would hate her if she went with him. Stiles was probably screaming at her not to do it, but she loved him too much to just let him slip away.
"I'm sorry, Stiles. I have to do this." she said, staring into the blank eyes of a stranger wearing the skin of someone she loved.
She watched as a wicked smile curled at the corner of it's mouth.
"Shall we then?" it moved off of her, offering her his hand.
Every nerve in Lydia's body vibrated, willing her not to take it's hand. Not to trust the Nogitsune. It will only lead to heartache! it will lead to immeasurable devastation!
'It will lead to Stiles.' she exhaled, and watched her hand tremble in the moonlight, as if attached to a body that wasn't quite her own.
For a moment they paused, both looking at their entwined hands before finally raising their gaze. They looked at each other in the dark room, standing still with hands held, before vanishing into the night.