An empty room,
I'm empty too
And everything reminds me of you
So many things
I shouldn't have missed
The more that I push
And the more you resist
It's easy to say it's for the best
When you want more
While you leave me with less

I know you're fine, but what do I do?
I know you're fine, but what do I do?

I'm awake, and trying
While you're sleeping like a babe
Beside him
I'm on the ledge while you're so
God damn polite and composed
And I know you see me,
And you're making it look so easy
What comes and goes,
I'd go without

I know you're fine but what about Fallout
You're the fallout

The room seemed empty. It wasn't that there was nothing in the room, there's a bookshelf and desk both messy with books and papers, a bed topped with a messy quilt and a boy feels just as empty as the room.

Stiles hadn't always felt that way, in fact until a month ago he'd been the polar opposite of his current mood. He had a kindling relationship with a beautiful girl, a dozen friends and a constantly beaming smile.

Now, Stiles barely remembers the last time he genuinely smiled, though he's sure it was when he was last with her. He knows it's his fault they've split, he should have seen the signs, he should have known that if he continued to push she would run. He'd just been so sure she wanted him too, she certainly never denied it before.

She'd been adamant that it was for the best, she had said it so certainly but he couldn't help but see the regret and pain in her eyes as she fought tears. Friends? She had asked and there was never a time when he could say no to her, no matter how much it hurt it.

It was the next day he learned why she'd dropped him like an overused toy.

Jackson Whittemore.

In not even twenty four hours she was back in his arms, back in his bed, back to him boasting her 'epic' skills in an attempt to rile Stiles up. It was the only time Stiles had leapt into a fight with a werewolf and won. And even that ultimately just made Lydia ignore him even more than she was already ignoring him.

So now, Stiles sat on his bed, just under a month since his fight with Jackson. He knew that Lydia was past him now, she barely spared him a glance anymore and it reminded him of sophomore year. He didn't know what to do, not while he knew she was with him in his bed.

He didn't blame her, Jackson was her high school love. She probably loved him the way he loved her. It was easy to see that he was just a distraction, someone to ease the pain while she healed. He was glad that she was happy; she had the person she wanted, she was coming to own her banshee power and accept it and she was carefree.

It was the first time he saw her smiling freely and openly joking since before Peter bit her. It reminded him that all of the pain in her life was because of him, of his attachment to her. But without her he was lost. What was Stiles Stilinski without Lydia Martin in his life, sure he had her friendship, but now that he'd had more it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough.

It just brought Stiles down a train of thought he liked to avoid; the past two years of his life. Everything from finding Laura in the woods to the Deadpool. Stiles wished beyond anything else he could go back and stay in that night. Avoid the woods at all costs and let some other schmuck and his puppy-dog friend's lives get turned into a shit storm by the bite.

But no, now he faced a new torrent of nightmares. His usual night terrors of the days after his mother and his father's drunken episodes, new levels of horror left as a keepsake from Void. Stiles thought they were his memories, he just knew that with each dream he could feel the weapon in his hand, he could hear the screams and smell the blood with each massacre.

He started counting his fingers again.

It only got worse after Lydia left and Stiles knew that he should tell her that. He should tell her that the only times he's sure he's real is when he's with her. Stiles picked up his phone and pulled up her contact on his phone.

Was he really going to call her?

What if she answered? He'd wing it.

He tapped the call button and sat up cross legged on his phone as he stared at the time and saw a blaring red, twelve-forty-five.

RING

She might be up, he knew she was prone to insomnia when she got too stressed out.

RING

The question was, did he want her to be up.

RING

A part of him certainly did, but maybe it was best if he just hung up and ignored it.

"Hi, you've reached Lydia Martin's cell, please leave a message with your name and phone number and I'll get back to you."

'Whew, dodged a bullet.' Stiles thought as he laid his phone on his end table and laid down to sleep intent on not making a similar mistake again that night. It wasn't by accident that Stiles missed Lydia's phone call at twelve-fifty-two. Stiles knew that she was with him, he knew she would be in his bed and she was only calling because it could be supernatural related.

It made him question her rationale, something he'd done about a lot recently.

He questioned how she could come to him crying and begging for comfort in the dead of night, slowly work her way into his heart, into his bed, and just disappear into the night for her ex-boyfriend. An ex-boyfriend that had done basically the same thing to her.

She had manipulated his feelings for her against him into forming a twisted semi-romantic relationship. He thought she was coming to love him, he thought that he was finally winning over his dream girl. But then the day came, she dropped him as if his very name burned her image. She slowly receded into that shallow, dumb Queen Bee she'd been before Allison. It made sense she could never love him, he'd killed her best friend and her most recent boyfriend. His possession was no excuse, he should have fought harder, been something beyond human. He'd been the one to let the Nogitsune in.

Now Lydia insisted on acting casually with him amongst their peers. As if she hadn't taken his heart, spent months in his bed whispering affectionate words in his ear beyond ripping his heart out and leaving his bed in a cloud of dust.

Now, in the fallout, Stiles wasn't sure he would survive without her.

"You called me last night." He heard her behind his locker and groaned as he leaned his forehead against his locker door. He really didn't want to face her right now. He wanted to get through the day, go home and sleep.

"Yeah, I pressed the wrong buttons." Stiles brushed it off casually as he reached into his locker for his history binder and slammed his locker shut abruptly, startling her. "Sorry." He wasn't.

"I called you back." Lydia said expectantly, like she deserved his answer. She deserved jack shit from him.

"I had nothing to say to you." Stiles shrugged, walking off toward his history class without another word. Groaning again as he heard her heels clack behind him as she stormed after him in an attempt to catch up.

"Maybe I've got something to say to you." Lydia said suggestively when she finally stopped Stiles in the middle of the history hall way.

"Oh, and what's that? Jackson broke up with you and I'm your boy-toy again?" Stiles bit harshly making Lydia flinch in pain. He wanted to feel bad for hurting her feelings but she had used and abused him to the point where she deserved a little pain.

"That what you-? Look I gotta go, I just wanted to invite you to the Lacrosse Practice after party at my house tonight." She said in a hush of confusion and irritation as the warning bell rang. "We'll talk later." It wasn't a suggestion or a brush off, her tone of voice, the look on her face when she said it, it was a fact.

Stiles and Lydia both knew he wasn't going to that party.

So that night, at nine-forty Stiles was laid out on his bed while Scott and Jackson, who were now close-buddies were out celebrating the team's skill. He'd taken to reading books and playing video games, it was easy to lose himself in these things and forget he had no friends.

His dad was working a night shift, going shortly after dinner and back sometime after dawn. Stiles was alone and at peace in the solitude of his near-pitch black bedroom, lit only by one lamp in room's corner.

He was lost in his game, Star Wars for the playstation could get fairly intense. He didn't hear the front door, now did he hear the steps creak. He simply lounged on his bed facing his tv as he played, a position he frequented while playing with Lydia cuddled into his arms.

"Is now a bad time to talk?" Her voice startled him out of his gaming zone and set him on edge. Lydia watched silently as the peaceful, relaxing Stiles she'd been quietly adoring set on guard. She frowned as his brow narrowed, his lips purse and his eyes grew distant and cold. It burned Lydia to know that she had hurt Stiles so much that she deserved his most distant, spiteful glare.

"Yes, now's a bad time." Stiles growled as he stood from the foot of his bed, "You aren't allowed to let yourself in here anymore." Stiles voice was filled with venom. Venom fueled by pain and anger. "You think you can do that? Huh? You think it's okay to just ruin me and walk away?"

"Stiles, just listen to me, please give me a chance." Lydia stepped toward Stiles who took a wide step back avoiding her touch like the plague. "Please." Her voice cracked as tears welled in her eyes.

"I gave you a chance Lydia." Stiles paused, his words oddly calm, "I let you in, one hundred percent. I was prepared to give you everything. I loved you Lydia. And then he came back and you just ran to him, you didn't even care about me anymore." Stiles own tears fell as his thoughts rolled back to the days before Lydia's disappearance, when he was working himself up to tell her he loved her. They'd spent everyday together, they just cuddled and hung out. They did everything and nothing together. It was the greatest time in Stiles life, but he wasn't sure he could go back.

"I know you did and I know that I ruined that. I know that I hurt you Stiles and I'm sorry. I want more than anything to go back, I want to kiss you and never stop kissing you Stiles. I should have told you that I wanted you too but I was scared, I was scared that I didn't feel for you what you feel for me." Lydia paused as she took a step forward, gaining some confidence as Stiles' cold, distant glare fell off his face.

"I know you loved me Stiles, and that's terrifying. You've literally risked your life for me time and time again. I never felt safer or happier than when I was with you and I doubted that I could give you that Stiles." Lydia paused and licked her lips as she finally stepped in front of Stiles, stepping so close that she had to look up to meet his beautiful whisky eyes.

"So yeah, when Jackson came back he called me for a booty call and I ran back to him. I wanted to know if I still felt anything for him and the whole time my heart ached for you. All I wanted was for him to be you, beyond anything else. I love you Stiles. Give me one more chance and I promise I'm yours, one-hundred percent." Lydia pleaded as she met Stiles stare, standing chest to chest at the foot of his bed.

Lydia wanted nothing more than to meet her lips with his and fall back into his bed, she wanted to go back to the days they spent curled up on the bed reading, gaming and enjoying each other's presences.

Stiles found Lydia's eyes enchanting, and as she pleaded with him he read her emotions like a book as her regret and sorrow seeped from her every pore and her beautiful blue eyes radiated a type of love he'd only ever imagined or hope to see in the past.

Stiles couldn't control himself as he crashed his lips to hers in a desperate grapple for some resemblance of peace and reconciliation. He just couldn't control himself as he pulled them back onto the bed and let her take control of the action as she was so often prone to in the escapades. He didn't know if Lydia was going leave again, and in that moment he didn't care. He finally had something he didn't have before.

Closure.

She loved him too, even if it was only for a fleeting moment, Lydia Martin loved Stiles Stilinski and that's all that he really cared about.