Face Your Fear, a teen wolf fanfic

I do not own Teen Wolf

Lydia had done the unthinkable...she had slept with Stiles. It wasn't that she didn't care for him...he was her friend, but she wasn't interested in him in that way. It's just that with everything he was going through, he had needed comfort and she had volunteered.

"What a mess," she thought.

She was still officially with Aiden. She hated to think what would happen if he ever found out. Not only would he be hurt, he would more than likely try to hurt Stiles.

Lydia reached down and ran her hands through Prada's fur.

"If he does find out I'll deal with it," she said, "It's not like I can't handle him...right Praeda."

She wished she felt as confident as she sounded.

"That's not really the problem is it, Lydia?" The thought came unwelcome and unbidden. She didn't want to think about it.

She had been spiraling out of control since Jackson left...one guy after another until Aiden, and now she had gone and slept with Stiles. Jackson had offered a safe haven for a while, but now, he was gone.

"Damn you Jackson," she swore. A part of her understood, it wasn't his fault his father wanted out of Beacon Hills after everything that had happened. She really couldn't blame him, but Lydia was desperate and a small part of her believed that if Jackson hadn't left, she wouldn't feel this way.

But no matter who she was with, what she was looking for continued to elude her. So she had gone from one guy to another until she had settled on Aiden...not that he was the one, but she was tired of looking. She pretended not to care. It was just another teen hook up...one of many. She had her friends...that was what really mattered not the emptiness in her heart that couldn't seem to be filled.

"Won't this roller coaster stop," she thought, "I want to get off."

The same thing over and over again and now this...she had cheated. It had never happened before...not really. There was that one time when she made out with Scott but that hadn't counted in her eyes. It was just a kiss. But this time...this time she had screwed up. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Why?" she asked herself, "Why?

Lydia slammed her fist into her pillow. Prada jerked up, ears alert, searching the bedroom, ready to take on their seemingly invisible attacker.

"Oh, Prada...why is my life such a mess?"

Prada whimpered and buried her muzzle in Lydia's side in an attempt to comfort her master.

Picking the pup up, Lydia held her close.

"Lydia! Are you still awake?

Her mother's voice drifted into her bedroom from downstairs.

"Turning in now, mom!"

Gathering Prada to her side, Lydia lay down and cried herself to sleep.

Lydia smiled brightly. Her heart was overwhelmed with the warmth of elated emotion. She was positively giddy.

The other students hurriedly passed her by as they raced to get to class, but Lydia lingered behind.

She was waiting...waiting for him. Would he notice her today? She was light-headed in anticipation.

When he approached his locker, Lydia moved closer but kept silent. She didn't want to make the first move.

He glanced her way, nodded and smiled and Lydia felt her heart in her throat. Her breathing sped up and for a moment she felt as though she were about to pass out.

"You all right," he asked, "You look a little pale."

She swallowed and nodded.

Finding courage she said, "I skipped breakfast this morning that's all."

He stared at her intently and Lydia leaned against the locker to maintain her balance.

There was a knowing in his eyes...he knew the effect he was having on her.

"Maybe we should take you to the school nurse," he offered.

"No...no...I'll be fine...it'll pass," she reassured him.

"You sure?" he asked.

Lydia smiled weakly.

"God, I look like a fool," she thought.

Lydia could feel the blush spreading across her cheeks.

"You look sweet when you blush."

He reached out and softly touched the side of her face.

Lydia felt her knees buckle and struggled to remain upright.

"I'm not blushing," she said defiantly.

"If you say so," he said, cautiously.

"What am I doing?" she thought, "I don't want to push him away."

"It just feels hot in here...that's all," she protested.

A look of amusement crossed his face and the light danced in his eyes.

"So your...overheated?" he asked.

Lydia looked confused as her mind searched for an answer that didn't make her sound more like an idiot than she already felt. Fueled by a need to redeem herself, she threw back her shoulders and straightened her back.

"I need to get back to class," she said.

With every bit of fortitude she could muster, she turned on her heels walked away.

"Lydia!" he called out from behind.

"He knows my name?" she thought, excitedly.

Turning, she looked him in the eyes unflinchingly.

He closed the distance and smiled again.

"Would you mind if I walked you to class?" he asked softly.

His eyes never left Lydia's and she felt herself drowning in his gaze.

She pressed her lips together in a thin line and nodded. Putting his arm around her, he walked her to class with Lydia smiling the entire way.

Turning, Lydia nuzzled closer to Prada. The dog resisted the urge to lick her on the nose...she didn't want to be scolded yet once again. Reaching out, Lydia drew the little pup in her arms and sighed deeply.

"I love you," she mumbled.

It didn't matter to Prada that the words were not meant for her or that her master was unaware that she said them. She accepted them happily and fell back to sleep as Lydia continued to dream.

She was standing on the sidewalk...an interloper in her own memory. Lydia watched as she and Allison talked in the car...before Lydia knew all their secrets...before she knew about the werewolves. The scene unfolded like a movie on the big screen.

It played out in slow motion with Allison seeming so desperate to make her to understand.

"Just for one second, please, try and remember," Allison pleaded.

"Remember what?" Lydia asked.

"Remember what it feels like. All of those times in school when you see him standing down the hall, and you cannot breathe until you're with him. Or those times in class when you you can't stop looking at the clock because you know that he's standing right out there waiting for you.
Don't you remember what that's like?" Allison asked.

"Like the Notebook," thought Lydia. How many times had she made Jackson watch that movie? She couldn't recall.

"No," she said flatly.

"What do you mean, "no"? You've had boyfriends," Allison replied.

"None like that."

Watching the scene unfold in her dreams, Lydia began to softly weep...a longing deep from within called out, but she refused to answer. Her tossing was beginning to disturb Prada. The dog scooted down into the covers, leaving her master to wrestle with her dreams.

That feeling was there...that lightheaded, lighthearted, giddy warmth that threatened to spirit her away. But for some reason she resisted and found herself on the Lacrosse field...running.

The wet earth reached up and nipped at her heels. Fervor carried her past the first two attempts, but the third was her downfall. She braced for the impact, but it never came. Opening her eyes, a wave of relief washed over her...she was in Jackson's arms.

"What are you running from Lydia?" he asked.

Confused, Lydia shook her head.

"I thought you were gone," she replied.

"I'm sorry, Lydia...I can't be here...not anymore."

Jackson turned away and faded from sight.

"Jackson!" she yelled.

Her eyes scanned the field...the stands...the entrance but all to no avail...Jackson had left her once again.

"There's no one to catch me if I fall," she thought.

She looked down at her shoes and took them off. She would not trip a second time.

Running down the length of the field, she began to pick up speed, nevertheless the end of the field was no closer. There seemed no escape. Without warning she was stopped dead in her tracks as she ran into another guy...one that seemed familiar.

Puzzled, she asked "Who are you?"

"You don't remember?"

He genuinely looked hurt.

"No...I'm sorry, I don't," she apologized.

"We went out a couple of times just before school started," he answered.

Lydia searched her mind and recalled the "date". Like many of the others, it had been one from which she had quickly moved on.

Before she could acknowledge the would be ex...he, like Jackson, faded from view.

Frantically, she once again searched the field. Surely, if she could not escape, then neither could Jackson. Perhaps he wasn't far. She continued to run and one after another she ran into a long list of her numerous "dates" and one after another they too faded from view leaving Lydia alone and searching.

"Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on!?" she yelled.

All was silent, but she could feel it. It returned as though she had summoned it...that warmth that made her light-headed.

"No," she whispered to herself and her feet began to fly.

"Lydia!"

The voice came suddenly and she knew it immediately...Aiden.

"Aiden!" she yelled as she threw her arms around him.

Her embrace was not returned. Did he know about her and Stiles? A lump formed in Lydia's throat. She needed him now more than ever.

Pulling back she looked into his face...his blank unresponsive face.

"I'm just a distraction, aren't I, Lydia?" he asked.

Lydia backed away shaking her head.

"No," she denied, but like all the others, he too faded away.

Panic was closing in. She spun around trying to decide which direction to run when she felt a ghostly hand on her shoulder. She froze..a scream rising in her throat.

"Lydia!"

The hand was gone and Lydia turned to see. In the distance she could see him waving.

"Stiles! Wait for me!" she cried, as began to run towards him.

"I can't...got to go...just stopped by to say hello," he replied.

With that Stiles turned and faded away like all the others.

Lydia could no longer be stifled...she began to scream.

In her dreams the scream would have woken the dead, but in her bedroom there was nothing but silence. She flipped over but even in sleep her mouth was drawn in a tight line. She would not...could not...scream. Prada roused from her comfy place underneath the covers and decided to risk it. He flicked out his tongue and licked Lydia's face. Unconsciously, Lydia reached out and pushed the little dog away.

"No, Prada," she mumbled but regardless, she did not wake.

Morell beckoned Lydia into her office. Reluctantly, Lydia followed.

"Do you know why you're here, Lydia?" asked Morell.

Lydia felt butterflies in her stomach. She didn't like counselors. Anytime her parents thought she had a problem it was off to a counselor. Sometimes she just wished they would deal with her themselves.

"Mid term exams...my class schedule...choice of colleges...there are lots of possibilities," Lydia said smugly.

Morrell sighed and looked down at some papers on her desk.

"This doesn't have to be unpleasant, Lydia."

Lydia breathed deeply and swallowed her pride.

"Fine, Why am I here?" she asked.

"I've been watching you, Lydia...you need to come clean with yourself," she replied.

Lydia leaned back in her chair offended and somewhat fearful. What did she mean...she had been watching her?

"My private life is my own!" she snapped.

Morrell folded her hands and leaned forward.

"Of course it is, Lydia but I can see that your in pain."

Lydia looked dumbfounded. She could feel the emptiness she so often ignored screaming out to her from within.

"Lydia, you need to deal with this," Morell continued.

"Deal with what?" Lydia asked angrily.

"You know Lydia...you know."

Lydia shook her head.

"No...No I don't."

Lydia turned to leave. She hadn't asked for anyones help, least of all Morrell's and the woman had no right to meddle in her personal life.

"What are you running from, Lydia?"

Lydia stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn't move.

"You can't keep running forever," Morrell continued.

"I'm not running from anything," Lydia replied.

Lydia struggled to keep her voice even...her whole body was shaking.

"Of course you are Lydia...Every guy you've gone out with is just...you running further and further away...you trying to escape the truth...using them to keep yourself distracted from what you're refusing to see...of what you're afraid to face."

Lydia could feel it from behind...that feeling again...that warmth...a part of her wanted to embrace it...the other part wanted to run. In the end she ran, leaving Morrell alone in her office. She could hear the counselor's final words as she fled down the hallway.

"Face your fear Lydia...face your fear"

Lydia's restless night was getting worse. Prada barely escaped an open palm against her muzzle. Fretfully, the little dog jumped down from the bed and went to lay on the rug...tonight would be safer on the floor. Clueless, Lydia continued to wrestle with her dreams.

"The lacrosse field was empty and Lydia stood alone as she had many nights before.

She wanted to scream but couldn't find her voice.

He was coming...she could hear the low growl under his breath as he approached.

Despite the empty seats she could hear the voices...she could hear the chants.

"Face your fear...face your fear!"

"Run, Lydia, run!" her mind screamed.

Where could she run? To whom could she run...Jackson, Aiden, Stiles? No one was there...it was just her.

"Face your fear...face your fear!" the chants got louder.

Lydia could feel his fevered breath on the back of her neck.

"Lydia," his voiced rumbled.

Tears began to fall down Lydia's cheeks.

It was time to face her fear.

Slowly Lydia turned to face the truth.

The tears came faster...not from fear but from relief.

She could finally admit it.

Allison's words returned to her.

"Yes," she whispered.

It had been Peter all along...the boy in the hallway had been the boy in her heart.

She didn't need to run anymore.

Embracing him, the emptiness in her heart was filled.