Author's Note: Teen Wolf season six looks amazing and while I'm sad the show is ending, I'm excited to see what is in store for our pack! That being said, this is Stydia speculation for season six. Spoilers for the season six reveal trailer. Please enjoy!

"Oh I'm watch, watch, watching people pass

I'm waving through a window

Can anybody see?

Is anybody waving back at me?"

—Ben Platt, "Waving Through a Window"

Don't forget me.

Lydia Martin opens her eyes, his name on the tip of her tongue, but fading into the recesses of her mind. Her eyes sting—she's been crying again—and as she pushes the blankets off of herself, she lets her feet touch the floor beneath her. It's always the same dream, the same voice calling out to her in the dark, don't forget me, don't forget me—

Don't forget me.

"I won't." She whispers into the cool air, but the truth is, she can't really remember the face that this voice belongs to. She wants to though—she desperately needs to put the pieces of this puzzle together and figure it out—but no matter what she does, she can't seem to remember.

Whoever the voice is, he needs her. That much is clear. He is out there somewhere and he needs her.

And somehow, someway, she will find him.

Her head has a perpetual ache now. Ever since the voice started disrupting her sleep, she can't seem to get her mind to settle. She spends her days at school listless, trying to get herself to engage in her normal life only for the voice to haunt her.

Don't forget me.

"Lydia?" Scott regards her with a tilt of his head, his eyes boring into hers and she forces a tight smile on her lips. It's been three weeks since they handled their latest life and death crisis—she doesn't want to worry the alpha unnecessarily.

Especially with him and Kira breaking up. Truth be told, Lydia really misses the kitsune but when Kira's dad was offered such a great teaching job across the country and in a safer neighborhood, it just made sense for them to go. Lydia will have to call her soon and catch up.

"Lydia." Scott tries again.

Lydia shakes her head, "It's nothing, Scott."

It amazes her how close she and Scott have become. Really, when they first started high school, she'd considered Scott a loser and not worth her time. He'd been such a dork and couldn't even play lacrosse well. He and his friend . . . what was his name? The one that would follow her around? His name is on the tip of her tongue, the memories there, blurry, but there—

Stiles.

She doubles over, trying to catch her breath as her brain feels like it is literally on fire. She can see him now—Stiles, in his lacrosse gear on the field and she, smiling at him and cheering him on. Stiles at the hospital, comforting her and Stiles, clutching her, saying If you die I'll go out of my freaking mind—and God, how could she have forgotten him? He is everything to her and she forgot—

"Lydia, breathe!" Scott shouts, trying to help her sit upright, but as the fire leaves her mind, she grips the alpha's hand within her own. "Lydia, what—?"

"Stiles." She gasps, her heart pounding within her chest.

"Stiles?" Scott repeats, brow furrowing. "What are you talking about?"

"Remember!" She shouts, her voice hoarse and breathless, "You have to remember him, Scott—"

"Lydia, relax, okay? I think you might've hit your head—"

Tear burn at the edges of her eyes. How can she make him remember? She needs him to remember!

"Stiles is your best friend! Scott, you know him!"

There's a flash in Scott's eyes and soon, he's clutching his head, panting as some memory returns to him.

"Scott?" The alpha stands and takes a few steadying breaths. "You remember?"

"Yeah." Meeting Lydia's gaze, he states, "We'll get him back, Lydia. We will."

Don't forget me.

"I know." She grins.

I'm coming Stiles, I promise.

Let the hunt begin.

Within a week, she and Scott have recovered all their lost memories. What might be more infuriating is trying to get the rest of their pack (and Stiles' dad) to remember. It's like talking to a brick wall—all the information goes over their friends' heads and even Malia can't seem to recall anything about Stiles. Malia, who is supposedly in love with Stiles, and he obviously loves her.

Which leaves an unanswered question swirling around in Lydia's mind—if Malia, Stiles' girlfriend, can't remember him, then why can Lydia? Scott remembering Stiles, that's something Lydia can understand—the two are as thick as thieves—but Lydia? Why would she remember?

Anchors.

She wonders if being his anchor has anything to do with it. Their connection has always been strong and as the years passed it had only grown deeper. Could being Stiles' anchor have something to do with it? Could their bond be strong enough to cut through this?

"Anything?" Scott questions when he comes to stand by her table in the library. It had been his idea to start hunting for whatever creature took Stiles. Finding it would surely lead to finding Stiles.

"There are a lot of possibilities," She mutters, "Memory loss and being taken are really common in terms of supernatural phenomenon."

Scott sighs softly, "Great."

"Any luck with his dad?" Having the sheriff on their side would really help cut through some of the red tape they were encountering. It's really hard to launch a missing persons investigation when law enforcement doesn't believe that person exists.

"I thought I almost broke through," Scott shrugs, "But he still doesn't believe me."

Lydia grimaces, running a hand through her hair, "We have to keep trying."

"We will." Scott assures her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "We'll bring him back. I promise."

That's the great thing about Scott—his sincerity. When he promises something, you know it will get done. That's why he makes such a great leader, but it's also why Lydia cares for him. With Scott at her side, she knows they can save Stiles.

They just need to find him first.

As the days pass, Lydia feels herself growing ill.

The headaches grow worse. Her heart beats wildly some moments and then skips randomly. Her breathing is much too shallow. She can barely sleep. Quietly, she can admit to herself that she's slowly falling apart.

And the fact that Scott soon notices her condition makes her realize that she really must be sick.

"You need to see a doctor." Scott tells her softly. "Or at least let Deaton look and—"

She doesn't have the energy or will to argue with him. So, together, they head over to the veterinary clinic. While Scott paces, Deaton checks her over, pokes and prods at her. He runs tests that come back negative. There's nothing wrong with her really. No illness that can be treated.

Through it all, she feels detached from the examination—so sick of feeling sick really.

"Lydia, have you lost someone recently?" Deaton questions and her breath catches.

"Lost someone?" Scott echoes.

Deaton nods, "Often, when people—especially those with powers—form bonds, and those bonds are linked not only spiritually but physically." He regards her curiously, "Losing someone important would have an effect on you physically."

"Like dying of a broken heart?" Scott ventures.

Deaton nods, "Like that, yes." Then, narrowing his gaze, he presses, "Lydia, did you lose someone?"

She has.

But they'll find him before it's too late.

So, really, it's not a big deal.

"What if she has lost someone? Can you help her?" Scott ventures.

Deaton sighs, "I'm afraid I can't. We can only treat the symptoms. The actual cause is the absence of this person she formed the bond with. Their presence can cure her."

"And if we can't find that person? Will she just continue to get worse?"

Deaton thinks a moment before answering, "It's tough to say. These cases go either one of two ways—the person either recovers or they don't."

Scott narrows his gaze, "And if she doesn't?"

"Scott." She chides quietly.

"Death, usually." Deaton replies softly and Lydia nods her head. She'd figured it be something like that. Fate would be too kind to let her off the hook now.

"Lydia?" Deaton questions and she forces a smile on her lips.

"Don't worry." She assures him, "It will be okay."

Scott looks like he wants to press the matter, but she hops off the exam table, thanks the good doctor and move outside. They'll find Stiles and everything will be okay.

That's what she believes anyways.

When they leave the clinic, Scott stops her before they get into his car.

"Stiles loves you." The alpha states softly. He grabs her hand within his own and she wants to look away, wants to refute what he's saying, but he continues, "He's always loved you. Lydia, if you love him too—"

"It doesn't matter." She dismisses because she isn't ready to have this talk yet, isn't ready to face her feelings.

"It does!" Scott insists, gripping her hand, "Lydia, look, you're suffering because he's gone, because he loves you and you—"

"He loves Malia." She says softly.

"No. Not truly." Scott smirks somewhat, "But you knew that, didn't you?"

She doesn't say anything. She's not sure what to say. Does she love Stiles? Can she admit that to Scott when she can barely admit it to herself?

"We'll get him back. That's what matters."

"But—"

Without another word, she gets in the car.

More days pass.

Lydia gets a fever that won't go down no matter how much medicine she takes. She powers through and keeps researching, keeps following leads, keeps hoping that today will be the day that she'll bring him home.

Scott won't say it, but he's worried about her. She can see him glancing at her when he thinks she won't notice. He brings her food whenever he comes to research, he asks her about what medicine she's taking and if he should ask him mom to help her.

This bond she and Stiles share . . . this is what is causing her illness. It implies that she and Stiles are . . .

When she was little, she'd used to read fairy tales about true love conquering all, about soul mates overcoming trials to be together. She'd lose herself in the pages, drowning out the loud sounds of her parents bickering and exchanging it for declarations of love. As she grew up, she left those childish fantasies behind and told herself that love could never be that pure. Love itself was messy and often cruel.

But now, with Stiles, she begins to doubt that.

"Lydia? What do you think?" Scott hands her a bottle of water and she gratefully accepts it.

"I won't get better until we find Stiles, right?" She murmurs and Scott nods.

It really is as simple as that.

Scott nods.

Don't forget me.

His eyes had been so desperate, his hands so clammy when they held hers and God, she wanted nothing more than to hold him, to protect him from anything that might come.

I won't.

She loved him. She's always loved him. He's owned her heart for longer than she can remember.

Don't forget me.

She loves him. She needs him.

Don't forget me.

And they do find him, two months later, in the forest at the edge of town. One second, she's standing there with Scott, clutching a glowing orb and then in the next, Stiles is there, gasping and smiling and Lydia is crying, her vision blurring and God, this is what she's been waiting for, seeing him once more.

"I knew you'd come." Stiles says softly as he pulls her into his arms and immediately, at his touch, she can breathe again. Her fever breaks as she looks into his eyes.

Anchors. Bonds.

Whatever they call it, Lydia knows what it really means—true love. It exists and she's fought so hard for it and now, finally, it's hers.

Lydia loves Stiles.

"Lydia?"

There are a thousand words floating in her brain right now. There are a million things she wants to tell him. A lifetime of sentences she needs to tell him, to show him that she'd been foolish before, that she's ready to be with him.

She settles for pressing her lips to his, letting her actions speak.

When they break apart, he holds her in his arms and Lydia knows that this is always where she was meant to end up.

And when Scott says let's go home, Lydia just holds Stiles' hand and she realizes something.

With him by her side, she's already home.

Author's Note: Expect more Stydia one-shots from me, especially since I know this is the final season. I hope you enjoyed! Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!