Description: This is sort of my optimistic/pessimistic (because I'm something of a realist) prediction for what may happen in next week's 5x06 episode when we FINALLY have some STYDIA.
Lydia and Stiles are finally spending time together, but as a result old feelings boil over and the truth finally come out.
"Alright, so the Wendigo family, they're all dead, plus the keg guy, the one girl, and now there's an entirely new set of supernaturals that are up on the kill list. You unlocked the second part with Meredith and you think can use her to figure out the last third." Stiles restated everything they knew, pacing around the room and pulling away at red strings from his portable display. Stiles and Lydia stood in the Martin household in Lydia's bedroom, working through the latest supernatural mystery. It had been hours now and the Chinese food that sat on the desk was cold and the fortune cookies broken and forgotten, the little white slips of paper resting ignored on the desk.
"I know all of that Stiles, obviously." Lydia said with some annoyance, though she was smiling a little at how easily they had slipped back into this easy habit, spending hours on end together, eating delivery food, and attempting to figure out all the craziness that seemed to swirl around and consume their whole lives. It was chaotic, yet everything she really need and it just felt right.
"Aren't you worried?" Stiles said, stopping his pacing to come and stand in front of her.
"About what?" She said, sliding down to sit on the edge of her bed, dipping into the soft down of her comforter. "About Scott, about Kira, well a little obviously? They're my friends Stiles, understandably I'm concerned. But he's a true alpha and she a katana wielding kitsune, they can take care of themselves, I think. Therefore I won't sit here all night fretting over their safety. If Scott thinks they're safe, they are. He said he can protect himself, he can, they're fine." Lydia stated, looking at Stiles like he was a little ridiculous. Kira and Scott, of all people could take care of themselves.
"I'm not really talking about them Lydia," Stiles began slowly, "There's a massive price attached to your name, I mean yours was the second-highest price on that list, after the aforementioned true alpha, I mean, you know you're less-less, you can't, you're not as…" Stiles said, tapering off at the end, unable to find the words that wouldn't or offend the redheaded spitfire. She looked up at him from her place on the bed.
"Not as what Stiles?" She said humorlessly, knowing what he was trying to say.
"I don't know Lyds, you're just less vicious that a Scott or a Derek Hale or even Kira, you're an easier target I think." Stiles said, and at his words her eyes lit up and her eyebrows shot to the sky. He retraced his steps, "It's not a bad thing it's just true! God, that's not what I mean I mena uhm" He continued, grimacing a little as he made it worse, running his hand over the back of his neck, a bright red blush running up his neck and permeating into his checks slowly but surely. She sat and glared a little, the silence eating him alive. Lydia's phone rang.
Silently Stiles was thrilled that her phone had rung. Saved by the bell, if you will.
"It's Parrish." Lydia said, her eyes lighting up as the phone screen did, and Stiles couldn't help but wonder why she was excited that he would call. He also couldn't help but be concerned. He was suddenly less thrilled about the phone call.
"Parrish?" Stiles probed agitatedly. He wanted to walk around and look over her shoulder at her phone. She shied away as she saw him moving closer to him, hiding the screen of her phone for a reason she couldn't quite but her finger on.
"Yea, as in your dads deputy. Do you know other Jordan Parishes' Stiles?" Lydia replied shortly, still angry with him from before. He thought she was weak, and that hurt a little bit more than she would have expected.
"Why is Parrish calling you?" Stiles retorted standing in front of her.
"What do you mean? I don't know why he's calling me, I've not picked up have I?" Lydia said, throwing the phone across the bed, a spiteful look on her face.
"I mean why does he have your phone number?" Stiles said, something stirring within him that he realized he hadn't felt for a while. Why was Parrish calling her anyway?
"We worked together on the Wendigo thing, and this other time I was looking for files, and I mean I don't know Stiles he's been around, we we're sorta, friends, acquaintances maybe." Lydia said not thinking much of it. Her and Parrish had been working together, and she liked Parrish. Parrish paid attention to her recently, so yes, they had somehow become friends. Considering where she stood right now, she could use a couple.
"So you two are acquaintances enough that he would call you, Lydia. Is Parrish what you meant when you said you were done with high school boys?" Stiles said.
"Why the hell do you care Stiles?!" Lydia said standing suddenly from where she'd been sitting and throwing her arms out to the sides and getting in his face forcing him to step back to accommodate for her. She felt her heart rate shoot up at his proximity but watched him step back quickly beginning to pace again.
"Oh I don't know Lydia maybe because he's a potentially vicious murderous creature we've yet to identify who potentially wants to violently murder you? And now you're phone buddies?" Stiles said, lobbing his arms out spastically as his voice's volume rose dramatically. "What do you guys text and facebook too? Lydia, are you even thinking about your own safety?"
"I didn't pick up the damn phone did I? And what if I had picked up Stiles? I can take care of myself." Lydia said, beginning to yell back. She wasn't sure why her friendship with the Deputy was making him so angry, but it made him just as aggravated with her.
"You're doing it again." He yelled back at her, still striding about the length of the room, always moving as he spoke.
"Doing what?" She asked, screwing her face into an angry look, her eyebrows scrunching in, her lips pursing. The pale pink of her lips crinkled inward as she tightened them violently. He made her so furious so quickly and suddenly she couldn't stand him, she almost hated him.
"That thing you do where you stop thinking about how much it would hurt other people if you got hurt." Stiles said, reminded of the time much like this when she wasn't worried about her own life, about the risks she seemed so willing to take. IT had been years ago but the memory caught him like déjà vu, standing in a bedroom trying to tell her how important she was. "You'll do anything to protect the people you love while completely disregarding your own safety. Remember what I told you that time that if you died people would go out of their freaking minds, that still stands Lydia. That hasn't changed." She notices that he's edited the old phrase, and it breaks her heart in a sudden blow, cripples her lungs and makes her suddenly short of breath. It used to be that you would go out of your mind Stiles, she thinks, has that changed then?
"Well, you don't seem to care anymore." Lydia said gasping as she says it, crossing her arms over her chest and spinning around the stare at the wall. The thin printed fabric of her skirt dances over the skin of her thigh as she does it, the display slightly catching Stiles eyes. Its an old habit he thinks, of course he would notice. And then her words set in.
"What the hell does that mean, I don't care anymore?" He said coming up behind her wanting to look at her, wanting her to turn around and look at him again. His hand extends to grab her arm and try to make her turn around but he pulls it back, a sad look on his face.
"Nothing… it means nothing." Lydia whispered, lamenting having let the angry words leave her lips. She can't bring herself to turn towards him, can't look him in the face as she can feel tears threatening to brim over the edges of her eyes.
"Lydia..." He says quietly. The single syllable shoots splinters into her heart again.
"Just drop it Stiles okay, it was petty of me to say anything, I'm sorry, I should have just kept my mouth shut." Lydia said, reaching up to hid her face and wipes away a tear that inches down the side of her nose, avoiding him as she tried to walk over to the bed. Stiles won't let her though; he followed her from a distance as she walked around the edge of the room.
"Lydia if you're angry with me you should say something." Stiles said beginning to yell again, finally acting on his impulse and reaching out to tug on her arm and pull her back to him.
"I'm not angry Stiles, just, please can you drop it." She shouts back, spinning around, shaking off the fingers wrapped around her arm.
"Then what? What is it?" Stiles said, facing her directly. They stood in the center of her room, feet from her bed, yelling back and forth at each other.
"Stiles drop it." She demanded gritting her teeth to beg him to let this one go.
"I won't Lydia, if something's wrong tell me." His hands flew up in front of his chest exasperatedly, begging her to tell him what it was that was bothering her.
"Stiles." She begged, her tone quieting. She didn't know why she'd said it, and she wordlessly wished she could take it back.
"Lydia Martin," He said, hushing as well, attempting to contest her pacified tone, "Tell me what it is. I know you Lydia, and I know when something is wrong with you."
"Stop!" She suddenly yelled. He froze there, slowly undoing the fist he had made of his fingers and she watched him do it, each of his fingers uncurling slowly. She collected herself, breathing in and out deliberately. Regretting a little bit that she had raised her tone she went on, "Okay, it's just, it's just, with everything, with everything that's been happening, with everything that has happened, I-I-"
"Lydia please." Stiles murmured, nearly whispering it as he looked down at her. They were so close, inches from each other, breathing the same air, hearts thumping in rapid synchronization.
"Stop okay don't rush me." Lydia said reaching up to run both hands through the hair at her scalp, locking her fingers at the crown of her head and closing her eyes lightly.
Finally silence settled around them, the sound of their heartbeats and gasping the only palpable noises. She forcibly breathed in and out once more and began and opened her eyes to find his directly on hers..
"It's just, I mean, it's been a long couple of months for me Stiles, it started with Aiden and Allison. I lost people Stiles, two important people to me, people I cared about, people I loved." She began, finding the words harder to say than she expected.
"You didn't love Aiden." He said suddenly, interjecting. She looked up at him, blinking intently and wondered why he'd had to say it. She watched him as she said it and contemplated his reasoning. He was right though.
"Fine… You're right I didn't love Aiden." She acknowledged, "But Allison…Yea Allis- loosing her, it broke me for months and the first person that I wanted to see was you, I just wanted you—" She cut off short, hearing herself as she spoke, a sob slipping into her tone and racking her chest.
"What do you mean?" Stiles said.
"Stiles, after Allison you were it for me, you were my best friend." Lydia said, unlocking her hands from her hair and running her fingers over her temples and pinching the bridge of her nose. She was struggling to maintain eye contact with him, something she found difficult when anything to due with Stiles and feelings came to play.
"What do you mean were Lydia, I still am—"
"No Stiles, you're not anymore, you're Malia's now. You weren't there because you had to help her." She said, trying to explain it as best she could.
"Malia doesn't own me, I care about her but I don't…Malia doesn't own me I'm not a thing to be had." Stiles says gesturing at her trying to explain it, reiterating it as if trying to make it more true.
"No I know that Stiles, I know that I do I just… I just felt like I lost you, I lost my Stiles… or uhm, I mean, my friend Stiles." She could hear her words begin to mumble together and she felt her tongue tripping over itself as she spoke.
"We're still friends Lydia, I mean I guess I can't speak for you but I'm still your friend unless something has changed on your front." He said, his hand flying to the back of his neck as he uttered it.
"It kind of has, changed for me I mean." Lydia said slowly. And it had, this was the first time that the two of them had spent time together since before Ally had died. Since that awful night when all she had wanted to do was cling to him and cry into his chest and never leave, but he had been with Malia, through not fault of his own. But he had still been with her.
"Oh… so you're not my friend then." Stiles said surprised at this. He hadn't known that everything had changed. He acknowledged that he'd spent a lot of time with Malia, of course he had she was his girlfriend for goodness sake, it was part of the deal.
"No that's not what I meant Stiles." She said, trying to convey her thoughts as best she could, quickly relocking her fingers in the sides of her hair.
"No it's okay you've been pretty clear about what you meant, I mean if we're not friends then I mean, I don't know if I can waste anymore time-" Stiles began to collect his things, rushing around her room preparing to storm out of the. Somehow he was hurt. It wasn't like Lydia had been spending much time together lately it wasn't like he could miss her. Except he could, and he really had. Tonight, everything feeling the same as it always used to, it had all made him feel brilliantly normal and happy again. He forgot how much he missed Lydia. Leaving was hurting him a little, but he had to get out of there. He hadn't even left yet and he already missed her.
"God no don't go, Stiles please don't go, please you can't leave me." Lydia replied, following behind him and extending a hand to tug on his arm and pull him back to her. He spun around in the doorway, dropping his bag, and facing her. Suddenly they were wildly close to each other, and she felt her breath catch in her throat and pulse pick up. She cursed herself for letting all this happen for letting him influence her like this.
"What? God, what do you want from me Lydia?!" Stiles began, "You're not my friend apparently, which is new news to me, so I was doing you a favor and leaving so you can have some phone call with your new buddy deputy Parrish and now you're asking me to stay. I don't get you Lydia."
"I'm sorry okay?! Why do you keep bringing up Parrish?" Lydia said staring up at him.
"Because Parrish is relevant, he's… I don't know why, alright? Why can't I go, so you can't torture me more, twist my heart in half and tell me we're enemies now!" Stiles said, nearly yelling again, his breathing picking up as he unwittingly stepped closer to her.
"Stiles no it's not that! I never said we were enemies!" Rapidly she felt that her voice was rising too, and suddenly they were yelling at each other again. Always with the yelling.
"It's not what Lydia? Because if you're not my friend I don't-"
"Please I can't loose you!" She shouted again frenziedly at her tossing her hands into the air, wanting desperately to reach out and grab him and pull him back to her. She felt her breathing picking up, like a panic attack itching in the back of her throat.
"You never lost me!" He yelled.
"I did though!"
"No, Lydia, I never left, I never will leave because you're my best friend in the world along with Scott. And I refuse to loose either of you!"
"It's not that simple!"
"Why can't it be simple!" He said pushing his hands out from his temples violently and tensing each and every finger attached to his palm.
"I can't be your friend Stiles." The panic rose so high in her throat she felt herself choking on it.
"God you're confusing the hell out of me." Stiles grimaced shouting in a garish yell.
"I just, that I-"
"That you what?"
"I-Stiles-I-Stiles—" Lydia shrieked, nearly bawling, tasting the panic on her tongue, her breathing tremulous and unsteady.
"Lydia tell me for the love of-"
And then she kissed him. She bound her hands around his neck and wove her fingers into his hair. She pressed her body up against every bend of his body, closer than ever and pressed her lips against his. She craved the warmth he supplied, needed it like oxygen but he stood, frozen beneath her touch, shell-shocked, and she had known deep in her heart that this would be it. Lydia had thought this through, as impulsive as the action had seemed, she realized she been planning to kiss him since she'd felt the panic attack rising in her throat, hell maybe even since they had begun arguing. For a second, as she didn't feel his lips begin to move with hers as she wished they would, Lydia regretted it. Kissing Stiles would complicate things and make everything confusing and miserable. Then she realized she couldn't regret it, this kiss was the most honest she had been about anything since Allison had died, that everything in her life had already been miserable and confusing when it came to Stiles. So she didn't take it back, she just kept kissing him, silently begging his lips to bend with her own.
But he didn't kiss her back, and her breathing had stopped catching violently in her throat so she just pulled her lips away slowly, stopping the kiss without wanting to and missing the feeling of his lips on hers.
She leaned away and cast her eyes downward. Lydia wanted to keep her eyes closed, didn't want to ruin the moment by looking up at his face. He stood as if she hadn't just run up and pressed her lips against his. Stiles' arms hung limp at his side, she could feel his breath warm on her forehead.
"Why did you do that?" He breathed in a near whisper, the way his breath dusted over her forehead and sent her heart reeling.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have." Lydia said still looking at the ground, studying the patterns in the wood for faces like she always seemed to see. Maybe she'd find something in them that would make get her out of this.
"No… You're right you really shouldn't have." He replied. "I mean you're too late here, you couldn't have done this months and months ago? Or years ago? Why couldn't you have realized this in the second grade when I realized how perfect you were and how much I was in love with you? I'm with Malia…" And at that name Lydia froze as well.
"I'm sorry… I was… about to have a panic attack I think." She said, lying a little a bit.
"So you just did it to… hold you breath then?" He said quietly.
… No I wanted to, I wanted to kiss you, panic attack or not you're the one I want, the only person I ever want to kiss, ever. She thought. But she didn't say it, she just nodded her head quickly.
"I have to go." Stiles said, shouldering his bag again, and rushing out the door.
She watched him storm away and hurry quickly down the staircase. When she heard the door slam and his Jeep rev, she opened her mouth and screamed.
Banshee, the wailing women; standing in an empty house screaming for dear life. It was a scream of the broken-hearted girl, one who was weak and scared… and broken, truly broken. When finally the scream had dissipated, the nasty taste lingering on her tongue, she lay limp on the bed and cried until she melted into a restless, techni-colored sleep, riddled with dreams of each of her friends dying in front of her, always ending in Stiles standing before her, her kissing him, and him frozen, unmoving beneath her begging lips.