A/N: Stydia 4 lyfe y'all. Hope you all enjoy! I love Teen Wolf, and I love getting feedback even more. ;)
She picked up on the first ring.
One moment she had been dreaming, the next her phone was in her hand and she was breathing in short bursts out her nose. She just knew, somehow. And as soon as Scott's voice filled the other line, she felt the pit of dread bloom in her hollow stomach.
"Lydia? Lydia it's Scott. Listen...you need to come home. It's-it's Stiles."
She looked over at the clock on her nightstand, blaring a red 2:47 AM into the darkness of her bedroom.
"I'll catch the next flight." She murmured, and Scott breathed a thank you before she hung up.
Swiftly, she swung her bare legs out of bed, and turned on her bedside table lamp. A voice groaned from the mountain of silk bedding.
"Babe? What's going on?"
"I have to go home." She spoke, primly pulling a large suitcase out of her closet.
A naked man propped himself up on his elbows, looking at her with bleary eyes.
"Now?"
"Yes now." She snapped, as she threw in several pairs of Louboutin's and Christian Lacroix.
"And where is home, exactly?" He asked in a husky voice.
"Beacon Hills, California."
"That's right. Your accent is so good, I forgot you were American." He rubbed a hand over his face.
"Merci." She smirked. "Listen Louis, I hate to have you hit the road at 3 AM, but you know how it is darling." She said swiftly, as she pranced around the room, tossing brightly colored garments into her bag on the floor.
"My name is Daniel." He muttered.
"Of course it is darling." She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Au revoir, my love. See you when I return."
He climbed out of her bed, pulling the sheets up to barely cover his lower half, and sauntered behind her, arms snaking around her waist.
"And when will that be, Lydia?" He whispered in her ear.
Truthfully, she had no idea if or when she would ever return to Paris. That all depended on one thing, one person. Last time she left Beacon Hills, she promised to herself she would never return. But the years had passed, and she felt the slow burn to return. Sometimes she would wake up to it, covering her lungs and making it hard to breathe. Sometimes, she would see their faces on the train. Whenever a dog barked, she still jumped.
And sometimes, late at night...when she had too much to drink, and was completely alone for once...she would put her palm over her heart and listen to it pound. And she would allow herself to think of him then, but only for a moment.
Lydia quickly cleared her throat.
"Not sure but I'll let you know, Louis." She kissed his cheek, handed him his clothes, and ushered him out of the door.
"It's Daniel!" He huffed, before the door was slammed in his face.
"Excuse me? Mimosa, and a vodka. On the rocks." Lydia instructed the flight attendant, before settling into the plush first-class airplane seat.
"Nervous flyer, dearie?" A white haired woman crooned from across the aisle.
Lydia gave a brief, tight-lipped smile in response. Flying was nothing compared to the real terrors she had been through in her life. The truth was, it was returning to Beacon Hills which gave her anxiety. She couldn't help the nagging sensation of dread that was pulling at her heart. She tried to squash it with the Bloody Mary that was already in her shaking hand. Hopefully she would be successfully inebriated by the time she landed in LAX, at least enough to take the edge off seeing Stiles again.
Stiles.
She tossed the rest of her drink back.
Thirty minutes before the landing, Scott called.
"Hey, just wanted you to know that we're here, -And we can't wait to see you!" She heard Allison shout in the background, and for the first time since 3 AM, she cracked a smile.
"I can't wait to see you both."
"We love you, Lydia. We'll get through this. All of us."
Allison flung her body into Lydia's arms. Lydia could feel her shaking, and tried to ignore the fact that it was because she was silently crying.
"I'm so glad you're here! It's been how long?"
"Almost four years." She answered, willing her own voice not to shake.
"I can't believe I haven't seen you in four years. Let me take a look at you." She drew back, and cupped Lydia's face in her hands.
"You're even more beautiful than when I last saw you! How is that possible?!" Allison laughed, her eyes still watery.
"I could say the same for you!" Lydia laughed.
Allison's hair had remained the same since high school, but long gone were the high school frocks. She dressed like a woman now. And Lydia noticed with a shock that she held a hand under a slightly protruding belly.
"Surprise!" Scott smiled, and gave Lydia a one armed hug and a kiss on the forehead.
"You? You're having a..a-"
"Baby!" They exclaimed together.
"Come on," Scott smiled, picking up her luggage. "We'll explain in the car!"
The drive from LAX to Beacon Hills was a couple of hours, so they filled the time by playing catch up as Lydia watched the forrest reserves blur by.
After high school graduation, the pack had all went their separate ways. Lydia had flown to England to attend Oxford University, and was currently working on her Doctorate in Paris. Scott had gone to a local community college to major in physical education, while Allison attended UCLA to study history, with an emphasis in folklore.
"So Allison and I just graduated, and we only found out she was pregnant like, two weeks ago."
"I thought it was the terrible college diet!" Allison laughed. And Lydia laughed along with her.
"Still can't believe you're going to be Dr. Martin soon. Lydia, you're only twenty-one. That's insane. We're all so proud of you." Allison said, reaching behind her to clasp Lydia's hand.
"That's nothing compared to the journey you two are about to have." Lydia said, squeezing her hand. "Tell me everything!"
"Well, we were visiting each other back and forth, and you know. It just kind of happened."
"It was a surprise," Scott explained, "But we couldn't be more thrilled. We just told my mom and her dad the other day, and we're all pretty psyched."
"And I know why you're glancing at my left hand." Allison smirked at her. "Baby first, ring second. We just want to have one thing at a time on our plate."
"Well I couldn't be more happy, for both of you." Lydia smiled so hard she cracked her jaw.
It was incredible, seeing her friends growth all at once. Scott had gotten even taller, and if it was possible, filled out even more. He smiled just as frequently as he did when she knew him in high school, but she did notice how they didn't quite reach his eyes.
She knew the reason why.
"So we're all living in the same apartment building. Scott and I have our own flat, and then Derek is above us, with the rest of the pack. And Stiles and Malia are living below us." Scott said casually, and Allison gave him a swift jab in the ribs.
"Oh-uh, sorry." Scott muttered sheepishly, throwing Lydia an apologetic look.
"For what?" Lydia laughed, and she felt it echo all the way down her hollow cavern of a chest.
"Nothing. We just know that it can be a bit difficult to talk about Stiles for you." Allison said sympathetically.
"It's not." Lydia waved her hand. "That was years ago. We'll always be good friends."
"Well, I suppose now is as good of a time as any. You know he's the reason we called you here." Allison said.
"After we all graduated, Malia still wasn't warming up to school. So she dropped out, but is currently working on her GED. Which, you know, is progress." Scott chuckled, and Lydia smirked, remembering that word frequenting any and all conversations about Malia.
"And Stiles," Scott continued, "got scholarships like, everywhere. He's so damn clever."
"Brilliant, really." Allison interjected.
"He always wanted to be a Beacon Hills sheriff or detective, like his dad. But he was getting all these amazing opportunities to go anywhere and study law enforcement. So he was at Columbia for a bit, but then, uh…" Scott trailed off.
"Lydia," Allison turned to her in the back seat. "Do you know why we need your help?"
She almost couldn't bring herself to say it, but it slipped out of her mouth before she could have the chance to process it.
"Frontotemporal Dementia." She whispered, and Allison and Scott gave each other a look.
"It's what his mom died from, and it's showing up even earlier in him than her's did. Last time he had an MRI was when we were in high school, and he was possessed by the Nogitsune. We initially thought the symptoms were side effects of the possession. So we stupidly dismissed them." Scott shook his head.
"But then," Allison interrupted, "we began receiving strange phone calls from him. He would be talking about school, and then he would say things that wouldn't make sense. I just brushed it off, thinking it was long-distance miscommunication. Then he sent Scott a letter in the mail."
"His handwriting was terrible. You know how it's usually pretty decent? Meticulous even? Well this looked like a six year old wrote it. Total chicken scratch. I'm surprised the post office could even read the address. I could barely understand his handwriting." Scott explained. "And when he came home for the holidays this past year, he looked really terrible. Like he did when he was possessed by the Nogitsune. Pale, dark circles. He could barely hold a fork without shaking. We thought school was just exhausting for him."
"That was until," Allison spoke, "he went back to New York, and was supposed to fly home for Easter. But he didn't. He didn't come home at all. They...someone found him face down in an alley. He couldn't even tell them who he was."
Lydia fought the urge to clamp her hands over her ears. It was all so horrible, and yet, she understood completely and expectantly, as if she had heard it all before. But now all of her dread and suspicions were confirmed. Stiles was in danger. And this time it wasn't from the Benefactor, or a demon spirit, or even the supernatural at all. It was from himself.
"Look," Scott sighed. "When we all went to Beacon Hills, we were battling the supernatural every day. Since we've left, everything has gotten better. I'm not sure if we were the ones attracting all that trouble, but these past few years when something came up, Derek and his pack handled it. And it's been working. Beacon Hills has its bumps, but it was nothing near as bad as when we were in high school. I know we're asking a lot of you, but we might have to go back to the way it was. We may have to contact some old enemies. We may have to search for improbable cures. We may have to put our lives in danger again. And we need your help." Scott pleaded. "We need your help because I promised Stiles that I would do everything I could to save him. But no one, not even me, would probably be as beneficial to finding the cure as you are. We need you."
Lydia paused, collecting a breath. She knew what this meant. She knew the prices and the consequences, and she knew what would happen if she said yes. But still, she replied without a shred of hesitation.
"You have me."