One-shot. Spoilers.
"It's your fault.
"She would be here without you."
"You let her die."
"You failed."
"You killed Alison."
With a start, Lydia woke up in her bed with tears streaming down her face. She put her face in her hands as she took a few deep breathes.
She had to get out of here.
Without a second thought, Lydia jumped up and grabbed her car keys.
It wasn't remotely light outside.
She had to see her grave.
She had to see her name carved into the marble and feel the grass growing above her friend.
She had to be with her.
Lydia set the GPS, desperately wanting to hear some sort of other voice just to be there. As the machine gave each monotonous order, she couldn't help but hear her friend's voice start to blend into the directions as well.
"You have reached your destination."
Thank you, Alison, she quietly thought.
Looking up, Lydia suddenly realized she'd made a mistake. She was at Stiles' house.
Hitting the steering wheel in frustration and holding back a scream, Lydia shouted, "Is this it, Alison? Is this where you want me?"
She seemed to be yelling at the roof of her car, now.
"What is this, blind date set up by those in the afterlife? What, Alison? What? You want me to confess my love? You want me to crawl into his bed for comfort like he's probably dreamed I would, all of these years?"
Silence.
"Well? Well!"
She looked down and took a shallow breath. What she wouldn't give for an answer. For a few simple words. For anything.
With her head now resting on the steering wheel, she suddenly turned at a sound echoing in her ear. It sounded like a whimper. Sitting up, she listened harder, focusing her abilities on this sound. Suddenly the sobs increased into frantic harsh yelps.
Stiles.
Immediately determining the rock in the plotted plant as one with a key hidden inside, Lydia entered the house without giving up her stride.
Rushing into Stiles' room, she was suddenly grabbed by a pair of strong hands and pushed into the wall of his room.
"Lydia. Lydia no. He got you too," his words came out rushed and his eyes seemed extremely large. Pulling her down with him so that they were crouching on the ground, he told, "Be quite and they won't get us. Oh, oh.. it's all my fault."
Her hands flew up to his face and stroked his cheek a few times, trying to calm him.
"No, Stiles-" He started looking all around them and grabbing at her as if to make sure she was really there.
"Stiles, this is real. Listen to me. It's alright. Everything is fine. This is real." She punctuated every sentence and looked him in the eyes.
He shook his head insistently in response. Without breaking eye contact, Lydia clasped his hands, and pulled them up in between their faces.
"Count with me okay. I'm your anchor here."
He nodded and leaned his forehead against hers.
"One. Two. Three," she started evenly.
Stiles started to close his eyes and steady his breathing, still against her.
"Six. Seven."
Lydia had started kissing each finger or knuckle as they went by.
"Nine."
Stiles opened his eyes.
"Ten," she finished.
After a second of silence, Stiles suddenly embraced Lydia.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he whispered. She started rubbing his neck and back to comfort him.
"It's okay. I- I've got you."
She could feel it happening to her. That anchor tying them tighter together and as she helped him up to his bed, she silently slipped in next to him.
And she knew, as they laid in each other's grasps, that she wasn't just solely Stiles' anchor. Alison had led her back to hers as well.