Screams.
She always woke up with the screams.
Sitting up slowly, Lydia Martin surveyed her dark room. Cold and silent, eerie, as if the memory of the screams still lingered. Eyelids drooping, she glanced at the time.
2:30.
She slumped back down into the comfort of her blankets, trying to drown out the silence in he covers.
Closing her eyes, she let the darkness calm her heart and slow her breathing.
His scream.
Her eyes snapped open and she shot up, hands over her ears.
Stiles.
She knew they were his… she couldn't mistake his voice. Pressing her palms harder against her ears, she tried to silence the screams so she could think, act, hold her own scream in.
Then it was gone… but she knew it wasn't just a dream.
Barely pulling on boots and shrugging into a coat, she was out the door and into her car, heart pounding, pulse jumping each second. Shaky hands tried to dial his number, but she had to start over several times.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
"Hi this is Stiles, leave me a message… or something… and I will most likely get back to you! *muffle* *scratch* SCOTT!"
Clenching the wheel harder she blew a red light whipping tears from her eyes.
Screams again and she screamed back at them, the tears coming faster and hotter. She swerved into oncoming traffic and back again before a collision with a Semi.
Stiles! She thought wildly, hold on!
Scott wouldn't answer…
Kira wouldn't answer….
Liam…
Derek….
Sheriff Stilinski…
Yelling at the windshield, she pushed her foot down harder and tried to keep up with her own breath being rapidly sucked from her lungs.
His yells intensified and strengthened as she neared his house.
She could hear his whimpers, and yells throaty and terrified.
The car was barely in the driveway when she jumped out and ran for the door… but his screams pulled her away. She could hear the real ones now, with her mind and her ears, both hurting from his pain.
"Stiles!" She screamed, turning wildly as she tried to follow his anguishing cries.
His next scream was louder and she ran for the backyard and towards the shed.
"Stiles!"
Throwing open the doors, she found him on the floor curled up next to the lawn mower screaming. She dropped to her knees and shook him violently.
"Stiles, come on! Stiles, wake up!"
Eye clamped shut he continued to yell, fast asleep, tears streaming down his face.
She cupped her hands under his face and tried to keep him from his seizure-like flailings.
"Stiles, its Lydia!"
His body went limp and his eyes fluttered open slowly. Breathing slowed, and his lips parted, eyebrows furrowed, he calmed.
"Lydia…" he rasped, cheeks wet with salty tears, hair in every direction. Chest heaved and another sob shook him, he pitched forward and buried his face in her hair – body shaking with quiet tears.
"Shhhhhh… you're okay…" she soothed stroking his hair as she rocked him gently back and forth.
"It's not me," he moaned, "I had a dream about you, it was you…"
She froze for a second but then smiled.
"It's alright, Stiles, you're not a banshee. I'm okay…"
His body still, he seemed to wake up full and he pulled away.
"I'm sorry Lydia, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up and you drove all the way here and it's two and..." he drowned out his own sentence in silence and slowly lifted his eyes to meet her's.
"It's alright, Stiles…" she whispered as he sank back down against her, "… you're my best reason to lose sleep."