Lydia is tired.
Her bones ache. Her eyes ache. Even her hair hurts. She fiddles with her copy of Dread Doctors as she takes a headcount. It's become a habit. She times it. Every two hours a little mental timer in Lydia's head goes off and every time, she counts.
Scott and Kira are huddled together on the couch, Kira lighting Scott's copy of the book by holding a light bulb in her hands. Lydia smirks. At one point in her life, electricity, wires, hell the fucking laws of physics all made sense. Now, she thinks, she's lucky if she can even remember to do her physics homework before the pack starts their nightly vigil.
Her gaze drifts over to Hayden and Liam, who have been sleeping for over 10 hours now. Both of them had flat out refused to sleep alone in Scott's room, so they are laying on a spread out sleeping bag and under several blankets in the middle of the floor.
On the other side of this makeshift circle are Theo and Malia. Theo is curled up in an armchair, and Lydia thinks he looks decidedly less menacing in a hoodie and sweatpants. His eyes are cast downwards towards his scanned copy of the book, but Lydia can see that his eyes aren't moving and he isn't actually reading. Malia is a little ways away at the foot of Theo's armchair. The book has slipped from her fingers and her head is resting on Theo's knee as she sleeps.
Stiles is in the kitchen. She can hear him humming and pages turning.
Lydia will not let herself fall asleep. She tells herself that this is an amazing display of willpower and dedication rather than the sad fact that she is too afraid to close her eyes.
"Coffee. I'm going to get coffee." She whispers loudly.
Scott and Kira shake their heads at her in response, Malia stirs in her sleep but does not wake, and Theo looks up at her, expressionless, before gesturing that she go ahead. She drags her feet down the hallway. Walking properly requires energy, and energy requires more than 3 hours of sleep a night. She pauses at the edge of the kitchen door. Even though Stiles has showered, the air around him still smells like smoke, and, she's pretty sure she can see a smear of soot on the back of his ear.
"Hey." She says softly, not wanting to startle him. Stiles still jumps about a foot in the air.
"Jesus!" He exclaims.
"Nope. Just me." Lydia says flatly. He seems to appreciate her attempt at humor, as a smile flickers across his face.
"You want some coffee?" Lydia gestures to the mugs stacked neatly on the kitchen counter.
"My heart's already beating twice the speed it should be at pretty much all times of the day." Stiles says in response. Lydia knows he is only half joking.
"Okay, hot chocolate then." Lydia says, marching over to Scott's pantry.
There, she finds a package of hot chocolate and an unopened bag of mini marshmallows. Both are a little dusty. She thinks of the Scott she knows and the Scott that would eat mini marshmallows by the bag. Whoever that Scott was, he doesn't exist anymore.
10 minutes later, Lydia sets two steaming mugs of hot chocolate on the table and slides herself into the chair across from Stiles. He's staring at his copy of Dread Doctors with a frown on his face.
"What's wrong?" Lydia asks. It crosses her mind that this may be the most useless and futile question she's ever asked in her entire life.
"Nothing." Stiles says back, not looking at her.
'Good,' she thinks as she raises the warm mug to rest against her lips. 'A useless and futile answer.'
"I'm so tired." She says absentmindedly. Stiles nods in agreement.
"What are you tired of?" Lydia asks, because she knows this is the real question.
"Of feeling like I'm gonna die, watching my friends die, having things out there that want me to die." He blurts this out.
Lydia notices his hands are shaking and instinctively reaches over to take his cup from him. She sets it down on the table and then reaches across to touch her fingertips to Stiles' own.
"Me too." She agrees.
"Why are you tired?" Stiles asks her. His fingers reach forward to cover more of her hand.
"I'm tired of my mind." Lydia whispers. "I'm tired of hearing voices wherever I go. Do you know how many people have died in Beacon Hills, Stiles? They all just scream and scream and scream and I can't take it anymore." Stiles' fingers curl around her own. "My mind used to be my ticket out of this town y'know? Now I don't think it's ever going to let me leave."
Stiles wordlessly hands her a mini marshmallow from the bag in between them. "I'm going to get you out of this." He says simply.
"Why haven't you been sleeping?" He asks her as she chews.
"How do you know I haven't been sleeping?" Lydia says, ignoring the pleased feeling she gets from his concern.
"We're all together almost every night. Every time I wake up, you're awake. I know you finished that book the first day we got it." He narrows his eyes at her.
"I'm too wired." Lydia says. The lie comes easily. She will not let herself be Stiles' burden, even though she knows he'd happily let her.
Later, when Lydia's washed the dishes and Stiles has settled down on the living room floor, she allows herself to sit next to him. And when 20 minutes later her head dips onto Stiles' shoulder and he doesn't move, she tells herself that she is asleep, and it's an unconscious movement.
Just for tonight, Lydia allows herself to rest on his shoulders. She makes herself promise not to do it again.
I wrote this at the beginning of season 5.
It's a scene that I would have liked to see because I love Stiles and Lydia, and I want more full pack scenes.
I know this is short, I'm sorry. I haven't written anything in a long long time. If you have any thoughts, please leave me a comment. Either on here or over on Tumblr. My username is mcstiles.
Title is taken from Paul Izak's song "All Ways Love".
Annie