My spin on next week's episode I guess. I was told to write Stydia and this happened and I have no idea why I wrote it. Don't murder me.
-Loo xoxo
"Stiles, please-"
"Please what, Lydia?" he cut her off, turning to face her. "Don't fight?"
"You'll get yourself-"
"Hurt? No, no. Not anymore." Lydia didn't know who this boy was. His eyes were dark and cold, and she soon began to fear the boy she had kissed just 24 hours earlier was gone for good.
"This lunar eclipse may suck for werewolves, but you know what this does for me, huh? I can fight this time Lydia. I know for sure Scott can't use a gun and I can run ten times faster than he can, let alone not having to stop to take a breath from my inhaler-"
"But Stiles-"
"But nothing! This is my dad, Lydia. The only person on this god forsaken planet left for me, okay? I have to go," he was so close to her face she could feel his hot breath as he yelled at her.
She felt her knees shake and her whole body wanted to collapse in the middle of the Argent's floor. She heard the door slam and she let herself sink to her knees, letting out all the cries she'd been holding in for days. She couldn't let him fight, it's too dangerous. Just hours ago she had desperately tried to wake him from serious hypothermia, and now he wants to step into a gun fight with people twice his size. He was right, he did have a fighting chance but she couldn't stand the thought of losing him- or any of her friends, really.
She was tired of it- she didn't want to see anymore dead bodies.
She didn't want to fear for her life every second of the day.
She was tired of it. She was tired.
Tired.
Lydia was walking. Where to, she had no idea, she just knew it was important. Right, left. Right, left, continuing until she reached a familiar place, though it didn't quite settle in until she slowly opened the door, creaking slowly.
Immediately she heard gunshots and knives being thrown and her focus was snapped into place. She was in the old bank, and suddenly it all became very real, very fast. She felt that thing that she had felt several times before bubble up inside her, the ping in her chest and deathly tingling in her vocal cords. She screamed, but this one more shrill than most, because this was a scream for someone she loved.
She stopped, a single tear rolling down her face before running upstairs for Stiles, not caring what other obstructions she may encounter.
Scott was fighting Deucalion, while the Argents, Isaac, and Derek took on other members of the Alpha pack. Then she saw Stiles. His hand trembling with a knife, desperately trying to defend himself against Aiden.
Stiles raised his knife, pointing the tip to his heart just before Aiden had smashed his into Stiles's chest, breaking Lydia's into a thousand pieces.
"NO," she screamed, the sound choking in her throat as she started to hysterically cry, running to his side.
"No, Stiles, please," she repeated over and over, trying to prop him up and stop the bleeding.
He looked up at her, half smiling. "Think a kiss would work this time too?"
She let the ends of her mouth turn up, stroking his hair. "Wouldn't hurt to try, I guess, wouldn't it?"
She leaned down to give him a soft kiss, deafening the noise around them and she felt his slowing heartbeat rise as much as it could.
She broke away, smiling. At him, rubbing circles in his cheekbones with her thumb, wiping away small tears.
"I wish that wasn't the last time," he told her, his voice so small it sounded like he was in 3rd grade again.
"Who says it is, huh?" she smiled, and she saw his eyes slowly start to close.
She immediately went into panic mode, searching her brain desperately for something to do. God damn it, she thought, you always have an idea!
"Stiles please, stay with me, please," she was smacking the face she was tenderly touching only seconds ago. "HELP," and yelled, "PLEASE, help me."
She saw Scott turn around, wanting so bad to help his friend before getting a blow to the face from Kali.
"Lydia, it's okay. They got my dad, Lydia, he's safe. Safe at home," Stiles choked out.
"That's great, Stiles, that's really great. I bet you can't wait to see him," she cooed, trying anything to keep him awake until the eclipse could pass. She didn't know if some supernatural ability could bring him back but she had to keep trying.
"Someday."
His voice was beginning to sound like a choked whisper, and she could literally feel the life in her hands slowly slip through the cracks.
"Lydia," he started, using all his power to look at her.
"Shh, Stiles, shh," she told him, her tears staining his jacket.
"I love you," he told her softly, "I love you more than I've loved anyone since my mom died. I love you so, so much," he closed his eyes, concentrating on every breath before they finally halted.
"Pocket, Lydia. Pocket-"
She cried, throwing herself over his body, resting her head on his chest, not truly knowing if she'd make it any longer. She kept screaming I love you, I love you, please, I love you until her voice was stuck in her throat and she was pulled away by Scott.
The Alpha pack was destroyed, Deucalion had fallen, but no one cared, really.
The remainders of his pack stood alone, almost as if their work wasn't finished. They heard the slow footsteps of a woman, creeping her way toward the bloodied battle grounds.
"Nice work, Aiden," Jennifer told him, "the ultimate sacrifice. Who would've known it would be our Stiles?"
She crouched beside him, running her fingers along his neck.
"Don't touch him!" Lydia screamed, writhing in Scott's arms.
"Aw, Lydia. Didn't know you had a little crush. So sorry. I could easily make you his Juliet so you can see your boyfriend in heaven, huh?"
She stood, feeling so incredibly defenseless and pathetic. Stiles's earlier words suddenly made reappearance in her head- pocket. Pocket.
She flung herself out of Scott's arms and to Stiles's body, opening his jacket to retrieve what looked like a knife. Without thinking, she threw it at Jennifer with what little strength she had left.
Her face immediately took shape as the terrifying Darach as it entered her, her breaking apart into hundreds of pieces.
"Mistletoe," Peter mumbled, and the rest of the group stood in shock and awe.
Lydia stood, nearly broken with the boy next to her who had the answer all along.
She leaned down next to him once more, kissing him on the head.
"You're really smart."