Omg emotions made this happen
Disclaimer: If i owned teen wolf i wouldnt have killed her
Lydia has never before attempted to describe her banshee powers, to herself or anyone else. She usually tries not to think about it.
But now she knows for certain what they feel like.
They feel like dying.
Every time she senses a death, she doesn't just feel it in a 'someone is dying' way, she feels it like she is the one who is drowing, or has been hit by a car, or pushed down a set of stairs.
She feels the blood, and the broken bones, and the gashes tearing people open and spilling their insides onto cold, unforgiving concrete.
And now, more than ever, she wishes she didn't feel that, because she can feel Allison dying above ground, above where she is crouched over Stiles as he struggles to stay conscious, and she feels like there is a phantom sword forced through her middle too.
She can feel Allison gasping for breath as she lies in Scott's arms, surrounded by a pool of her own blood, desperately trying to press it back in with shaking, weak fingers.
And she feels the exact moment that Allison accepts it, because the pain stops. Not the mental pain, that will never stop, Lydia knows that, but the physical pain stops, and she feels Allison's breathing slow, her heartbeat ticking slower as she goes limp in her first love's embrace.
So she screams. The scream is part power, an outlet for the death swirling in her gut, and part pain, grief and desperation for her best friend mixing into a shrill tempest of agony in the narrow passage way.
And then she feels Allison die. She just slips away in the night, and Lydia's senses quiet down to a buzz in the back of her skull that she knows she will hear for days.
But the pain doesn't stop, because she can feel the beginnings of a scream building in the back of her throat for Stiles, the pale, lax figure that she is perched near, her forehead against his collarbone. She can feel how cold he is, she can almost feel the drain that leads to the Nogitsune, a trail of power that comes straight from Stiles as he shivers in her arms.
She sits in the narrow passage, with the death of one friend weighing on her, and the beginnings of another's dragging at the edges of her mind.
And she does the only thing she can do.
She gets up, hauls Stiles upright, and makes her way to the surface, stumbling under the weight of his tall, lean body, falling slack against her petite frame.
Because she has lost one friend tonight. She will not lose another.
She can't.
