"LYDIA!"
Stiles screamed her name, all but throwing himself across the room to where the strawberry blonde lay. She was bruised, and broken, and blood all but gushed out of her side.
She was dying.
It happened so fast. They were ambushed, but none of them had the forethought to realize it was all just a distraction. While Scott and the pack were fighting off five trained assassins, one snuck into the back.
They were distracted. They weren't looking for her, because they thought she was safe.
Now, she was dying.
Stiles scooped her into his arms, clutching her to his chest. "C'mon, Lydia! You can't - you can't do this!" He brought one hand to her jaw, fingers moving over her cheeks. She had to wake up. She had to live. He couldn't watch the girl he'd loved since the third grade die in his arms. Not after everything they'd been through together.
After a few seconds, her eyes slowly fluttered open. Stiles breathed a sigh of relief, a smile spreading across his lips.
"Stiles," she breathed, her voice raspy. A cough caught in her throat, and she cried out at the way her body shook from the force of it. There was a deep cut in her side, a cut that would undoubtedly prove fatal.
He couldn't admit it, but she could. She was going to die.
"Stiles, look at me."
He wanted to look away. He wanted to pretend this wasn't happening, to stare adamantly at the opposite wall as if it would somehow keep her there. She wanted to say her goodbyes, and he couldn't hear it. He couldn't accept the fact the Lydia Martin could just… stop existing. "Don't do it. Don't try to say goodbye."
Lydia offered him her best attempt at a smile, one trembling hand lifting to touch his cheek gently. "I need to tell you something. I need you to listen." She paused, drawing a shallow breath. "I'm going to die." He tried to cut her off, but she held a finger to his lips, silencing him. "It's too much, Stiles. Scott can't save me. I've been bitten before, remember?"
She couldn't be turned. She couldn't survive this. In minutes, she would be dead.
Lydia gave him just a few seconds to realize she was right, before she pressed on. She didn't have much time. She could feel her own death creeping upon her.
"I love you."
She never planned to tell him under such conditions, but she didn't have a choice. She had to tell him. She needed him to know.
"I've loved you for awhile." Lydia paused, a tiny smile forming on her lips at the incredulous look on his face. "I didn't - I didn't want to mess up what you had with Malia, because I know she makes you happy. I wanted to wait. I wanted to tell you when I earned you, because I didn't know how to make up for years of pretending you didn't exist." She took another ragged breath, trying to hold on just a few seconds longer. Her thoughts were constant pleas for just a little more time; just enough time to make sure he knew. "I love you, Stiles. Maybe in some other life, we would have had a chance to be together. I would have been a very lucky girl. I'm lucky to have loved you at all."
Her voice grew weak, and Lydia dropped her hand to the side. It wouldn't be much longer. She could feel her own life starting to slip away, the world going fuzzy at the edges.
It took several seconds for Stiles to pull himself together enough to say anything. He had never dreamed the Lydia Martin would return his feelings. He definitely never dreamed she would confess those feelings while on the very brink of death.
"I love you, Lydia Martin." He shook his head, tears rolling down his cheeks. She wanted to wipe them away, but she couldn't. He seemed so far away. "It's always been you for me." He paused, a sob catching in his throat. "It's always gonna be you for me."
She wanted to reply. She wanted to tell him to move on, to be with the person who made him happy, to love another as much he loved her. She wanted to set him free.
Unfortunately, she couldn't. She was too weak. Lydia just managed a small nod of her head before that sinking, earth-shattering, utterly broken feeling covered her completely.
Her eyes closed for the final time a moment later.
Lydia Martin was gone. She had taken her final breath in his arms, and she was gone.
This time, when a piercing scream filled the air, it didn't come from a banshee - his strawberry blonde banshee.
It came from Stiles.