It's later that day when Lydia really starts to analyse the ache in her throat and the pain behind her eyes. It's after she tells the stranger in her bed to leave in the early hours of the morning because she felt so sure she was going to scream. She doesn't want to ever explain that to someone, she doesn't want it to happen here, in College. Lydia had worked hard to be someone different and now that could change within a day.
Lydia starts to fear the scream being the impending death of Kira. She dares to think, for a split second. What if Kira is out in the desert being slaughtered by the women she sought refuge in? Or what if something animal and inhuman came and attacked her? Lydia shivers, she doesn't like to think of losing anyone else she loves. She's lost so many people, Jackson, Allison and Aiden. Not to mention the way her and her mom have drifted since the first semester. Wouldn't it feel different if it were Kira who was going to die? When she felt the impending death of Allison it felt so heavy on her heart she could tell it was her body already mourning her. This just feels like someone is about to die near by. She decides she will not scream, because once she does Peter Hale gets the satisfaction of ruining her College education as well as her High School education. She will push the feeling down, and compress it and lock it away in the darkest corner of herself.
Her phone buzzes while she's sipping coffee and watching a documentary on 'Selective Breeding'. She expects it to be a text from Stiles, but it's from Malia. They've spoke a few times since leaving but it seems Malia is happy with Derek and hasn't felt the need to look back on her past and friends. It reads, Guess who's half hour away from Stanford College? Wanna grab some lunch and catch up?
Lydia smiles instinctively. She hasn't even seen Stiles and Scott since leaving, sure they've skyped and such but she hasn't seen them in the flesh and bone for a quarter of the year. Lydia almost forgot what it's like to hear their voices, or to see a familiar face from home.
She replies, That sounds great. Let me know when you're here and I'll show you my apartment.
Lydia suddenly forgets about the boy she slept with last night and forgets about the knot in her stomach and the throb in her throat. She sets off to get ready, checking her phone every few minutes to see if Stiles has text her yet. It's 2pm and she wonders if he's still in bed, hungover or if he too is getting ready to go out. She dresses in a blue and pink striped top and tight, skinny jeans with a pair of suede ankle boots. She curls her hair and dabs on lip gloss and mascara. She wants to make Malia believe that she isn't consumed by the heartache of not seeing Stiles in a long time. She wants Malia to believe she's forgotten about every physical and mental scar she has. She wants Malia to believe that she's actually happy here because Lydia isn't so sure she is.
As soon as Lydia sits down to drop a text to Stiles she hears the buzzer ring in the hall of the flat, abandoning her phone at her desk she goes to answer it. It's Malia so she lets her up.
"Hey," She says when she answer the door. Malia wears a denim jacket over her shorts and boots. She looks healthy, her hair slightly bleached from the sun and her skin tanned, she looks happy. Probably more happy than Lydia.
"Come in." Lydia welcomes her, her smile comes naturally and she steps aside to allow her to come through. Lydia wonders why she was headed into Stanford and if she's here for a reason.
"So, how's College life treating you?" Malia asks her as they walk down the hall, Lydia brings her into her room and gestures with her hand.
"It's hard, and requires a lot of energy but it's fun. This is my bedroom." She adds, Malia nods and Lydia leads her to the kitchen. Where a hungover Amelia and Conrad sit and eat lucky charms out of the box.
"Who's the girl?" Conrad asks, his voice is raspy from alcohol and Malia smiles at him.
"Malia, she's one of my closest friends from home." Lydia explains, Malia waves and Conrad and Amelia nod, still too tired and intoxicated from the night before. "Come on, I know an Italian diner a few blocks away."
It doesn't take them long to get there, and they talk non-stop about how their lives are going. Malia has so far taken out a Kanima, a cult of witches and a pack of Wendigo's. Lydia tells her about her Tuesday, Friday and Saturday nights although leaving out what they consist of. Compared to Malia's life Lydia feels like she does nothing, like she's a very boring person with a shit social life. They sit and both order a pasta dish, then Lydia raises the question that's been bugging her.
"So, without sounding rude, why are you here?"
"I was passing," She replies softly, she sips her drink and smiles at Lydia, "Me and Derek were coming out of Berkeley."
"Where is Derek?" Lydia fiddles with a loose thread on her shirt, she knows Malia isn't telling her something but she isn't sure she wants to know what despite her curiosity.
Malia thinks for a moment, "He's coming back later I think he's going to see Scott and Stiles at San Jose."
"Have you seen Scott and Stiles?"
She nods her head. "A few times." Lydia can't help the jealousy that spurs through her chest and travels down to her toes. How have they made time for Malia but not her? "They miss you."
"I miss them." She admits, because she does. Despite the thick layer of love Lydia has for Sties she misses both of them as her friends. She misses familiarity. She fears that Malia can sense her mood, she doesn't want her to think she's getting catty over her two boys. Especially when the girl in front of her dated one of them. After all, they are all a pack.
"Have you spoke to them lately-"
"Did they ask you to come here today?" Lydia sighs. She can't help herself, it's been itching at her for an hour now. As much as she loves Malia the two aren't a 'hang-out' type. The most they ever hung out in High School was to kill the enemy or to help her with math.
"Why would they? Wouldn't they do it themselves?" Malia questions, Lydia almost believes it. She can just see through her acting, she fears that something is wrong, that what she believed about Kira may of come true and Malia is here to break it to her.
"Malia, please tell me the truth. I know they worry but what is there to worry about right now?" She tries to sound casual but her voice comes out shrill. She silently scolds herself for it and tries to loosen her muscles that are rigid.
"Lydia, they worry about you, yes, but-"
"Malia-"
"Fine." She's silent and takes in a deep breath, "They just wanted me to check in on you, okay?"
"But why?" Lydia was panicking slightly now, what if something was happening and they were trying to make Lydia stay out of it?
"You barely talk to them. Not to mention you haven't visited them or Beacon Hills." Malia sighs and Lydia feels bad that she made her confess. After all she's the spy but Scott and Stiles are the culprit.
"It's just- It's different here. People don't recognize me as the girl who constantly goes into fugue states, or who's friends die or leave. Here I'm Lydia Martin, the girl who can solve a linear equation in two seconds."
"I know, that's why I didn't do College. I can't run or hide from what I am, I can only embrace it." She tells Lydia smiling. Lydia smiles back at her realizing that what Malia is saying is true. There's never going to be a moment in time where Lydia won't be a banshee again. She stuck with it, a baggage. Unless she accepts it with open arms.
"Do you enjoy what you do with Derek?"
"It can be tough, physically but it's nice to travel. Do you enjoy it here?" She asks, the waitress appears with their food and a refill of their drinks.
"I enjoy the education I get. But socially..." Lydia sucks in a breath and shakes her head. She twirls the pasta on her fork and puts it into her mouth, buying herself time before Malia asks about how lost she feels without Stiles.
"I can smell your lust, and I have my doubts that it's toward me." Malia quirks an eyebrow at the banshee and Lydia immediately flushes, the heat rushes in her ears. Lydia takes a sip of her drink, she hasn't admitted her feelings to herself let alone anyone else.
"It's Stiles," Lydia admits, she blows out a puff of air and takes another bite from her food. Something inside her chest is stirring even speaking his name allowed seems so sacred, like she shouldn't be admitting this.
"Elaborate."
"I think I love him," She admits. It hits her then, she's just confessed what had been bouncing around in her skull for who knows how long. It was something taboo to her because she didn't want to admit it to herself and she just had. It was everything right in the world and everything wrong. A benediction. A malediction. "And, God, I can't stop thinking of him."
"Thank god you admitted it." Malia smiles, like she actually wants Stiles and Lydia to work out despite their past relationship. But Malia always knew Stiles loved Lydia, how horrible, Lydia thought, for your boyfriend to love another girl. "Does he know?"
"No, I wish he did though."
"Tell him, Lydia."
"I will one day," Lydia says, her voice suddenly sounding sad. She smiles however, and puts her fork down and pushes the plate away from her. Malia does the same and they both drink at the same time.
"So, how do you deal with that?"
"Honestly? I have meaningless sex," Lydia laughs at herself, how pathetic she feels now she declared that to someone who thinks highly of her, Malia looks sad that that's how she treats herself so she looks out the window to her side. "And I regret it every time."
"I'm sorry you feel that way."
"It's my choice. Nothing to feel bad for."
There's an uncomfortable silence between the two. Lydia shivers at the thought of who she slept with last night. How she presses her story into a drunken boys skin and screams at love in their ear. She whispers the name of a boy into a nameless face.
"So, supernaturally how have you been feeling?" She changes the subject completely, which Lydia is thankful for. Although there isn't much relief in talking about the supernatural. She considers talking to Malia about how she's been feeling, she decides she might be able to offer her advice.
"I woke up this morning with this... ache in my throat." Malia blinks at her. "It felt like I was going to scream, Malia."
"Shit, Lydia." She sighs and rubs her temple, Lydia fears she's just caused her unnecessary stress and wishes she hadn't mentioned it.
"It's gone now, though!" She rushes to amend but now she's thinking of it again the dry, dull throb is making a reappearance so she swallows thickly trying to ignore it. She realizes then she's taking a piece of advice from Stiles' handbook, running away from your problem until it goes away. What if the only way to get rid of it is to scream?
"You should tell Scott, you know?"
"I don't want him to worry."
"Lydia, we'll always worry about you. We're pack." Malia smiles.
"I know and maybe I will." She sighs and looks out the window and at the passersby. She ponders on how it had to be her life that was so complicated and how that man walking outside with the retro sunglasses probably doesn't have a care in the world. Why are certain people entrusted with saving humanity than others?
"What do you think it is?"
"I'm scared it's Kira. None of us have even heard from her since forever." Lydia sighs. Malia nods but doesn't say anything like she isn't sure what to say without sounding like an optimist or a pessimist.
"I'm sure she's fine. It might just be someone in that retirement home a couple blocks away, or a suicide."
"If it's a suicide then I want to stop it."
"What I'm saying is that I doubt it's supernatural. Not here anyway, nothing happens in San Fran." Malia corrects herself, her stare intense compared to Lydia's. Lydia doesn't believe her but neither does she have the energy to argue against it. So she allows it.
"Yeah, you could be right." She becomes aware of the fact how better she might feel if she did believe it, or if she even considered it. But Lydia knew what it felt like to have the prickly feeling of fear of something supernatural a few steps behind her, and she didn't doubt that this is a supernatural crisis they may be dealing with. So her and Malia pay then leave, after that Lydia shows campus to Malia. She has a wave of nostalgia at that point, when she realizes she's never shown her campus to anyone because no-ones visited. It's then when she realizes how her and Allison can never be College students together.
"So, where are you off to after this?" Lydia asks her as they wait by the Golden Gate Bridge where Derek promised to pick Malia up. The breeze tickles Lydia's skin, it feels nice to be comfortable with someone who knows all her secrets. She's never felt this safe with Amelia or Conrad.
"We're going to Sacramento, according to Derek there's an Abaasy in town."
"Abaasy?"
"Some demonic creature that likes to kill people, basically." Lydia can't help the small giggle that comes from her mouth, taking out of context Lydia finds it funny that two almost-adults are talking about the supernatural.
"Is it dangerous?"
"We're all dangerous, Lydia." Malia turns to her then and Lydia understands. Nothing supernatural is safe, their pack may have good intentions but that doesn't mean every Werewolf and Banshee has good intentions.
"Stay safe, then." Lydia smiles at her. Sometimes she fears that Malia is all she really has left, girlfriend wise. Kira's gone. Allison's gone. Hayden's still in school. It's like everything she loves turns to dust around her. It takes another few minutes for Derek to show, they travel in a black Toyota Hybrid with blackened out windows. Lydia doesn't see Derek's face which she's secretly disappointed with but she waves them off after hugging Malia goodbye.
She speculates when the when the next time she'll see Malia, or when she see's someone from home. Home. It seems like a thousand miles away yet she can still smell, taste and hear her home town as if she were there. Her heart becomes heavy at the thought of it, there really was no escaping her past. She takes a slow walk back to her place, taking the long routes and assimilating in the orange sky as the evening draws into night time. The lights dance against the sky and Lydia reminds herself of how much she loves it here, how she doesn't miss home and how she's not Lydia Banshee Martin instead she Lydia Camille-Grace Martin the girl who majors in math. She's happy here. No death, no tragedy and no scars. No Stiles.
But how is it her heart collapses every time she thinks of him?
Lydia wishes she was spontaneous in that moment, wish she'd just catch a bus to San Jose and surprise Scott and Stiles. Or she wishes she could allow her dream of Stanford to slip through her fingers and go to San Jose State University instead. But she can't. She's tied to her dream she's had since forever. She can't even let go of her dream for the boy she claims to love. Or can she?
It takes Lydia a while to realize she's completely detoured from her way home, so she turns around and begins to walk the way she knows, trying to block her mind from thinking of Stiles.
Then it feels like icy hands running up her spine and onto her neck, then the fingers are teasing her neck. Except there is no hand or fingers. This is all internal. The ache returns but this time it's so painful Lydia can't swallow it down and ignore it, she isn't so sure she won't scream this time. She tries to think of the best place to go. She's twenty minutes away from her apartment and in the middle of a bustling street. There's no way in hell she's going to allow herself to scream in front of all these people, she'll be done for good then. She'll be locked way in Eichen for the rest of her life, no degree, no pack, no Stiles. She spots a clearing up ahead, about a seven minute journey, if she makes it there she can scream out in the wilderness. Barely anyone would hear her then.
She walks determinedly through the crowd of people, she mutters 'Sorry' as she passes and occasionally knocks peoples shoulders but she doesn't care. She feels like she's going to wrench or heave or gag and all she can think about is what it signifies. Someones going to die. What if it's Stiles? What if all this time it was Stiles. But no, no Derek was with him today. Her mind's racing. She neared the clearing, the tall dark trees loomed over her and Lydia almost felt intimidated. She reached the muddy ground and the first line of trees, she looked back, still cars passed and people strode by, there was no way she wasn't going to be heard. So she ran.
Her feet kissed the muddy, uneven ground as something dared to escape her throat. Not here, not here, she thought, at least not yet. She was like an eagle soaring across indigo skies and a herd of cheetahs racing through verdant meadows and she couldn't stop her legs now. The wind stung her skin and eyes but still she ran, until she collapsed because her body couldn't do it anymore. Her hair that was now matted and wind-swept fell around her face just as her knees skidded against the ground. The mud made her wet and cold, the brown staining the denim of her jeans. She was crying now, tears making her cheeks colder and her sobs echoing throughout the greenery.
She looked up at the green branches that were stopping the leaks of sunlight from passing, almost like she was looking to God, "Please." She whispered, she doesn't want this anymore, but she opened her mouth and it was too late. She screams loud and clear into the dark abyss of the forest.