Summary: Lydia learns startling information about her grandmother, which connects her to the deadpool. And as number two on the list, will Lydia's life be in danger?

Based on episode 4x08

Music: Somebody To Die For by Hurts

Chapter 10: Somebody To Die For

Lydia and Kira were eating pizza at Lydia's house the day after the PSAT's. After Malia saw her true last name on the Deadpool, she was avoiding the entire pack, especially Stiles. Kira asked to spend time with Lydia so Scott could feel free to hang out with Stiles and keep his mind off Malia.

"So," Kira said, before popping a pepperoni in her mouth. "Who's this deputy you've been spending so much time with?"

Lydia bit her lip and pretended to be ignorant. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on," she smirked. "Malia's been telling me all about it. The rides home, the looks, the chemosignals…"

"Chemosignals?" Lydia laughed nervously. "Now I know you're both insane."

Kira took another bite of pizza before speaking again. "Malia could smell the 'romance' in the car when he drove you guys home," Kira said with a smile.

"From which one of us?" Lydia asked anxiously.

Kira laughed. "Both. At least that's what she said."

"So he does like me?" She couldn't help but smile.

"I knew it!" Kira nearly jumped out of her seat. "I knew there was something going on."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Nothing's going to come of it. I mean…I doubt he really likes me. Malia probably smelled it wrong."

Kira smirked. "You mean she probably couldn't tell if she was smelling all of it coming from you instead?"

"Oh gosh," Lydia slouched back into the couch.

After Kira set her plate down, she looked at Lydia. "I was just teasing. Malia definitely smelled it on him. A lot."

"What should I do?" Lydia asked. She normally would be the one giving boy advice, but Jordan was nothing like the boys she was used to dating. He wasn't even a boy; he was a man with goals and a respectable profession.

Kira looked at her and furrowed her brows. "I don't know," she paused, "but don't try to force it. Just let it happen."

Lydia nodded and finished off her slice of pizza. "Hey, I need to go to the lake house to follow up on a picture I found in Meredith's things. You wanna come?"

"I'd love to," Kira said, "but after yesterday Mom's even more anxious about my safety than usual. She wants me home in like thirty minutes."

"No worries," Lydia said. "I'll be fine on my own."

Jordan was interrupted from his paperwork by a phone call. "Deputy Parrish. What can I do for you?"

"Hi, um, this is Lydia's friend Kira. I'm worried about her and I thought maybe you could help?"

He sat up straighter at this and his heart started racing. "What's wrong? Is she okay?"

"I don't know," Kira said. "She said she needed to go to the lake house, but I couldn't go with her, so she went alone." There was a short pause on the other end of the line. "After everything that's happened recently, I don't think she should be alone like that. I don't want anything bad to happen to her."

"Neither do I," Jordan replied. "I'll head over there right now to check on her."

Lydia heard the floorboards of the boathouse creaking behind her. She slowly reached beside her and grabbed an oar before whipping around to face her assailant. When she swung the oar towards the person, she screamed at the sight of them and dropped the oar.

"Mom!" Lydia gasped for air. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, what are you doing here?" Natalie asked.

Lydia hesitated. "How did you even know I was here? Did you follow me?"

"No, I'm getting ready for the open house…tomorrow."

With a raised eyebrow, Lydia folded her arms across her chest. "The open house is next week."

"Okay," Natalie admitted. "I followed you. Kira told me where you went." Lydia scoffed and turned away. "Honey, you come up here every weekend, sometimes even during the week. And as far as I can tell, there's not a boy involved so I really have no clue what you're up to."

"I'm trying to figure something out," Lydia replied. "Something important. And honestly, Mom, you don't need to be involved in every single detail of my life."

"No," Natalie said in a firm but loving voice. "But I'd like to help if I can."

Lydia bit her lip and shifted uncomfortably. Should I let her help? She doesn't even know about the supernatural…but maybe she knows about Meredith.

With a sigh she grabbed the photograph of Meredith in the study from her purse. She held it out to her mom and asked, "Do you know her?"

Natalie looked at the photo curiously before glancing back at Lydia. "Meredith Walker?"

Lydia raised an eyebrow at her mother as Natalie walked over to a locked, wooden cupboard. She opened it, grabbed a small silver urn, and turned to face Lydia. "These are your grandmother's ashes."

Unsure of the connection, Lydia hesitated before realizing why her mom was mentioning it. "Grandma died in Eichen House," she said slowly.

"Your father had a difficult relationship with his mother," Natalie said. "But after the things she said, and the way she acted…"

"He thought she was crazy."

"Well," Natalie began, "she said she heard things."

Lydia glanced away and struggled not to cry. Grandma was a banshee…like me.

She changed the subject. "Why did she want her ashes in here?" Lydia asked as she looked around the old boathouse.

"Well, actually, she didn't. She left instructions to have them spread across the lake."

Lydia looked across the water and furrowed her brows. "How come you haven't done it?"

Natalie smiled softly. "Because she wanted you to do it…when you turned eighteen. Don't ask me why." She cleared her throat. "But since there's only a few weeks till that, I suppose now is as good a time as any."

Lydia took the urn from her mother's hands and wrapped her fingers around the lid to unscrew it. She closed her eyes and opened the lid before slowly cracking them back open again. When she looked inside the urn she froze. "Mom, these aren't Grandma's ashes," she said in barely more than a whisper.

"What do you mean? Of course they are." Natalie looked at her in confusion.

"No," Lydia said as she reached into the urn and scooped up a handful. "It's Mountain Ash."

On a hunch, Lydia threw the handful of ash towards the edge of the boat dock. The ashes aligned on the wooden frame as she suspected. "The whole building. It's all made of Mountain Ash."

Lydia walked over to the small workbench and leaned against it as Natalie grabbed a box of papers and set it down beside her. "This was the last thing your grandmother wrote down before she died. Don't even know why I kept it because it's basically nonsense."

Glancing over the slip of paper, Lydia felt suddenly faint and whispered, "Are you absolutely sure Grandma's dead?"

Natalie looked at her anxiously. "Yes. I mean…she has to be."

"This isn't nonsense, Mom. It's code."

After a minute of awkward silence, Natalie spoke up. "I need to get home…we both do," she said slowly. "Maybe everything will be clearer in the morning."

Lydia nodded without looking up from the slip of paper. "You go on. I need to finish what I started."

When she finally looked up, she saw the concerned look on her mother's face. "Mom, I'm fine. I'll be out of here right after you leave."

Not looking entirely convinced, Natalie agreed anyway. "Just be quick. I don't want you to be out here all by yourself."

Once Natalie left, Lydia put the urn of Mountain Ash back in the cupboard and gathered the papers she wanted to take home with her. She heard someone approaching her from behind and let out an exasperated sigh. "Mom, go home. I'm fine."

"Not for long."

She felt a hand clasp over her mouth and the cold tip of a gun press against her jawline. Lydia tried to scream and break free, but it was no use.

Jordan pulled up to the Martins' lake house and saw Lydia's car parked in the drive. Well, at least I know she's here…or was anyway. He shook the thought from his head. Knock it off, Jordan; I'm sure she's okay. She has to be.

He drew his gun for good measure and entered the house. The front door was closed but unlocked and most of the interior lights were switched off. He walked into the living room and froze when he saw the floor. There were splatters of blood across the carpet leading towards the den in the back of the house. He cocked his gun and crept closer to the trail of red stains. Jordan heard a low noise coming from the neighboring room. Gun in hand, he rushed around the corner and flipped on the lights.

"Lydia?"

The strawberry blonde was tied to one of the dining room chairs with zip-ties and had a large strip of duct tape across her mouth. She was crying silently, the mascara smeared around her eyes and tears streamed down her face. When she turned towards him, the sight of her teary eyes and blood running down her cheek made him clench his teeth and curl his hands into fists.

A shadowy figure and the sound of sloshing liquid made him look up. He cursed at the sight of a man outside the window who appeared to be pouring gasoline on the house. Oh my gosh, I have to get her out of here. He's going to burn the house down!

Jordan removed the duct tape as gently and quickly as possible and wiped the tears from her face. He pulled a knife from his utility belt and began cutting at the plastic cords. Just as he finished cutting the last tie, he heard Lydia whimper, "Jordan, look out!"

Whipping around, he aimed his gun at the assassin. He slowly stood as he watched the man in front of him, who appeared to be unarmed spare a canister of gasoline in one hand. The man pulled out a lighter and flicked it on in front of him. A sinister smile lit up his face behind the flame. "Deputy Jordan Parrish," he taunted. "You know, I wouldn't fire that gun if I were you…what with all this gasoline around you."

Jordan lowered his gun and scowled at the man. "What makes you think you'll get away with this? Killing an innocent girl?"

The man stepped closer and Jordan moved between him and Lydia. "Well you see, Deputy, she's worth a lot of money to me dead: twenty million the list says. Now, I know better than to go for the twenty-five million dollar Alpha. But a poor, defenseless, little girl?" He released a laugh that made Jordan's stomach churn. "I figured it was worth a shot."

As soon as the words were out of the man's mouth, Jordan made a move for the lighter and twisted the assassin's arm behind him. He swiftly pinned both hands behind the man's back and handcuffed him before radioing for backup. Deputies Haigh and Ramirez arrived within five minutes and walked the man out to the squad car, taking him to the holding cell at the Sheriff's Station.

Now alone in the house once again, Jordan turned his full attention to Lydia, who was still sitting in the chair. He knelt down beside her, placing a hand on top of hers. She was shaking and crying; her eyes were distant like she was in a dream. "Lydia?"

No response. He placed both hands on her shoulders and gave them a slight squeeze. "Lydia, look at me. Are you alright?"

Her eyes finally focused on him and he sighed in relief. "Are you okay?"

She nodded slowly and moved to stand. He supported her by the elbow as she stood up and watched her carefully. "Parrish, I – I," Lydia started to collapse. He caught her as she fainted and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her out to his car.

Jordan drove her home and, upon arrival, rang the doorbell before moving the still passed out Lydia from his car. Natalie answered the door with a sense of relief and concern. "Have you seen my daughter? I've been trying to reach her, but she hasn't been answering her phone."

He gestured with his open hands in a soothing motion. "She's fine, Ms. Martin. Lydia is in the back of my car. It's a long story, one that I'm sure you'd rather hear from her, but she's fainted."

Jordan picked Lydia up and carried her inside the house. Natalie instructed him to take Lydia to her bedroom and set her down. Doing as he was told, Jordan laid her down on her bed and pulled the covers up over her. He smiled softly at the peaceful expression on her face.

When he walked downstairs, Natalie was waiting for him in the living room. He smiled at her. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Deputy Jordan Parrish," he said.

She managed a smile and shook his hand. "I'm Natalie Martin," she paused. "Thank you so much for looking out for my daughter." Her expression grew more serious. "I worry about her a lot. It's good to know someone else is watching out for her too."

"Of course," Jordan replied. "It's my job. And honestly," he hesitated, "your daughter's an amazing young woman. I'm honored to be able to spend time around her."

Natalie smiled. "Well, would you like some coffee for the road?"

"I'd love some," he beamed.

She walked into the kitchen before calling out to him, "How do you take it?"

"Black."