Hi wolflets. Anyone as scared as I am by that mid-season trailer? After last season I'm so not ready for any of this. Anyway. Thanks for all the reviews, guys. Be prepared to be mad at/feel sorry for everyone in turns during this story, but stick with me because I promise it's all leading up to something. And I'm trying to keep everyone in character, so they do have reasons for how they're acting - and don't worry, they'll get called out for it. So this story will have drama, angst, and my usual level of blood and violence, so I hope it has something for everyone. As always, reviews are more than welcome, as are prompts, so don't be scared to let me know what you think. Enjoy (?) the chapter.

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It's alarming how quickly this has become a routine. Lydia's lost count of the times it's happened, although she knows it's been at least twice a week since they defeated the nogitsune. It's such a regular occurrence that she's not even surprised when she opens her eyes and finds herself in the middle of the cemetery rather than tucked away in bed at home. She remembers going home after the fight, and she remembers getting ready for bed. And although she'd rather not, she also remembers taking off her shirt only to find a gash running down her side, from the bottom of her ribs to the top of her hip. She can't pinpoint exactly when she got it, but it had definitely been during the fight. And god, it stings.

But she's used to pain by now, as well as mind-numbing terror and mortal danger, so she'd just cleaned it up and gone to bed. And now she's standing in the graveyard, in her pajamas, and she can't remember getting here. The wound on her side is throbbing, but she ignores that as she looks around the cemetery. Although she's sure she's alone, it feels almost like there's someone watching her. It's dark, but the sky on the horizon is lightening, like it's close to dawn.

Her mind flashes back to a moment just like this, before she'd even really become aware of her banshee powers. She'd been sleepwalking and woken up on the side of the road, and she'd done the first thing she could think of – she'd called Allison. And Allison, bless her heart, had shown up not more than two minutes later and picked her up, no questions asked. Lydia had talked to her a lot that night, about how confusing and terrifying it all was, because she'd had no idea what was going on. Allison had comforted her, and one of the things she'd said had stuck with her.

It's always darkest before dawn.

Scientifically speaking, she's not sure of the validity of the statement. But as a metaphor it's proven useful, especially after everything that's happened. It can't always be this dark, so she has to hope it will get brighter at some point. She just doesn't know when.

With a resigned sigh, she starts to pick her way around the tombstones and out of the graveyard. She doesn't know why she keeps turning up here, because as yet she hasn't found a body. And she hasn't screamed, so it's not like anybody's died – well, not recently, anyway. She hasn't told anyone about these late-night wanderings, either. Or at least she hasn't since the first couple, when she'd genuinely been panicked and called Kira to come pick her up.

Kira had come, of course, but then she'd insisted on staying the night with her and making sure she was okay. Then she'd wanted to tell Scott, which Lydia really didn't want to do; he had enough on his plate already without having to worry about her wandering off in the night. So gradually she'd stopped calling Kira, and there was no one else she could really call. She wasn't that close to Ethan or Isaac, she didn't have Allison or even Aiden anymore, and Stiles… well, that ship had sailed a long time ago. She doesn't even know how to talk to him anymore; not that it matters, because he's always with Malia anyway.

It takes Lydia almost half an hour to walk home, so by the time she gets there it's already time to start getting ready for school. It's beautiful at this time of day, which is small consolation for the inconvenience of having to walk through town in her pajamas in the way-too-early hours of the morning. She'd seen the sun rise, but it hadn't filled her with the same kind of peace it used to. It doesn't bring promises of a new day or fresh hope or anything like that; instead it's just another day to get through before she can curl up in her bed and wish the world away. And hope that she doesn't wake up in the cemetery again.

When she shows up at school, she's relieved to see Kira standing by her locker. Her ankle is bandaged, the tips of it poking out above her socks, but it doesn't seem to be causing her much pain. Isaac is beside her, and they stop talking when Lydia comes up to them.

"Well?" she asks, and she doesn't need to elaborate for them to know what she's getting at.

"They're gone," Isaac tells her. "Derek and Peter are tracking them, and they said that they crossed county lines this morning. We shouldn't be hearing from them again."

"Thank god." Lydia leans against the locker, letting out a slow breath and feeling some of the weight lift from her shoulders. Some, but not enough. For a second she debates telling them about waking up in the cemetery again, but that will just bring more questions and concern and everything else that she doesn't want to deal with at the moment. Besides, they've earned a break; she should let them enjoy their victory.

For the rest of the morning Lydia lets herself gets immersed in her schoolwork. It had taken her a while to get back into it, and she'd come dangerously close to failing a couple of tests just after Allison had died. But the teachers had been understanding and allowed her to retake them, and she'd managed to bring her grades back up to almost as good as they were before all this. Now school is more than a distraction – it's the only reason she gets up in the morning. Everyone else has their reasons for waking up and going about their days – Scott has Kira, Stiles has Malia, Ethan's working things out with Danny, and Isaac's been training with Mr Argent. And all Lydia has are nightmares, sleepwalking, and, now, school.

Instinctively she sits by herself at lunch, studying for the History test that's coming up. She's only just started chapter two when someone nudges her pile of books away and sits down beside her. She looks up to see Stiles sliding into the seat beside her, and Malia sitting down across from him. Soon enough the rest of the pack joins them, and Lydia reluctantly tucks her books back into her bag and makes a show of being interested in whatever it is they're talking about.

Predictably, they're talking about last night.

"You're sure you're okay?" Scott is asking Kira.

"For the last time, Scott, I'm fine," she says. "The doctor says that it's only a sprain. Nothing's broken, I promise."

Scott's expression softens and he visibly relaxes, turning his attention to the rest of the pack. "Malia, how about you?"

Halfway through unwrapping a ham and cheese sandwich, Malia looks up. "What about me?"

There's a glint of surprise in her eyes, like she's still not used to being addressed directly. It's reminiscent of the look she gets when she's called on to answer questions in class; Lydia usually steps in with the answer at that point, to deflect attention away from her pack mate. She doesn't know if Malia is grateful or annoyed, but she hasn't said anything so Lydia figures she may as well keep it up.

"You got hurt last night," Scott reminds her, and Lydia looks over at the werecoyote, surprised; she hadn't noticed that she was hurt. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Malia lifts up her shirt, and Lydia can only hope that it's because there used to be some kind of wound on her stomach. Because otherwise she's just a show-off, and Lydia doesn't think she can stomach seeing her and Stiles all over each other in the middle of the cafeteria.

Stiles' face goes red and he tugs Malia's shirt back down. "We're in public," he admonishes gently.

"So?" She raises her eyebrows, looking around the cafeteria. Her gaze returns to Stiles, a question still swimming in her eyes.

"So we don't go taking our clothes off in public," Stiles says patiently, in a voice that makes it clear they've had this conversation before.

Malia mumbles something too low for them to hear, but she doesn't argue the point further. Seemingly satisfied that the werecoyote is okay, Scott turns his attention to Lydia. She really, really wishes he hadn't. For one thing, the werewolves in the group – and Malia, come to think of it – can probably smell her blood and know she's hurt. And for another, they'll be able to tell if she's lying. But he doesn't ask her if she's okay.

"Did you make it home okay?" Scott asks her.

Lydia feels her heart skip a beat, but she makes an effort to steady it. "Yeah," she says, which isn't a lie. She did make it home okay - she just didn't stay there. It occurs to her that Allison would be able to tell she was lying, and would call her out on it. She has a feeling Kira might know she's not telling her the truth, but the kitsune doesn't say anything. Lydia tries to figure out if this makes her more relieved or disappointed.

"Good," Scott says, and Lydia's definitely relieved that he doesn't push the matter. "Isaac, Ethan, you guys okay?"

Once they've established that everyone is okay – as okay as they ever are – they turn their attention back to the fight. Isaac and Ethan compare battle tactics, while Malia listens with apparent interest. Stiles has one arm wrapped around Malia's shoulders, and Kira's leaning her head against Scott's shoulders. Although Lydia was the first to sit at the table, she has the urge to be the first to leave as well. She'd hate to admit it, but she feels out of place, like she's not supposed to be here.

When they start talking about what had happened while Stiles, Malia, and Lydia were off saving Cathy – apparently it had gone downhill very fast, until some fast thinking on Isaac's part had turned the tables again – Lydia takes it as her cue to leave. She murmurs a farewell and slips from the table, and she's not even sure anyone notices.

She finds herself back at her locker, resting with her back against it and her eyes closed. If she concentrates, she can almost hear Allison's voice, her laughter. She can remember a thousand times when they'd stood in this very spot and talked about everything from alphas and druids to boys and clothes. And if she thinks hard enough, she can remember the first time they met. But that inevitably leads to the last time they spoke, and she'd rather not go there.

Lydia opens her eyes, taking in the empty hall around her. She stays where she is until the bell rings, and then she joins the throng of students moving toward their classrooms. She's only taken a couple of steps when she pulls up short, her hand flying to her side. She would give anything to have a werewolf's healing ability, because it feels like someone is literally ripping her side apart.

Her pain must show on her face because a moment later she feels someone say her name in concern, and then gentle hands resting on her shoulders. She expects it to be one of the pack, so she's caught off guard when she looks up to see Danny.

"C'mon," he's saying, guiding her through the crowd, "let's get you to the nurse."

He stays just outside the door while Lydia's in with the nurse, who asks all sorts of questions that Lydia can't answer. She manages to pass it off as an accident, and talks the nurse out of calling the police or the hospital. The nurse dresses the wound and gives her some painkillers, and Lydia emerges from the room feeling slightly better.

Danny makes sure she's okay, and she tries not to feel hurt by the fact that it's him, and not a member of the pack, who noticed that she wasn't. By the time she makes it to class the lesson's almost halfway over. Danny speaks to the teacher on her behalf, and the teacher just nods in sympathy at her. She takes her usual seat, automatically glancing at the one beside her – which stands empty now, out of some unspoken respect or awkwardness. She's not sure which, and she doesn't really care.

Up the front, Malia and Kira try to catch her eye, but she ignores them and focuses on the work in front of her. She's exhausted, from her midnight wandering and from the fight last night, and the painkillers already feel like they're working off. She'd like nothing better than to go home and go back to bed, but that's not the kind of person she is. It's not the kind of person Allison was. She's going to keep going, because that's the person she wants to be; the kind who deserves to be in the pack, the kind who doesn't give up.

Maybe it is darkest just before the dawn, but at this rate it feels like dawn is years away.

And Lydia's not sure she can last that long.

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Don't ask how Danny managed to sneak his way into this scene, because he wasn't meant to be in this story at all. But he's just so sweet I couldn't resist.

Don't forget to review, and I'll see you all next week.