I know this isn't my usual update day, but there are two reasons I'm updating today. First, because there was such a good response last chapter - and shoutout to Miss Savvy xoxo for reviewing every chapter in a row, you have no idea how happy that made me. And the second reason is that I'm very dissatisfied with last episode, actually the past few, because Lydia is part of the pack goddamn it. I love that she's figuring out her past and learning more about herself and that she's got this whole other storyline going on and whatever, but that doesn't mean she has to be completely peripheral to the pack's story and go off on her own all the time. So yeah, that's my rant for the day. At least in this fic she interacts with people, and reconciling with everyone is endgame.
So anyway. Yes. Point is, I'm updating today. Yay. Fun fact: this chapter was kind of not meant to happen. I mean, it was, but the entire middle section came as a surprise. But I couldn't resist adding in a certain badass parent and this seemed the perfect way to do it. Soo, as always, read, review, let me know your thoughts. Annnd, see you all on Monday!
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It gets worse. It always gets worse, and somehow Lydia's never quite prepared for it. But over the past few weeks she's found three more bodies – all teenage girls, all with their hearts ripped out – and the pack seems to be getting no closer to figuring out what's causing it. Isaac had filled her in on Scott's theory – about it being a newly turned werewolf – and it seems plausible. But she hasn't really had a chance to talk to anyone else in the pack, because she's been so busy dealing with her own things. Her nightmares have been getting more vivid and more frequent, and Kate Argent plays a starring role in most of them. And now Lydia's sure it's her overactive imagination, because Kira hadn't seen her that night.
There is another option, of course. Not imagination, but banshee powers. This is all too familiar, all too real, like the last time a dead person started appearing to her. She can handle the screams, and maybe even finding the body – but helping another psychopath come back to life is where she draws the line. But Kate's been following her around, and not just in her dreams. Sometimes when she's awake, Lydia will catch a glimpse of her – in the halls, out the front of her house. Kate hasn't said anything, not yet, but she looks like she will soon. Like she's waiting for the right moment.
And of course the pack is all busy doing their own things too, so Lydia hasn't told them about what's been going on with her. She'd tried to talk to Scott a couple times, but there was this worried look in his eye and she'd backtracked before giving too much away. Something's bothering him, and she doesn't want to add to that. She's barely even seen Stiles at all; he's too busy with Malia. And the others, although they try, just don't get it. They haven't been here from the start; they weren't with her through Peter, through the kanima, through everything that's happened. They don't get it.
But the most alarming thing about the past couple weeks is that the wound Lydia had sustained in the fight with the werewolves hasn't healed. It's starting to, but even without werewolf super-healing it should be getting better more quickly. It still hurts, and a couple times she's even considered going to one of the wolves in the pack and asking them to take some of her pain. But she's seen the look in their eyes when they use that ability – like the pain is seeping into their blood instead. She can't ask them to do that.
Which is why, late one Tuesday afternoon, Lydia finds herself on the front porch of the McCall house. She hesitates before giving three sharp raps on the door. She'll give herself twenty seconds, she decides, before she cuts her losses and leaves. But the door opens after only ten, and there stands Melissa McCall.
Melissa's eyes widen when she sees Lydia; it's not often that the strawberry blonde shows up at her house outside of disasters or pack meetings. "Lydia," she greets her, confusion underlying her words. "Scott's not here, but he should be -"
"It's okay." Lydia feels a stab of guilt over interrupting, but Melissa's expression softens. "I actually – I mean, I came here to see you."
Although she's still confused, Melissa takes it in her stride. "Of course," she says at once, stepping back to let Lydia enter the house.
Lydia's not used to being here without Scott or Stiles – or Allison – and it feels strange to follow Melissa down the hall by herself. They settle down in the living room, Lydia on the couch and Melissa on a chair in front of her. The older woman is looking at her intently, curiously, and Lydia knows she's aware that something's wrong. But Lydia doesn't know how to explain it.
"I need to talk to you about something," she says slowly, and Melissa gives her an encouraging nod. "But before I do, I need you to promise something."
"What is it?" Melissa smooths the sleeves of her scrubs – it looks like she's only just finished a shift at the hospital – and waits expectantly.
"You need to promise that you won't tell Scott," Lydia says, all in a rush like that will make it easier. It doesn't, and by the way Melissa's brow furrows, Lydia can tell she's getting suspicious. "Please," she says, and it actually does sound like a plea. She's still not used to feeling so vulnerable, but she doesn't know where else to turn.
Melissa hesitates. "Why – why do you not want me to tell Scott?"
"I don't want to worry him." Lydia crosses one leg over the other, trying to seem nonchalant, but it's a feeble attempt at best. "I just… he's got a lot going on, and I don't want to make it worse. But I can't – I can't do this on my own."
"Okay," Melissa says, her voice even more soothing in response to Lydia's increasing agitation, "okay. I won't tell Scott. Just talk to me, yeah? Tell me what's going on."
Instead of talking, Lydia lifts up her shirt, revealing the hastily-bandaged wound. She doesn't look up, but she can hear Melissa's sharp intake of breath.
"What happened?" Melissa breathes, crouching down in front of her. She raises her eyebrows in question and Lydia nods; Melissa removes the bandage and makes a visible effort trying not to wince when she sees what's underneath. "Lydia, this is -"
"I know," she says, and she's horrified to find that she's almost crying. She swipes at her eyes with the back of her hand and tries to smile at Melissa. "It looks a lot worse than it is, I promise. It's just not healing very quickly, and I'd like someone to look at it."
Melissa nods, letting her nurse instincts take control. She keeps shooting concerned glances at Lydia while she checks and redresses the wound, after applying some kind of mint-scented balm to it. As she packs away her supplies she says, "Medically, it doesn't seem too bad. Although it looks quite recent – how long ago did it happen?"
"Almost a month."
Melissa almost drops the cloth she's holding. "A month?" she echoes in shock. "It should really be more healed after such a long time. How did you say it -"
"I didn't." Lydia's original plan had been to reveal as little as possible, but that doesn't seem to be working now. She sighs. "It was in the fight with those werewolves, the pack that was trying to take over."
Melissa nods, clearly remembering it. Then her gaze sharpens. "And Scott doesn't know about this?"
Lydia shakes her head, suddenly alarmed. "No. And please, you can't tell him -"
"I won't," Melissa promises, "but you should."
Again, Lydia shakes her head. Melissa purses her lips but doesn't say anything else, and somehow – neither of them are entirely sure how – Lydia ends up staying for dinner. They deliberately avoid talking about the supernatural; they talk about anything else. Scott called to say he's staying at Stiles' tonight, and Melissa says she's enjoying Lydia's company. And, if she's honest, Lydia is enjoying her company too. As they finish up their meal, Melissa reminds Lydia to keep applying the balm on the wound every day, and to change the bandages regularly. And to come back to her if it's not better within a week.
Lydia thanks her at the door, and Melissa asks if she wants to stay the night.
"There's plenty of room," Melissa says with a smile. "You're welcome any time."
"Thanks," Lydia says, offering her a smile in return, "but I shouldn't."
Melissa nods in understanding. "Well, the door's always open."
On the drive home, Lydia thinks about how quickly things can change, how quickly everything can be lost. How quickly her house stopped feeling like a home and her friends stopped feeling like family.
She wakes up exactly at midnight, and she realizes at once that she's not alone. She shoots bolt upright, wrapping the bedcovers closer around her. Kate Argent is standing in the corner of the room, a silky smile on her face and what looks like a knife in her hand.
"What are you doing here?" Lydia asks, her words trembling and her heart hammering in her chest. Instinctively she reaches for her phone, but Kate's smile just widens.
"Looking for this?" Kate smirks, holding up Lydia's cell. Then she tosses it out the open window.
At times like these, Lydia wishes she could control her banshee powers. A single banshee scream would bring most of the pack here in a heartbeat, but she can't control it yet. And she can't for the life of her think of a way out of this.
"Relax, Lydia," Kate says, tucking the knife into a pouch on her belt. "I'm just here to talk."
A thousand sharp and witty responses dash through Lydia's head, but somehow she settles on, "We have nothing to talk about."
"Don't we?" Kate tilts her head, mock-thoughtful. "I think we have one very important thing to talk about, Lydia."
She doesn't have to say her name for Lydia to know who she's talking about. Cold fear snakes down Lydia's spine as she stares at the person in front of her. No, not the person – the ghost.
"I'm not helping you come back from the dead," she says, trying to dispel the last traces of sleep from her mind so she can come up with a way to get out of this.
"And I'm not asking you to." Kate flounces over and perches on the end of Lydia's bed, still looking at the banshee with apparent interest – and something close to disappointment. "I don't need your help, Lydia. Actually, I came here to help you."
"How could you possibly help me?" Lydia's words come out a lot more broken than she'd hoped, but she's too scared to care.
Kate's smiling again, a horrible animal-like grin that makes her look deadly. "The one who's been killing all those girls," she says, waiting for Lydia's gasp of surprise, "they're closer than you think."
"Wh-what do you mean?" Lydia's heart is beginning to slow down, and although it goes against everything she'd been told, she finds herself wanting – needing – to trust Kate.
The hunter doesn't give her a direct answer. Instead she gets to her feet, dusts off the blood-covered jeans she's wearing, and shrugs. "The woods outside the cemetery," she says simply, and then she heads for the open window.
"Wait -" Lydia shouts, flinging the covers off and jumping to her feet –
- only to trip over a tombstone. With mounting horror she looks down and sees the cold stone beneath her. And when she looks up, she finds that she's in the cemetery. Again. Her head aches and her mouth tastes like lavender, and a brisk wind ruffles the hem of her pajama pants.
"Damn it," she mutters, turning around to begin the long walk home, yet again. But she stops when she catches sight of something in the woods. A shape, moving quickly through the trees. From this distance it looks human, but it's Beacon Hills so it's definitely not a given. Something compels Lydia to move forward, even though her feet feel frozen and her teeth are actually chattering.
When she reaches the shelter of the trees she sees the person – and she knows them.
"Hey!" she calls, but the person doesn't respond. They just look up at the sky, and then down at the ground. And Lydia can see that there's blood all down the person's shirt – and face, and arms. She feels sick. "Wait!" she tries again, but the person just disappears farther into the trees.
Without thinking Lydia hurries after them, because she needs to catch up to her.
She needs to get to Malia.
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Okay. Next chapter is one of my favorites, even though it might be a little hard to read and make you want to slap people: Scott and Stiles go to visit an old friend, and Malia treads on a lot of toes. Any theories about who they go to see, or what Malia's up to, or for that matter what Kate's plan is? I'd love to hear from you all!