Ohey all. Interest for this story seems to be dwindling so it's probably just as well it's almost done. To the guest who's losing hope that this is a Stydia story: trust me, it is. I wouldn't write a full Stalia story. But the thing is, Stydia is endgame. So I need time to build it up and simultaneously break down Stalia (have you not noticed the cracks in that relationship?), but it is coming.
And, that's all I guess. Enjoy?
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A horrible, heavy silence hangs over all of them. She knows what she just agreed to, she knows what it will mean for the pack – for her friends – but she can't take it back. Kate's threat comes back to her, replaying in her mind with as much venom as the hunter had spoken it. If you don't hand Malia over, I'll kill off the rest of your pack one by one. Starting with Stiles. Lydia prides herself on being quick thinking and calmly logical, but when she'd seen Kate going for Stiles, some primal instinct had kicked in. She had to stop it, and the only way she could think to do that was tell Kate exactly what she wanted to hear.
"Hm." Kate reaches forward, slowly, running a claw down Lydia's face; the banshee tries not to flinch, but she feels her heart shiver. "You know what you're agreeing to?"
Lydia nods, so quickly that the claw digs into her cheek. Kate smiles, removing her hand, and suddenly her claws retract and she looks human again.
"Good," Kate says simply. "I'm glad you came to your senses."
Behind her, Lydia can feel Stiles stir. She doesn't dare look at him, but god she hopes he's not about to do something stupid. It had been foolish enough, him rushing in to try to save her, but now she's (almost) got the situation under control and any interference from him will only make it worse.
"I'll need some time, though," Lydia says carefully, watching Kate's face. She's stalling and she knows it; if she can keep Kate here long enough, maybe the rest of the pack will show up. She, Kira, and Stiles can't take on Kate by themselves, but with the help of a werewolf or two they might be able to.
"I'll give you a week," Kate says. "And that's it. If not – well, you know what will happen."
Lydia swallows, feeling her throat tighten. She has a week to figure out a better plan than hand Malia over and hope for the best. She knows she can't do that to her; they may not be friends, but she still can't just hand someone over to be ritually sacrificed. It's not who she is, not who Allison would want her to be.
Before Lydia can respond, she becomes aware of a presence behind her. She turns, catching sight of Kira slipping into the room, followed by Scott and Isaac. She glances back at Stiles, who's standing behind her, one hand in his pocket like he'd just texted them. She breathes a sigh of relief – Kate won't attack them, not when she's so outnumbered. She hopes.
"Well, well, well," Kate taunts, "look what we have here. The one true alpha and his little pack."
Scott keeps his eyes on Kate but gestures to Stiles and Lydia, ushering them back toward him. Lydia feels Stiles grab her hand and pull her back toward the rest of the pack, and she's too numb to object. They come to a stop behind Scott and Isaac, who are in their wolf forms and looking ready for battle. Kira is slightly behind them, her sword in her hand and a determined look in her eye.
"Claws away, boys," Kate says, sounding amused. "We don't want any unnecessary bloodshed."
Scott lets out a low growl, an instinctive response. "What do you want, Kate?"
"I've already got it, Scotty," she says smoothly. Then she looks up at Lydia, who feels her heart freeze. "See you in a week," Kate says, winking at her.
Then, before any of them can figure out what's happening, Kate crashes through the windows behind her and disappears.
"Stay here," Scott says to Kira, and he and Isaac launch themselves through the window after Kate. As the sounds of their footsteps fade, the rest of the pack turns to each other.
"Are you guys okay?" Kira asks breathlessly. She's still clutching her sword, but she looks relieved that she didn't have to use it.
"We're fine," Stiles says, and then he looks down and seems to realize that he's still holding Lydia's hand. He jerks his hand away, looking embarrassed, and Lydia feels something inside her shrivel up.
It's stupid, it's selfish, but sometimes she just wants Stiles to hold her hand – and because he wants to, not because they're in mortal danger again.
After a minute Scott and Isaac come back, bearing the news that they lost Kate's trail. Lydia's not surprised – Kate seems more powerful than either a hunter or a werewolf (or any werecreature for that matter). They have no idea what she can do, but being able to ditch a couple of teenage werewolves is probably only the tip of the iceberg.
Scott gathers them all in the living room, after promising Kira that he'll pay to have the windows fixed. "My parents will understand," she assures him, and since her mother was partially responsible for the centuries-old demon that demolished half the town, she's probably not the right person to criticize.
They all settle down in the living room; Scott and Kira take one couch, Stiles and Isaac sit on the other, and Lydia deliberately pulls up a chair and sits by herself. She knows it's petty, but they haven't treated her like part of the pack in a long time, so why should she make an effort to include herself? She wonders how long she's felt like this – so bitter, almost broken – but she doesn't want to think about it. Because it all seems to come back to that damn night they lost two members of the pack.
"Lydia," Stiles says, and she tries to ignore the way her heart flutters when he says her name, "what the hell was that?"
Scott's expression darkens. "What was what?"
It takes a couple minutes for them to catch Scott up on what Kate had said and done, and then another couple for anyone to speak again. Scott clears his throat, and Lydia's reminded yet again just how young she is, and how quickly he'd had to grow up; she doesn't envy him, having to take care of an entire pack. Especially a pack that's being targeted by a supposedly dead former-hunter current-werejaguar.
"Okay." Scott exhales slowly, and then he looks around at each member of the pack. His gaze settles on Lydia, and she finds herself shrinking away, not wanting to have to explain or apologize or account for everything that's happened. She's screwed up and she knows that, but it's too late. "Lydia, do you want to explain what's going on?"
She shakes her head, desperately hoping she won't need to go into it, but some part of her knows that she's going to have to explain, and it may as well be now. The others are all looking at her, but she can't look at them; she focuses on a spot on the ground and speaks quietly, in a monotone, still unable to believe that it's come down to this. "Kate's trying to bring Allison back," she says, and she keeps going over the top of the noises of shock and surprise, "and to do that she needs a sacrifice – someone Allison's age and sex. Which is why all of these girls have been showing up dead – it was Kate. And she's supernatural, which is why I ended up at the crime scenes. She's been trying to get me to help her, but I wouldn't, and then she… she threatened you. All of you. She said if I didn't do what she wanted me to do, she was going to start killing you. One by one."
Her well of words runs dry and she just keeps staring at the floor, waiting for someone to speak, for someone to say something, but there's silence. The kind of silence that only draws attention to the whispers in her head, the ones she can't quite force out of her mind. They've been her constant company for days now, and the ironic thing is that they're more reliable than her friends. She loves her friends – of course she does – but she can't rely on them anymore. The thought kills her, but it doesn't make it any less true.
Kira's the one who breaks the silence, her voice tentative and her words falling to the floor. "What did she want you to do?"
Lydia looks up, meets Kira's eyes, and suddenly feels very small. It seems ridiculous that she hadn't talked to the pack about this before, but then again, who was she supposed to talk to? Everyone's been so busy with everything they've got going on, and so determined to keep her out of harm's way; and when she'd tried to talk to them about Kate, they hadn't believed her. Well, Kira and Isaac had, but the body in the grave had been enough to convince the others that Lydia was just losing it. Again.
"She, um…" Lydia's voice cracks and she hates herself for it. "She wants me to hand over the next sacrifice."
"What?" Stiles sits up straight, alarm flashing through his eyes, and Lydia can't quite tell if the concern is for the fact that Kate had tried to manipulate her, or because Stiles thinks she might actually have been willing to do it. "Who's the next sacrifice?"
Lydia had been hoping to avoid this, but there had never really been any chance of that. "Malia," she mumbles, and then she looks away again.
The silence that follows seems incredibly loud. Lydia closes her eyes, almost wishing she could open them and wake up in the cemetery again. Anywhere must be better than here.
"She wants to sacrifice Malia to bring back Allison?" Scott asks, his voice heavy with disbelief.
Lydia nods, wondering when their lives got so freaking complicated. She can still (vaguely) remember a time when the most important thing she had to worry about was getting into a decent college or having the right date to the prom, and now somehow she's responsible for whether one of her pack mates lives or dies. Scott isn't the only one who had to grow up too quickly; they all did. And Lydia doesn't have to be a genius to know that they're not ready for this.
"You can't do that," Stiles says, his voice hitching, and before she can stop herself Lydia looks up at him. There's fear in his eyes, but she knows it's not fear for her – it's fear for what she might do. Like he thinks she might have really been about to hand Malia over to Kate.
"I know that," she spits out, and she waits for the others to interject, for someone to say that she couldn't possibly have been about to do it and that they've all misjudged her, but no one comes to her defense. The one time she does need protection, no one's there. The silence stretches on, and Lydia breaks it by standing up so quickly she knocks the chair over. "You know what?" she says, her gaze flicking between the four pack members in front of her. "Never mind. If you all think I'm going to betray the pack, then I may as well go ahead and do it."
Not bothering to upright the chair, she turns on her heel and strides out the door. A couple of them call after her – Kira and Isaac, she thinks – but she doesn't look back. She reaches her car just as the others reach the front door of the house, but by the time they get down to the street she's already halfway up the block. Her heart is hammering in her chest and she feels physically sick, like she might be about to throw up, but she knows it's just her body's reaction to what she's about to do. It's a perfectly normal reaction to the amount of fear she's feeling, which is a perfectly normal amount given what's going to happen next.
She thinks some of the others might be trying to follow her, but since she's in her car the wolves won't be able to track her. She keeps driving, not sure how she knows where she's going, just trusting her banshee instincts. For once they don't steer her wrong, because she comes to a stop outside a familiar house.
The front door is unlocked, and she steps through without giving herself time to reconsider. Kate is standing in the middle of the room, like she'd been expecting her.
"You're a brave little banshee, aren't you?" she croons, and she actually almost sounds impressed.
Lydia folds her arms, feeling her heartbeat quicken. It's too late to turn back now; it's way too late. "I'm not going to give you Malia," she says, and her voice is surprisingly steady given how terrified she is.
Kate doesn't seem surprised, nor is she disappointed. She just gives a half-shrug, looking at Lydia with mild curiosity. "Then why are you here, Lydia?"
This is it. The point of no return. Lydia takes a deep breath, wondering if Kate can hear her racing heart. "I'm here to make a deal."
Kate raises an eyebrow. "I'm listening."
There's no way Lydia can fix everything, no way she can make up for everything she's done and failed to do, but this might be a start. It's kind of poetic; the end of her life might mean a new beginning for the pack. She squares her shoulders, meets Kate's eyes, and throws herself into the fire. "Take me instead."
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If you're still reading, please do review, I'm losing hope that people are actually still interested in this story. See you all next time, whenever that is. (Hint: the more reviews I get, the sooner that will be.)