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It's an hour later and my head suddenly became a little heavier, if that's even possible. The pressure behind my eyes is so great that I'm having trouble keeping my eyes open. I make Stiles sit by me in attempts to keep me awake, right now he's holding my high with a cold hand. That's working just fine for now. I'm trying to focus on my thoughts too, trying to work out what the solution could be. Now and then going back to what Liz might be, supernatural wise, Allison said that I'd said it before but all that comes to my mind is an Afreet but I can just tell that that's not it.
I sigh in defeat and rest my head on Stiles' shoulder.
"My brain is slowly melting, I swear." I tell him quietly, he kisses my forehead and rubs my arm.
"Just think, baby. I know you can." He tells me softly. I groan and push my forehead against his shoulder, squeezing my eyes shut as I do my best to concentrate.
"What have I said before? Stiles, help me..." I whine, I told him what Allison said, but no one else and I'm waiting until the perfect opportunity comes up to speak to Scott about her. I think of everything that I've ever called her, everything I've ever thought about her but I'm only met with bad names, nothing supernatural.
"Maybe she's not supernatural at all!" Issac calls over his shoulder from the table where him and everyone else are gathered and discussing, allowing me and Stiles some privacy. I roll my eyes and shake my head, causing it to spin so I stop. It's like I can feel she's supernatural, just by thinking about her.
"I'm about as useless as you are at remembering things like that, it's like the blind leading the blind." Stiles jokes, I laugh and a quiet settles between us. His hand on my thigh, my head on his shoulder. Just us, like it should always be.
"But you remember everything about me," I contradict, he nods with a knowing smile on his face, "If I had considered her being something supernatural then wouldn't I remember what I thought it was?"
"Just close your eyes, and think." Stiles says, shutting his too. I close my eyes and focus on his voice. "Think back to yesterday when you saw her, did anything occur to you then?"
I sigh and think. I walked in and saw her with her gold tooth, and hated her for it. We politely joked and laughed-
Her laugh. That's it! Her laugh was a cackle not a laugh.A cackle like a witch. She's a witch. She must be. There's no doubt about it. Everything adds up, she poisons girls, banshees, with cyanide and then moves on, she has a gold tooth tattoo that only I can see...
"Stiles, she's a witch..." I tell him, my eyes peeling open and my head snapping to his. Another spin of the room.
"Of course!" Stiles exclaims like it was the simplest thing ever. He smacks his head with his hand as if he never even thought of it, like he's shocked that even us two hadn't thought of it until now. He grabs hold of me and squeeze me tightly.
"I don't know, Stiles, maybe some voodoo-freaking-witch!" I yell at him, but then stop, a witch. That would make perfect sense, if a witch could make only supernatural beings see a certain thing, to identify them from the rest.
"Baby, she's not a witch." Stiles tells me grabbing my arms and pulling me close to him, "I can see your wheels turning in your brain, I know what you're thinking. She's not a witch." He tells me softly.
"Stiles, we even argued about it, remember?" I say, recalling a conversation from when we first met Liz. Stiles takes my hand and places it on his heart with a look of sheer relief on his face.
"Guys, we've figured it out! She's a witch. It's the only explanation." Stiles tells everyone, raising from his seat and gently, carefully pulling me up too. Making sure I don't faint or whatever.
"Prove it." Liam simply shrugs as if he doesn't believe in witches. A beta werewolf doesn't believe in evil witches. Is he trying to be difficult on purpose.
"I'll prove it when I'm dead-" I start but then the room starts closing in on me, my vision dotting on the edges and my body suddenly feeling like jelly. Stiles arms are around me already and his wide whiskey-brown eyes are staring at me with worry.
"I think that's all the proof we need, Liam." Stiles says bitterly, Liam stands up immediately and comes over to support my waist, maybe out of guilt.
"So what do we do with this information?" Scott asks, eyeing me up and down in concern.
"We find out how you kill one of these god-damned witches," Stiles spits, looking more determined than ever. "There's no saving the villain this time."
"I gathered that be the case the minute Lydia was dying." Scott says, Stiles rolls his eyes a Scott's joke, despite the situation. Part of me feels bad we had to do this, go against Scott's code. We wouldn't have to necessarily end it this way if I hadn't done the most dangerous and least sensible thing possible, I guess I'll just forever owe him.
Then after my wave of relief and excitement passes, I start to feel my stomach twist and I have to put a hand over my mouth to stop anything escaping.
"Stiles-" I begin but it's too late, the minute I open my mouth I turn to vomit in the corner, wrenching out nothing but bile. Stiles holds my hair back and rubs my back soothingly, in an attempt to make me feel better. That's impossible though, I'm dying.
When I finish I apologize to Scott but he's already working on clearing it up, and suddenly I feel lousy and unable to do anything. We have to find out how to kill Liz, an almost certain witch before I die. I don't want to die, after all.
"You're okay, shh..." Stiles says pulling me in for a hug, it's only then I realize I'm crying as I notice his shirt pooling in water where my face sits.
"I'm dying," I whisper, maybe not to him but at least to myself. He holds me tighter and rubs my neck extra harder. I notice how everyone is staring at me uneasily in the room, especially Issac and Malia. I start to feel self-conscious, perhaps they're judging me for even doing his to myself, maybe they're thinking about how stupid I was to do this all so we could find the killer. Because was it really worth it? Is it going to be worth it when I die and leave Stiles to do what? Be alone and grieving the rest of his life? I shudder and allow more tears to escape out of my tired eyes, my throat burns to much to sob.
"We need to get Lydia into hospital," Stiles says pulling back and giving my face a worried glance over. I try to offer him a smile but I can imagine I look ridiculous doing so at such a time. "I want her to be under Melissa's watch 24/7 until Liz is dead."
Stiles looks both angry and upset, and my chest aches, twists and throbs at the thought of doing this to him. Making him feel like he's useless and how he might have nothing to live for in the next few days. It makes me never want to take pride of myself again, it makes me never want to look in the mirror and see myself for who I truly am. It makes me want to curl up in a ball and ignore everyone and everything.
"Stiles, go with Malia and Issac to the hospital then. Liam and Hayden help me clear this up." Scott orders like he's the boss. Well I guess he is.
Malia offers me a gentle smile, and takes me by the hand, her other arm supporting my waist as Issac walks behind us and Stiles in front.
"Lydia, I won't let anything happen to you," Malia tells me, her face serious and concentrated, "You're my best friend."
My heart throbs at her words and the look on her face. I may of disliked her when she dated Stiles, or when she first came along because she felt like a replacement from Allison, but I do love her. She's really blossomed into a strong-willed woman who I'm thankful for in my life. I give her a squeeze by the hand as a way of showing my gratitude for her. My throat to raw to actually speak.
Then we pass the mirror in the hallway, my skin is almost turning yellow. That must mean the cyanide is getting to my liver and fast. Maybe that's why everyone was looking at me weird and that's obliviously why Stiles has suggested me going to hospital so sudden. I look away from my reflection. Hair tangled, face now yellowish and my eyes heavy. I can't remember getting to the hospital but I remember arriving.
"Stiles, you're telling me she was showing symptoms of cyanide poisoning six hours ago?" Melissa whisper shouts at him behind a thick wall with glass windows in which I've been assigned to. Issac and Malia are in the waiting room as Melissa didn't allow them to come in here for their own benefit. Stiles nods and Melissa pulls a hair out of his head.
"We knew what we were doing, Melissa. Come on." Stiles whines whilst rubbing the spot where he had his hair pulled. Melissa rolls her eyes and walks over to me, feeling my forehead with her palm. I'm lead comfortably in a thick quilt and fresh smelling pillows with a heart monitor right beside me, teasing with me with my struggling heart beat.
"We'll have to run a few tests, see how much cyanide she has and how we can reduce the poison spreading." She sighs, giving a glare at Stiles but smiling at me. "Remind me why you're marrying him?" She teases, I smile and have to control my tears. She leaves to go and grab some equipment and me and Stiles are left alone.
"How are you feeling?" He asks me walking the distance between us, I shrug and pretend that this whole thing isn't effecting me in the slightest. "You don't have to lie to me."
I nod because he's right. When have I ever hid anything away from him? I'd tell him everything in a heartbeat. We both know that.
"I don't want to die," I whisper, my tears springing to me eyes and my bottom lip trembling. I hate to be such a coward, millions of people die each day so why do I feel like such a victim here? "I don't want to leave you."
"Don't you worry about that," Stiles gives me a watery smile, his eyes so full with tears I don't know how one hasn't spilled over yet. "You'll make it through this, I promise."
"If I don't-"
"No, you will." Stiles says, sitting in the chair beside me kissing my knuckles, "I've sat in a chair just like this and watched the life go out of my mother's eyes. I've been possessed by a Nogitsune and felt the death of one of my best friends when my void-self killed her. Please don't be the last girl I lose." He tells me, his voice so raw of emotion I actually silently promise myself that I'll have to get through this, because of him.
"Okay." I manage weakly, he stares at me long and hard and gives my hand a kiss. Then Melissa comes back in with a few needles in her hand.
"What're you going to do?" I ask feebly. My body feeling like jelly and my brain slowly slipping away.
"I need to take some blood, run a few tests. If this is actual cyanide in your system and it gets to your liver, this can cause you some serious health problems." Melissa tells me seriously, but something about the way she says 'actual cyanide', like maybe she thinks there's something else.
"You don't think it's proper cyanide?" I ask, ignoring the part about health issues and what not.
"I'm saying there is a very high chance that this is supernaturally induced and could be done mentally not physically. Therefore if we try and drain your system of anything supernatural. You may be okay." She tells us. Stiles raises an eyebrow, looking intrigued and I'm fascinated too but all my body wants is sleep.
"How do we drain her system?" Stiles asks as Melissa applies cream to the middle of my arm and pulls a plastic glove on.
"I have no idea." She says, she lines the needle up with my veins and I cringe, turning the other way. Stiles walks to the other side of my bed and holds my hand, rubbing his thumb over it in comfort. "Okay sweetheart, squeeze his hand if it hurts. It'll only sting."
I focus on my breathing, how my heart must be struggling to survive and fight off the cyanide running in my system. I focus on Stiles next to me, his warm hand clasped around mine, the rough pad of his thumb brushing over my soft knuckles. I feel the pinprick of the needle and I look at Stiles' face to try and distract myself from the pull of blood coming out of my almost-lifeless veins. I focus on his moles, how some are a light-mousy brown and how others are dark-chocolate brown. I notice how his eyelashes touch just below his eyebrows- why does he have such nice eyelashes? He's a guy, he doesn't need them.
I squeeze his hand slightly when I feel the tug of the needle, slurping up all the blood it can get. I think of Valack and all the blood he took from me. I shudder and Stiles grips my hand harder, like a reassurance that everything's going to be okay.
"All done." Melissa tells me softly, she wipes over the pin-prick with a ball of cotton and then gently presses a circular plaster over the sore spot.
"What do I do now?" I ask her, Stiles lets go of my hand and presses a kiss to my forehead.
"Drink." She shrugs, she hands me a water bottle, "For now try to flush your system as much as possible. You need to be drinking one of these every hour."
"Great." I sigh, I take the water from her hand and nod in thanks. I guess I can't complain, I bought this on myself.
"And rest." Stiles nods, pushing me back onto the bed and into the pillows. He pulls the sheet up to my chin and I feel like a child again.
"How do I sleep and drink at the same time?" I ask, Stiles shrugs and Melissa leaves to run the tests as quickly as she can. "Aren't you going to go research, or whatever?"
I try to keep my head high, and blink away the tears that spring to my eyes. But Stiles smiles at me gently, the smile that makes me feel like I'm going to die at how tender he can be to me. No-one else, but me.
"No, I'm going to stay here." He tells me, his voice deeper but softer. I nod and try to look grateful but I think I end up looking sad because Stiles' eyes droop a little lower, making his eyebrows furrow. Then my heart hurts, physically aches, once again at the thought of dying and leaving him behind. "Go to sleep."
"I love you," I whisper to him, already feeling my eyes drift shut, "With all my heart." It almost feels like a goodbye, in case I don't wake up I need him to know one last time.
"And I love you with all of mine."
It's a weird twisted logic really. That going to sleep makes everything better, like 'ignore your problems and it'll go away' but that never really works. I almost feel like everything is a dream because I don't feel like I'm all here at the moment. I drift in and out of my sleep, I see Stiles sit and bite his finger nails, I watch him get up and leave and then come back again. Then I finally come too, my head spinning and my mouth dry. There's about five bottle of water on the side, so I start drinking to wash this out of me.
"How you feeling?" Stiles asks, his eyes are hooded, most likely from lack of sleep and his voice is raspy.
"Like shit." I try to joke, Stiles tries to smile but it'so forced the way his cheeks rise, I can tell he's getting more anxious by the minute. "How long was I out?"
"Couple hours." Stiles tells me, looking at his phone to check the time. "Did you dream again, about Allison?"
I shake my head, saddened by the fact she didn't come at all. Maybe it was just a figment of my imagination, but it still doesn't explain what she told me to tell Scott which I yet have to do.
"Any new information yet?" I ask referring to our killer, my head building up with pressure again, I try to ignore it and resist the urge to sleep it off. I rub my fingers around in circles in my temple.
He hesitates, then nods. "Liam and Hayden seem to think she's in a self-made cult," He tells me slowly, like he's still trying to understand it himself. "From what they think they know she believes that it will do her good to 'cleanse her soul' by 'sacrificing' those who are surrounded by death." He finishes, he looks disgusted by just speaking such words, and shares a look of fear with me.
"So she has been targeting banshee's all along, hasn't she?" I ask, my mind swirling in all different theories and new information.
"Yes, at least we think."
"And if she's part of a cult, does that mean there are more of them?" I ask, too many questions filling up my head I have to lie back down and try to focus all my energy and strength into forming words from my tangled thoughts.
"We hope not, or if there are we hope they aren't here." Stiles sighs, but then a thought pops into my head of when we went to Dunsmuir.
"Wait, Stiles..." I say, my eyes growing wide when I look at him, "There has to be more, when we went to Dunsmuir we went to that Chapel and there was that woman, she didn't tell us her name but her tooth..."
"You don't think that there's these witch-type people all across America..." Stiles exclaims, but when he goes quiet after I can tell he's thinking about the possibility too.
"Or it could've been Liz following us! Maybe she did some witch-craft spell and made herself look completely different!" I tell him hurriedly before my mind goes to foggy to talk or think straight.
"Lyds, this is bad. We don't know how many there are, if there are more than one, where they're hiding-" Stiles starts rambling, standing up from his chair and running a shaky hand through his hair.
"Stiles, we'll figure it out," I tell him reassuringly, reaching up to grab his wrist. "We always figure it out."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," He sighs and sits back down his hand holding onto mine and kissing it softly, "We need to kill them."
"We don't know for sure if there are more than one-"
"That's the only way to get you back, Lydia. If we kill Liz for doing this to you." He says with so much anger, I almost start blaming myself for all of this. But before I can ask about my results from my blood test, my mind is slowing down and I'm sucked back into a dreamless sleep.