They start right away. With Peter on the loose, Derek insists they're on a bit of a time crunch. Lydia doesn't argue. She doesn't have any right to argue, when it comes down to it. For the first time in years, she sits back and lets someone else call the shots. For the most part, anyways.
"What is he using against you?" Derek always has this no-nonsense air about him. He doesn't beat around the bush. It's one of the things that simultaneously irks Lydia and strikes her as respectable. But it also makes him seem cold and unattached, and Lydia isn't quite sure how she feels about that.
Lydia hesitates. She doesn't want to tell Derek about the images Peter put into her head. She doesn't want to discuss the nightmares and the threats. She definitely doesn't want to discuss the intense fear that lingered (and perhaps still lingers) in the back of her head at the idea that she might, in fact, be completely insane. Pride keeps her from wanting to discuss everything, but her reasoning goes deeper than that. To put it simply, she doesn't trust him. After all, he is a Hale. He is directly related to the beast that has made her life a living hell. If that isn't a reason to hesitate, she doesn't know what is.
"What does it matter?" she responds, adopting an air of nonchalance. "You're supposed to be helping me shut him out. When you get a degree in psychology, then we can discuss all of that other fun stuff."
This isn't the answer Derek is looking for, and he releases a little growl to show that he isn't pleased. Lydia rolls her eyes and looks down at her fingernails, no longer the perfectly pedicured things they once were. She isn't expecting the strong hand that tightens around her wrist, yanking her to her feet.
"This isn't a game, Lydia," Derek snarls through gritted teeth. "I don't know what his plan is, but I can guarantee that it isn't a good one. Are you serious about this or not?"
Lydia is suddenly aware of many things. She notes the close proximity, the lack of space between them. She can feel his breath, hot and scathing, against her skin. Pain radiates from her wrist, which he still hasn't released, and she can almost guarantee that her pale skin will bear bruises later on. Most important of all, she remembers in that moment that Derek is a werewolf, the same as Peter. Dangerous. Unpredictable. If he wanted to snap her neck, he could do it before she could even muster the will to scream.
Her eyes are suddenly wide and the fear acquired by this realization practically radiates from her. "Let go of me." Her voice is shaky and she curses herself for her weakness. Lydia swallows hard and tries again. "I said let go of me."
He obliges, releasing her and taking a step back. Lydia sinks back into her chair, watching him angrily. His irritation is still evident, however, in the way that he glares at her. "If you're serious about this, then I have to know what he said and what he did. He's clever. He can use you for whatever he wants." He pauses to see if his words are leaving a mark on her. "People could die, Lydia."
"So I'm a liability, is that what you're saying?" Her gaze is icy as she stares at him. Lydia Martin has been called a lot of things, but never a liability. He hasn't said it outright but she knows how to read people well enough to know that this is what he's getting at.
Derek doesn't even flinch. He has no reason to care about Lydia's feelings, and no time to spare them. Still, he seems to sense that she might start to be difficult again, and if he wants her to cooperate, he needs to change tactics. "Your friends don't want you to get hurt."
The new direction doesn't help matters. Lydia merely scoffs and crosses her arms to avoid being grabbed again. "Oh, my friends? Those people who didn't tell me what the hell has been going on for the past few weeks? The people who haven't spoken – really spoken – to me in weeks? The ones who wouldn't even listen when I tried to talk to them? Do you mean those friends? Yes, I'm sure they would be so heartbroken if something happened to me. God forbid."
Her voice rises a few notes as she speaks, color springing to her cheeks from anger. She doesn't know why she tells him all of this, or why she chooses now to say it, but it's as though a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. The bitterness has stuck with her for too long, and it's a relief to have someone other than Peter know just how left out and abandoned she's been feeling.
Derek doesn't say anything. He merely stands there, watching her, and it's all Lydia can do not to claw his eyes out for it. She hates that he never shows what he's thinking, or even how he's feeling. She can't tell if he pities her or if he thinks she's pathetic. Or maybe he just doesn't care. It's probably the latter, she decides.
Finally, Derek speaks. "What do you want?" He seems to notice the look of confusion that passes over Lydia's features. Nobody's really asked her what she wanted. Then again, she's never very quiet about the things she wants.
Lydia chews over this question for a moment. The answer comes out of nowhere, something she hasn't actively been thinking about, but it's clear that it's been in the back of her mind for a while. "I want answers," she announces finally, and her tone makes it clear that she will accept nothing else.
Derek lets out a sigh and sits in a chair across from her. He doesn't like to have deep, meaningful discussions about things that are better left buried, but he can see her resolve and knows that she won't help him unless he gives into this one demand. That's the thing he's noticed about Lydia; once she has something in her mind, it's incredibly unlikely that she'll ever give it up. "What do you want to know?" he asks, careful to make it painfully obvious that he's doing this reluctantly.
"How many werewolves are in Beacon Hills?" Peter was vague about the details. He told her only that there were werewolves in their town. And she knew about the full moon, the one that brought Peter Hale back from whatever state he'd been stuck in.
"Five. Well, six now." Lydia can't quite ignore the bitterness that edges into his voice when he makes his correction. There are six werewolves now because Lydia messed up. Because she helped to bring back the one that should have remained under the foundations of the Hale house.
"And you're all… in a pack?" Lydia doesn't know too much about werewolves, aside from what she's seen in Halloween movies and read in books about mythological creatures. To be honest, she's still trying to understand how werewolves can possibly exist, although she really should be past the stage of disbelief by now.
"Not exactly," Derek answers, and it seems like a sensitive topic. "It's difficult to explain."
Lydia is curious, but she senses that now isn't the time to ask about that particular subject, so she moves onto the next. "Does the Kanima exist?"
Derek's eyebrows pull together. "How do you know about the Kanima?"
"Please," Lydia responds, rolling her eyes. "Allison wasn't exactly secretive about it. She had me translate something for her from Archaic Latin, and her reaction was nothing short of weird. So I guess if werewolves can exist, I might as well cover all my bases and ask about that too."
Derek considers this before nodding solemnly. "It does." He doesn't go into detail. Something tells him that Lydia can't quite handle the idea of Jackson being the Kanima, not when he knows that there's some history between the two of them. For the life of him, he can't figure out why they were ever together, but that's something he doesn't care much about.
"Werewolves and Kanimas." Lydia shakes her head, trying to grasp the concept. "When did Beacon Hills become Halloweentown?" She raises an eyebrow. "So are there vampires? Witches? Fairies? Please tell me there are unicorns. I've always wanted a unicorn." Her tone is, against her better judgment, mocking. She can see the flare in Derek's nostrils, the tight line of his lips that shows he's not enjoying her commentary. Any sign of vague amusement disappears from her features and she becomes serious once more.
"How do you become a werewolf? You're not born that way, are you?"
Derek shakes his head. "No. You have to receive the bite from another werewolf. Sometimes, if the claws go deep enough, that can change someone too. But generally, it's the bite."
There's a vacant look in Lydia's eyes as she remembers that night on the lacrosse field. He'd come out of nowhere, and then there was just pain. Unimaginable pain. Her nightmares had started then, but she wasn't one of them. She wasn't a werewolf.
"Why am I still human? Fully human, I mean. I should be a werewolf." Lydia doesn't know exactly how she feels about this. It's something she'll have to think about later when she doesn't have Derek sitting two feet away from her.
"You're immune." Derek says it as though it's such a simple concept to understand. It's something Lydia's heard multiple times, but she doesn't get it. She doesn't quite comprehend what being immune entails.
"What do you mean, I'm immune?" she asks, and there's a slight agitation to her words. "What does that even mean? Everyone keeps talking about it like I should just automatically get it." It's frustrating, to be clueless about something. Pretending to be clueless is something Lydia's gotten very good at, but actually being clueless is a completely different story.
"The bite doesn't affect you. Not in the way it would affect a normal person." Derek is surprisingly patient with his explanation. "You won't become a werewolf. But your immunity left you weak. It was temporary, but it gave Peter enough time to take advantage of the situation. He was able to get into your mind before you regained consciousness and control over yourself."
Lydia swallows thickly. "Has that happened before?"
"Not that I know of."
There's a long silence between them as Lydia ponders the information she's just been given. Peter Hale took over in a moment of weakness. But then… "How is he still able to get into my mind? I'm not weak anymore. I'm fully conscious." It sounds more defensive than anything. Lydia doesn't like the idea of not having control over her own mind and body. She doesn't like the idea of being weak.
"That's what we need to find out." Derek stands up, watching her calmly. "That's why I need to know what he's using against you."
Lydia still isn't sure if she trusts Derek. He still hasn't given her any reason to believe that they're anything more than convenient allies, and something about that makes her hesitate. What happens when she helps him? What becomes of her then? Will he really just let them go their separate ways? But Lydia decides that it's worth the risk. Derek can help her be normal again. He can help her to truly be free. So Lydia tells him everything.
A/N: So I did decide to draw this out instead of leaving it as a one-shot. Let me know what you think!