There was so much noise around him. The sound of people talking, suitcases rolling across the plastic floor, the screens scattered and the speakers above them letting out noises and automated words. But Stiles wasn't paying attention.
He stood proudly, with a smile on his face and a large bouquet of white roses in his hand, staring straight at the departure gate. He imagined the feeling of when he'd see her walk out, tired and jet-lagged but all the while still beautiful. Her face when she'd see him, and the feel of her wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. He couldn't wait another minute.
Checking his phone, her plane should be landing in a few minutes. She'd had to wait for her luggage, go through security and then she'd walk through the passage in front of him. He couldn't stand still.
His eyes were so set on the departure gate and his head was so deep in day-dream that he hadn't noticed the heads around him turning to face the screens scattered around. He was smiling to himself, thinking back to the time when Lydia left Beacon Hills.
"Okay, everyone. Settle down, settle down." The voice of Mrs McCall captured everyone's attention and one by one, everyone around the table let their eyes fall on her. She stood at the end, a glass in her hand, smiling towards the strawberry-blonde sitting next to Stiles.
"Lydia Martin. One of the most outgoing and caring individuals I've ever met. And I have Scott as my son."
Everyone let out a chuckle and looked towards Scott. Lydia smirked across the table at the were-wolf, watching him roll his eyes.
"I can't believe you're leaving Beacon Hills for eight months. I'm going to dearly miss the evenings that you'd sneak into the hospital and ask me whether you could observe while I dealt with patients. You're always happy and eager to learn, even though you're the smartest teenager in this town. And when I say this, I know that everybody in this room will agree with me. Beacon Hills will not be the same without you, Lydia Martin."
Lydia beamed up at Scott's wonderful mother, telling herself over and over that she shouldn't cry. Everyone raised their glasses in the air, and Lydia looked at her mother next to her. She smiled down at her daughter with her glass raised high.
"To Lydia." Melissa grinned.
"To Lydia." Everyone repeated, tapping their glasses together. Stiles lightly nudged Lydia will his elbow as he held his glass out. She turned to look at him and smiled with sparkling eyes before they connected their glasses.
"So, now we've toasted and all have full bellies, how about we stick on some music and get this party started?" Sheriff Stilinski declared before helping Melissa with the plates. Everyone cheered in unison and they all began to clear the table.
Stiles headed into the kitchen, joining Scott, Kira and Malia as they poured themselves a drink. "Are you two drinking alcohol?"
Scott and Malia sent each other a look before turning to Stiles. Scott raised an eyebrow. "It's alcohol-free."
"We didn't want to seem suspicious to the people who didn't know about us." Malia explained.
"Smart thinking, guys." Stiles nodded at the were-wolf and the were-coyote.
"You think Lydia's enjoying herself?" Kira asked the group as Derek and Braedon joined them. "You think this is the send off she wanted?"
Stiles looked into the living room, his eyes falling onto Lydia hugging her mother. She was smiling and her face was glowing. "Yeah, I think she has. She's got everybody she loves and cares about in one room."
The group looked around; Stiles was right. The pack was there, Scott's mother and father were there, Parrish and the sheriff were there. You could see from the look of Lydia's face that she was more than happy. It was rare for everyone to be in the same room for the evening.
Stiles left Scott and the pack before heading over to Lydia and Mrs Martin. He cleared his throat as they separated and their eyes fell on him. He smiled at the mother and daughter. "Mrs Martin, do you mind if I steal your daughter for five minutes?"
Lydia raised an eyebrow and Natalie smirked.
"I-I, er...to talk. Just to talk." Stiles rushed, feeling his face turn red.
Natalie chuckled before squeezing Lydia's hand. "Of course, Stiles."
"Thanks." Stiles nodded as Mrs Martin left the two of them alone. Stiles looked at Lydia and smiled, she reciprocated. "You wanna...go outside for a second?"
Lydia nodded. "Yeah."
Stiles headed to Lydia's back doors and opened them, revealing the Martin's humongous back yard. She walked down the steps with him and they headed towards the pool.
"You're not planning on drowning me, are you, Stiles?" Lydia smirked as they sat down next to the blue water.
Stiles chuckled and rolled his eyes. "No...I just, wanted to tell you something."
Lydia cocked her head. "What is it?"
Stiles' mind was pulled away from his flashback, the sound of people gasping and panicking. He frowned, bringing himself to focus on his surroundings. Everyone was clearly in shock, some in tears as their eyes peered up to the screens around. Stiles turned his body to find a screen close to him before he began to read what it said.
We are devastated to announce that flight 315 from Sydney Airport has crashed into the Pacific Ocean.
There are no survivors.
The flowers in Stiles' hand fell to the ground.
His entire body was frozen, everything fell into slow motion. Nothing was registering.
Crashed into the ocean. No survivors.
Stiles gasped, bringing his hands to his mouth as his eyes began to water. The shock surged through him like ice.
Lydia was dead.
"No." He choked out, hands shaking, twisting and turning for any sign of this to be untrue. Were his nightmares starting again?
Count your fingers.
Stiles brought his hands down and counted. One, two, three, four, five.
He let out a stifled cry before his legs began to shake.
Lydia Martin was dead. His Lydia was dead. His heart felt like it had smashed into a million pieces.
The ache in his heart, the pain, it caused him to fall to his knees. Pulling at his hair, he wanted the ground to swallow him up.
"It's not real, it's not real..."
His entire body was shaking and the tears were effortlessly falling down his face. "Not my Lydia, anyone but my Lydia!"
"Sir?" A voice of authority spoke to him, but Stiles couldn't hear. He didn't want to hear anything or anyone speaking to him unless they were confirming that Lydia was alive. "Sir, we're here to help you."
"She's alive, Lydia is alive. She isn't dead." Stiles shook his head, his hands still holding tight to the brown locks of hair.
"Sir, we're going to help you. Can we take your name?"
"You tell me she's alive, right now!" Stiles spun around and grabbed the man in a dark suit by the collar. "You tell me right now!"
"Sir, you need to remain calm at this moment in time." The man replied, ushering away the authority that was about to pin Stiles down. "We just want to help you. We want to talk you through what happened."
Stiles was violently shaking at this point. His fingers began to let go of the material before looking around him. He turned back to the man - he looked a lot like a detective. "How?"
The detective fixed his shirt and looked at Stiles was pity.
"How did this happen?" Stiles frowned, the tears blinding him. "This wasn't supposed to happen to her. Not Lydia. Not my Lydia. She is too smart for this, she deserves a bright and long future. She deserves a future. She can't die. I can't live my life without her."
The detective looked down to the ground before standing up, gesturing for the cops around him to back off.
Stiles stared into nothing, shock and heartbreak slicing through every part of him. His breathing faltered and he felt dizzy. "We were supposed to grow old together."
The detective watched the poor boy brake into pieces in front of him. Stiles was losing his mind, and his breath. He started to panic. "Oh god." He looked around him, sitting down on the ground to gain balance. He was seeing stars and he was struggling to breathe. "Oh god."
The detective sensed the change of behaviour and knelt down beside the boy. "Son, are you alright?"
Stiles lifted his head up and peered into the eyes of the man in front of him. "I'm having a panic attack."
The detective stood up and turned to his men. "Seek medical assistance now. We're gonna take him out back with the rest of them." He watched a few of his team head off before he turned around and focused on Stiles. "Son, you've gotta give me something. What stops your panic attacks?"
Stiles cried and shook, his eyesight faltering and the blood in his head pumping.
"L-Lydia. Lydia. I need Lydia."