Always an Alpha

by Barbayat

A somewhat longish story with the focus on Peter/Lydia told from Lydia's POV. Is set after Lunar Eclipse with a slight time jump to spring break 2012. Beacon Hills has a few supernatural visitors who are stacking up a body count, while Scott and Co. try to figure out who or what is killing people and how to stop the murders, Peter sets his own plans into motion.

27. Haunt your dreams

A/N: Proofed the chapter as well as I could on my own, sorry it took so long, but if anyone finds mistakes, they can point them out in the gdoc (I made all the posted chapters available link in my profile) - at least that is all I can do until I find a beta

Midnight Chamber, I hope I keep finding most mistakes. Yeah heating up certainly got a double meaning now giving Peter's condition ;)

Jo, yeah, I'm sure her friends will figure it out - sooner or later ;)

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Chapter 27 Haunt your dreams

Lydia was still angry at Stiles minutes after she had ended the call, but hearing the soft noise of water running in the bathroom, she decided to take a look at what Peter was doing. He might be the big bad wolf and should be doing alright but if not Lydia wanted to know. At the door to the bathroom, she stopped and asked into the steamed up room. "Getting warmer?"

"The hot water helps," he told her after a very relaxed sounding sigh. "I know someone who could heat me up even faster."

"Yep, you're doing okay," she replied and went into the bedroom to unpack.

The suitcase was too heavy for her to get onto the bed without effort so she just opened it there, flung the wardrobe open and began filling it. It was just a matter of straightening everything out before hanging it up. In the middle of it, she found the pink slippers she had brought along and slipped into them. Admits the shirts, skirts and dresses were also two jeans which were neatly folded and found their place into the wardrobe as well. She was still busy sorting when Peter said something to her.

Being so occupied, she hadn't caught what he said and pulled the door slightly more ajar. "What?"

"Maybe you shouldn't tell Stiles every little detail if he comes tomorrow." Peter sounded entirely too thoughtful. "He doesn't need to know just how close we need to be for you to sleep safely."

"Here I thought, you'd be looking forward to him finding out," Lydia said bitterly.

She should have known that he would understand every single word she said to Stiles. On top of that Peter also knew her well enough to be aware that she worried about this.

"Well, I don't need to drive a wedge between the two of you for you to realise that you need me," Peter explained. "I'd be contra-productive."

Lydia shook her head. It was probably too much to expect that just once Peter was doing something nice that didn't had strings attached to it. Even though in this case it was more about them working together on the current problem, it still upset her.

"I hope Yoon can work her magic and is able to arrange a meeting and that nobody makes a scene." Lydia sighed when the doorbell interrupted her thoughts.

"If that's the take-out - buzz it up, I'll be out in a moment.," Peter told her.

"I've got money," Lydia pointed out.

"It's not about that, it's just precaution," Peter called after her.

Either way he was getting out, Lydia heard the water splashing as she walked back into the living room. Picking up the intercom, she replied with the number of the flat and the female voice at the end said "Akropolis - Take out".

Lydia buzzed her in and told her to come up. While the delivery woman was on her way, Lydia looked for her handbag and the wallet inside.

She had just found it, when Peter entering the room made her freeze on the spot. It wasn't that she was shocked to seem him in nothing but a towel. His shirtlessness has lost nothing of its charm, but what had her staring, was the fact that there wasn't one single scratch on him anymore. It was just smooth skin with well defined, gorgeous muscles underneath. Lydia fought off a sigh.

Her punch and the gradual thawing up followed by the hot bath had done the trick.

Another ring of the doorbell, this time at the door to the apartment broke the spell, she walked up to it and looked through the spy. There was a perfectly ordinary looking young black teenage girl standing in front of the door. Lydia was sure the face seemed familiar, maybe she had been in the class above her.

Either way she opened the door after checking back with Peter. Him being so serious about the danger had made her nervous and more careful as well. The girl of course had no idea that they feared an attack by whatever but Lydia also did her best to not be awkward. She took care of business while the girl peeked over to Peter standing there with his towel wrapped around his hips.

"Well, I wish you two a pleasant evening," the delivery girl said and Lydia was sure that grin was not because of the generous tip as she was barely looking at the money and gave her the "you go girl" look.

"To you as well," Peter said, a smile never leaving his face. Once they were alone, he asked her with a mischievous tone: "Hmm, want me to get dressed?"

Lydia looked at him for a long moment, before she replied with a shrug: "No - the windows and the bathroom needs scrubbing anyway."

She had counted on the possibility that he might drop the towel just to take her up on that mock-suggestion. He was too aware of what seeing him naked did to her.

"I'll keep that in mind," Peter told her, adding with a smirk. "But not on an empty stomach."

Being in good spirits Lydia decided it wouldn't be her undoing if she set the table for a change while Peter was getting dressed. At least she assumed he was, if he wasn't, Lydia was sure she'd be able to live with that a well. It didn't take Peter long to be back: he was wearing comfortable black pants and a loose, deep cut sweater. Lydia had to admit, he didn't need any help from Hugo Boss to look fantastic.

The only thing that dampened her mood a bit was the nagging feeling of her friends disapproving of her not being utterly miserable. Stiles clearly expected her to be tied down on a chair and waiting with teary eyes to be rescued by them. Peter had been right about what he had said the night leading up to her last birthday: He wasn't bad company.

While he might be just as full of himself as Jackson in many ways, he was actually capable of talking of other topics beside himself. While he brought himself up during dinner, it was at least a lot more interesting and related to things she wanted to know more about. For once, Lydia got him to talk a bit more about his witch friend and what kind of things witches could do and how they operated.

In some regards they were limited like the druids, they needed ingredients for their potions and mostly something to focus their powers into: hence the myth of the wands which they often hid in the form brooms in the past. That was the other thing about Peter, he knew a lot of history as well: both in the normal folk world and the one beneath that he had made her an unwilling part of.

He also pointed out that some witches had tricks up their sleeve that reminded her of Jennifer's powers: making items float or creating illusions. Only that those burned a lot of power and hence they used a focus point. That put them at a disadvantage: properly prepared witches could fortify themselves into an area with protective spells and the like but alone or in small numbers in the open they were quite vulnerable.

It was another reason why it wasn't encouraged to mingle: being both witch and werewolf was more power than most witches of werewolves liked to have combined in one single person. In that light Lydia found it made sense that they would be able to make it seem as if Peter was the reason for them leaving Beacon Hills: if someone trained his other set of powers, he might get too powerful for anyone's taste.

"Not that this is much of a point now," Peter added, "after a certain point, powers wither when not used. Although it would seem, the witch blood can still make me vulnerable."

There was something about the way he said the last words, the part about being vulnerable, that stuck out to her. Before she might have overheard the subtle drop, as he said most of it as a matter of fact with almost an uncaring tone but there was more to it.

"As you said, witches focus their power on locations, as long as you don't head alone into areas that are powered by magic energy, you should be fine," Lydia told him encouragingly.

Peter nodded. "I hope that is true, otherwise you might have to rely on just the goon squad for your protection."

"Ah, yes," she laughed and shook her head a few seconds before taking a drink, before she called him out of it with a dose of sarcasm: "because keeping me safe is right on top of your list."

As so often, his answers still surprised her. "Actually, yes - it is," he smiled and tilted his head. "Not the number one position - that would be my safety - but you're second place. That's a lot higher up the scale than you're on any of your friend's lists." Peter leaned back, holding the wine glass in his hands that he had gotten out for himself since she had declined, "if anyone else was in danger - another damsel in distress, a family member to safe: you think that Scott or even Stiles would stick around to look out for you?"

Lydia could see that he thought he had made a great point, especially in light of Aiden leaving her alone, but as usual Peter was missing an important detail. "I'd tell them to go and safe whatever person is in need of help right now."

"I know," he said, sounding more serious he continued. "We saw how that worked out Friday night. I don't care if one random person across town dies, I'd make sure you're safe first."

Suddenly he got up and walked away from the table, leaving a still half eaten Moussaka behind. Which was still more than she had eaten, but these dishes were huge portions. Lydia was too surprised and began wondering about what had gotten into him, before she was able to contemplate what he had told her.

It was true that Scott was ready to play the hero, but there wouldn't always be a threat right around the corner as soon as he or the others had left. There was always the option to go with them, but for this situation it worked. It was not like Peter would go out trying to patrol the woods, even if it did any good, so with her being here, the others were free to get back to their attempts to stop this.

"I should have killed Deucalion, I thought it was clever not to do it," Peter told her.

Lydia had her own suspicions about that, mainly that it was benefiting him somehow, but she was still curious: "Why didn't you?"

"I wanted to see him blow up into Derek's and Scott's faces," he almost said more that, Lydia was sure he wanted to but something stopped him. "As they grew so fond of him, it seemed bad to be the one to get rid of him."

At this point she began to understand why he was so upset, Derek and Scott and the others had killed him without a second thought and Deucalion gotten a pass by both of them. A decision that made no sense on its own to her and certainly not to Peter. She saw that it upset him, maybe he saw it as some kind of rejection. He certainly seemed bitter about it.

There was another admission. "He also seemed the perfect way to show you the danger you'd be facing all the time or at least as soon as more people find out what you are. It was an error in judgement, one I'll correct as soon as I get the chance."

"I don't want you to kill him," Lydia said but there was this pang in her chest and she didn't need Peter pointing out to her that she wasn't honest with herself.

"You say that but your heart tells me something different," he sat down again and picked up his fork. "I think listening to your heart is so much more important than clinging to altruistic notions you can't afford. Besides it's all on me, not on you."

Lydia couldn't agree more with his last words but she could also not forget that he wasn't the only one ready to take out someone she'd believed was dangerous to her. As much as she hated the thought of someone being killed because of her, or for any reason, she had to admit that she would feel safer without Deucalion being out there.

They looked at each other, both not eating and Peter seemed to be as confused by what he had admitted to her as she was. He couldn't have believed it would endear him to her. At first, it felt like he was trying to spin this so she would see why he was right. She was about to point that it was not exactly encouraging her to save his life again if all he did then to turn around and take another life, when an odd thought popped into her head.

'Could it be that, Peter, maybe had a shimmer of a conscience left, that made him feel bad about endangering her life now that she had saved him - again?'

"Of course it is," Lydia said out loud, pushing this silly notion aside, "what you did clearly sent him over the edge, he might as well have taken that opportunity to turn himself around, regardless whether he deserved a second chance or not, he might have. We'll never know."

"Yes, I'm pretty sure, that gaining his eyesight back was all it took to make him change. Lydia, that only happens in really badly written tvshows," he said rolling his eyes.

If Lydia was honest, she sometimes felt she was in one but Peter had a point and he knew what he was talking about. While Peter was acting less crazy since he had been killed, he hadn't changed much and probably would never do. He might be willing to make some amends but on his own terms. It was better than nothing.

"I guess, it makes little sense to wonder what if," she admitted, wondering if Deucalion in his current state wasn't also a danger to others.

After that less than cheerful end to their dinner conversation, neither of them ate much. They ended up saving the rest for a later warm up and since Lydia didn't want Peter close to her in that small area, she cleared the dishes and packed the food away all by herself.

For a change Peter turned on the tv and switched to the local channel, which was about to air their news. It was all about the killings, reporting on the latest and bringing up all the gory details in as much detail as was available to them. They also began to bring up the killings that had been blamed on Kate Argent, which both of them knew were really Peter's bodies.

Being done in the kitchen she walked over to the couch and when she saw his smug face, she just had to ask. "Really?"

Peter looked up to her, he smiled darkly. "Might not be the right dead bodies, but at least the world remembers her for what she was."

"What about you?" Lydia asked him daringly, "what should you be remembered as?"

"I guess that depends, on which world we're talking about," Peter said and sounded even a bit bitter. "There a things I've done I'm not proud of, but I don't regret bringing justice to those who would have never seen it otherwise." He switched the channel. "Nothing new to learn here anyway."

A stupid commercial played on the tv and Lydia felt a bit lost standing in the room. She wanted to be upset with him for what he had done but she lacked the energy. Looking back at the past and determining just how justified or unjustified Peter's or everyone elses actions had been would not get her anywhere. They all had made mistakes and while they said the road to hell was paved with good intentions - it was certainly also filled with self serving pursuits.

Lydia sat down on the sofa: "So are we going to do this?"

There was no attempt to hide just how thrilled the prospect of having Peter spook around in her dreams was but she was ready to get on with it.

"Not tonight!" Peter said, his voice was soft and yet it was clear no.

"Why not?" she protested, "more people could die! Yoon said it could take a while for me to pick up on all the tricks."

"I know - but not tonight," Peter said more firmly.

Taking "No" as an answer was something Lydia should do without a second thought but in this case she wanted to push back. As she looked at him, trying to figure out the best approach, she noticed the hint of goosebumps on his wrist. Where his arms weren't covered by his sweater they showed signs of being cold, despite the room having gotten really warm.

In a heartbeat she reached out put her hand on the exposed skin, affirming her suspicions. He wasn't as cold as before but his temperature was still way below the normal.

"Don't worry, I'm back to full fighting strength and the after-effects of that spell trap are going quickly," he said in a dismissive tone.

It was so typical, guys always needed to play it tough and strong. Lydia saw through it and given the right moment she planned on reminding him of it. This was not it. Besides she had figured out that he thrived on adversary. Peter seemed to expect it and that was all the more reason to pursue a different tactic.

With a sigh Lydia stood up and walked out of the room. In the bedroom she waited a bit and as expected he didn't follow her. She gathered a wool blanket, which she had seen in the closet as she had been unpacking, then grabbed one of the bed covers and folded both neatly so she could carry them over to the living room. The expression on Peter's face was priceless.

"Well, if we're not doing anything constructive," she put the blankets down and ordered him to get comfortable. She was sure that would not always work but in this case, there was no objection to her demands.

Peter stretched out on the sofa, looking at her with a suggestive smile, as he asked her if she approved. There was no way, she was letting that get to her. It was like she finally not only suspected that Peter would not try anything despite his somewhat inappropriate comment but had reached a point where she felt safe about him not crossing the line again.

Without paying attention to his comment, Lydia placed the wool blanket over him and then made herself comfortable lying against him pulling the second blanket over her. Despite the barrier between them she noticed the coolness and could not help but hope that he was right about the effects passing fast. Lydia missed how nice and warm he felt against her.

"So what do you want to do now?" Peter asked as he wrapped his arm around her.

Lydia used him focusing on her curves to conquer the remote control. "Let's see."

Usually she preferred renting movies as the tv program was always lacking and on this night it wasn't any different. As she switched past the news channels, she checked out what was on just long enough to determine if it might be watchable. Despite it being still early in the day, there was no shortage of violence. Seeing more blood, even fake one wasn't agreeing with her.

The red liquid was everywhere, even in the comedies that ran and when she switched to the documentaries, she jumped right into one that featured the sight of a pack of wolves taking down some poor moose. The next to things were having explosions, so she switched fast, not even bothering to make out what it was. In the end she stuck with the SyFy channel, which she seldom watched but that at least had no gory violence or blood to offer in the first minute .

"Well, that's an odd choice," Peter commented. He had to be aware of what she usually watched.

"I've seen enough blood for a while," she told him flatly as she wondered what it was that she was watching until she recognized that it was this show about the doctor who travelled in a phone booth through time. Something Stiles watched - Lydia sighed and curled her arm underneath the blanket and let the episode run it's course. Peter didn't say anything against it.

He had obviously seen the show before and warned her ahead there would be blood and grossness - but as he put it - it was more an outbreak type of grossness. Lydia was already tired of switching around and so she stuck with it. It wasn't too bad, a bit strange with crazy cat people running around, a huge face in a glass jar and some weird stretched out skin that possessed the doctor and his companion in turns.

It gave her a chance to be distracted from her situation as it allowed her thoughts to drift. Peter was clearly not opposed to just lounging lazy on the sofa, she wasn't sure if that was just because he needed to warm up more or if that was something he did do on occasion. Shifting a bit near the end of the episode she thought she could stand another one and put the remote control on the table to make herself more comfortable. A decision she regretted about five minutes later.

"You got to be kidding me!" Lydia called out, eliciting a burst of laughter from Peter which earned him a buff from her elbow into the ribs. "You knew!"

"That the next episode would feature a werewolf?" he said amused. "Not really, though I guess I saw it at . Here - let me try picking something without gore, blood or werewolves."

He had to reaching over her, even partially placed his weight on her as he angled for the remote. Lydia had no intention to help, part of her wanted to throw the damn thing into the tv. The result was that Peter held the remote, waiting for the end of the episode but also lied back with one leg around hers pressing more noticeable against her.

"You seem warmer already," she noted and drew the blanket closer to her. It was not like she needed it, the room was warm but it was nice and cuddlier with the blanket.

"I've someone keeping me warm," Peter told her as he leaned his head closer to hers.

Lydia frowned, wondering again why she was doing this, why she was not telling him to back the hell away and not take advantage of her kind gesture by literally pulling her into what was a way too intimate embrace. The answer was obvious but difficult to admit: having Peter close to her felt good on a purely physical level.

"Well, don't get used to it!" she shot him down.

Just because this was a very tolerable scenario didn't mean she was going to make it a permanent arrangement. After all, this arrangement was a necessity. She needed him to stop the Zombie lord and as there was no one else to turn to at this moment, Peter had to do. It was really more about opportunity and her warming him up than her actually warming up to him, Lydia decided.

She still had not given up on getting Peter to re-consider going for the dream training. The evening had barely begun. For some reason when he switched the program he went straight to some obscure side channel that aired reruns of Jeopardy. It was something she found utterly boring as she knew most answers or rather questions right of the bat.

Not really criticising his choice, she began voicing the questions before they were revealed on the show, which prompted him to say it first. For two episodes they got very engaged in a fierce competition about who figured it out first. Peter knew a lot, seemingly able to remember much he had once read, just like her, but Lydia felt she was ahead a bit. During the third episode, she found herself yawning and only mumbled her questions, before closing her eyes.

Peter played with her hair until another commercial break when he carefully scooted out from between her and the sofa to make his way to the bathroom. Lydia just looked up once, before she rolled against the backrest and made herself comfortable under the blankets. Not that she needed them to feel warm, the room was so overheated that it made her feel drowsy, but the blankets were nice and cuddly.

Once Peter got back, he turned off the tv and the main light in favour of the radio. An old song played softly as he joined her under the blankets, squishing her in between himself and the backrest. Not long afterwards she was fast asleep.

Lydia woke up, feeling gross and sweaty. She was not sure how much time had passed. The room was feeling like a sauna, even Peter felt much warmer. He seemed to have napped a bit as well but he might as well just have stared at her the whole time. She was certain when she had fallen asleep her head had lain against his chest but now his face close to hers.

He was still wrapped against her and when she rose to get out this tight embrace, she was only able to sit up. Her throat was dried out and she just cleared her throat as a 'get your leg off me' signal. Finally free, she climbed over him, ignoring the smirk on his face and went to the kitchen for a glass of water.

It actually tasted a pretty badly and she decided she needed to do something about feeling too warm and dirty. "Going to take a shower," she told Peter, "if you're warm enough, turn down the heat, will you?"

"Sure," he replied.

Lydia went straight to the bathroom, making sure there was a large towel in reach before she peeled herself out of her clothes. There was this weird feeling that she couldn't shake off since she had woken up. It had to be the heat because sleeping close to Peter was something she had to be used to by now.

The shower wouldn't get as hot as she liked, but the lukewarm water would have to do. It was still refreshing and she longed to feel clean. Even when the warm portion of the water dwindled and left her with a growing cold stream, she stayed. Lydia was sure she'd be warmed up in no time once she was back in the living room: cleaner and in her nightgown.

Sometimes she'd purposefully used cold water to refresh herself and stimulate the flow of blood, before turning on the hot water. Only on this night it hadn't quite the same effect. Even after minutes she still felt gross, cold on the outside but like burning up on the inside. Finally she gave up and stepped outside only to reach for a towel no longer there.

Confused for a moment, suddenly Peter wrapped the towel around her. He had startled, since she hadn't heard him coming in. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Keeping you warm," he murmured close to her ear.

Lydia closed the towel, telling herself that she ought to be mad at him. "This is so inappropriate."

It was the honest truth and yet, she was not worked up about it. It was like having him around her felt right, while the cold shower had felt unreal.

"Yet, you're the one cuddling up to me on the couch," Peter reminded her.

"Now, I'm telling you to back off!" Lydia said firmly.

This was the type of behaviour she shouldn't let him get away with and he did take a step back, almost immediately letting her out of his embrace. She turned around wondering why despite him stepping back she still felt close to him. It wasn't just this weird connection they had, it never felt like that even when he was just in her head.

"This is not real, is it?" The question came as soon as she realised it. Peter smiled at her with this proud look on his face.

"I'm dreaming this. I'm - we're still on the couch," she said. It was part question, part statement.

"Close your eyes and focus on the feeling that gave it away," he instructed her.

Since learning this was what she needed to do, she did and she realised she felt what he meant. It was there the whole time, but she had never really paid attention to the sensation. Usually what tipped her off about being in a dream was the weird locations or the unreal elements. Here it had been so subtle. She recalled something in the book about it. It was what a dream felt like.

Then she opened her eyes. "But when it comes after me, I always know it's a dream."

"Yes, but if you're going to navigate between your dream and his dream, you need to know what your dream feels like," Peter stepped closer again. "It takes a while to navigate a dream, let alone gain access to someone elses."

He explained how it was easiest to use memories and thoughts to make a dream realistic and influence the person and that the more foreign elements were introduced the easier it was to spot the dream. Of course it was also less difficult for the sender, especially if one wasn't as powerful as the Zombie Master.

Overall it was a painful reminder of what Peter had done to her last year. As she was sleepwalking around never really sure if she was going crazy or dreaming. That was not all. It also made her feel very uneasy as the realisation hit her about how she would be able to find the head and the hands.

"You - I need to go inside that things dreams?" Lydia gasped.

She had been there before but it had been easy because it had sucked her into them. If it blocked her, she was not sure if she could make herself go back. This approach made sense. When Peter had been in her head, he had used her memories against her: exploring things that scared her, locations that made her feel safe and gestures that would make her trust him. That was what she needed to do inside the zombie master's dreams: pick it's powermad brain for the right memory.

"Unless we miraculously find them," Peter said and shook his head. Lydia knew what he meant, finding carefully hidden body parts in this town was like looking for a needle in the haystack. He touched her shoulders. "You're the only safe bet we have." She nodded still hating the idea, but it was obvious she was the magnet.

"What's the next step?" she said firmly.

"Next," he tilted his head and suddenly sounded very ominous. "Next you'll have to learn to get rid of someone invading your dreams."

He was of course referring to himself, it surprised her. Once she learned to do this, he wouldn't be able to terrorize her ever again in that way. Lydia wondered if he really gave up his failsafe. After today that seemed even more unlikely. Unless, he was firmly convinced that he'd be able to convince her that she'd need him. Which could only mean that there were more beings out there and some would come after her for being a banshee.

Unfortunately whatever it was, Lydia had no choice but to go along. Stopping these killings was more important than worrying what might lie ahead. So she tried to focus on learning as much as she could. "Why would I need to learn, that?"

"So you know what to expect," he told her, "by being able to do it yourself - you'll be better equipped to keep someone from doing the same to you."

He went onto explaining that there were two different scenarios with two possibilities for sharing dreams: someone coming into your dream or you going into someone else's dream and either can be done by being invited into the dream or invading it. It's harder to purge someone from a dream when they have been invited or there is a connection established as is between them or Lydia and the zombie master.

"So by trying to kill me, he's also made himself more vulnerable to me?" Lydia asked gaining an appreciative smile from Peter that made her turn away to hide her blush as he told her again how amazingly smart she was.

"But it also means that getting you out of my dream will be hard." Lydia gulped and her expression was fixed on the floor.

"I'll make it easy on you," Peter whispered to her.

Lydia wanted to ask what that meant, but as she turned back to him, she found herself suddenly engulfed in darkness. Peter was gone from her side and he had changed the structure of her dream. She felt the intrusion, even without a visual aid, Lydia could tell she wasn't in the dream version of Peter's bathroom anymore.

His presence was not completely absent but there was an emptiness around her and she had no doubt this was part of the exercise. Being able to tell what was her dream and what was influenced by someone else. There were so many variables, the fact that Peter was tightly pressed against her in the real world didn't help it either. But she felt the cold around her while realising that her body itself was warm. It was a mix of signals she slowly began to sort out. The darkness helped as seeing images would make it harder to focus on the underlying feelings that she needed to pay attention to. What first had seemed impossible was becoming more and more clear to her: Lydia was beginning to sense what was her input and which belonged to Peter.

But only for a moment. Her ability to concentrate was moments later shattered by a reminder that Peter could not only be practical and efficient, but also downright cruel. The familiar noise of a floodlight being turned on and illuminating the lacrosse field upon which Lydia was standing on, left her terror-stricken. Which each light being switched on, her heart was racing faster.

It was so much worse knowing what was happening. This time there wasn't even a Stiles to rush towards her in a heroic - but failed - attempt to save her.

'It's just a dream, it's just a dream," she whispered to herself.

Her fear left her petrified with terror, even her thoughts were moving in slow motion, as she observed Peter approaching her. At this point there was no more differentiating between her dream and what he put into it. It had become a bad flashback that drove her to the verge of panic. Lydia was one push from freaking out, but part of her mind was reminding her that all she needed to do was kick him out of her dream and she'd be safe from him.

Only Lydia had no idea how to do that. Wishing intently that he'd go away did not even slowed him down. He wasn't walking to her fast but she wasn't even able to step back. She just stared and wondered if she might need to make a move. Kicking him in the dream to symbolical kick him out of her dream. Only she could barely breathe and talk, her body was frozen on the spot.

The spell was only broken, when his weight pressed her to the ground. Lydia struggled in vain and a very pitiful gasp came out of throat. It was at that moment that she opened her eyes: awake and still terrified.

Peter was still pinning her down: not on the cold ground of the field but the warm, cushy couch. Her initial struggles were mostly an after dream reaction. Lydia saw his eyes slowly opening and taking in her horrified expression. Maybe he would have woken up when he noticed she had, but either way, she stopped moving and lay perfectly still. Her eyes felt wet and she didn't dare to say anything as she felt a lump in her throat. It was as if anything could tip her over and turn her into crying mess.

Instead of doing the decent thing and giving her some room, he ran his fingers over her face.

"It can't always work the first time," he said, softly and with an encouraging tone, "I thought doing it this way, might speed things up. Yoon's - more gentle - method seemed to take too much time."

Oddly enough the gentle touch and the calm words got her mind to focus again. Lydia's thoughts became clearer and she realised however terrible this had been - terrorizing her had been a byproduct. She shouldn't be surprised, she knew he had no qualms about doing awful things if it served his plans or theirs in this case.

She need to calm down a lot more, before she could safely raise her voice. For that she needed some distance. Putting her small hand against his chest, the soft pressure got him to back up without her needing to say anything. Entangling his legs from hers and withdrawing his arms, Peter sat up.

Him following her silent wish and the actual freedom, made her feel a lot better. Peter was actually respecting her wishes. Lydia realised that they both worked with the same belief: that sacrifices were necessary if it helped stopping the killings faster. Even though she seemed to make most of them, he also had gone down this road for one very important reason: he'd believed she was able to handle whatever he threw her way. Otherwise it made no sense for him to waste further time, he would have followed Yoon's advice. He wasn't the type to take unnecessary risks or antagonise her for no good reason.

Lydia scooted past him but didn't sit down that far from him. Having her feet on the ground gave her a bit more security but getting up was not her first impulse.

"We can take it slower, clearly, this was a bit too triggering for you," he told her, almost as if he was making a peace offer.

It was the biggest understatement and she could not help but laugh, because it was so out of place. At the same time she was also shaking her head. "You think?" Lydia tilted her head and looked at him. "You could've told me."

"A strong emotional reaction could have helped you with the task, if I'd warned you, it would have lessened the impact," he said.

Peter's voice changed near the end. The little 'hmm' he let out made her think that he might just now realise, that this might have sounded good on first glance but even without the obvious failure that it wasn't the best approach. She turned away from him.

"I had no idea what to do." Lydia rubbed her palms against her temples and then brushed her hair away from her face.

"Well, it's not easy to explain, I know strong emotions help, to cling to a dreamer as the intruder and to remove an intruder from your dream. Intense hate can do that." Peter took a deep breath as if he needed to calm himself down.

Lydia turned back, startled by his statement. It made her suspect that at some point someone had invaded Peter's dreams and that his hate had enabled him to do what she had yet to accomplish. It made her wonder if he had known to invade dreams before he had died or if he had figured it out only after he had died. She wanted to ask him but he looked tense and she did not need more aggression from him this evening.

In her case it clearly had to be her intense fear that Peter wanted her to use against him. Unless he thought she'd hated him which made no sense. Otherwise, he wouldn't constantly bother her with these suggestions about them being the perfect couple. Yet, she needed to be sure. Lydia placed her hand on his shoulder. "So you've done it before?"

Peter looked at her, shrugging once, but eventually nodded.

"How did you focus the hate or if that's the wrong word, how did you use it against the intruder?" Lydia's voice was firm but not aggressively demanding. If she noticed one thing about Peter, then it was that no matter how cool he acted, he loathed being weak or even just thought of as being weak.

He leaned his head back, letting out a moan, probably thinking about the right words. After a minute, he spoke again: "It's pretty individual, I've used my voice but it was not just saying the words, it was more like using them to dismantle the entire presence inside the dream."

Lydia let go of his shoulder, gaining a disappointed look for a second before Peter's face changed to a neural expression. "I need a shower for real and you better not offer any towel services!" With that she rose, went to the central heating control panel and turned it down. "I think I did enough sweating for one evening."

Leaving him alone in the living room, to get changed for the night. Not that she would be able to sleep. Her heart was still racing a bit. She had already made up her mind about how to proceed with the dream training. But before she was ready to tell Peter that, she needed to recharge a bit.

A nice, warm shower did that for her, it took her half an hour as she needed to dry her hair and clean her face from the make-up. Even though she wanted to eat something before going to bed, she brushed her teeth. Finally dry and wearing her long night-gown, she walked back into the living room to be greeted by a familiar quote.

"I carried a watermelon," Frances Houseman declared on tv.

Lydia rushed to look at the flat screen, as she thought she was having auditory hallucinations. If that was the case something was wrong with her eyes as well. "I can't believe it, Dirty Dancing!?" Giving Peter a sceptical look, she asked: "Is that some sort of apology?"

He smirked at her and said very amused: "Actually, I've always had a thing for Jennifer Grey. The only other movie at hand featuring her is Portraits of a killer."

Of course it was about him, she thought, but at least she was getting something out of it as well.

"As long as this doesn't give you any bad ideas," she said with a sardonic smile.

Peter's smile widened. "Lydia, with you around I'm always getting ideas." The deep breath that followed that sentence, spoke for itself.

But she wasn't thrown off or intimidated by it. Lydia had found dead bodies, had nearly been nearly killed a couple of times and had bedded a total of four homicidal werewolves, just today, she had braved the creepy mausoleum again, saved her own personal nemesis from the dead and relieved one of the most traumatic events of her young life. Innuendos were not quite cutting it anymore.

"Well you know where the cold shower is," she told him and went over the couch, grabbing the bed cover and threw them on Peter's lap. Then she crawled onto the couch and laid her head on top of it. With the woolen blanket wrapped around her, she finally looked up at Peter. "Later, when I can sleep, I want to try again, we can't afford to lose more time."

He nodded his understanding and then said: "I assure you, Yoon's method is a walk in the park."

Lydia smiled, feeling stronger than she had ever been in the last couple of days, as she firmly told him: "Not her's - your method."