WHO: Lydia Martin and Stiles Stilinski WHAT: Yelling and crying and making up. After their fight. WHERE: Their secret room. WHEN: Friday afternoon. WARNING: Medium for talks of suicide. STATUS: Closed/Complete
He’d spent half the day outside with Carl. It wasn’t that they were looking for trouble, exactly, it was more that they were both full of anger over things neither of them could control. He wondered, on occasion if his dad and Melissa had been right all along and they should have just not watched what was happening back home. If maybe that would have made things any better. He didn’t know the answer. He knew things back home for Carl were taking a turn for the worse, too, and the hotel was starting to feel kind of suffocating.
So they’d gone out and shot and killed a couple of giant spiders, and some winged-creature that had chased them half a block before they’d managed to take it out.
He felt a little better after that. Not a lot, but a little. The stress of the place was definitely wearing on him. It was wearing on all of them. Too many bad things had happened. Scott had died. He’d murdered Scott’s killer. Lydia had gone into a catatonic state for days. People were getting one another’s dreams. His dad and Melissa had been in that car accident and were still trying to recover and it had been almost a week. Scott had befriended a psychotic ghost that may or may not be targeting his dad. Allison was going to die back home and Stiles...just felt angry. So angry, about all of it. He kept burying it as deep down as he could, trying to focus on just making sure everyone else was okay.
But he’d lost his temper the previous night with Lydia when she’d said she’d gone out alone that morning. He didn’t understand it. No, he did kind of understand it. He knew she felt like it was her duty to go and find Alex’s body. It was what she did. But all he could think about was how terrified he’d been for an entire week sitting beside her when she wasn’t moving or talking and he hadn’t known what to do.
And he kept thinking what if she got hurt again?
What if she died?
It made him crazy that she had so little value for her own life that she wouldn’t be bothered to tell him or Scott, at least, what she was doing. Even if she wanted to go alone, at least they would have had a starting point where to find her if something went wrong.
Thinking about the previous evening’s fall out with Lydia made him anxious and angry all over again and when he got back from shooting things with Carl, he made his way up to the top floor after changing into his swimming trunks and a t-shirt. Maybe hot water would help relax him.
Lydia was angry too. Every time she remembered their argument she got angry all over again.
The previous night, she had decided against staying in her own room. Instead, she grabbed a few of the books they had picked up from the library a few days ago, her bikini and everything else she would need, packed up in a small bag and left. She had made sure to slam the door loudly on her way out because she wanted him to know she was pissed. Mostly, she was pissed because she had tried. Twice. And Lydia never tried. She never had to. She never cared enough to. She was always right, so why should she bother with trying?
But the previous night, she even came close to apologizing. And while she was aware that going off on her own probably wasn’t the smartest idea, that hadn’t been why she had apologized at all. Mostly, she had told him she was going to ask someone to come with her next time because she knew how much Stiles had been going through, because she knew how much he had been worrying about everyone, how much he had been worrying about her. But it didn’t work.
Even though she told him she was going to to ask him next time, even though she told him to stop it, he continued to be a bullheaded idiot. He continued to be mad at her. Like she didn’t have enough to worry about herself. As if she hadn’t been worried about him since the second she arrived in this place. Before that, actually, considering she was already worried about him back home and she didn’t even have a clear picture about what was going on.
As if she didn’t have to live with the guilt of having let Scott die. Or the memory of finding Stiles with that gun in that hotel room. Or with the dread that they were going to end up back home and that her best friend was going to be gone. Again, because she failed to give her a clear warning. Just like she had with Scott in this place. Except it didn’t look like Allison was actually coming back.
So yes, she was angry. And she was terrified. And she didn’t want to not talk to him. But she still had her pride. And she had tried enough and if he wanted to talk to her again, it was his turn to try. Because she felt like she was the one who kept reaching for him. Literally and figuratively. And she was tired. And angry.
She decided to go up to the room with the waterbed where they had spent the night a few days ago. That was where she had spent the night. She hadn’t slept, of course, for the third night in a row. Between the lack of answers about Alex’s body, and her fight with Stiles and just the anxiety over everything, she alternated between reading one of the several books she had brought upstairs, obsessively checking the network on her tablet, and trying to relax in the jacuzzi.
Now she was sitting on one of the three couches in the room, reading a book on celtic mythology as she tried to stop herself from checking on the network yet again when she heard noise outside the door. Lydia sat up instantly, pulling the towel she had loosely wrapped around her bikini tighter around herself and holding her breath as she listened.
Stiles opened the door and stepped inside, rubbing a hand over his face and shutting it behind him, freezing in place when he spotted Lydia sitting on one of the sofas in the room. He pursed his lips and considered just turning and walking right back out. Instead, he forced himself to take a deep breath. He really didn’t want to be angry with Lydia. Not after everything. He was silent for a long moment, just looking at her. “Hey.”
When she saw him, her heart skipped a beat. For a second she wondered if Scott had followed her scent and that’s how he found her. But when he turned around and saw her it became clear that he wasn’t there to see her at all. He was there for the same reason she was: to get away from everyone else. Including her.
Lydia stood up and secured the towel around herself, arching her eyebrows at him as she tried to decide which one she was feeling more, hurt, or anger. “Hi,” she said, maybe harsher than she meant to. But she stopped herself from crossing her arms over her chest. At least until she could figure out where he was. Because she didn’t want another argument. She didn’t want to cry in front of him.
Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, not surprised that she didn’t look particularly happy to see him. He didn’t move away from the door even as she stood up from the couch. “So are we going to talk about this now or do you want to save it til later?” he asked, not wanting to beat around the bush with this. Because eventually they were going to have to talk about it. Even if it was uncomfortable or painful. And he had a feeling it was going to be both, with everything that had happened and everything that was going to happen.
“Now is fine,” she said evenly, surprised at how direct he was being. Although she supposed she shouldn’t be. Aside from when he was ignoring her completely the previous night, Stiles tended to be pretty direct. And she wanted to get this over with, whatever this was.
He nodded slightly, not looking away from her. He wanted to fold his arms across his chest, but he didn’t want to come across as being defensive. “I’m still mad at you,” he admitted. “I don’t want to be, but I am. And the fact that I can tell you that when I struggle to tell Scott when I’m mad at him sometimes? I’m not exactly sure what that means.” He pursed his lips. “You scared the hell out of me.”
Lydia took a deep breath and clasped her hands together to stop herself from crossing her arms over her chest. She was trying really hard to be mature, because Stiles wasn’t Jackson and that was who she was used to having these kind of arguments with. With Aiden, they never really argued. They never really talked much at all, really. Not that she and Stiles were together or anything just because she had kissed him a few times, obviously. But the fight from the previous night certainly made her as angry as her fights with Jackson used to.
“I’m mad at you, too,” she said, trying her hardest not to smile sarcastically at him like she wanted to so badly. “Because I really don’t think I can count all the times you have done something completely stupid and reckless, Stiles. Or the times when you scared the hell out of me.” His expression was passive and he nodded, accepting that. He was well aware of how many times he’d done stupid and reckless things. Frankly she probably had a better running list of them than he did. “I guess that’s something we have in common then.” His voice was even. He could read the tension in her stance and knew she was every bit as upset as he was and trying to contain it just the same as him.
“I get that you felt like you needed to go out and look for Alex,” he said honestly. “I do get that.” He pursed his lips, jaw tightening as he tried to phrase what he wanted to say in a way that didn’t come off as accusing. “But there’s a lot of stuff out there that we don’t know about. That we don’t know how to stop. Iron Man is here and even he’s clueless about what to do.”
She tightened her hold on her own hands as he brought up the exact same arguments he had the previous night. “Yes, Stiles, I’m aware. I also already told you why I went out by myself yesterday. And no, I don’t want you to feel guilty for spending time with Carl in any way. But I wasn’t planning on being long and I had a schedule since I was planning on meeting Allison. I was already late by the time I left, so I didn’t stop to see if anyone else was awake to ask for someone to come with me.”
It wasn’t exactly the full story, but it was more than she had told him the previous day. Yes, she had taken off to see if she could enter a fugue state and see if it would lead her to Alex’s body. But her secondary plan had always been to drive over to Paris Hotel to grab a few french food things for her brunch with Allison. She knew that would only weaken her argument, though. So it was better left unsaid.
“I don’t feel guilty for spending time with Carl. I also wouldn’t have felt bad waking him up to tell him I had to go for a little while. He understands that kind of thing.” Better than most, in fact. He shifted slightly, leaning back against the door. He was silent for a moment, looking down at the floor. “So...being late was more important than possibly getting hurt or worse.” He nodded. “Okay. Noted.” He bit down hard on his tongue. “I’m sure that Allison would love to hear that, too. I mean it’s not like she’d blame herself if something happened to you when you were on your way to see her or anything.” Okay so maybe he was still more angry than he’d thought. He wasn’t sure how his tone was coming out as even and neutral as it was.
Oh, she could hear the anger there, regardless of his tone. She could see it in his eyes. And it was only causing to make her angrier. Because she had already wrapped up this fight the previous night. Apparently he was too goddamn stubborn to realize it. But now he was going too far. “Leave Allison out of this. Just because you have problems with something that didn’t happen, it doesn’t mean she would, too.” And she couldn’t deal with the thought of fighting with Allison right then, not considering what might happen if they somehow got sent back home the same way they came. Just thinking of it for a split second was enough to make her stomach tighten and her eyes to tear up.
Lydia let got of her hand and took a step forward, she was starting to lose control over her emotions because he just had to bring Allison up. “What do you want from me, Stiles? I can’t change anything, so you’re just going to have to live with the fact that I went out, I came back and I’m fine.” She knew that was far from the best thing for her to say the second the words left her mouth, but she wasn’t going to circle around the same subject again. And she wasn’t going to talk to him if he was going to hurt her by playing dirty. She didn’t need this on top of it.
He saw the tears and he winced visibly, looking away and taking a deep breath. It had been a low blow, considering what they knew was going to happen at home. But at her question, he shook his head, not understanding how she didn’t already know the answer to that. “I want you to be safe. I want you to not get hurt ever again!” His voice rose a little. “Do you know how many times I’ve watched that happen now? Do you know how much that kills me? To watch you get hurt and know there’s never a fucking thing I can actually do about it?”
He raked a hand through his hair, chest feeling tight, less with anger and more with anxiety, because that ended to be what was at the heart of his anger. “I’m so tired of watching everyone I love get hurt or die. I’m not --” He shut his eyes tightly, curling his hands into fists and digging his fingernails into his palms. He’d watched Scott do it once to snap him out of his own anger and it had worked out pretty well. “I can’t do the things that Scott can do. I can’t --” He shook his head, jaw tightening even as he felt his own eyes watering. He wasn’t going to cry. He didn’t do that anymore.
When she saw what he was doing, saw his posture going from anger to him almost curling into himself, she took a couple more steps toward him. She even lifted a hand toward his arm, but she pulled her hand back and curled it into fists too, holding both her hands to her sides. It physically hurt to see him like that. But she couldn’t keep reaching out for him all the time and she was still so angry at him.
She could stop herself from reaching out this time, but she couldn’t stop her tears anymore. “I won’t be safe all the time, Stiles. None of us will be. We will get hurt because that’s how our lives are! It doesn’t matter what we do. We can lock ourselves in this room and still something will happen. You know that as well as I do. And it’s not because you’re human or werewolf that you won’t be able to protect me!”
Her voice was higher, too. And not nearly as firm. “I’m the one supposed to see these things coming and I can’t. I can’t keep everyone safe and even when I do get the warnings, it still doesn’t matter because people still die. Like Allison back home and Scott here! It doesn’t matter what we do, it will still happen and we can’t control any of it!”
Stiles could hear the tears in her voice and he swallowed heavily because he always wanted to be the one to make her feel better, not the one to make her cry. He didn’t want to be like Jackson. But with all the anger that he was carrying around, it was starting to feel like he was headed in that direction.
But at the mention of Allison dying back home, and Scott dying here, his stomach turned. “Yeah, but you know what the common denominator in both of those things is?” He opened his eyes to look at her. “Me. You might be drawn to death, Lydia, but at least you don’t cause it.” His voice was harsh and he exhaled, rubbing his hands on his swimming trunks. “I’m gonna go. Sorry to have bothered you.” He turned, reaching for the door knob.
“Stop it.” When she spoke, she wasn’t sure where that came from, but her voice was strong, loud, raw, filled with fear and anger. “Don’t you dare leave this room, Stiles. Don’t you fucking dare. Because I’m not going to go out there to find you again.” Her hands were still in fists but she could feel them shaking.
“I don’t know how many times I have told you that none of what that thing did back home was your fault. And what Kate did to Scott wasn’t your fault, either. But me finding you in that hotel room was. Because of this. Because of what you’re doing right now. And I hate you so much for it. I hate you for blaming yourself for everything, I hate you for all the guilt you carry around. I hate you for thinking any of us would be any better without you,” she sobbed.
His chest tightened painfully, but his hand paused on the handle of the door, not turning it. It didn’t really matter how many times anyone told him it wasn’t his fault what happened -- here or at home. It just didn’t. He’d set the ball rolling on the chain of events that had screwed up all their lives a long time ago and it had just been the domino effect ever since. Everything just kept spiraling and getting worse. How could they not all be better off without him?
Stiles shut his eyes again, not bothering to reach up and wipe the tears off his face as he nodded slightly. “You think I like it?” His voice was quieter now. He turned to face her but didn’t move closer even if he wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her he was sorry. “I don’t know how to do anything else. I don’t know how to let this kind of thing go. I don’t know how to let go of seeing my mom dying or you getting hurt. I don’t know how to let go of watching Allison --” He swallowed heavily. “Or Scott dying. It’s all I see every single night. Over and over. And I see myself killing people. Hurting the people that I care about. I don’t know how to make that stop.”
He looked down. “So I don’t know what to tell you here, Lydia. Because it’s just who I am.”
“That’s the problem, Stiles.” She brushed away her tears with shaky hands as she walked closer to him even though it was pointless since the tears were still coming. “It’s who you see. Not who you are. Because who you are for everyone else is the guy who would do anything and everything to protect them, to save them. If it wasn’t for you, Scott wouldn’t be the Alpha he is. The pack wouldn’t be what it is, even just us who are here. You’re the one who always figures it out, I told you this. If it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have woken up. But you don’t think about any of that. You don’t care about any of that. You don’t see any of the good you do. You don’t care that people would be completely lost without you. That people need you. That I need you. Because you don’t see yourself like the rest of us see you.”
“Yeah, I try. I try to be that guy. But that’s just me trying to fix a lot of mistakes, mostly.” His voice was quiet. “In case you haven’t noticed, I do a lot of really stupid, reckless things. Like dragging Scott out into the woods to find a dead body in the middle of the night. That was the night he got bit, by the way. In case you didn’t know that.” He wasn’t sarcastic, just honest. “So you know, considering how all of that turned out...maybe all this guilt is just my really bad karma biting me in the ass.” He shrugged.
Lydia’s face crumbled when he spoke and she shook her head. He didn’t get it. And she didn’t know what to do anymore to make him get it. She had tried everything. Screaming, talking, crying. She was tired and even now she was terrified that he was going to hurt himself still because obviously that was still eating at him. She rubbed her hands over her face, brushing her hair away from it and took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to get you to believe me,” she whispered brokenly, shaking her head again, not looking at him this time.
She twisted her fingers together, trying to think for a second then glanced his way. “I don’t have anyone who cares about me as much as you do, Stiles. I can’t lose you.”
He held his breath at that, hesitantly reaching out and stilling her fingers as he curled his own around them. “You’re not going to. I’m not -- I’m not feeling like I’m gonna do anything like that. Okay? I promise. I won’t do that.” He chewed his lower lip for a moment. “I’m sorry.” His voice was barely audible. “I’m sorry that I yelled at you, and I’m sorry that…” He rubbed his other hand over his face, shaking his head. “That you feel like you need to fix me.”
Her fingers wrapped around his tightly instantly and she stared down at their hands for a moment, sighing softly before lifting her head to look up at him. “I don’t. I don’t feel like I need to fix you. There is nothing that needs to be fixed. You just need to believe that,” she whispered, turning toward him. “You’re amazing, I just wish you realized how much.”
Stiles shook his head slightly before stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her tightly, closing his eyes again. “I never wanted to be the guy that made you cry,” he whispered, chest feeling tight.
Lydia wrapped her arms around his neck, tiptoeing and pulling him closer to her as she closed her eyes, too. “It’s okay.” She paused. “I’m sorry, too…” she whispered, turning her head and brushing her nose against his ear.
He nodded, tightening his arms around her a little more and pressing a kiss to her forehead. He pulled back just a little to look at her, a mixture of sadness and tenderness in his eyes. He lifted a hand and tucked some hair behind her ear, gently thumbing away one of her stray tears.
She smiled sadly up at him, searching his eyes as she cupped his cheek in both hands to brush his tears away, too, then she slid one of her hands into his hair and combed her fingers through it gently. She didn’t know how Stiles calmed her the way he did. But she wasn’t angry anymore. Scared still, yes, some. But the anger was gone.
Stiles drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “What do you say we crawl into that jacuzzi for awhile? I’ve heard they’re very good for de-stressing.” He smiled faintly.
Lydia smiled a little more at that and took a deep breath. “Stiles? Shut up,” she said quietly, knowing why he was filling in the silence. Then she stepped closer and pressed her lips firmly against his. If they were going to fight like a couple, the least she could do was get them to relax like one too. She brushed her thumb against his cheek as she kissed him, hoping he was going to be okay like he was the other night when they were in bed.
He started to respond when she kissed him. Oh. He lifted his hand to her cheek once more, cupping it in his palm as he returned the kiss softly. He felt the rest of the tension begin to drain out of his body and he shifted closer to her instinctively.
Once he returned the kiss, she started to relax, too. But she pulled her hand from his cheek and wrapped her arms around his neck again, lifting one of her hands to cup the back of his head as she deepened the kiss slowly. She didn’t want to push him, but she didn’t want to keep doing this, either. She was getting tired of the little innocent kisses, she needed more than that.
Stiles might have wondered what was happening if his brain hadn’t been effectively shut off. He slid his free arm around her, allowing her to deepen the kiss, groaning when their tongues touched momentarily. That was new. And really, really awesome.
When he groaned, she smiled against his lips. Definitely a good sign. And while her next instinct was to wrap her legs around him, she held back. Not overwhelming him was a good plan. Especially considering how exhausted she was. And how emotionally tired she was, too. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want to give him something to keep in mind. So she deliberately brushed her tongue against his again. And kissed him deeply until she absolutely had to pull away to breathe. And even then, she sucked gently on his bottom lip before completely pulling away and opening her eyes to look up at him.
His eyes were glazed over by the time the kiss ended and he looked more than a little shell-shocked. He looked down at his hands for a second, quickly counting his fingers to make sure this wasn’t all part of some really amazing dream and when he only came up with ten digits, he looked up at her again. “Wow.” His voice was quiet and he swallowed hard. “So I didn’t...see that coming.”
Lydia let her hands drop to his shoulders as she watched him counting his fingers. She knew what he was doing, she knew he was making sure it was real and that made her sad, but she paused again when he said he hadn’t seen it coming. “...seriously?” She just said the word before she could stop herself. “So you’re actually that clueless? You didn’t pick up on anything?”
He rubbed a hand over the back of his head. “Uh, apparently I am that clueless. To be honest, I’m still kind of clueless but I am not going to protest kissing you.”
She started to say something then stopped, nodding. “Good. Because I’m hoping this becomes a recurring thing,” she said instead, arching an eyebrow and keeping an eye on him.
“Oh. Okay. Yeah. Great.” He couldn’t help the grin that slid across his face. “Works for me.”
When he grinned at her like that, she held her breath. She didn’t remember the last time she had seen him looking like that. Actually looking… happy? It was probably during that Lacrosse game when he scored and ended up winning for them. She smiled softly at him and let her hand drop to his hand before linking her fingers with his. “Good. Do you wanna get into the jacuzzi now?”
“Yeah, definitely.” He hesitated and then kissed her quickly on the mouth, as if testing to see if the kissing thing worked both ways and pulling away to look at her.
Lydia smiled at him when he pulled away pretty much before she could respond and nodded. “Okay. Now mean it.”
Stiles relaxed at that, nodding slightly and cupping her face in his hands, dipping his head to kiss her again, more slowly this time as his eyes drifted shut.
She lifted both hands to his sides, pulling him closer as she returned the kiss, letting him lead this time. She had kissed him plenty of times before, but this was the first time Stiles was actually kissing her and she wanted him to feel comfortable with it. She wanted him to feel confident. And after seeing that grin on his face, she realized she wanted more than anything to see him happy. So all she did was press her body closer to him and brush her fingers against his shirt as she kissed him just as slowly.
He hesitantly dropped a hand to one of her hips, fingers gently gripping onto her even as his other hand cupped the back of her neck. He shifted closer to her, as well, breaking the kiss a moment later in order to breathe. His heart was beating hard in his chest as he leaned his forehead against hers for a moment. “Is that okay?” he asked softly. It wasn’t like he had much experience with girls. Or kissing. Or anything pertaining to either.
“Perfect,” she whispered, brushing her nose against his and smiling softly as she dropped her hands from his sides and wrapped her arms around him instead. She knew he was going to need a lot of reassurance, but she wasn’t lying just for his sake, either. She meant it. Stiles was very thoughtful and tender, it wasn’t something she was used to, but it was nice.
He slid his arms around her, too, resting his chin atop her head. He didn’t really know what was happening between them. All he knew was that he really liked it. And he wanted to find out.