Who: Stiles, Allison, Lydia and Joey What: Meeting up at the museum. Where: The museum. When: Backdated to 12/7/13 at night, just after Lydia's arrived. Rating: Low probably. Will update if needed. Status: Complete!
His heart was pounding hard in his chest as he and Allison made their way through the forest in relative silence. His shoes crunched over leaves that had long since fallen and decayed on the forest floor and if things had been different, he probably would have been concerned about drawing the attention of possible predators that could be lurking. Mostly he was just concerned with getting to the museum. With getting to Lydia. It had to be Lydia. He couldn't think of another person it even could be, unless another banshee had somehow been kidnapped and considering how many people from Beacon Hills were now here? His money was on the strawberry blonde.
God he hoped he was wrong. He wanted to be wrong more than anything. He didn't want Lydia to be here, in this place. Didn't want her to be tortured by whatever sick game that Management was playing. But he had a sick feeling he wasn't wrong. And the thought of them hurting her, of doing anything to her and him being -- as per usual -- completely useless to help? There just wasn't enough Xanax left in his bottle of pills to try and deal with that.
It was bad enough that Allison was trapped there. He didn't want to see her hurt either. Why couldn't these people just leave his friends alone? He was torn between anxiety and determination as he strode through the forest, feeling Allison's tension as she walked beside him.
"Erica's here," he said, his voice almost inaudible. He didn't know how. She'd been dead. For months. And while he knew that there was some seriously bad blood between them, he was torn about that, as well. "This place is bringing people back from the dead."