InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Shampoo me."

Lydia Martin is a screamer. (knewtoomuch) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2014-02-04 01:31:00

Entry tags:

lydia martin, stiles stilinski

Who: Lydia Martin and Stiles Stilinski
What: Reacting after TW tonight.
Where: Primarily in their apartment
When: Immediately following the episode
Status/Rating: In-progress and high for talk of violence and other TERRIBLE THINGS.
WARNING: TEEN WOLF SPOILERS

She could hardly breathe. The whole time that Lydia sat in her apartment with Stiles, clutching his forearm desperately, she was literally as still as a statue, afraid to move, afraid to adjust herself so that her leg would regain feeling and terrified of blinking. Weeks had gone by since the start of the show, and they were full of anxiety and panic. Stiles was still having nightmares, Lydia felt utterly helpless and now? Now she was losing hope.

The moment that the look in his eyes had changed from confusion and alarm to a sort of arrogance and determination, Lydia ran without looking back. The theory she had about kitsune and nogitsune was apparently the direction that this was taking, and she couldn't handle it. Her heart was racing by the time she made it outside of town and the emotions that culminated solely into hatred for what their lives were becoming and absolute terror for the boy she had left in the apartment ripped her apart into one prolonged, sorrow-filled scream.

Lydia wasn't entirely sure how long she was outside, screaming and crying into the darkness, but eventually her senses returned to her and she made her way back home. She was no help to anybody like this, despite her hardened heart telling her that she was allowed to be doing whatever she wanted. It was just so typical that Stiles would be targeted. The boy who would do anything to save his friends was in danger, and her heart was sinking faster and faster with every footstep. Because Lydia could deal with loss, but she couldn't deal with losing Stiles.

She entered their home slowly, her footsteps loud enough to announce her arrival, and her face stained with mascara and tear tracks. "Stiles?" she called out before turning the edge, her throat raw and filled with trepidation. "Stiles, are you home?"

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runswithwolves
2014-02-04 07:01 am UTC (link)

Stiles was frozen in place for a good fifteen minutes after the show had ended. After Lydia had fled. And who could blame her? He felt sick, his veins felt like ice water was flowing through them. He drew in a shaky breath as he got to his feet, feeling like he'd aged ten years in the last hour. Rubbing a hand over his face, he made his way toward the bathroom, expelling the contents of his dinner until there was nothing left to come up and then flushing the toilet.

Part of him wanted to go after Lydia, to make sure that she was okay. Sure, the apocalypse was over, but that didn't mean it was safe for her to go running around alone after dark, either. But he couldn't bring himself to. The things he'd told Melissa McCall -- that he was feeling easily agitated, not sleeping, having nightmares, hallucinating -- that was all happening.

Last week he'd been convinced that Lydia was right, that he wasn't possessed or whatever yet, but now...now he wasn't so sure. And now he may be a danger to her. To Scott. To Allison. To Derek. All of them. And he didn't want to hurt anyone.

Stiles pulled himself off the floor and made his way to the bedroom, swiping at his eyes hastily and pulling a couple of his shirts from the closet, a couple pairs of jeans from the dresser, shutting his eyes as he heard Lydia's voice from down the hall. He blew out a breath, willing himself to be strong and to keep reminding himself that this was to protect her.

"I'm here." His voice was thick.

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knewtoomuch
2014-02-04 07:08 am UTC (link)

She could feel her shoulders sag with relief as soon as she heard his voice. He was still here. He hadn't run like the coward that she had been. At least one of them could be strong. But it wasn't fair for that all to be laid upon Stiles. He had enough to deal with, both at home and here, being the only one of them to have arrived after the ritual. They were trying, they were always trying, but they always fell far behind before they had even come remotely close to catching up.

"I'm sorry," she began following the sound of his voice. He wasn't in the kitchen or the living room, the remnants of pasta left behind on the table still. Lydia could hear rummaging from their bedroom, and she continued to walk, hastily saying, "I just needed to breathe. This is all so much, and I don't know how to help you. I'm just worried that we need more time than we might have and you can't go through this much longer, you know?"

She cleared the door and her eyes narrowed imperceptibly, leaning against the frame as she looked at him. There were shirts and pants on the bed and he looked far too concentrated on the task. "Are you do-" Lydia stopped herself, not content with what where her train of thought was going. All their clothes were clean, after all, they had just done laundry over the weekend. So why were his things lying on the bed? "Wh-what are you doing?" Her voice sounded weak and pathetic to her own ears and she approached him, her hand finding his. "Stiles, what are you doing?"

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runswithwolves
2014-02-04 07:21 am UTC (link)

He could hear her footsteps getting closer as she talked and he tried to focus on her words even as his chest got tighter until he felt like he couldn't breathe. He shut his eyes when he heard her words pause mid-sentence as she lingered in the door frame for a moment. He didn't have to turn around to see her. He just knew where she was.

But the break in her voice nearly killed him. If there was one thing that always felt like a knife stabbing him in the heart, it was Lydia crying. And that he was the cause of it? He hated himself for so many reasons, but that was the latest one. He exhaled, his breathing shaky as she slid her hand into his.

"Lyds." He swallowed hard. Protecting her. Keeping her safe, he reminded himself. "Listen." His voice was quiet, barely a whisper. He turned to look at her, expression stricken at the sight of the tear tracks. He reached up, gently cupping her cheek for a moment and then guiding her to sit down on the bed. "I have to do this because...I don't think that being around me right now is --" He shut his eyes. "I don't think it's safe. And if I ever did anything to hurt you --" This time it was his voice who that was strained.

"I'd never be able to live with myself. Ever. I can't --" He shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat as a tear made its way down his cheek.

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knewtoomuch
2014-02-04 07:29 am UTC (link)

Nothing was comprehending. Stiles wasn't the person that did this sort of thing. He was stupidly noble, yeah, definitely, but he loved her, and if Lydia had learned one thing from being with Stiles, it was that they didn't push each other away. They worked together, despite the hopelessness, and they helped improve one another.

She was just confused at his shakiness and the heartbreaking look in his eyes, and Lydia was lost before he even spoke. Her head began to shake almost violently in protest as he attempted to explain, her eyes filling up with tears all over again, and though she tried to speak, only a strangled sort of sob came out.

"Do what, leave me?" Lydia could feel the desperation in her tone as she looked up at him, her breathing erratic and her heart racing as if she'd just finished a marathon. "What are you doing, running because it might get worse? I don't want you to leave. You don't need to leave. You're not going to hurt me."

She willed herself to remain calm despite the tears rolling down her cheeks, and her left hand went to cup his cheek, wiping his tears away. "I have to keep you safe," she whispered.

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runswithwolves
2014-02-04 07:42 am UTC (link)

He wasn't the kind of person who did this sort of thing usually. Not when it came to people he loved. He stayed and did whatever needed to be done to get through whatever screwed up situation they'd all found themselves in at that moment.

But this wasn't the same. There was something inside of him. A darkness that was haunting him day and night, and it was only getting worse. After watching the latest episode of their show, he was thoroughly convinced there wasn't anything that any vampire could do to stop what was coming, unless they actually killed him. He swallowed convulsively.

Another tear trickled down his cheek as he looked at her, feeling every bit as terrified at that moment as he'd been the night that Scott had drenched himself in gasoline and held a burning flare in his hand and he'd been sure that his best friend was going to kill himself right there. Right there with all of them watching. He felt sick and cold and afraid.

"I don't want to leave, Lydia. But you don't know what might happen. You said yourself someone's supposed to die, and obviously --" He forced himself to take a deep breath. "I'm pretty sure it's gonna be me that causes it to happen. All that stuff I told Mrs. McCall -- that's all happening here. It's happening now. And I can't control it. You heard what that guy told Chris Argent."

Stiles leaned into her touch, lifting his hand to her face, too. He leaned his forehead against hers. "And that's all I'm trying to do for you," he whispered back. "Keep you safe."

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knewtoomuch
2014-02-04 07:56 am UTC (link)

The futility in his voice was evidence and it shook Lydia down to her core. This really was what he was convinced was best, and with a horrible sinking feeling, she realized that nothing she said would be able to convince him. No matter how strong either of them could try to be, this was something they couldn't win right now. There was no victory in this debate, only sadness and cold that radiated down deeper than anything she'd ever known.

She couldn't feel her own emotions anymore. It was like she had gone completely numb without a moment's notice, and she tried valiantly to pull herself together, despite the fact that she felt her blood run as cold as ice. It was worse pain than she had felt when her parents got divorced, when Peter Hale manipulated her into doing his bidding, because this was being done for her safety. Not one person ever considered her safety. Lydia had fallen into the category of being a target most of her life or an aspiration for someone to attain. This felt worse than being used or neglected. She couldn't place what exactly the emotion was, but she knew it was not good.

"You can't be alone again, Stiles. I can't be alone. Whatever it is, we're a team. All of us. You can't go isolating yourself like this." A surge of anger rose up in her and Lydia dropped her hand from him, too disgusted with herself for running away and thus giving him time to think this over. "That isn't helping either of us."

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runswithwolves
2014-02-04 08:08 am UTC (link)

Stiles wished he felt numb. All he felt was broken down, defeated. He couldn't see anything good coming out of any of this, short of keeping the people he loved most safe. He was going to get worse. It was inevitable. He'd seen it laid out in front of him. And people in this world found it all to be entertaining.

The expression on her face killed him. Everything just hurt. There was some kind of sick irony in the fact that the girl he'd loved since he was eight loved him back, but it still wasn't going to work out because he was going to turn evil. He was probably going to end up killing Isaac back home, and the thought of any of them watching him do that made him feel nauseous. The thought of watching himself do that was even worse.

"You're right," he murmured. "You should uh...you should see about staying with Scott and Allison. Or maybe...I don't know, maybe one of them could crash here or something." He forced himself to take a deep breath. "Maybe I can crash at Derek's." His voice grew even quieter. He knew if things got bad enough, that Derek would stop him. He'd promised that much.

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knewtoomuch
2014-02-04 08:18 am UTC (link)

"I..." Where was her fight that she wanted to put up? Where were her opinions and research and logic now, when she needed them the most? There was no happy ending to this. Stiles was leaving and he didn't want her to be hurt. On paper, it made plenty of sense, but in reality, it made her want to drive her head into a wall. He had made her open up to him, against what she told herself she would do; made her fall in love with him for who he was, and now, through some cruel twist of fate, they weren't going to be together. Typical.

"That isn't what I want, Stiles. Doesn't what I want matter at all?" She knew what his reply would be. In this scenario, she knew it didn't matter. "I love you. You made me fall in love with you and now you're just leaving! Why would you do that?" She didn't want him to go to Derek's because she knew that he had the same nobility problem that Stiles did. He would promise to stop Stiles if he got too dangerous, and Stiles would be lost forever. Lydia wasn't sure what would be worse to witness; Stiles getting worse with the hope of potentially getting better or seeing Derek fulfill that end of such a deal.

"Is that it, then? Are we just..." Saying it would make it real and Lydia didn't want it to be real. She just wanted this pain to stop for a second. "Are you just breaking up with me?" The question was asked without much emotion; her voice sounding hollow as she looked down at her entwined fingers playing rhythms on her legs.

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runswithwolves
2014-02-04 08:28 am UTC (link)

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, voice thick with emotion. When he opened his eyes to look at her, they were full of unshed tears. "You mean the world to me, and the thought that I could just -- " He motioned vaguely with his hands, feeling desperate to make her understand. "Lydia, if you knew you were turning into something terrible, that you were turning evil, what would you do?" He knew that she could relate to a large degree because of her banshee abilities, but he'd never once truly believed she was evil.

"I love you too. God, I love you more now than I ever thought I --" He rubbed a hand over his face, wiping tears away and trying to regain composure. "I'm not giving up, okay? I'm going to keep trying to figure out how to fix this." He swallowed hard. "I swear to you I am. But I can't take the risk that I might hurt you."

He couldn't see anymore. Everything was just a blurry haze of tears as he knelt down in front of her, hesitantly reaching out and taking both of her hands in his and pressing them to his mouth. "That's the last thing that I want. I want to fix this, Lydia. I don't want to be like this. I don't want to lose you." He laid his head against her knees, shutting his eyes as he shuddered involuntarily. "I'm just so fucking terrified that I won't be able to stop it when it happens."

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knewtoomuch
2014-02-04 08:40 am UTC (link)

It wasn't that she didn't understand, because god she did. There were times, even after her possession by Peter that Lydia couldn't tell what was real and what she had dreamed, and she knew how terrifying that could be. There were moments that she couldn't recall what she had been doing even hours before that would send her into a panic. Lydia knew what it was like to lose her mind. It had already happened to her. "I don't think that you're evil," she confessed softly. "But I don't know what else there is I can do to make you see that you aren't."

Because of course in the end what mattered to him was her staying nsafe. That's how better people than she thought. Lydia was selfish; she doubted she'd be able to give him up even if keeping him around meant that she would lose any chance she may have had at a future.

Her heart was aching for him and Lydia wanted to take away all the pain and strife that had made him susceptible to the nogitsune in the first place. If there was a way, she knew she would take this burden from him without a second thought. She would do most anything to keep her friends safe, and even more to keep Stiles safe. Her fingers tangled in his hair, playing gently with it and scratching lightly at his scalp.

Lydia didn't want what he said to make sense to her; she wanted to be ignorant for the night and not let the reality sink in, but she knew he was right. There was a chance that he could seriously hurt her even if he didn't want to. "You're not going to lose me. Not to this. I'm going to be right here." She leaned forward until she was at eye level with him before kissing him gently, her tears mingling with his own. "I'm your anchor. We'll figure it out."

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runswithwolves
2014-02-04 08:50 am UTC (link)

He didn't know what else she could do to make him believe, either. She'd done everything she possibly could and he knew that. He loved her for trying as hard as she had been. For holding him through the screaming nightmares. For helping him count his own fingers when he couldn't catch his breath to tell whether or not he was awake or dreaming. But deep down, he felt it. He felt the thing that Deaton had warned them about stirring inside of him, waiting to crawl its way out of him. Waiting to destroy and hurt and do terrible things.

He let out a shuddering breath, relaxing just a little under her touch, the way that he always did. Because she was right. She was his anchor, in more ways than she may have even realized. For several long moments he just wept silently, shoulders shaking until she spoke again.

Stiles nodded wordlessly at her promise, trying to smile but not quite managing it. "We'll just keep researching." He shut his eyes as she kissed him, and he kissed her back, lifting his hands to cup her face and trying to convey everything he felt for her in that one kiss. And hoping to god that it wouldn't be their last.

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knewtoomuch
2014-02-04 10:57 pm UTC (link)

His lack of sleep was matched by her own sleeplessness, her time spent with reading up on legend and homework, teaching herself Japanese and refusing to believe that this was her life. Lydia might actually have been getting less sleep as she was terrified what Stiles might do to himself had he not had someone there to reassure him of reality. Her nights with him consisted of counting and holding him tightly to soothe whatever was troubling him, the unseen demons scary and vague.

She continued to run her fingers through his hair, the planes now extremely familiar to her hands. She willed herself to be strong enough to not let her shoulders shake the way that was so common for her, focusing on the boy who had become a man too soon in front of her.

Lydia kissed him back almost desperately, holding him close to her, too afraid to let go should he disappear right then. She didn't want time to continue; if everything could just freeze for a minute, an hour, a day, maybe their destiny could change. "I don't want you to go."

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runswithwolves
2014-02-04 11:24 pm UTC (link)

He could see in his mind, what was probably going to be inevitable. He didn't want to see it, but part of him honestly believed there could only be one outcome for this whole nightmare. He wasn't ready to believe completely there wasn't another way, because he just didn't give up that easily. He'd fight until there was no other option and pray that if and when that time came, there'd still be enough of himself left to do what needed to be done.

Every Monday that rolled around the last few weeks had made him feel more helpless, more desperate. He barely remembered the other days of the week anymore. They all blurred together. Whether it was from the lack of sleep or the stress, he didn't know. Probably both. He hated that Lydia had to live like that, too, because of him. He knew that his leaving wouldn't even relieve her of that. It would just make her safer physically. From him.

Never in a million years would he have thought he'd have to make this kind of decision. Part of him wondered if it was all just part of a dream. Maybe when he'd crashed his jeep that night after the sacrifice, he'd slipped into a coma and none of this was real at all. He had to resist the urge to count his fingers when the kiss ended. He needed to be strong here. He'd told her once that if she died, he'd lose his freakin' mind. If she died at his hands? There would be no coming back from that. Not ever. He wouldn't even try.

"I know," he whispered, keeping his eyes squeezed shut. He pressed a tender kiss to her cheek, letting his lips linger there for a few seconds longer than necessary. He couldn't tell her that everything was going to be okay. She wouldn't believe him anymore than he believed it. He swallowed hard, feeling sick. He didn't want to leave her anymore than she wanted him to go, but he had to. And he had to do it soon before he either let her talk him out of it, or before he managed to talk himself out of it.

The image of her falling on the lacrosse field all those months ago when Peter attacked her flashed through his mind and he shuddered, pulling away from her. As bad as that had been, as terrified as it had made him, the idea that he would do something worse to her, was more than he could stomach. "I love you."

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