Lydia Martin is a genius, not a psychic (yesgenius) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2014-08-12 12:55:00 |
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Entry tags: | lydia martin, stiles stilinski |
Who: Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski
What: Talking, being idiots, being less of idiots.
Where: Beacon Hills household
When: Sunday night
Warnings: Teen Wolf spoilers
Status: Closed/Complete
Lydia was still watching the show every Monday night. She assumed that Scott and Allison at least suspected she was considering she always kept to herself on Monday nights, but in theory, the only person who knew she was doing it was Stiles. Not that she talked about it, with him, or anyone else for that matter.
But she had been watching with a purpose.
Back home, her other self was also still trying to have a better understanding of her powers. Trying to have some control over it. Because she had failed Allison. Failed Aiden. “Not much of a banshee,” was definitely the correct way of putting it. And even though Allison was here, and was, in theory, safe, Lydia didn’t want to take any chances. She didn’t want to fail her, or any of them ever again. So she took the queue from her show self and instead of a record player, she had ordered a white noise machine that also made noises like ocean waves, rainfall, fireplace, and a few different others.
She understood the principle behind the white noise record player. It helped her drawn out all other noises and focus on the actual message. But clearly, that wasn’t always all she needed. In fact, for her show self, it had only really worked once, when she got the first key. When she heard Allison’s name. And Lydia doesn’t even want to think about how much hearing it over and over again must have hurt.
The second key had been given to them by Meredith and all Lydia had to do was decode it. Which she had, with Malia’s help. Not that the fact that Malia had helped her with that one key made Lydia like the other girl or trust her.
And then, the third key. Well. That one her other self had gotten with all of two seconds of concentration. A method she had obviously tried over and over again in the prior few weeks. The one difference -- one she’s sure her other self hasn’t noticed -- was Stiles standing over her shoulder instead of Malia. It might have been a coincidence, but when Lydia started to think back about all of the other times when she had clear and strong warnings like that, Stiles had been there. Even the night when they lost Allison. When the boys came to find her at Oak Creek. It wasn’t until it was happening, until Stiles was there with her that she understood clearly that the person who was going to die was going to be her best friend.
It could be something else, but she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe having Stiles there with her worked as some sort of amplifier. Some sort of anchor.
Of course she and Stiles were still in barely speaking terms here and as far as she knew, there wasn’t really anything happening in Lawrence for her to get warnings about, so she couldn’t test that theory.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t keep trying to get warnings, however. So she practiced. Every night. She usually waited until everyone was in their own rooms for the evening and knelt down in front of her bed with the machine on and the sounds playing loudly on her headphones.
Tonight was no different. She had chosen the fireplace setting on the machine and had a pad of paper and a pencil to the left of it as she listened with her eyes closed. She hoped that, if there was ever anything happening, she could at least hear something unusual.
Stiles made his way down the hall toward the kitchen, thinking maybe a cup of hot chocolate would help him get to sleep a little faster tonight. He had to work tomorrow, and he was tired, but not tired enough to actually sleep yet. He paused in front of Lydia’s door when he heard Reese whining on the other side.
His eyebrows furrowed a little and he listened, but didn’t hear any other noise from inside. He hesitated, then knocked softly. He knew that whine. The dog needed to go do his business. “Lydia?” When she didn’t answer, he tensed and reached down, turning the door handle and pushing the door open just a little. Reese immediately moved past him and down the hall.
He wasn’t sure what to make of the sight of Lydia on the floor with headphones on, staring at some kind of electronic machine in front of her intently. She had a pencil in one hand, a blank notebook beside her. He paused, head cocked to the side. He glanced from her back toward the door, knowing he needed to let Reese out before he had an accident, but to say that his curiosity was peaked was a serious understatement.
She never heard the dog. And she was planning on taking him outside before going to bed. But she felt something behind her. Someone, actually. Stiles and her stomach tightened instantly. Because she really doubted he was going to be there. He never really came into her room, especially not without her inviting him. So she pulled her noise-canceling headphones down and slowly turned around, holding her breath when she actually did see him standing there, staring at her.
“What are you doing here?” It wasn’t so much of an accusation even if it sounded like one. But her heart was beating fast because for a second there, she really thought she was getting something.
It definitely sounded like an accusation to his ears and he took a step back, holding his hands up in the air. “Reese was whining at the door,” he explained. “I wasn’t sure if you’d fallen asleep or if you’d gone out or…” He shrugged a shoulder, gaze traveling to the machine again for a moment. “I should go take him out. Sorry to interrupt...whatever you’re doing.” His own voice was uncertain.
It wasn’t until he mentioned Reese that she realized he was gone. Probably downstairs, waiting by the back door already. “If he was whining, then you don’t have much time. Go.” And again, it sounded sharper than she meant to, but he was staring at her and at the things on her bed and knowing Stiles, it was going to take him all of five seconds to figure out what she was doing so she needed him to get out of her room and be distracted by something else.
Despite the distance that had been between them since she’d returned to Lawrence, despite how hard he was trying his best to stay away from her and give her space, he couldn’t help the flicker of hurt on his face before he turned away and headed out of the room without another word. He stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets and made his way down the stairs and to the back door where Reese was waiting anxiously. He unlocked the door and opened it, following the dog outside and pulling the door shut behind him.
Stiles watched as he bounded across the yard and he let out a breath, looking up at the night sky. He rubbed a hand across his face and moved to sit down in one of the patio chairs by the pool. Maybe instead of hot chocolate, the evening air would make him sleepy enough to get some decent rest.
He couldn’t help the way his eyes trailed up to Lydia’s bedroom window and he frowned, chewing his thumbnail.
The same second she saw the look on his face, she already regretted snapping at him. Despite how hard she was trying to stay away from him as much as possible and keep the sarcasm out of all interactions they had so she wouldn’t accidently hurt him, she was obviously still perfectly capable of hurting him. Lydia sighed and sat down on her heels, resting her forehead on her bed for a second as she closed her eyes when they teared up.
She knew he was keeping his distance from her. And it hurt here as much as it had back home. But she couldn’t blame him. And what was worse, here, she couldn’t blame it on Malia, either. She tried including him as much as possible on group things and whenever there was something going on around town, but she knew she wasn’t the version of herself he wanted. And she assumed that being around her only made it worse on him. She just didn’t know what to do to change that, but then, maybe he wasn’t really interested in changing anything.
With a deep breath, she got to her feet with every intention of closing the door again and staying inside, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Instead, she sighed deeply and rubbed her hand over her face and made her way downstairs and toward the back door. Just because she failed at being a banshee and apparently at being herself, it didn’t mean she couldn’t at least attempt to be a decent human being.
Lydia stopped by the back door for a second and took a deep, calming breath before she stepped outside, not at all surprised to find him sitting there, exactly where she figured he’d be.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” she said quietly, crossing her arms across her chest as she stood by the door.
After a couple of moments, Reese made his way over to where Stiles was sitting and laid down beside the chair. Stiles reached out absently, stroking behind his ears and trying to figure out what the machine was that Lydia had been listening to. It hadn’t looked like a CD player. Plus she had a notebook and pencil. Maybe she was feeling artistic.
Or maybe she was trying to do her banshee thing. He blinked a couple of times, sitting up a little straighter in his chair when he heard the sound of her voice just a second later. He turned his head to look at her, saw her standing in the doorway with her arms folded across her chest. He pursed his lips, nodding.
“It’s fine. Not a big deal,” he responded, looking down at the dog beside him.
Normally, she’d just take the empty chair next to his, but she didn’t want to assume he was comfortable with her being there. Because she knew it wasn’t ‘fine’. She saw the look on his face and as much as she didn’t want to tell him about what she’d been doing so she wouldn’t get his expectations up, she also didn’t want to just accept his bullshit answer.
She dropped her hands to her sides and took a step forward. “I didn’t hear him.” Obviously. “And I didn’t expect to see someone there.” Least of all him.
Stiles was silent for a moment. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he told her, glancing back at her. “I just didn’t figure you’d want a mess on your floor.”
“Yeah, I know.” She looked at him for a second then down at the dog. “And I didn’t. I was going to walk him before I went to bed.”
Reese barked, rising to his feet and wagging his tail as he moved over to where Lydia stood.
Stiles nodded and sat forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “Having any luck?” he asked hesitantly.
She couldn’t help but smile down at the dog when he made his way over to her. At least he didn’t seem to see any difference between her and her previous self. She’d been spending a lot of time with him since she got to Kansas. Lydia had just bent down to pat the dog as he pressed his head against her leg when Stiles asked the question. Took him long enough. “With what?”
“The banshee stuff.” He pursed his lips, slowly rising to his feet and turning to face her. He couldn’t completely make out her expression because it was dark and her face was covered with shadows. “That’s...what you were doing right? Trying to figure that all out?”
And once more, she wasn’t surprised that he had figured that out, too. Of course he had. What else would she be doing? And maybe he had also been watching their show in secret. With a deep sigh, she shook her head as she stood up straight again. “No. No luck, I mean.”
He watched her for a moment, tucking his hands into his hoodie pockets again. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again, looking down. “It’s not like it was with Scott,” he admitted. In retrospect, helping Scott figure out all the werewolf stuff had been a lot easier. Partially because there was a ton of lore on werewolves, and he’d already known a lot of it, and partially because there were other werewolves around to help figure things out with. Derek, Isaac, Erica, Boyd. Even Peter. He grimaced at the thought of the older werewolf.
“I know.” She sighed softly and looked away. She didn’t exactly have anyone to teach her. And she didn’t really want anyone helping her anyway if they were going to end up like Meredith. And yes, Lydia was fully aware that that had been her fault. Even if Meredith hadn’t killed herself like she show seemed to be hinting at. Even if the Benefactor was behind it, it was Lydia who had pushed her into telling them she had information on the Benefactor.
Stiles looked away, too. He shifted from one foot to the other. “I was gonna get some hot chocolate,” he admitted. “Kinda...lost interest though. Too warm out for hot chocolate.”
Lydia paused when he changed the subject so easily. Frowning slightly, she lifted her head to look at him. She appreciated it, but she was still surprised. But she figured he didn’t feel like it was his place to ask more questions. Like she didn’t feel like it was her place to ask him for help unless there was an emergency. She just wasn’t sure how they had gotten to that point, but apparently, it was where they were. “You could make it cold.”
“Cold hot chocolate?” He frowned, glancing back at her in confusion. “Kinda...defeats the purpose. Wouldn’t that basically just be like chocolate milk?”
“It’s an oxymoron. And-- it could be like chocolate milk, or more like a frapuccino, which is another word that doesn’t make much sense, but whatever. You could make the hot chocolate and just blend it with milk,” she said with a shrug.
Stiles fell silent, chest feeling tight. He flexed his fingers and looked away again. “Is it hard for you? Being here?” Around me, he added silently.
Another pause because the question came out of nowhere. And it made no sense. Yes, it was hard, mostly because she didn’t feel like she had a place. Not with him barely even looking at her and Scott and Allison being back together. She was happy that they were, but she did feel as lonely as she had back home. But she wanted to know why he was asking. Obviously this place was still better than home because her best friend was alive. “What do you mean?”
He let out a breath, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I mean…living in the same house as me,” he admitted. With the guy who’d screwed up literally everything back home. Who’d gotten so many people killed, including Allison and Aiden. He’d been tempted to watch the show just to see what was going on with Lydia back home, to see how drastically things between them had changed.
To see if she hated him. But he’d promised Scott he wouldn’t watch, and truthfully he was kind of scared to know the answer to begin with.
She stared at him with a deep frown on her face as she watched him. No, they weren’t on the best of terms and she figured most of it was because of who he wanted her to be, on his part. And on her part, it was just what she had grown used to. To push him away, to hide behind sarcasm and snark because she’d missed her chance and knowing that she wasn’t going to just turn around and he was going to be there like he used to be was incredibly selfish, but it hurt. She didn’t think he knew about any of that, though. So what he was saying made no sense.
“Stiles,” she said quietly, taking a step forward. “Why would you think that?”
Stiles struggled for a moment to just stand still, forced himself to look at her, to not let the worried expression on her face affect the expression on his even as it felt like his insides were being hollowed out. “Because a lot’s happened,” he said quietly. Mostly back home, but things were strained between them here, too, and he got it. He’d been trying to keep himself busy with research and work while pretending nothing out of the norm was going on around everyone else.
Her face fell and her stomach turned when she understood what he meant. “You think I’m avoiding you because of the Nogitsune?” she asked, her eyes tearing up. Maybe she got it all wrong all along. Here, at least. If not back home, too.
“It’s okay if you are,” he said quickly, holding his hands up. “God. Lydia, it’s not like I could blame you at all. Okay? I don’t.” He raked a hand through his hair, biting down hard on his lower lip for a moment. “I get that living through what happened is...a lot worse than just seeing it happen on TV.” And not being able to do anything about it, even if he was still trying. “And we both know you’re not the only one doing the avoiding so it’s not --” He blew out a breath.
“There are those apartments for the people stuck here. I’m sure some of them are available still. I think Kirk lives there. Maybe even manages them.” He finally looked back at her again, chest tightening even more at the sight of her tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
As he spoke, all she could do was stare at him. Everything he was saying, all the reasons he was giving her why he thought she had been avoiding him were so wrong and there was so much she wanted to say to him, to explain to him why he was wrong and what was really happening. But she didn’t even know where to begin to make him understand that it had nothing to do with Allison and the supernatural and the Nogitsune. How to explain to him that she just missed him and that she had feelings for him that she didn’t even know what really meant because she wouldn’t allow herself to admit to those feelings. And then he started talking about moving and all she could do was shake her head at him. She wanted to protest but before she really knew what she was doing, she was cupping his face in both her hands and pressing her lips to his.
He wasn’t sure what to make of the way she was staring at him, and he wasn’t sure what he’d said that was making her stare at him the way that she was and his heart was beating too fast. He’d just ducked his head to look down when he felt her hands on his cheeks, warm and familiar, seconds before their lips met and his eyes drifted shut after a second. He wasn’t sure how they’d gone from one extreme to the other in such a short time, but he lifted a hand to rest against her hip and his other cupped her cheek as he returned the kiss, the rest of his thoughts flying right out of his head the way they always did whenever she kissed him.
For a split second, she thought of pulling away, but when she felt his hands on her and felt him returning the kiss, she stepped closer to him and cupped the back of his neck with one of her hands. Her heart was beating fast against her chest. She had done this before. She had kissed him before and she didn’t know why exactly she had done it the previous time, either. But both times, it felt so incredibly intense. She didn’t really want to, but there was so much she had to understand still, so she forced herself to pull away a moment later. He had kissed her back, yes, but maybe it was just reflex because he was used to it. And that scared her.
Lydia was trying to think of something to say as she opened her eyes and looked up at him, she didn’t want to apologize. She wasn’t sorry. But nothing else came to mind.
Stiles held his breath and kept his eyes closed as she pulled away and then he swallowed hard, a dazed expression on his face when he finally opened his eyes again to look at her. She looked like she had no idea what to say either. Then again, for her it was only the second time they’d ever kissed. In some ways it felt so much like the first. He gazed at her silently.
When he didn’t say anything either, she looked down and took a deep breath as she let her hands drop to his shoulders. She knew it was on her to explain why she’d been avoiding him even as she tried to make sense of why she’d kissed him. “I don’t want you to go anywhere, Stiles,” she whispered, hesitating before looking up at him again.
“I’ve never and will never blame you for anything that happened. Nothing you said has anything to do with why I’ve been acting the way I have.” The reasons why she was acting that way were more embarrassing to say, especially now.
He met her eyes when she looked up at him, and he swallowed hard, not sure what to make of what was happening between them now. “Okay,” he said quietly, nodding and taking a hesitant step closer to her before winding his arms around her and pulling her into a hug.
She shifted her arms and wrapped them around his back as she stepped closer and held on to him. She hesitated before she spoke up again. She didn’t want to tell him, but if it was tormenting him as much as it had been, then her embarrassment was nothing compared to it. “We grew apart back home,” she whispered, looking over at the back yard as she spoke, her arms tightening around him a little. “You started seeing Malia and you had been spending most of your time with her. I was--” she paused, taking a deep breath. “I was used to you being around all the time. I got angry at you, at her. But it wasn’t fair. I just missed you,” her voice broke as she wrapped her fingers around his shirt. “I was jealous.”
“And then I got here, and I found out we were supposed to be dating, but I didn’t know what was happening or how it happened. And I just felt like you didn’t want to be around me because I looked like me, but I wasn’t the me you wanted,” she added quietly. And she’d been jealous of herself, too. If that was even possible.
He tightened his arms around her when she began to speak. He shook his head a little at the mention of Malia, remembering how he’d assumed she had something to do with the Nogitsune back when the show’s last season had aired. He shut his eyes at the rest of her admission, then slowly pulled away to look at her.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, laying a hand on her shoulder. “I never don’t want to be around you, Lydia. You’re you.” He looked down. “I was afraid it probably freaked you out. Because I know that things are different now and I didn’t --” He bit his lip. “I didn’t want you to think that I had all these expectations of you so I just…” He winced. “Avoided you.”
“I’m sorry, too. Sorry you thought it was something so much bigger, Stiles.” And that he was no doubt beating himself up for ever since she got there.
He let out a breath. “I guess this is one of those reasons people always talk about communication being key, right?”
She smiled a little and nodded, looking down then back up at him. “And that the smartest people can still be complete idiots.”
A smile tugged at his mouth, too and he squeezed her shoulder gently. “Apparently.”
Lydia grew serious again and watched him for a long moment. “You believe me, right?” she asked quietly, her hands still resting on his sides.
“Yeah,” he said just as quietly, looking down. “I don’t really get it, but I do believe you.”
“I’ll try my best to explain,” she whispered, cocking her head and inching closer to catch his eye. “But I don’t really expect you to start understanding overnight.”
That was good, because he probably wouldn’t. He met her eyes and nodded, reaching up and taking one of her hands in his own. “The whole thing with Malia…” He hesitated. “I can’t really say much about it. I mean, I’ve never even met her. I don’t want to meet her.”
Lydia shook her head as she glanced down at their hands. “You don’t have to say anything about it. Even if you knew her.” She looked back at him. “But for a lot of reasons that go beyond my selfish ones, I do hope you don’t meet her.” Since she found out about Malia hurting him, since she saw how uncomfortable he looked with the whole thing, she started to want her away from him even more.
Stiles watched her curiously, wanting to know what she meant by that, but not sure he was ready to hear whatever her answer was, either. “The fact that she’s Peter’s daughter is enough for me to be wary,” he told her quietly.
“I’ll tell you,” she promised, knowing the look on his face. “Just not right now,” she said quietly. She didn’t want to talk about it, she didn’t need to make him feel bad about himself or uncomfortable with what was happening back home. It wasn’t going to impact him directly.
“Okay.” He nodded, giving her hand a squeeze. He hesitated for a second. “Do you -- want some help with the stuff you were working on?” Not that he could really do anything to help, but not offering felt wrong to him.
She smiled at his offer and squeezed his hand tightly as she nodded. “Yeah. I do.” She didn’t need to mention her theory to him right now, but at least she could test it. “You’re the one who always figures these things out.”
Stiles relaxed at her easy acceptance of his offer, though he didn’t want her to get her hopes up about his ability to figure out how banshee powers worked. “Should just open some kind of supernatural detective agency,” he joked.
“Sounds like you’d get plenty of business in this place,” she added. She knew the two of them were avoiding the other subject, and the last thing she wanted was for them to go into another misunderstanding like that, but it was a whole new level of complicated.
“We,” he corrected her. “I mean, we’d totally be partners, right? And Scott and Allison could be like, our backup for when we get ourselves into trouble that we can’t get out of.”
“Oh,” she said, her stomach tightening but she smiled. “I guess I could come in handy finding the dead bodies for you,” she teased and left out the part about getting the banshee thing down.
“And helping me figure things out.” He gave her a look.
“Well, yeah. You can solve the supernatural puzzles and I can handle the normal ones,” she added, squeezing his hand again.
“Sounds like a fair trade.” He smiled. “Come on. Let’s see what we can figure out.”
“Wait, you wanna do this now?” she asked, surprised. It was pretty late. “Don’t you have to work tomorrow morning?”
“Well. Yeah, I do, but this is kind of important.” He shrugged.
"It is." She hesitated for a second, she didn't want him to be exhausted during work. "I'll show you what I'm working on and then you can go get some rest and we'll work on it tomorrow."
“Sounds like a good plan,” he told her, nodding his agreement.
Lydia kept her hand around his and pulled him back toward the house. "C'mon Reese, it's bedtime," she said as she opened the door and the dog went running inside and toward the stairs.
Stiles followed her inside, the weight of her hand in his own comforting and familiar. But the weight he’d been feeling on his shoulders had lifted considerably.