𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 ━━ LYDIA MARTIN

96

"YOU SAID YOU HAD a lead," were the first words that Reid said as he approached Scott, Stiles and Meredith who stared at him. They were standing near Stiles's jeep in front of Scott's house.

"Dude you look like shit." Stiles commented as he took in his friend's appearance.

Reid had spent rest of his day walking around Beacon Hills, looking for Lydia even though he knew he wouldn't find her that way.

It was a waste of time. He couldn't find her scent anywhere and it worried him. He was absolutely hopeless, he couldn't even find her car.

Next thing he knew, he was sitting on his couch, in his living room, having done three lines already. His head was thrown back on the couch and his eyes were closed. He was relieved that he hadn't felt as if she's died yet. 

It wasn't until he got a call from Scott who told him that he found a lead about where Lydia could be that he found himself getting off the couch to go meet them.

"We think we do," Scott corrected while Reid dismissed what Stiles had said. "Meredith here can probably help us."

"See," Reid lowered his voice, clenching his jaw, "that's not what you told me over the phone. You said you have a lead— with certainty. That's why I'm here."

"We need you here," Scott muttered, "look, we all want to find Lydia, okay? We'll get this job done faster if you help us rather than stay at your house and stress about it—" Scott scrunched up his nose, "— and what is that smell?"

"It's nothing," Reid brushed it off, knowing he was probably reeking of chemicals. "So is she our lead?" He flickered his eyes to Meredith, "what does she know?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Scott said, nodding towards the door, "let's go inside." With a nod from the others, he opened the door and they all stepped in only to stop in their tracks when they saw Rafael and Isaac in front of them.

"Fucking great."

"What are you doing here?" Scott questioned earning a look from his father, "I could ask you the same thing."

"Free period," Stiles jumped in, "we're doing group study."

"Who's she?"

"She's my girlfriend..." Stiles trailer off, answering Rafael's question as he draped an arm around Meredith's shoulders. She looked at him, "you're not my type."

Stiles cleared his throat, "well, obviously, we have a lot to talk about... We should maybe take this upstairs?"

"He's my type," Meredith said, looking at Isaac whose eyes widened slightly. Stiles hummed, "okay, Isaac, you can come, too."

"Hey, Dad?" Scott intervened, "I'll explain all of this later."

"I don't care that you're not in school," Rafael muttered, "I know your grades are fine. All I want to do is talk."

"Now's really not a good time," Scott shook his head. 

"Scott," Rafael insisted, "we need to talk."

"Great," Reid cut in, growing impatient, "while you guys are at it, we'll be upstairs." Then, he walked away, going to Scott's room with Stiles, Meredith and Isaac following him.

|•|

"Lydia?" Meredith repeated the name, recognition in her voice, "you mean, the red-haired girl."

"Yes!" Stiles exclaimed, "yes! Good! Progress! Now, all you got to do is tell us where she is."

"Okay," Meredith muttered, looking at them, "if she tells me."

"If she tells you?" Isaac repeated, his face holding confusion, "can you ask her?"

Meredith smiled, "I already did."

"Perfect," Stiles clasped his hands together, "perfect! What did she say?"

"She says she doesn't want to be found," Meredith revealed earning a loud scoff from Reid who was leaning against the wall, about to call her out on her bullshit any second now.

"That's good, too," Stiles huffed, shooting Reid a warning look, wordlessly telling him to not say anything. "Okay," he muttered, looking at Reid and Isaac before gesturing for them to follow him to a corner of the room.

"I think we should torture the answers out of her," Isaac quietly suggested, looking rather pleased with what he said. Reid hummed in agreement which earned them both a scoff from Stiles. "You guys are not going to torture her."

"I didn't mean literally torture," Isaac corrected, "I meant scare her."

"We're not gonna psychologically torture her either!" Stiles exclaimed in exasperation, throwing his hands up.

"Fine," Isaac muttered, staring at Meredith while Reid sighed, "well, we're gonna have to make her speak. I can do that."

"Reid, no," Stiles shot him a pointed look, "the last thing we need is a dead body on our hands."

"Okay, how about this—" Isaac began, grabbing the attention of the two boys, "you said she hears things, right? Doesn't that mean she's like Lydia? A Banshee?"

Their eyes darted to Meredith who was still sitting on the edge of the bed as she stared blankly in front of her, toying with her fingers, taking Isaac's theory into considering before they found themselves going near her again.

Stiles knelt down in front of her, "okay, just try to focus on the sounds around you. On what you're hearing. Just focus on the silence."

"Listen to the silence," Isaac added as Stiles spoke again, "focusing on the silence."

"Listening to the silen—" Isaac was cut off by Reid who didn't look at him and kept his eyes on Meredith as he said, "it's anything but silent here so maybe if you two would just shut the fuck up—"

"Sorry," Isaac mumbled earning a sigh from Stiles, "okay, will you just let us handle this, Isaac? Please? I just— Reid and I have more experience with Banshees."

"Yeah, and mental patients—" Isaac muttered which resulted in a small glare from Stiles.

"For fuck's sake," Reid groaned making Meredith glance at him before her eyes fell on Stiles, "isn't anyone going to get that?"

"Get what?"

"The phone," she replied which earned her confused looks, "what phone?"

"The phone," Isaac muttered, pointing to his pocket along with Meredith. Stiles faked a look of recognition, looking at Reid who was biting his lips, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. "Oh, the phone! My phone, yes—" Stiles pretended to answer the phone, "hello? Yes, she's actually sitting right here— It's for you."

He handed the phone over to Meredith who was silent for a while until she spoke, "they say coup de foudre."

"Coup de— what?" Stiles repeated, confused, "what is that, Spanish?"

"It's french," Reid spoke up at the same time as Scott walked in the room.