Black Webs

Goners

In the winter night sky ships are sailing,
looking down on these bright blue city lights.
And they won't wait, and they won't wait,
and they won't wait.

(x)

we were the children born under the bridges,
in parking lots,
at 3 am, we are filled with rain
one hand holding a bottle of whiskey, the other
clenched into a fist,
shaking at the sky that has
refused to answer us

To all the gods we believed in as children;
love and significance;
you are foresaken but not forgotten,
and in this empty void we hear your call,
we'd come crawling back every time
knees scraped and bloody,
hearts unquenchable, hoping just for a taste,
of what was promised to us, so many years ago

- silver-afternoons on Tumblr

xxxxx

t w e n t y - f o u r

L y d i a

Lydia almost couldn't believe it, so instead of getting the hell out of dodge, she just sat there; frozen in her spot and gawking at the wolf boy.

"You're actually here," she acknowledged. "This is actually happening?"

Derek Hale rolled his eyes, and tugged at one of her arms. "I'll explain later, right now, we've got to escape a Stiles shaped lunatic. Let's go –" he said.

Lydia nodded vigorously, blinking the fog out of her eyes and shot up, relieved and shell-shocked and still terrified at the same time.

"Oh, for crying out loud," came Derek's voice from behind her, which made her turn around to look.

He was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his head shaking, a stance her mother often took when she was disappointed at Lydia when she came home at five in the morning on Friday nights.

He was staring at Stiles' Board of Creeptastic Things. "I always had a feeling that this kid was a grade A perv," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

"Hey," Lydia snapped her fingers loud enough to catch his attention. "I thought you said action first, ask questions later. What are we waiting for?" she snapped. Derek frowned but nodded and they darted out of the room, Void was face-down on the floor, knocked out cold, and a crashed flower pot lay by his side; vomiting mud and bright petals.

There were several signs of a struggle. "He won't stay down for long," Derek muttered, eyeing his handiwork as they dashed towards the elevator, leaving Void right where he was. "Shouldn't we tie him up?" she asked. "My pack will take care of him, right now, I have to get you out of immediate danger, or the Argent girl is going to have my head," Lydia felt her heart stutter. "So they're alright?"

"They'll live," he replied, cryptically, as the elevator doors slid open and they slipped in. Once inside, Lydia tried to recall what the living room they'd just passed looked like, all she could remember was aureate furnishing, a silver chandelier and the destroyed flowers.

Also Stiles' body limp on the floor, looking deader than ever. It made something in her chest shatter like stained glass.

"What is this place?"

"My guess? Stern's evil lair," replied Derek.

"Where are we going?" she asked. "You'll see,"

"Why can't you just answer me like a normal person?" she grilled. "You know, you ask a hell of a lot of questions," Derek commented.