Disconnected [allydia]

12 hours gone

SS: scott's in 20. u up?

Lydia grabbed her phone and rolled over to reply. Her pillow was wet with tears, her hair astray. Of course they'd want to talk about it, work their way through this. A part of Lydia craved isolation for mourning. No wonder banshees didn't work in packs.

Still, she tapped out a quick response.

LM: see you there

SS: we'll b ok

Lydia stared at the response, the three shorthand words laden with promises that couldn't be kept. She shook her head and put the phone down. Stiles had clearly already adopted her strategy: pretend to be alright until everything becomes bearable. For once, he was the one who was one step ahead.

Hair curled, makeup on, dressed nicely. Lydia looked as she would any day: composed, and better than anyone and everyone around her. Looking fine and feeling anything but, she left her house and made it to Scott's just on time.

Still, Lydia was the last to arrive. Her friends were sitting in Scott's living room, completely silent. Isaac lurked in the corner of the room, face unshaven and hard. Kira leaned against a couch as Scott sat atop it, staring at the ceiling and cracking open what clearly wasn't his first beer of the morning. Stiles sat on the other couch and moved over slightly in order to make room for Lydia.

She sat. Nobody else acknowledged her.

Lydia cleared her throat. No response. She sighed. "How is everyone?"

"Stupid question," Isaac muttered from his broody spot in the corner.

She shot him a deadly, pointed glare. He responded with empty eyes.

"We'll be okay," Stiles muttered.

"Bullshit," Scott said sharply. He wiped a stray dribble of beer off his cheek. He threw the now-empty can against the wall. It clattered to the floor with a sharp, metallic ring. Kira winced.

"Not well, then," said Lydia under her breath.

Isaac rammed his fist against the wall, eyes flashing yellow momentarily. "What the fuck did you expect to hear? 'Oh, yeah, this girl I was in love with died horribly last night, but you know what? I'm feeling great!'" He rolled his eyes. "Fuck off, Lydia. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."

The silence stung after Isaac's sudden outburst. Lydia sat quietly, eyes wide. "Noted," she whispered.

Stiles cleared his throat. "Listen, guys. I know none of us are really on top of our game right now." He gave a pointed look towards Scott as he used a claw to pop open yet another can of beer. "We just need to remember to try to stay calm. We're in this together, and we'll stick together." His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out. Stiles pursed his lips. "That being said, I'm going over to Derek's for a bit to try and get some sleep. Um." Lydia arched an eyebrow at him, and he sighed. "We'll take care of each other, yeah?"

Nobody responded. With a tiny nod, Stiles was out the door.

The click of the door behind him. Then, again, silence. Lydia pulled out her phone, opened the conversation she so frequently smiled at.

LM: it's 12:56 pm and we're already falling apart without you. you were the glue. we all need you

She hit send, slowly typed out another response.

LM: i need you.