Stydia One Shots

There

Did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts

Hot ashes for trees

Hot air for a cool breeze

Cold comfort for change

Did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage

- Wish You Were Here, Pink Floyd

---

"It's not your fault Stiles." Lydia murmured, sitting on the edge of his bed. Stiles sat in his desk chair, refusing to be close to her. He fidgeted, span in his chair slowly until he was dizzy then turned back around.

"But it is."

"No it's not."

"Stop trying to make me feel better."

He huffed and crossed his arms. She would've laughed at his childlike actions, but she didn't, wouldn't, couldn't. Stiles met her eyes, his arms still crossed, his eyes filled with shame. They looked away.

Stiles thought of all the bad things he'd done. Killed people, hooked up with some girl he forgot the name of, but one memory taunted him. It definitely wasn't the worst thing he'd done, but it was eating away at his soul.

He vaguely remembered it like a movie he fell asleep during. Lydia, pinned against the bars of Eichen House, and him, possessed by some wicked thing, pressed against her form.

She was quivering in fear and Stiles was screaming inside his own mind. Void had pressed his lips to her shoulder in a mockery of affection, inhaled her scent and felt a twinge of sickening desire in the pit of the boy's stomach.

The rest of the memory faded away. Void's thoughts hadn't been fulfilled, but it still left Stiles utterly broken.

"Come here." Lydia broke the silence. Stiles shook his head and uncrossed his arms, letting them droop at his sides. Distance was good. Distance meant he couldn't hurt her anymore then he already had.

"Stiles." Lydia said his name like a mom about to scold her child. Out of habit, Stiles walked over and sat next to her. Doing what Lydia Martin says is a good idea. She runs a hand through his hair and he shudders involuntarily.

"It's not your fault. Okay?" Lydia reassures him. Stiles swallows harshly and nods. He turns to her, ready to apologize for everything even though she said it was okay. He could stab Lydia repeatedly with a knife and she would stand tall in those heels of hers and say it's okay, she's just that type of person.

He finds them closer than before. Lydia's bare knee hits his jean-covered one. And her hand is still in his hair and their so fucking close, it's something he's imagined since he was 8.

His thoughts feel selfish. Their friend just died and he's thinking about kissing her.

Lydia raises an eyebrow as Stiles looks away. She moves her hand to his cheek and continues to rub soothing circles with her thumb into the warm skin there. "That's not helping." Stiles comments.

She proceeds anyways, puts to fingers under his chin and makes him look at her. He follows her without question, as she would do for him. "I- um-" Stiles stutters, his proximity to her making him a thousand times more nervous.

"It's not your fault." Lydia tells him again.

Stiles licks his lips and nods. He repeats her sentence, telling her that for the moment, he believed her.

---

Lydia sat next to Scott, who was comforting Chris and Isaac with gentle pats on the back. Stiles sat to the right of her, unable to look, his head pointed towards the floor. Guilt surrounded him, the werewolves in the room could probably smell it reeking out of every corner of his being.

Lydia, unlike Stiles, stared. She stared at the flowers and candles set out for her friend, the flimsy picture someone had chosen to use, she stared. Numb and unable to move.

An air conditioner was the only noise in the large room. The noises it was making was gentle, almost silent, soft grumbles of metal rubbing against metal. It kept a steady beat too, as if hypnotizing and mocking her at the same time.

It annoyed Lydia, didn't the air conditioner know that events like this were suppose to be quiet? Apparently not.

The strawberry blonde closed her eyes, hoping to be able to hear her. The vibrant, concrete whispers of Allison in her mind. She tried until she could see spots behind her eyelids.

In the end, Lydia was glad she couldn't find Allison among the voices. See, the voices that swam around the banshee's head were crazed and incomprehensible.

Even though she couldn't make out the words, she knew they were suppose to be menacing, laced with venom and darkness. Voices tried to push her over the brink of madness, tried to scream so loud that she would break.

Lydia didn't realize she was crying until a salty tear ran over her manicured fingernail. She whimpered, Stiles noticed instantly. Until he heard her breaking down, Stiles had barely noticed she was there.

It was his fault. Allison had died, Scott lost his first love, Isaac had lost the start of a beautiful relationship. And Lydia. The Lydia who got everything taken away from her, was crying, and it was all because of him.

Stiles wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his chest. He stroked her back until she seemed to calm a little. When he tried to move away, she grabbed a clump of his dress shirt and kept him there.

Scott rested a hand on her shoulder but kept his distance, it was merely a reminder that he was there.They leaned on each other for support and comfort. "I'm sorry." He told her in a whisper. "I'm sorry." He said it again, this time for himself, another time for Scott, another for Allison.

"I'm so goddamn sorry."

Lydia nodded, still pressed agains this chest, and he knew what it meant. She'd told him already. She was crying, her tears falling slower and her breathing less heavy then before now.

Stiles tilted his head and kissed her tears away, leaving small pecks across her face until she stopped shaking. He said apologizes with each kiss. Lydia was glad to have him there, holding her, making her feel better like she had him.

They're emotional tethers, drawn together by an invisible force. Being there for each other was their job.

A/N

Fuuuccckckckkckckck.

I'm sorry this got dark. I'm just low-key pissed off we didn't get a memorial scene for Allison sometime between episodes 3bx12 and 4x1. (even a 2-5 minute flashback)

I needed those feels to get over Allison's death but now I haven't and she lives on in fanfics.