Stydia ○ A Collection

Sacrifices.

Lydia lifted her head from where it previously lay on Stiles' shoulder. She glanced around worryingly, unable to find what she was looking for. Who she was looking for.
'Your looking for Jackson.' Stiles realised, regaining Lydia's attention. She nodded, and Stiles huffed. 'I check the locker room. Do you wanna look outside?
'Thanks you.' Lydia smiled, and split away from Stiles. She walked out of the room and made her way down the silent corridor. Stiles had gone in the opposite direction, so she was alone.
Once exiting the building, she speedily made her way to the lacrosse field. With the lights off, it was almost impossible to see anything. Lydia dashed to the centre of the field, careful not to trip on her heels. She spun around frantically, hoping for the revelation of Jackson; he was still nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly, the lights sprung to life, illuminating the pitch.
'Jackson?' Lydia yelled, exasperated. 'Jackson?' She rotated once more, to see a silhouette striding towards her. 'Jackson...'
Realisation swept over her like the fresh draft of the breeze, just as she heard a voice exclaim, 'Lydia, run!' She turned to see Stiles running towards her, but it was already too late.
The unknown figure had stopped behind Lydia, and placed a surprisingly gentle hand on her shoulder.
'Peter!' Stiles ran over to them, panting heavily. 'Please, don't do anything to her. She doesn't deserve it...' He trailed off; lost for words; thinking it was hopeless.
The man, so called Peter, inhaled a deep breath. 'Stiles... Luckily, it's not her that I want.' He explained. 'It's you.'
He smirked devilishly. 'I won't hurt her, if, and only if, you join my pack.'
Lydia shivered, still under the touch of Peter. 'What does he mean, pack, Stiles?' She feared she already knew the answer.
'I thought you were clever Lydia.' Peter tutted. 'Honestly, you should know what animals a pack consists of.'
Lydia thought, attempting to think of an alternate answer. When she realised there was only one response, she spoke it out loud. 'Wild dogs... Like, wolves.' She gulped, as Peter moved his hand off her shoulder to her throat. His other dug into her stomach.
'Yes, congratulations.' Peter said, patronisingly. 'I guess you can work out the rest.'
Lydia snuck a glance at Stiles, who wore a melancholy expression. 'So, um...' Would she believe the answer, even of she was told truthfully? 'You're a w-werewolf?' She stuttered, anxiously. She hadn't removed her eyes from Stiles, and she therefore saw the desolate nod he proceeded to answer with.
'And you want Stiles in your p-pack?' Lydia wanted answers, no matter how much she dreaded them.
'Yes. He's what I need: intelligent; brave; helpful.' Peter answered.
'And if you don't get him in your pack...' Lydia trailed off. She understood the consequences.
'You'll die, and we all know Stiles wouldn't want that.'
Peter looked to Stiles, as did Lydia. He gulped, and spoke throatily: 'I'll join your stupid pack. Just... Let Lydia go.'
'Stiles...' Lydia said. 'You don't have to-' She was cut off by Stiles.
'Lydia, yes, I do! You don't get. If you die, I'll literally go out of my frickin' mind!' He yelled, exasperated. There was a long pause, until Peter spoke.
'Yes, this is all very heartwarming. You have 3 seconds to give me what I want, or she dies.' Peter was getting impatient. Stiles ran over; he couldn't let Lydia die.
Stiles had stopped a foot away, and he outstretched his arm. 'Do it.' Peter had loosened his grip on Lydia, giving her room to move freely. Just as Peter's mouth was nearing Stiles' arm, Lydia lurched forward, forcing Stiles away.
Peter roared in anger, taking Lydia into his arms the same way as before.
'Lydia!' Stiles screamed, but it was too late for her to respond. Peter's claws dug deep into both her neck and stomach. She screamed piercingly, and collapsed to the rough floor.
Stiles immediately rushed to her side, droppings down beside her.
'Lydia...' He breathed, her eyes blinked, and reopened slowly.
'Jackson...' Lydia said quietly.
Stiles looked around, 'We'll find him. Don't worry, just let me call Melissa...' Lydia stopped him from continuing by shushing him silent.
'Go...' Her eyes closed, and she went silent. Stiles looked up to Peter, who rolled his eyes.
'She's still breathing if you must know. But you won't be if-'
'Lydia!' Stiles looked to the source of the noise, and saw Jackson sprinting over as if on cue. Before he could reopen his mouth, Stiles began to talk.
'Find Scott, get his Mom on the phone. She needs an ambulance.' Surprisingly, Jackson didn't hesitate. He ran back in the direction of which he came.
Stiles turned to look at Peter, but he was no longer there. It was just Stiles and Lydia.
'You'll be okay... I love you Lydia...' Stiles said, attempting to keep calm.
'I... Love you... Too.' Lydia said, taking Stiles aback.
He smiled, and placed his hand in Lydia's. And that's how it stayed: peacefully waiting for helps arrival.