The Darkness: 4

Part 13

Italics- nogitsune's whispers

Lydia

Lydia's hands were weak to the point she couldn't control her wheelchair. The elevator shuttle reached the bottom and Felicity pushed her into the lair. The bright green colors of the lair didn't fit the mood the two were feeling.

Felicity wheeled her to the lounge area and struggled to lift her on the couch. She took deep breaths before laying a blanket on her lap. Lydia stared blankly at her shiny legs, hardly aware of her presence. She could hear her faint sniffling and her heels clacking, faded away.

She was filled with mixed emotions she didn't know Void could feel. Even though she was possessed, she still had access to deep parts of her heart. Everything was coming in at once, both the whispers of a banshee and the essence of the corpse.

In her head, the two were arguing. She listened to them as thunder filled the noises around her. Her hands rested on her lap as she stared at the table in front of her. The wheelchair on the side stared back at her and lightning struck again.

To anger a banshee was like wanting a curse set on you. But an angry nogitsune would take its time. Take time and plan out the moves in the game, creating tricks and divine moves. Both of them combined... hell.

At first, the game was just Thea, Sara, Kate, and the Berserkers. But now with Laurel gone, the only thing she could think of was pain, chaos, and strife, wrapped around with death. The new game was going to be complex and unfathomable. She was going to release havoc.

Lydia didn't know when the pack and team came back in but it was quiet. They were all mourning. Some from the death of Laurel and others, a resurfacing of Allison's.

It was absolutely silent in the lair but it broke when Lance punched the dummy with anger. From that, she finally snapped out. The rumbling in her head filled and she tried to keep her mouth close. She leaned on her hand and with the exhale, she let out a faint scream that shook the underground bunker.

Pain.

She finally released herself from the agony she was suppressing and drowned back into her dazed state.

She lifted herself up with her arms and landed into her seat, shortly adjusting her body. "You need help?" Felicity's voice cracked and she ignored her. Her hand traveled up to the controls and she drove herself into the elevator.

Malia

No one felt like speaking and they all made eye contact to go home, to sleep. Only if they could.

Malia, Kira, and Felicity entered the loft and the two dispersed into the rooms. The guys didn't come back. She figured they were brooding and mourning at the same time.

Her hand trailed the marble counter and she opened the fridge to make herself a sandwich. All she could do was eat. She slowly spread the peanut butter and jelly on each side of bread, taking a big bite. Then another, and again, until she was finished and dusted off her hands.

As she went up the stairs, her ear twitched and she could hear water running. Malia knocked on Lydia's door but there was no answer. She hesitated, reaching to the handle but then opened it.

"It's Malia," she said, walking in. The room was quiet and the sound of the shower grew louder. The lights were dimmed and the bathroom was well lit.

Malia slowly tiptoed into the foggy bathroom and saw Lydia's figure through the blurry glass. She was sitting on a bench that was built for her, letting the water run down her body. She exhaled, taking off her ankle boots and socks, stepping into the shower. She glanced at Lydia who was unaware of her presence and turned off the water.

She slipped her hand under her knees and behind her back, carrying her out the shower. Even though Lydia had the strength to body slam a man who was two times stronger than her, she felt as light as a feather.

The water dropped down Malia's legs, soaking her body, and she wrapped a towel around Lydia. The main reason she was helping her was that she had the strength to carry her. Sometimes Felicity would help but she and Kira would feel awkward seeing her naked. Malia didn't mind, they had the same body parts.

She set her down on the edge of the bed and went into the drawers to pick out pajamas. As she turned around, Lydia's eyes wandered blankly. She was catatonic. Mute. Helpless.

Even though Malia was less cold-hearted than before, she wasn't blind to see Lydia and Laurel's connection. She saw how they cared for each other. Even in the short time she knew Laurel, they were alike. Strong, brave, and straightforward. They weren't the type to sugarcoat their words to make it seem that everything was fine.

She could tell Lydia had given up and chemosignals of pain and anger filled the room. Malia could roar in her face to wake her up, but all she needed was time, time to heal. It was her second friend dying. A third from the wrath of the nogitsune. A reason why Ethan didn't come, so he didn't have to face the reason his brother was dead.

Malia didn't know Allison. To the pack, this was a repeat. She could understand the pain they were feeling to mourn with them after knowing what it was like to lose family.

The pack recognized Allison as a new beacon of hope, especially with the code. Some would say Alice looked like her but Malia never saw the resemblance.

She was happy when Argent and Melissa got married and had a little girl. They new to protect her with the fact it was Scott's younger sister.

It was hard for Malia to understand how Scott did it. Ever since high school, he had been an alpha to a great pack. He balanced out his job at the vet he owned during the day and the supernatural at night. Sometimes he'd leave some work for Liam and the full-time emissary, Deaton, to help the newly recruited betas to spend time with her.

The two have been together for eight years but nothing's really peaked. The thought of marriage did cross her mind but she didn't know of Scott was ready. He was filled with work that he didn't know how to handle and hardly got any sleep.

Kids.

Argent and Melissa reasoned all of the possibilities of not bringing a child into their chaotic world but they still did. In Malia's eyes, she was quite confused. Like her mother, she released power into her, making her weak. But she also remembered that Talia had told Corinne that having a child was a gift. A gift to share power through your offspring.

When Malia was done putting Lydia's clothes on, she carried her to her side of the bed and laid her on the pillow. She laid stiffly and her head boggled to the side, letting her eyes roll back before they closed.

"It's gonna be okay," Malia whispered, pulling the blanket up her chest. She backed away, turning off the lights, and took a last glance at her before leaving.

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Supermodel- SZA (Acoustic Intrumental)

Malia, the caregiver

I wasn't really planning on this but writing it was easy and smooth to let everything out.