He’s trying his best to keep himself from completelyunraveling in front of Lydia ; she didn’t need this, she didn’t need him to crybecause he couldn’t pick himself back up. The anger that he’d had is nowcompletely suffocated, the burning flame ( even as small as it was ) washed outby his guilt. She never meant to hurt him – he knows this & still he’sacting as if he didn’t. There was still frustration, but most of it wasself-directed. The movement he sees from the corner of his eyes temporarilystills the storm in his mind, and he turns his head towards her as she speaks.
“ I wish you would’ve asked me. “ He responds, voice thick from emotion. Stilesclears his throat and his gaze drops from hers to the petite hands sittingrestlessly in her lap. She doesn’t know what to do, and he can tell by her bodylanguage. Risking the possibility of a negative reaction, his own hand moves tocarefully take hers. He’d held her hand so many times, and right now it was asimple comfort that he needed more than anything else. He gently thumbs herknuckles, all the while wondering how the Hell things ended up like this.
It was ironic that through all of the supernatural occurrences in Beacon Hills,their biggest conflict would be themselves. He found it funny how there wasn’tany werewolf or kitsune that ruined his internship opportunity, but himself.There was a weird twist of fate that came with things like that ; and though ittook Lydia two years to come back, she did. There was a possibility that shewouldn’t return at all – and that, as a thought, was something horrendous toStiles. The idea of being eternally separated from Lydia – from his emotionaltether – was something he couldn’t bare to imagine.
Finally, Stiles was starting to come to terms with what’d happened. Lydia’stouch anchored him through the radical motions of his feelings, and though hefeels bad for how he’d initially reacted, it’d been authentic. He still caresjust as much for Lydia as he did when she’d left. That love never left his heart,even if it was empty in her absence. The brunet seems a little better, now ;honey eyes were still glazed with remnants of tears, but he felt better. He’dbottled up a dangerous combination of emotions for years, and only just now hadthe ability to share them with someone. With her.
He clears his throat, gaze still trained on their laced hands while hecontinues to piece himself back together again. It would take time to get oversomething like this, but he’ll manage. The fact that Lydia herself was here& with him was enough to begin the healing process, even if she couldn’tstay. Her showing up to begin with was finally the closure he needed to get himto open up, even if it was gradual. “ How can you say that? “ He asks, finallybrave enough to meet her eyes again. “ You couldn’t have known how I would’vefelt with you. Lydia—you could’ve asked me to go to the middle of the damndesert with you, and I wouldn’t be miserable. “
He’s trying his best to keep himself from completelyunraveling in front of Lydia ; she didn’t need this, she didn’t need him to crybecause he couldn’t pick himself back up. The anger that he’d had is nowcompletely suffocated, the burning flame ( even as small as it was ) washed outby his guilt. She never meant to hurt him – he knows this & still he’sacting as if he didn’t. There was still frustration, but most of it wasself-directed. The movement he sees from the corner of his eyes temporarilystills the storm in his mind, and he turns his head towards her as she speaks.
“ I wish you would’ve asked me. “ He responds, voice thick from emotion. Stilesclears his throat and his gaze drops from hers to the petite hands sittingrestlessly in her lap. She doesn’t know what to do, and he can tell by her bodylanguage. Risking the possibility of a negative reaction, his own hand moves tocarefully take hers. He’d held her hand so many times, and right now it was asimple comfort that he needed more than anything else. He gently thumbs herknuckles, all the while wondering how the Hell things ended up like this.
It was ironic that through all of the supernatural occurrences in Beacon Hills,their biggest conflict would be themselves. He found it funny how there wasn’tany werewolf or kitsune that ruined his internship opportunity, but himself.There was a weird twist of fate that came with things like that ; and though ittook Lydia two years to come back, she did. There was a possibility that shewouldn’t return at all – and that, as a thought, was something horrendous toStiles. The idea of being eternally separated from Lydia – from his emotionaltether – was something he couldn’t bare to imagine.
Finally, Stiles was starting to come to terms with what’d happened. Lydia’stouch anchored him through the radical motions of his feelings, and though hefeels bad for how he’d initially reacted, it’d been authentic. He still caresjust as much for Lydia as he did when she’d left. That love never left his heart,even if it was empty in her absence. The brunet seems a little better, now ;honey eyes were still glazed with remnants of tears, but he felt better. He’dbottled up a dangerous combination of emotions for years, and only just now hadthe ability to share them with someone. With her.
He clears his throat, gaze still trained on their laced hands while hecontinues to piece himself back together again. It would take time to get oversomething like this, but he’ll manage. The fact that Lydia herself was here& with him was enough to begin the healing process, even if she couldn’tstay. Her showing up to begin with was finally the closure he needed to get himto open up, even if it was gradual. “ How can you say that? “ He asks, finallybrave enough to meet her eyes again. “ You couldn’t have known how I would’vefelt with you. Lydia—you could’ve asked me to go to the middle of the damndesert with you, and I wouldn’t be miserable. “
He’s trying his best to keep himself from completelyunraveling in front of Lydia ; she didn’t need this, she didn’t need him to crybecause he couldn’t pick himself back up. The anger that he’d had is nowcompletely suffocated, the burning flame ( even as small as it was ) washed outby his guilt. She never meant to hurt him – he knows this & still he’sacting as if he didn’t. There was still frustration, but most of it wasself-directed. The movement he sees from the corner of his eyes temporarilystills the storm in his mind, and he turns his head towards her as she speaks.
“ I wish you would’ve asked me. “ He responds, voice thick from emotion. Stilesclears his throat and his gaze drops from hers to the petite hands sittingrestlessly in her lap. She doesn’t know what to do, and he can tell by her bodylanguage. Risking the possibility of a negative reaction, his own hand moves tocarefully take hers. He’d held her hand so many times, and right now it was asimple comfort that he needed more than anything else. He gently thumbs herknuckles, all the while wondering how the Hell things ended up like this.
It was ironic that through all of the supernatural occurrences in Beacon Hills,their biggest conflict would be themselves. He found it funny how there wasn’tany werewolf or kitsune that ruined his internship opportunity, but himself.There was a weird twist of fate that came with things like that ; and though ittook Lydia two years to come back, she did. There was a possibility that shewouldn’t return at all – and that, as a thought, was something horrendous toStiles. The idea of being eternally separated from Lydia – from his emotionaltether – was something he couldn’t bare to imagine.
Finally, Stiles was starting to come to terms with what’d happened. Lydia’stouch anchored him through the radical motions of his feelings, and though hefeels bad for how he’d initially reacted, it’d been authentic. He still caresjust as much for Lydia as he did when she’d left. That love never left his heart,even if it was empty in her absence. The brunet seems a little better, now ;honey eyes were still glazed with remnants of tears, but he felt better. He’dbottled up a dangerous combination of emotions for years, and only just now hadthe ability to share them with someone. With her.
He clears his throat, gaze still trained on their laced hands while hecontinues to piece himself back together again. It would take time to get oversomething like this, but he’ll manage. The fact that Lydia herself was here& with him was enough to begin the healing process, even if she couldn’tstay. Her showing up to begin with was finally the closure he needed to get himto open up, even if it was gradual. “ How can you say that? “ He asks, finallybrave enough to meet her eyes again. “ You couldn’t have known how I would’vefelt with you. Lydia—you could’ve asked me to go to the middle of the damndesert with you, and I wouldn’t be miserable. “
Herquestion makes Stiles take in a small breath, not really sure how to answer it.“ When I was there, it was great for a little while, but… “ He shrugs ashoulder. “ I didn’t feel like it was the right thing for me. Not right now, atleast. Maybe I’ll go back next year and beg for the internship again. “ Therewas an attempt of something humorous in the last of his words, but it didn’treally show. He couldn’t really be bothered to put more of an effort in it whenhe knows it wouldn’t take, anyways. The tension in the air was too thick,especially with the mention of Quantico. It was something that both his fatherand Scott begged him not to do ; but he couldn’t. There were more important things,like finding Lydia.
Stiles doesn’t face her on the couch, yet. Not until she starts talking. Hetilts curious and tired features towards her, glad that she was at least doingwell. That was good ; he always knew she’d do well at M.I.T. She was anintelligent woman – the smartest person he knew. There was a pain in his chestthat was indescribable ; maybe it was the fact that he should’ve been alongsideher at some point. He can’t let his mind wander there – he’ll feel twice asdejected as he does now. “ Yeah? “ He asks after a few moments, clearing histhroat. “ That’s good. That you’re doing alright, I mean. But I wouldn’t worrytoo much about what to do after M.I.T. You’ll figure things out. “
Something in the back of his mind is telling him that this isn’t how thingsshould be going. After everything he’d felt in the past two years, shouldn’tthere be some kind of yelling? He felt a lot of anger ; it was unfair thatthings happened the way they did. He didn’t understand it, which only added adangerous hint to the concoction of emotions he felt. There were plenty oftimes where he’d thrown some kind of rage-induced fit – the investigation he’dhad on the crime board was in tatters, now, with half of the marker erased byfrustrated hand-prints. But that part of his brain was illogical & beggingfor some kind of conflict. But that wasn’t what he wanted – not now, not ever.He knows that Lydia had her own reasons for leaving Beacon Hills, and that hecouldn’t possibly be able to understand what she must’ve been going through.But he wishes that he could’ve at least been there as a shoulder to lean on.
After a few more painful moments of silence, the raging storm inside of his mind wasbegging to unfurl. He wanted to know why things ended up the way they did whenthey were so close. She can’t pretend like the Wild Hunt didn’t happen – thattheir kiss didn’t happen. He had so many questions & he was so confusedwith everything. Finally, he can’t take it anymore. “ Why? “ His voice is quieter than it had been when he forced himself to speak up. Now,his voice was filled with a simple fragility that lingered behind one simpleword – why. He wanted the truth, and he wanted to know if tearing himself upover this was worth it. He cares so much about the strawberry-blonde, and theywere on a level of emotional connection that no one else could understand – buthe couldn’t bring himself to find any kind of motive to run. “ I just… need toknow why. “
Herquestion makes Stiles take in a small breath, not really sure how to answer it.“ When I was there, it was great for a little while, but… “ He shrugs ashoulder. “ I didn’t feel like it was the right thing for me. Not right now, atleast. Maybe I’ll go back next year and beg for the internship again. “ Therewas an attempt of something humorous in the last of his words, but it didn’treally show. He couldn’t really be bothered to put more of an effort in it whenhe knows it wouldn’t take, anyways. The tension in the air was too thick,especially with the mention of Quantico. It was something that both his fatherand Scott begged him not to do ; but he couldn’t. There were more important things,like finding Lydia.
Stiles doesn’t face her on the couch, yet. Not until she starts talking. Hetilts curious and tired features towards her, glad that she was at least doingwell. That was good ; he always knew she’d do well at M.I.T. She was anintelligent woman – the smartest person he knew. There was a pain in his chestthat was indescribable ; maybe it was the fact that he should’ve been alongsideher at some point. He can’t let his mind wander there – he’ll feel twice asdejected as he does now. “ Yeah? “ He asks after a few moments, clearing histhroat. “ That’s good. That you’re doing alright, I mean. But I wouldn’t worrytoo much about what to do after M.I.T. You’ll figure things out. “
Something in the back of his mind is telling him that this isn’t how thingsshould be going. After everything he’d felt in the past two years, shouldn’tthere be some kind of yelling? He felt a lot of anger ; it was unfair thatthings happened the way they did. He didn’t understand it, which only added adangerous hint to the concoction of emotions he felt. There were plenty oftimes where he’d thrown some kind of rage-induced fit – the investigation he’dhad on the crime board was in tatters, now, with half of the marker erased byfrustrated hand-prints. But that part of his brain was illogical & beggingfor some kind of conflict. But that wasn’t what he wanted – not now, not ever.He knows that Lydia had her own reasons for leaving Beacon Hills, and that hecouldn’t possibly be able to understand what she must’ve been going through.But he wishes that he could’ve at least been there as a shoulder to lean on.
After a few more painful moments of silence, the raging storm inside of his mind wasbegging to unfurl. He wanted to know why things ended up the way they did whenthey were so close. She can’t pretend like the Wild Hunt didn’t happen – thattheir kiss didn’t happen. He had so many questions & he was so confusedwith everything. Finally, he can’t take it anymore. “ Why? “ His voice is quieter than it had been when he forced himself to speak up. Now,his voice was filled with a simple fragility that lingered behind one simpleword – why. He wanted the truth, and he wanted to know if tearing himself upover this was worth it. He cares so much about the strawberry-blonde, and theywere on a level of emotional connection that no one else could understand – buthe couldn’t bring himself to find any kind of motive to run. “ I just… need toknow why. “
Herquestion makes Stiles take in a small breath, not really sure how to answer it.“ When I was there, it was great for a little while, but… “ He shrugs ashoulder. “ I didn’t feel like it was the right thing for me. Not right now, atleast. Maybe I’ll go back next year and beg for the internship again. “ Therewas an attempt of something humorous in the last of his words, but it didn’treally show. He couldn’t really be bothered to put more of an effort in it whenhe knows it wouldn’t take, anyways. The tension in the air was too thick,especially with the mention of Quantico. It was something that both his fatherand Scott begged him not to do ; but he couldn’t. There were more important things,like finding Lydia.
Stiles doesn’t face her on the couch, yet. Not until she starts talking. Hetilts curious and tired features towards her, glad that she was at least doingwell. That was good ; he always knew she’d do well at M.I.T. She was anintelligent woman – the smartest person he knew. There was a pain in his chestthat was indescribable ; maybe it was the fact that he should’ve been alongsideher at some point. He can’t let his mind wander there – he’ll feel twice asdejected as he does now. “ Yeah? “ He asks after a few moments, clearing histhroat. “ That’s good. That you’re doing alright, I mean. But I wouldn’t worrytoo much about what to do after M.I.T. You’ll figure things out. “
Something in the back of his mind is telling him that this isn’t how thingsshould be going. After everything he’d felt in the past two years, shouldn’tthere be some kind of yelling? He felt a lot of anger ; it was unfair thatthings happened the way they did. He didn’t understand it, which only added adangerous hint to the concoction of emotions he felt. There were plenty oftimes where he’d thrown some kind of rage-induced fit – the investigation he’dhad on the crime board was in tatters, now, with half of the marker erased byfrustrated hand-prints. But that part of his brain was illogical & beggingfor some kind of conflict. But that wasn’t what he wanted – not now, not ever.He knows that Lydia had her own reasons for leaving Beacon Hills, and that hecouldn’t possibly be able to understand what she must’ve been going through.But he wishes that he could’ve at least been there as a shoulder to lean on.
After a few more painful moments of silence, the raging storm inside of his mind wasbegging to unfurl. He wanted to know why things ended up the way they did whenthey were so close. She can’t pretend like the Wild Hunt didn’t happen – thattheir kiss didn’t happen. He had so many questions & he was so confusedwith everything. Finally, he can’t take it anymore. “ Why? “ His voice is quieter than it had been when he forced himself to speak up. Now,his voice was filled with a simple fragility that lingered behind one simpleword – why. He wanted the truth, and he wanted to know if tearing himself upover this was worth it. He cares so much about the strawberry-blonde, and theywere on a level of emotional connection that no one else could understand – buthe couldn’t bring himself to find any kind of motive to run. “ I just… need toknow why. “
Afterallowing Lydia in, he follows behind & closes the door after them. Stilestakes note of how at a loss she is ; it felt like it was the first time she’dever been at his house, which was far from the truth. A lot of their investigationshappened here – but his father never seemed to mind it. Maybe he wasappreciative of the thought of Stiles finding a group he could identify with, evenif he was the only human in it. A lot in Stiles’ attitude & characterchanged after she left, but that wasn’t something he really wanted to delveinto. He didn’t want to guilt Lydia – there’s not a doubt in his mind that shewas doing that enough.
“ Do you want the truth? “ He asks, letting out a soft sigh. Of course shewanted the truth – his sarcasm was just flaring in defense. Maybe he couldn’tcope with the fact he’d have to come to terms with how much he’d changed. “ Icould be better. It’s been hard. “ His own gaze was trained somewhere else.There wasn’t enough strength in him to meet her gaze again, right now ; talkingabout the reality of things was draining him quickly. “ Dad’s been picking updouble-shifts. I…uh, I never went back to Quantico. “
There’s more he wants to say, and the strain is clear behind amber hues as theyfinally travel back to Lydia’s face. He takes in a slow breath, knowing thatthe truth wasn’t going to help the fact that she was beating herself up. Hedidn’t want that ; but he didn’t want to lie. This wasn’t how he imagined theirreunion conversation going, but this was the realism of it. It wouldn’t be allsunshine & happiness – they were people, they had emotions & thingsaren’t as easy as they seem in fairy-tales. Lydia looks like she might collapseat any second ; the anxiety laced in her feminine features make it obvious. “Here—let’s sit down on the couch. “
Carefully & as gently as he can, Stiles rests a hand on her back andlightly guides her to the living room. He knows that she knows where it is –but he also knows that anxiety isn’t an easy thing to cope with. Anxiety wassomething that he’d become experienced with, and he knows Lydia wasn’tlingering just inside the doorway because she forgot where things were. Hewalks with her to the couch, sitting down on one side and leaving the otheropen for her. He clasps his hands together in his lap, waiting for her to sitdown so that he could return an inquiry. “ What about you? “
Afterallowing Lydia in, he follows behind & closes the door after them. Stilestakes note of how at a loss she is ; it felt like it was the first time she’dever been at his house, which was far from the truth. A lot of their investigationshappened here – but his father never seemed to mind it. Maybe he wasappreciative of the thought of Stiles finding a group he could identify with, evenif he was the only human in it. A lot in Stiles’ attitude & characterchanged after she left, but that wasn’t something he really wanted to delveinto. He didn’t want to guilt Lydia – there’s not a doubt in his mind that shewas doing that enough.
“ Do you want the truth? “ He asks, letting out a soft sigh. Of course shewanted the truth – his sarcasm was just flaring in defense. Maybe he couldn’tcope with the fact he’d have to come to terms with how much he’d changed. “ Icould be better. It’s been hard. “ His own gaze was trained somewhere else.There wasn’t enough strength in him to meet her gaze again, right now ; talkingabout the reality of things was draining him quickly. “ Dad’s been picking updouble-shifts. I…uh, I never went back to Quantico. “
There’s more he wants to say, and the strain is clear behind amber hues as theyfinally travel back to Lydia’s face. He takes in a slow breath, knowing thatthe truth wasn’t going to help the fact that she was beating herself up. Hedidn’t want that ; but he didn’t want to lie. This wasn’t how he imagined theirreunion conversation going, but this was the realism of it. It wouldn’t be allsunshine & happiness – they were people, they had emotions & thingsaren’t as easy as they seem in fairy-tales. Lydia looks like she might collapseat any second ; the anxiety laced in her feminine features make it obvious. “Here—let’s sit down on the couch. “
Carefully & as gently as he can, Stiles rests a hand on her back andlightly guides her to the living room. He knows that she knows where it is –but he also knows that anxiety isn’t an easy thing to cope with. Anxiety wassomething that he’d become experienced with, and he knows Lydia wasn’tlingering just inside the doorway because she forgot where things were. Hewalks with her to the couch, sitting down on one side and leaving the otheropen for her. He clasps his hands together in his lap, waiting for her to sitdown so that he could return an inquiry. “ What about you? “
Afterallowing Lydia in, he follows behind & closes the door after them. Stilestakes note of how at a loss she is ; it felt like it was the first time she’dever been at his house, which was far from the truth. A lot of their investigationshappened here – but his father never seemed to mind it. Maybe he wasappreciative of the thought of Stiles finding a group he could identify with, evenif he was the only human in it. A lot in Stiles’ attitude & characterchanged after she left, but that wasn’t something he really wanted to delveinto. He didn’t want to guilt Lydia – there’s not a doubt in his mind that shewas doing that enough.
“ Do you want the truth? “ He asks, letting out a soft sigh. Of course shewanted the truth – his sarcasm was just flaring in defense. Maybe he couldn’tcope with the fact he’d have to come to terms with how much he’d changed. “ Icould be better. It’s been hard. “ His own gaze was trained somewhere else.There wasn’t enough strength in him to meet her gaze again, right now ; talkingabout the reality of things was draining him quickly. “ Dad’s been picking updouble-shifts. I…uh, I never went back to Quantico. “
There’s more he wants to say, and the strain is clear behind amber hues as theyfinally travel back to Lydia’s face. He takes in a slow breath, knowing thatthe truth wasn’t going to help the fact that she was beating herself up. Hedidn’t want that ; but he didn’t want to lie. This wasn’t how he imagined theirreunion conversation going, but this was the realism of it. It wouldn’t be allsunshine & happiness – they were people, they had emotions & thingsaren’t as easy as they seem in fairy-tales. Lydia looks like she might collapseat any second ; the anxiety laced in her feminine features make it obvious. “Here—let’s sit down on the couch. “
Carefully & as gently as he can, Stiles rests a hand on her back andlightly guides her to the living room. He knows that she knows where it is –but he also knows that anxiety isn’t an easy thing to cope with. Anxiety wassomething that he’d become experienced with, and he knows Lydia wasn’tlingering just inside the doorway because she forgot where things were. Hewalks with her to the couch, sitting down on one side and leaving the otheropen for her. He clasps his hands together in his lap, waiting for her to sitdown so that he could return an inquiry. “ What about you? “
Things haven’t been easy for Stiles for a while, now. Theinitial loss of Lydia in Beacon Hills killed the dark-brunet in a way that’sindescribable to anyone else. While all of the McCall pack took her disappearancehard, there was no doubt that he took it the hardest. After everything they’dall been through, a vital part of him suddenly vanished – he felt empty, likethere was a large cavernous hole left in the middle of his chest. There hadonly been a small handful of times where he’d ever felt anything close to being this empty, but thistime felt different. The emotional tether between them was still intact – he knewshe was still alive, but he didn’t know where. And that nearly drove him toinsanity with red tape, string, & markers in his room.
After a while, Stiles had come to the conclusion that Lydia had disappeared outof her own accord. And, for whatever reason, that hurt more. He had been preparinghimself to fight any kind of supernatural creature – berserkers, werewolves,kanimas, anything – just to find her and save her. But there wasn’t any proofof an abduction. Hints he gathered from Lydia’s room & Natalie was all theproof he needed to know her disappearance was deliberate, and not malicious. Afterlearning that, there was a period of anger where he ripped apart the evidenceboard. He still hasn’t cleaned it up.
The FBI internship, for the most part, was forgotten about. Noah was insistentthat he pick himself up from his depression and at least attempt to distracthimself while Lydia was gone, but he couldn’t. There was the sinking guilt thatmaybe he’d been the one to drive her away from Beacon Hills. He wanted to knowthe truth – he was tired of guessing and waiting. He’d called her hundreds oftimes in the past two years, but they always led to a dead end.
Tonight, the sheriff is pulling a double-shift at the station. That left Stilesalone at the Stilinski household to ruminate in his depressive mood. The brunet issitting on the couch of the living room, watching reruns of a show he’d alreadyseen the entirety of two or three times. His amber eyes were glazed with an emptiness he’dsomehow managed to cope with. Their friends would argue that it wasn’t copingif he’s barely half-alive, but he’s doing better than he could be. And that was enoughfor him.
The sound of the doorbell ringing pulls him out of his dissociative state,turning his head towards the door with furrowed eyebrows. No one he knew rangdoorbells when they came over – if it was Scott, Malia or Liam, they’d either sneakin the window or walk into the house after a short knock. And his father wouldn’tring the doorbell at all. Stiles stands up slowly, suspicion lacing boyish features.There wasn’t anything particularly threatening about a doorbell ringing ; butto Stiles, it was out of place. His defense was raised tenfold. As heapproaches the door, he scoots the metallic baseball bat from its spot a few feet away to being right beside of the doorway, in case of an emergency.
He opens the door, expecting a door-to-door salesman or an unfriendly face.When his mahogany gaze meets olive, the breath is stolen straight from hislungs. His heart drops significantly ; whatever mental prepping he was doingcouldn’t have prepared him for this. Lydia was here, again, standing on hisporch and looking just as lost and confused as he felt. For a while, now, hisworld was turned on its head – and he’d learned to survive with that. But Lydia’sreappearance managed to flip it again, and it’s obvious on his shockedvisage. There’s a moment of silence – even when she talks – where Stilescan’t breathe or formulate words. “ Lydia? “ His voice is soft and laced withdisbelief & hope, because he’s expecting to wake up any second now. His dreams hadalways centered around the strawberry-blonde, and now that she was here…
Without a second longer to waste, Stiles steps closer to the banshee and wrapshis arms around her, tightly, enveloping her in a much-needed hug. In theembrace, he feels a lot of things – but the strongest of his emotions ishappiness. He missed her so much, and for the time being, it felt like thathole in his chest was starting to fill up again. There was a pull to her thatwas stronger now than it’d been in months. He forgot how well she fit in hisarms, and his eyes squeeze closed. Stiles soaks up as much comfort as he can,even swaying a bit with her in his arms.
Things haven’t been easy for Stiles for a while, now. Theinitial loss of Lydia in Beacon Hills killed the dark-brunet in a way that’sindescribable to anyone else. While all of the McCall pack took her disappearancehard, there was no doubt that he took it the hardest. After everything they’dall been through, a vital part of him suddenly vanished – he felt empty, likethere was a large cavernous hole left in the middle of his chest. There hadonly been a small handful of times where he’d ever felt anything close to being this empty, but thistime felt different. The emotional tether between them was still intact – he knewshe was still alive, but he didn’t know where. And that nearly drove him toinsanity with red tape, string, & markers in his room.
After a while, Stiles had come to the conclusion that Lydia had disappeared outof her own accord. And, for whatever reason, that hurt more. He had been preparinghimself to fight any kind of supernatural creature – berserkers, werewolves,kanimas, anything – just to find her and save her. But there wasn’t any proofof an abduction. Hints he gathered from Lydia’s room & Natalie was all theproof he needed to know her disappearance was deliberate, and not malicious. Afterlearning that, there was a period of anger where he ripped apart the evidenceboard. He still hasn’t cleaned it up.
The FBI internship, for the most part, was forgotten about. Noah was insistentthat he pick himself up from his depression and at least attempt to distracthimself while Lydia was gone, but he couldn’t. There was the sinking guilt thatmaybe he’d been the one to drive her away from Beacon Hills. He wanted to knowthe truth – he was tired of guessing and waiting. He’d called her hundreds oftimes in the past two years, but they always led to a dead end.
Tonight, the sheriff is pulling a double-shift at the station. That left Stilesalone at the Stilinski household to ruminate in his depressive mood. The brunet issitting on the couch of the living room, watching reruns of a show he’d alreadyseen the entirety of two or three times. His amber eyes were glazed with an emptiness he’dsomehow managed to cope with. Their friends would argue that it wasn’t copingif he’s barely half-alive, but he’s doing better than he could be. And that was enoughfor him.
The sound of the doorbell ringing pulls him out of his dissociative state,turning his head towards the door with furrowed eyebrows. No one he knew rangdoorbells when they came over – if it was Scott, Malia or Liam, they’d either sneakin the window or walk into the house after a short knock. And his father wouldn’tring the doorbell at all. Stiles stands up slowly, suspicion lacing boyish features.There wasn’t anything particularly threatening about a doorbell ringing ; butto Stiles, it was out of place. His defense was raised tenfold. As heapproaches the door, he scoots the metallic baseball bat from its spot a few feet away to being right beside of the doorway, in case of an emergency.
He opens the door, expecting a door-to-door salesman or an unfriendly face.When his mahogany gaze meets olive, the breath is stolen straight from hislungs. His heart drops significantly ; whatever mental prepping he was doingcouldn’t have prepared him for this. Lydia was here, again, standing on hisporch and looking just as lost and confused as he felt. For a while, now, hisworld was turned on its head – and he’d learned to survive with that. But Lydia’sreappearance managed to flip it again, and it’s obvious on his shockedvisage. There’s a moment of silence – even when she talks – where Stilescan’t breathe or formulate words. “ Lydia? “ His voice is soft and laced withdisbelief & hope, because he’s expecting to wake up any second now. His dreams hadalways centered around the strawberry-blonde, and now that she was here…
Without a second longer to waste, Stiles steps closer to the banshee and wrapshis arms around her, tightly, enveloping her in a much-needed hug. In theembrace, he feels a lot of things – but the strongest of his emotions ishappiness. He missed her so much, and for the time being, it felt like thathole in his chest was starting to fill up again. There was a pull to her thatwas stronger now than it’d been in months. He forgot how well she fit in hisarms, and his eyes squeeze closed. Stiles soaks up as much comfort as he can,even swaying a bit with her in his arms.
