The expression on Stiles' face when he saw the familiar man couldn't have been more bland. Stiles backed up a slowly as the man got closer to him. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?" Stiles said, with a hint of sarcasm in his words.
Brunski smirked.
Typical. Stiles rolled his eyes, if Brunski was here, and Lydia was here, Stiles knew this couldn't end well. He figured he'd ask while he had the chance. "Where is Lydia." He said.
Brunski cocked his head to the side and raised his brows in 'confusion'. Stiles could tell he was bullshitting him. "I'll find her myself." He exclaimed. And Stiles walked up to the doorway in which Brunski stood proudly, swinging his keys between his fingers. Just as Stiles got to the entrance, Brunski blocked the way with his arm.
"Didn't you hear the man? No visitors." Brunski said, not even looking Stiles in the eye. Stiles ignored him and pushed past him and ran for his life. The halls and the echoes of the building brought back a lot of memories of when he stayed there not long ago. He heard guards and sirens blaring beyond all of the screams for help. None of it stopped him though, he felt himself being pulled to Lydia, he had no idea where he was. He ran down corridors after halls, after stairs and turns. Once he got to the place he remembered one specific stair case, he stopped to reminisce the once lifeless body hanging over the railing, a noose of bed sheets he sighed quietly and returned to his thoughts and ran up the stairs. The stairs led to a hall that looked quite familiar, he looked left to right and back as he walked slowly. The narrow pathway seemed to expand further and further away from him, the long dark hall was endless it seemed, but he knew it had to end at some point. Every step felt like an eternity and he felt as if it was in slow motion. Stiles figured they'd given up on looking for him since the sirens had stopped. He had reached the last door, on the left. Stiles heart sank.
"Lydia." He said, and pushed on the door but nothing. It wasn't until he looked back up into the small window when he saw Brunski leaned over the bed. Stiles eyes widened once he saw what he was holding. "Stop!" He screamed and continued to pound on the door with such force he knew he'd have a bruise there later on. He did everything in his power to break the door down, he lunged forward in attempt to make the hinges pull apart from the door, but nothing. He stood there breathless. Without thinking and the anger boiling inside of him, he punched through the small glass window, where he saw Brunski staring back. It wasn't much but it was something, the window cracked right down the middle, helping shatter the rest, he punched again giving him sharp cuts all over his knuckles. With his arm numb, he took one final breath and punched once more with everything he had and the window had lost. He reached inside, keeping his eye on Brunski through the broken window, the look on his face was priceless and in any other situation Stiles would have laughed. The lock unlocked with a silent click and he pulled the door open. With blood stains on his white t-shirt and his fists clenched in rage, he stepped inside the room. "Let her go." He said, out of breath.
Brunski just smirked and continued to point the long needle toward Lydia's neck. Stiles stepped closer and closed his bloody fist around his wrist and looked him in the eyes. Brunski had to pay for the pain. This was it. The chance to end it. All of the bills and checks, all of the lives lost, the pain Lydia was going through. Stiles pulled the needle up and out of his hand and with the bloody fist he puts the needle right in his neck. Without an expression on his face, Stiles pushes the syringe, injecting the mysterious liquid into his neck. Stiles felt no remorse as he prayed it would kill him. Stiles saw as Brunski slowly released his grip on Lydia, and Stiles watched the life drain from his eyes.
Never had he been so relieved. Stiles let Brunski fall to the floor and he stepped over him and he finally got a good look at Lydia. Her face pale and gauntly. Beads of sweat dripped down her forehead. He glanced at the once bright green eyes he had seen before, but instead stared back dilated pupils that was descending emptiness. "Lyds." He said, pulling a few hairs off of her forehead. Lydia probably hadn't been responsive in a long time so it took her a moment to blink and look at Stiles. Stiles smiled weakly at her. "Hi." He said. "Ready to go?"
