l - teen wolf imagines

Pieces On The Ground

"Lydia...Lydia!"
You hissed her name as you put the car into park, but she only mumbled something into your passenger seat and shifted. Her hair was done up into a messy bun, and curls had fallen into her face, so you couldn't tell whether she was awake or just dreaming.
You sighed and reached forward to shake her shoulder. "Lydia!"
She groaned and and rolled over, gazing at you from under strands of hair. "Where are we?"
"Rest stop," you explained, nodding toward the dimly lit building. "I had to pee."
She wiped her eyes and glanced toward the clock. It read 12:17am, and after a day of driving and college tours, all she wanted was sleep. She had switched off with you an hour ago, leaving you to drive the Toyota, and you were willing to let her get some rest, but you wanted to make sure she didn't have to use the bathroom too.
"How far from home?" she mumbled, already closing her eyes again.
"About thirty minutes."
She groaned once more and shifted in the uncomfortable seat. "Why'd you stop so close?"
"I really had to pee," you insisted. "I'll be right back. You don't have to go too, do you?"
She shook her head, although to you it looked more like she was just flopping it around. You grinned and unclicked your seatbelt, and when you came back, you were definitely taking pictures of her to send to the rest of the pack.
"Lock the door," you nagged, as you opened the driver's side door and let cold air flow in.
"Turn the heat up," she mumbled, but the only response she was met with was the slamming of the door. She huffed and pulled herself up, not even bothering to stretch her stiff limbs as she cranked up the heat in the car.
With her fingers still on the dial, she gave the rest stop and its parking lot one quick scan. It was brightly lit, and the area looked pretty nice, but she still watched you until you disappeared through the glass doors. Her eyes roved over the parking lot, which was empty, saved for one red pickup truck without a driver inside. It had a blue streak of paint over the side, as if something had sideswiped it, or maybe the truck had sideswiped something else.
The rest of the lot was empty, so Lydia simply locked the door, nestled back into the seat, tugged her sweater tighter around her, and drifted back off to sleep.
Inside the bathroom of the rest stop, you were just finishing washing your hands. Peering into the mirror, you examined your tired eyes and rubbed them with the back of your sleeve. Dark circles had appeared under them, but the long day had also been a lot of fun, and you didn't really mind.
You flicked droplets from your hands as the water stopped running, and you grabbed a wad of paper towels from the dispenser to your right. After you tossed them in the trash, you walked out into the lobby and took a moment to stretch.
California travel brochures lined the wall, boasting things like water parks or deep holes that somehow qualified as roadside attractions. You yawned as you read over them, and stretched your arms out above your head.
You knew it was getting pretty late, and by the time you got back to Beacon Hills, everyone and everything, aside from the monsters that lurked there, would be asleep. You figured it was probably a good idea to head out, because you didn't exactly want to get caught out in the dark with all the werewolves and wendigos.
You turned just as the doors on the other side of the lobby opened, and you glanced back to see a man walking through them. You didn't really think anything of it, and your sleepy brain was too fried to get so much as a decent look at him.
When you turned, you planned on walking right through the glass doors and straight back to Lydia, on driving home and collapsing into her bed. Vigilance was the farthest thing on your mind when the man came up from behind and jerked you back by the waist. You barely had time to gasp before he was clapping a hand over your mouth, and you felt didn't even realize the painful snap against your side was electricity.
Everything was suddenly sharp, and painful, and before you knew it, completely black.

She was still cold. That was the first thing on Lydia's mind when she woke back up in the car, but as soon as she did, a sick feeling washed through her.
"Y/n?" she croaked.
As she wiped her bleary eyes and sat up, she suddenly realized the car wasn't even moving. Her frantic look to the driver's seat only confirmed her fears, and when she saw that it was empty, her gaze fell on the dashboard clock.
It had been a little after twelve when she woke up to find you pulled over, but now it was 1:32am.
Panic coursed through her as she threw open the door, and stumbled through the parking lot in her socked feet. There were no other cars in the lot now, and as she rushed under the dim and flickering lights, she knew she wasn't going to find you. That didn't stop her from bursting into the bathrooms and checking every stall, frantically calling out your name.
"Y/n?! Are you in here?! Y/n?!"
Please, she thought. Please, be here. Please be sick or hurt, just not gone.
But as she checked the last stall of the men's bathroom, it was empty aside from the dusty toilet, and the one lone moth that had wandered in.
It fluttered around the dimly lit stall, bumping into the walls, seemingly trapped.
"No," Lydia whispered, backing out of the bathroom and rushing back to the car. She ripped open the door and fumbled through fast food wrappers and empty water bottles, until she finally managed to find her phone.
The battery was dying, but as she dug around for the charger, she realized it was still connected to your phone. Her stomach began to twist itself into violent knots as it crossed her mind that if you really were gone, their chances of finding you would be a lot slimmer if you didn't have your cell.
She dialed number after number, switching from Scott to Stiles in the hopes that one of them would wake up and answer.
Finally, after six minutes of pure torture, Scott picked up the phone.
"Lydia? What's wrong?"
His voice was thick and groggy, and Lydia knew she had woken him up, but she didn't care. "Y/n's gone. We stopped at a rest stop, and I fell asleep, and I woke up, and now she isn't here. I checked everywhere Scott. Both bathrooms and-"
"Lydia, slow down," Scott commanded, now wide awake. "Where are you?"
"A rest stop off of 117. It was twelve something when I woke up and asked her what was going on, and she told me she had to pee. She got out, and I just fell back to sleep, Scott. But when I woke up, she hadn't come back, and when I checked inside, she wasn't there."
"It's been an hour?" He demanded.
"Yes," Lydia whispered. "And something has to be wrong. I can feel it."
"Okay, okay, I hear you. I'll...I'll call Stiles and Malia. Whatever happened, we'll figure it out...and Lydia?"
"What?"
"That bad feeling...it's not a banshee type of feeling is it?"
Lydia felt her throat go dry. "You mean a dead type of feeling?"
Scott didn't say anything for a few seconds, and there was only silence on the line, until he reluctantly said "Yeah."
Lydia swallowed, and stared up at the flickering fluorescent lights. "I'm honestly not sure."
Scott sighed in relief. "That's better than the alternative. Don't worry. We'll find out what happened."
After the line went dead, Lydia walked out to the car in the abnormally cold night, and wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn't find the will to move into the warmth and out of the breeze, not when there were still clues to find.
She closed her eyes and listened, trying to find any trace of you. Even after gaining control of her powers, she still wasn't sure how banshee communication worked, and she had very little past experience to work with.
Meredith had delivered a message from her when she had been taken by the Nogitsune, but even then, that hadn't done much good.
You had barely figured out how to use your powers as well, and with all the bodies the two of you had been finding lately, you hadn't exactly had time. No matter how hard Lydia listened in, she couldn't find a trace of you. All she heard was empty voices, whispering in the cold air, and none of them were yours.