It was you - A Stydia Fanfiction

Untitled Part 13

Sometimes I used to think that if Scott never got bitten by Peter, I wouldn't be a banshee, we’d be normal kids, worrying more over our finals and prom dates more than assassins and terrifying full moons. I couldn't imagine life to be any different, sometimes I wish I wasn't how I was. I dont think Scott would either, he never wanted to be a werewolf and Allison never wanted to be a hunter. And Scott’s life infiltrated all of our lives, even Stiles. You could clearly see in Scott’s soft brown eyes the fear. You’d think Scott was never scared or afraid after everything he’s been through, getting bitten, the Peter problem, Deucalion, he’d be fearless, but he was just as scared as I was, he was normal, a normal kid with his fears, but probably bigger fears. His fears were loosing the ones he cared for, like Erica or Boyd, he didn't want history to repeat itself. And Stiles, who stood there motionless, trying to oretend he wasn't afraid, afraid for me, Scott and himself. I could find comfort in Stiles, he was like me, we felt powerless, like we could do nothing to prevent things, my banshee powers were more of a burden than a help, and Stiles being human, but I think he would rather stay human than be supernatural. Most people would kill to become a werewolf, Stiles wasn't most people. The moon was almost at its peak, and the nausea within my stomach grew and grew, I had never seen Scott on a full moon, but from what Stiles and Allison told me, it wasn't a pretty sight. I tightened my ponytail, fiddling with the ends of my hair for a while. 

“Scott usually says stuff he doesn't mean. So, uh, don’t take it badly.” Stiles said, giving me a smile, that actually set me at ease easily. I gave him a small laugh.

“I heard.” 

“Stiles. I like your shirt.” Scott said, giving him a lopsided grin.

“Oh, you do?” He puffed out his chest. “It’s from Macy’s.” He stroked the white shirt, he wore too often. But it looked good on him, Allison used to joke too much about how he had a special connection with that shirt.

“Yeah. It looks very Stile-ish.” He roared out in laughter, doubling over, clutching his stomach, despite the chains holding him back. Scott’s terrible humor always made me laugh. 

“Oh god. I would insult you but it would take you too long to understand.” Stiles remarked. He sat down on the chair, his posture poor his back arching forward, his head resting on his hands, his elbows perched on his knees, he glanced outside the window.

Scott hissed, he laid his head back, laying back on the sofa. The full moon was in full swing. I kneeled next to him, laying my hand on his. 

“It’s okay, Scott. Okay?” I grasped on to his hand, ignoring the heat. He was crazily hot, his temperature was way too high for a human, beads of sweat glinted on his forehead, he held onto my hand like it was keeping his grasp on being human. He nodded, his eyebrows furrowed, pain glinting in his eyes. He gritted his teethh. I felt a sharp pain in my hand, I retracted my hand quickly. Scott’s nails had come out, piercing through my skin. Scott’s face looked to meet mine, his eyes saying the word of apology continuously, as if he was ashamed of what

“Ow!” The cut was pretty deep. “Shit.”

“Lydia? Are you okay?” Stiles grabbed my hand, pulling the sleeves back, analyzing the cut. His eyes leveled with mine, his fingers wrapped around my wrist. “Wait a second, let me get something for that before it gets infected.” He ran up the steps. 

“You must be blind? Lord, Lydia. You’re his bloody world. Don't you realize it?” Scott uttered. 

“That’s the moon talking.” I retorted. Stiles, I knew, liked me once ago, when we were younger, but not anymore. I knew it. I use to be so popular i never thought once about Stiles Stilinski, the lanky boy with the strange buzz cut, who had the crazy crush on me, but now I couldn't imagine life without that weird kid. But his feelings must have faded? Shouldn't they?

“If that keeps you awake at night.” Scott’s facial expressions twisted into anger. “Just take off my chains.”  He spoke out, enunciating every syllable like one might with a child.I shook my head, keeping my eyes away from his.

“You can't be so dumb as to not realize. He’s loved you since the third grade.” Scott’s voice seemed to be growing louder, oozing with confidence. 

“Not anymore.” I whispered back. I knew Stiles couldn't hear anyway.

“You love him.” His face seemed shocked, as if he’d heard something absolutely crazy and out of this world.

“No.” I didn't care if my voice wavered a little, I don't care if he could smell anything on me. I didn't care. I braced myself peremptorily waiting for his reply, but Stiles came rushing down, bandage in hand. I knew for a fact that he had no clue about first aid.I felt a small electric shock when he grabbed my hand, that made me wince. His eyebrows scrunched up together, his eyes in concentration as he wrapped my hand with the bandage. His eyes were more like the colour of bark, I had never noticed the exact colour. His eyes changed alot, I wouldn't know how to explain it. When he wore black, his eyes seemed black from afar. And if he wore green, his eyes looked the colour of an unfound forest, a perfect dark green. But his eyes were really hazel with strange streaks of dark, his eyelashes cast a dark shadow on his eyes.

“There.” He smiled, his eyes at level with mine so our eyes met. I smiled back, in gratitude. 

A slight shriek escaped Scott’s mouth, he arched his back. I hurried in front of him, grasping both sides of his face.

“Scotty.” His eyes opened, almost closed, he clenched the edge of the sofa, which was already half ripped apart from his claws. “It’s okay. I have no clue the pain you’re in, but think of Allison.” His hands seemed to ease at the sound of her voice, his muscles contracting.

“Get me something. Vodka?” His poor attempt at humor made me give him a stern look that quickly turned into a grin. “It still isn't working.” He breathed heavily.

“Memories work.” Stiles said, he looked to me. “You have a better way with words.” I stood by him, out of Scott’s earshot, he leaned on the wall, looking past me to Scott. “You know? It’s almost like a panic attack. Like the one I had?” The panic attack he had when I kissed him, it felt like so long ago but in reality it wasn’t, only two months ago had I kissed him out of a panic attack, the crazy thought helped him. 

“I’ll try, but I don't really have a PHD in lycanthropy.” I said, trying to block out the groans of pain coming from Scott. I exhaled,.