I know the last scene was basically the same as how it happened in the show with Malia, but there was only so much I could change that dialogue.
Question of the Chapter: Do you think Stiles and Lydia would have stayed together after the show ended?
——————————
✧･ﾟ:*Riley*:･ﾟ✧
It didn't take us long to get to the lake house, Stiles speeding along the roads where there were no traffic cameras. He was so lucky his dad was Sheriff, or he would've lost his license ten times over.
"Any updates?" Stiles asked as he drove.
I unlocked my phone and read through my messages. "Scott and Kira are with Derek and Braeden at the loft waiting for that attack. No word yet. Lydia and Malia are at the station still with Meredith, trying to get anything from her. Apparently she wanted to speak to Peter, so now he's there."
"Why does everything always seem to come back to Peter?" Stiles sighed with a small shake of his head.
Biting my lip, I felt a small sliver of shame travel through me. I knew that it wasn't my fault, but he was still my father when it came down to it.
"You okay?" Stiles asked.
"What do you mean?"
He pointed to the window of the jeep, "Well, the windows are closed, but it's windy in here, so. . ."
"Shit, sorry," I said quickly, reining in my ability.
"Don't be, I get why you're stressed. You've got a lot going on."
"I just really hope he didn't have anything to do with this," I admitted.
Stiles reached over and placed a hand on my leg. "I know. We're going to figure this out, alright? You and me and Scott, just like always."
I could tell he was trying to make me feel better, but I also knew he was just as agitated about this whole situation as I was. He was doing his best to hide it, but it was there.
When we pulled up at the lake house, I grabbed out the key that Lydia had lent to me and unlocked the door, leading Stiles to the study. When we shut the door to the sound proof room, I felt a chill travel down my spine. It was still so strange. It felt like the nothingness was echoing around the room - I couldn't explain the sensation.
Stiles went over and flicked the switch on the record player and we took a seat on the carpet in front of it as it began to spin. The record itself was practically blank, the only noise coming from it sounding like muffled whispers.
I wondered what Lydia heard when she listened to it.
We sat there listening in silence for almost twenty minutes, when Stiles stood up and threw his hands in the air in frustration.
"What are we doing? This room wasn't even made for us. We need someone like Lydia or Meredith, and we're just sitting here listening to a stupid record player play a record that doesn't play anything. Come on," he said as he turned the player off. "There's plenty of other things we can be totally useless doing."
I was about to get up and follow him, when I heard a sound. I would have chalked it up to the record player, but Stiles had turned that off. So where was it coming from?
When I heard Stiles open the door, I called his name so that he wouldn't leave.
"Yes?" He said, trying to hide his frustration with being told to wait.
"I can still hear the sound from before."
He blinked a couple of times as he walked over, rubbing his eyes. "But it's not on."
"I know that," I said quickly. "Something is making that sound, though."
Leaning back on my heels, I stood up beside Stiles and stared in the direction of the player, trying to find where the noise was coming from. "Stiles, something is still spinning."
Stiles took a closer look at the record player, moving the table. I noticed as his eyes squinted as he spotted something, grabbing at the cord behind the player. I moved to see what he was looking at. The cord went into the wall, instead of just being plugged into an outlet.
"That's weird," I said quietly. Grabbing the edge of the table, I moved it so that Stiles had easier access to the cord.
Grabbing it firmly, he pulled it until it began to tear the drywall. He glanced at me for a moment as if to check if he was doing the right thing. Lydia's mum probably wouldn't be happy, but it was better then having her daughter hunted. As I nodded, Stiles turned back to the wall.
He continued to pull and the drywall continued to rip as more cord ended up in Stiles' hands. When the tear had almost reached the roof, Stiles let go of the cord.
We both made eye contact for a moment, before stepping towards the wall. Grabbing it by the handful, we began to tear open the wall. We kept tearing until we had created a hole over a metre squared.
My stomach dropped when I saw what was hidden behind the drywall. Four big machines with wheels spinning nonstop.
"Stiles," I said softly, taking a small step back in shock. "What is this?"
I heard him gulp as his hand gripped mine, his eyes never leaving the machine. "The Deadpool."
My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the machine. Everyone who had been killed, everyone who had been hunted. . . it was because of this.
I felt every emotion come rushing back, my anger rising with it. My eyes glowed as the air shifted in the room, growing stronger as my fists curled.
Beginning to walk back to the machine running the Deadpool, I drew my power in, raising my hands ready to crush it with my ability.
Just as I felt the surge beginning to flow through my veins, I felt Stiles hands grip my shoulders as he stepped in front of me. "Riley, no, no, no, no, don't!"
"Why?" I growled, not releasing my grip, but holding off on destroying the machine.
He blinked a couple of times, "Because, you can't just crush it, okay? If this thing's being used to disseminate the list, then it's probably going to keep going until everyone's dead. Please, trust me."
I lowered my arms and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before reopening them to show they were no longer glowing.
"You know I trust you. So, what do we do?"
Stiles seemed to sigh in relief, before he focused back on the machine. "It needs some kind of prompt or command or something, right?"
Examining the machine, I tried to find a keyboard or anything where you could actually input the command that Stiles spoke of. Searching for this, I think I found something better.
"Or maybe, we just need a key?" I suggested, pointing to a key hole on the front of one of the central machines. "We need Lydia."
Stiles agreed, not wanting to waste any time. Besides, the machine was in her house so if anyone was going to know where to find a key, it was Lydia.
The boy grabbed his phone out and video called her. Thankfully, she answered straight away, allowing Stiles to explain the situation and show her the machine that was dispersing the Deadpool.
"You see it?" He asked her, moving the phone around. "There's got to be a way to turn it off, right?"
"I don't know, " she replied honestly. "I don't know anything about computers from the 1970s."
I stepped forward so Lydia could see me, "We don't know either, Lydia. That's why we called you."
"Okay, where's the monitor?"
Stiles focused the phone back onto himself, walking around the room. "Lydia, there is no monitor. There are buttons, knobs, spindles, no monitor."
"Wait, turn the phone back. Point it at the carpet."
"The what?"
"The floor!" She exclaimed. "Just show me the floor."
Stiles did as he was told, turning the camera to show Lydia the floor of the study. I didn't understand why she wanted to see it; it was just a plain white carpet.
"Where's the stain?" Lydia asked quietly.
I took the phone so that I could speak to her. "What stain, Lydia?"
"There should be red blotches, a wine stain."
"There's definitely no wine stain on this carpet, Lydia. Are you sure?"
"Yes," she sighed. "That doesn't make sense. I gave the five hundred dollars I was supposed to use to hire the cleaners to Brunski."
Stiles stepped over to me, squishing into the frame. "Lydia, what the hell does wine have to do with anything?" He asked sounding completely agitated.
"Red wine doesn't just disappear," Lydia replied flatly.
I nodded, "Yeah, that's true. I spilt some on my mum's favourite white shirt once and I got in so much trouble."
"Not the time, Ri."
"Sorry," I replied.
Lydia seemed to go somewhere, her gaze travelling into the distance. "Unless it wasn't wine."
"No, it was definitely wine," I thought aloud. "She had to throw the shirt out."
"Riley!"
"Sorry."
Stiles took the phone from my hand so that he was the focus, "Lydia, what do you mean it wasn't wine."
Lydia focused back in on us, walking again. "The ashes weren't ashes. The study isn't a study. The record player isn't a record player," she spat out quickly. "So. . . so maybe the wine wasn't wine."
Stiles seemed to be following this train of thought as Lydia continued.
"Stiles, you have to find the wine. Find the bottle. There could be something about it."
Stiles nodded, "What kind? What's it called?"
"It's a 1982 Cotes du Rhone."
My boyfriend shoved his phone into my hands before running out of the room and towards where Lydia's parents keep their wine.
"How are things going on your end?" I asked Lydia as I waited for Stiles to return.
The girl sighed, "Peter looked at Meredith's memories. They were both in hospital at the same time. Peter gave Meredith the idea for the Deadpool without even realising it."
I felt a frown reach my lips at her words. Malia had wanted to believe that he could be helpful. Hell, on some level I had hoped the same.
But, once again, Peter was the bad guy.
"I'm sorry, Riley."
"It's fine," I said quickly, shaking my head. "It's Peter. What more could we expect?"
"Hey, I'm really sorry but I've got to go. Let me know what happens, okay?"
I nodded before Lydia hung up and stood waiting in the silent room. I couldn't believe I had thought there was a chance that maybe Peter was on our side.
My thoughts were interrupted when Stiles came running back in with a bottle in hand. He shook it and I heard something rattling from inside the glass wine bottle.
"I think there's something inside. Do you have, like, a wine opener or something?"
Knowing we didn't exactly have much time considering that there were still people coming to kill Scott, Kira, Derek and the rest of our friends, I took the bottle from Stiles and threw it to the ground. It smashed upon impact, pieces flying and red liquid spilling everywhere.
Stiles looked at me in shock.
I just shrugged, "It's not wine, remember? It'll come out."
His lips pursed, before he nodded in agreement. He proceeded to kneel down and sift through the glass pieces carefully. When he held up a key, we both rushed over to the machine.
Stiles didn't hesitate to push the key into the slot, but stopped before turning it, looking over his shoulder at me.
"Do it," I said.
He nodded, turning the key.
For a moment nothing happened, and I began to worry. But then, the lights switched off and the wheels began to slow down. My hand reached for Stiles' as I bit my lip, waiting.
Finally, the wheels stopped completely, the machines no longer making their retched whirring sound. The room fell into silence, both of us holding our breath to be sure we wouldn't miss the buzzing sound if it happened to restart.
The sudden buzz of a phone made me jump, my heart skipping a beat. Stiles took his phone out of his pocket to read the message. "It's over," he informed me.
I sighed in relief as I threw my arms around my boyfriend, a feeling of ease relaxing me. I felt his hand reach up and rest in my hair, pulling me into him. "It's over," he whispered again.
It felt like he was trying to reassure himself more than me.
We had actually managed to stop it. I had to admit, our Pack was rather resilient.
I drew back enough so that I could face him, before pressing my lips to his. He didn't hesitate to kiss me back, lips parting instantly. We had won, we deserved to be happy.
♧♤♢♡
While I had wanted to take up Stiles' offer to spend the night, I knew that I needed to go home. Charlotte would be worried, and I needed to tell her what had happened so that she could relax. Plus, Iris was on the list and deserved to know what was going on also.
After getting dropped home by Stiles, I went and unlocked the door. I could hear voices coming from the living room, so headed in that direction. As I walked into the room, I saw my sister giggling. Charlotte never giggled. . . like, ever.
My sister was seated beside Iris on the couch, her hand on the woman's arm as she laughed at something she had said.
"Hey, guys," I said awkwardly.
Charlotte's eyes widened a little as she cleared her throat and slid away from Iris slightly.
"Riley, you're home!" she gasped.
"Yep," I agreed, nodding slowly. "Just thought you guys would like to know we stopped the Benefactor and the Deadpool has been cancelled. No big deal, as you were."
I saw a grin reach Iris' lips at my words, obviously glad she wasn't going to be hunted anymore. "How did you manage that?"
I began to recount our day, starting from when we had deciphered what Lorraine had been talking about in Brunski's tape. After I explained the secret machine that was sending out the Deadpool that had been hidden behind a wall in a soundproof room at Lydia's lakehouse, they both had their mouths hanging open.
Charlotte's brows drew in for a moment, before she stood up and wrapped her arms around me. "I'm so glad you're okay. You really need to take a break from the life threatening stuff for a while though, okay? You're going to give me a heart attack and I'm not even out of my twenties."
Hugging her back, I laughed. "I'll do my best, but somehow, I don't think I get much of a say in it."
"You and your Pack continue to impress," Iris grinned. "Deaton definitely didn't over exaggerate."
"So you'll be sticking around then?" I asked as I pulled away from my sister.
Iris' eye drifted to Charlotte, "If I'm still welcome?"
Charlotte's cheeks blushed pink as she nodded, "Of course. We've got the space, you're welcome to the spare room as long as you'd like."
When they fell into silence staring at each other, I decided to excuse myself from the room. If Malia was right and there was something between Charlotte and Iris, I couldn't be more happy for her. Charlotte had had it rough throughout life as well, so if she had found someone who made her happy, I wasn't about to be the one to stand in the way of that.
Going into my room, I threw my bag onto my bed as I began to get ready to collapse and get some rest. Just as I was about to get changed, my phone began to ring.
Groaning, I grabbed it out of my bag to see I was getting a call from Derek, who Stiles had listed as 'Sourwolf' in my contacts.
"Hey, cousin, what's up?"
I could practically feel Derek's eyeroll.
"Don't call me that. You need to get in your car and come to my loft."
"The Deadpool is over and Meredith is being dealt with, what could you possibly need at this time of night?"
"Lydia just showed up at my door screaming, and is now sitting on my couch drenched in rain," he replied without missing a beat.
"That's definitely something worth calling about," I said apologetically. "I'll be there in ten."
Hanging up, I grabbed my bag and went straight back out my door, making a stop to tell Charlotte where I was going. She was a bit surprised that I was leaving again so soon, but once I explained the situation and told her I'd bring Lydia back here, she was less on edge.
Not delaying my arrival any further, I went out the front door and drove directly to Derek's. He didn't live overly far away, thankfully. Although, I wasn't there in ten minutes like I said I would be.
Heaving the loft door open, I walked in to find Braeden seated beside Lydia on the couch, an arm around the younger girl. Derek walked over to me as soon as I entered the room.
"Thanks for coming. I wasn't sure who to call, I don't exactly have her mum's number."
"She's my best friend, of course I'd come," I told him, before heading over to Lydia. Kneeling down in front of her, I took her hands in mine. "Hey, I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?"
The girl nodded, her wet hair curtaining her shoulders as she stood up slowly. Without another word, she began to walk over to the door. I went to follow, before stopping in front of Derek.
"Why did she scream?"
"What?" He asked.
I raised my eyebrows, fully aware that he knew what I was asking. "Why did the Banshee come to your loft and scream? Lydia only screams when she finds a dead body."
Derek gestured to himself, "Well, as you can see, I'm very much still alive. Maybe ask her."
I sighed heavily as I looked to Braeden instead. "Watch out for him, won't you?"
"I'll do what I can," she said with what I could only assume was meant to be a reassuring smile.
Following Lydia, I gave Derek one last fleeting look, "Please be careful. You know she's rarely wrong about this stuff."
"I will," Derek insisted. "Go and look after your friends."
♧♤♢♡
After I got Lydia back to my house, I made her take a shower and then gave her some clothes to borrow. We were now laying in my bed, staring up at the ceiling.
It had taken a while for her to abandon the practically catatonic state that she had been in when I had arrived.
"Is Derek going to die?" I asked her, unable to stay quiet any longer, rolling onto my side.
I heard a small puff of air escape past Lydia's lips as she rolled to face me, "I don't know. I'm still having trouble with the whole Banshee thing."
"You'll figure it out," I said with a small smile. "You always do. You're Lydia Martin."
"Sometimes I wish someone else was," she laughed sadly.
Her words really got to me; someone as confident and strong as Lydia and she felt like she was unable to do this. I understood what she meant though. Sometimes, I wish that Scott had never been bitten and we'd never found out about the supernatural, so that we could be oblivious and live normal lives.
Propping myself on my elbow, I looked down at her. "You know, I never used to like you."
"How could this possibly help me right now, Ri?" She asked, draping her arm over her eyes.
"Hear me out," I said quickly, pulling her arm away. "I didn't because I thought you were just the stuck-up popular girl-"
"And because you thought Stiles liked me," she tossed in.
I went to argue, before giving a small nod, "Okay, that too. But, then I got to know you. Know how strong you are, how confident and loyal and totally bad ass."
The girl laughed, shaking her head.
"I'm not kidding!" I said with a small laugh. "Lydia, I can guarantee that without your help, we would've died ages ago. So stop doubting yourself. You're Lydia freaking Martin, and you will figure this out."
She gave me a small smile, biting her lip. "Thanks, Ri."
I put my arms around her, hugging her lightly. "Of course. You know I've always got your back."