@artofrunningaway i know you never wanted this
Fighting to be allowed to see Stiles had taken it’s toll on Lydia. Sure, she was a fighter to her core, and she’d been raised with grit and determination to protect those she loved. Any ounce of self-centered spite had been carved out of her by the events of their shared teenhood.
But as much as she was steel and sharp blades... Lydia was still a being of sadness. Of vulnerability.
Banshees by definition were created piece by piece by trauma and pain, and all the grief of the world whispering in their ears and gripping their throats.
With hands trembling and energy depleted, the woman sat down opposite Stiles in the booth. Outside, she could keenly sense the presence of Peter and a number of his supernatural staff: including the vampire who turned Stiles into something he hadn’t wanted to be.
Stiles looked awful. Like the Nogitsune all over again.
Lydia’s eyes burned with tears she refused to let fall. She’d be strong. She had to be... for him.
“Hey Stiles. I-” She swallowed. “I felt it. Came back here on the first flight. Might’ve even broken some speeding laws getting here, you’d be proud.”
