"We've got to get him back," Lydia exhaled, holding her head in her hands. "This is driving me crazy."
Aiden sat down next to her on her bed. "The voices? Are they getting louder?"
"No, not the voices. Stiles. He could be dying, or already dead, for all we know! And we're just sitting around twiddling our thumbs!"
"There's only so much we can do," he reassured her, running his hand across her shoulders. "Scott's working with Deaton right now. They're gonna find a way to help him-"
"How?" she exclaimed, standing up. "Deaton says he knows everything, but he let things get this far. Why didn't he do something the second Stiles was having trouble sleeping? He obviously knew something was happening!"
"Lydia, no one knew this was happening. There was no way any of us could have seen this coming."
"Stiles started acting differently the day after they did that stupid death theory. We've had all that time to help him."
"Yeah, but no one noticed anything that early on-"
"I noticed..." she whispered to herself more so than to him. "I noticed and I did nothing and now he's going to die."
Aiden stood up from the bed and reached for her arm. "Lydia," he said gently, "this isn't your fault."
"Then why do I feel so guilty?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I've been wondering that. We've been in terrifying situations like this before, and it's still terrifying, I know, but for some reason you're really taking this one to heart."
"Because it's Stiles," she hissed. Her eyes darted back and forth, as if she couldn't focus on one spot long enough to get a grip. "I mean - Stiles! The guy that was always there to protect me, to remind me that I'm not useless, to keep things light and cut me a little space to breathe."
Aiden took his hand off her shoulder. "What, and I don't do that for you?"
Lydia finally looked at him, tensing up. He waited, tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. "No," she started. "You do, but... you do because we're together. Stiles just did it because..."
"Because he's in love with you but I'm not?"
"I didn't say that; you're just throwing random things at me now."
"Now I'm not. I'm throwing you the thoughts you're too afraid to say aloud," he snapped. "The reason you're so upset about all of this is because you've gotten it into your head that Stiles is the only one that cares about you. Stiles is the one in trouble right now and for some reason it's about you."
"I'm not trying to make it about me! That's not why I'm upset-" Lydia tried to cut in.
"Then why? Don't tell me it's because you two were so close that your life is going to fall apart if he dies. You ignore him eighty percent of the time!"
"So that means I can't care?"
"Not this much! I did die once, and you didn't show half as much sorrow then as you are now."
Lydia turned away from him sharply. Aiden expected her to inform him that he had no say in how she felt about people. They'd had arguments before and that was always how she ended the fight: "You can't tell me how to run my life." But she didn't say it this time. She just kept her back to him, not letting him see her face. She wasn't one to give up on an argument, even if she knew she was going to lose. Unless she'd already lost...
"Oh, my God," Aiden scoffed. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"
He saw her hesitate, shifting her weight back and forth between her feet, and still she said nothing.
Aiden sneered and grabbed his jacket off the bed. "I'm gonna take that as a yes," he growled, then marched out the door.