The Power of Love
Fic Request: Is it possible for you to do more nogistune!Lydia fics?
Also inspired by these {one, two} lovely gifsets by the beautiful brogitsune
Lydia was standing by the Nemeton about twenty feet from where Stiles’ feet were planted but he couldn’t understand what they were doing there.
“Lydia,” Stiles said, the question already dripping from his tone. “What are you doing? Why are we here?” the last thing he remembered was falling asleep next to her after a long night of homework.
She’d been facing away from him, her hands pressed against the large tree stump and once she turned Stiles could see the fear in her eyes. “Lydia, what’s wrong?” he demanded.
“Stiles—,” it was the only word she got out before her mouth snapped shut and a scream struggle to rip through behind her smushed lips. Stiles ran towards her and as he got closer her could see her sobbing heavily. Then, as he was about halfway to her something started dragging her into the depths of the darkness. She reached for him desperately, still screaming as she was drug to the ground. She clawed at the earth, pulling up dirt and roots with her as she went.
“Lydia!” Stiles screamed himself awake.
He shot up gasping for breath. The panic worked its way out of his veins when he saw Lydia next to him. He closed his eyes in relief.
“What’s wrong, Stiles?” Lydia sat up sleepily and ran a hand down the length of his arm. Stiles turned to look at her and was caught off guard by the lack of sympathy in her eyes. Usually, when Stiles woke up from a nightmare she asked various questions, coaxing his nerves and calming him down. A lot of his dreams were about losing his friend, most of the time it was Lydia.
“It’s nothing I…” Stiles trailed off shaking his head in disbelief, “I saw you. You were by the Nemeton and you couldn’t open your mouth to scream or speak. Suddenly you were being dragged away,” the horrifying scene played behind his eyelids, “you were reaching out for me but I couldn’t save you," he opened his eyes to look at her again.
Lydia shook her head as if she were annoyed. “It was just a dream, Stiles,” she lay back down on the pillow, “don’t worry about it.” She said before turning over and pulling the blanket up to her chin. Stiles looked down at her skeptically. She never used a blanket when sleeping at his house. She said they kept the house warm enough and being in Stiles’ arms was all the extra cover she needed. Stiles lay back with his hands behind his head, doing what she had said, trying not to worry about it. But as he closed his eyes and went back to sleep he couldn’t help but feel like something was pulling on him, right in the center of his heart.
Something about Lydia was off at school. As they sat in Calculus Stiles watched her not taking notes, she never raised her hand to answer a question, and she spent most of her time doodling in her notebook. When class ended and Lydia got her previous days’ quiz back with the letter B written at the top Stiles couldn’t help but ask if something was wrong.
“Hey,” Stiles started. They stood at Lydia’s locker so she could get her stuff for the end of the day, “is everything okay?”
Lydia looked up and even through her makeup Stiles could see hints of purple bruises beneath her eyes.
“Yeah, fine,” she replied in a flat voice.
“Did you not study for yesterday’s quiz?”
Lydia shrugged. “I had other stuff to do.”
Stuff? Stiles questioned. Lydia never used words as simple as ‘stuff’. “Like what?”
Lydia slammed her locker shut and clutched her books closely to her chest. “Stuff, Stiles. I don’t ask you everything you do,” she snapped.
Stiles furrowed his brows. “Right. Well uh, I’ll catch you later. I’m going Scott’s after lacrosse practice so I’ll come over after I leave there.”
“Come over?” she acted as if she hadn’t a clue why.
“To work on biology, remember? We have a quiz tomorrow. Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You look a little pale,” he finally stated.
“Just tired, I’ll see you later, Stiles,” she turned without so much as a peck to the forehead or even a wave goodbye. Stiles was left standing at her locker, pondering intently over what could possibly be wrong.
All throughout lacrosse practice Stiles couldn’t stop thinking about how weird Lydia been lately. Because he was so distracted he’d been tackled twice playing goal defender.
“Stilinski!” Coach screamed from the sidelines. “I didn’t put you on first line to twiddle your thumbs and watch the birds! FOCUS!”
“Sorry, Coach,” Stiles hollered back. He looked to the side where Scott was standing, giving him skeptical eyes from behind his helmet. Stiles huffed loud enough for Scott to hear and mumbled "later" before turning back just in time for him to see Liam running at him full speed ahead.
“Dude,” Scott said as he tossed his back on his bed and toed his shoes off in the closet. “What’s going on with you?”
Stiles sighed and drug his hands down his face tiredly. “It’s not me,” he stated, “it’s Lydia.”
“What about her?”
Stiles shrugged and took a deep breath again. “I don’t know. Lydia stayed the night last night and I had a nightmare. I have them a lot and she’s really good about it but--,” Stiles cut off and recapped his nightmare for Scott.
“That’s a weird dream,” Scott replied.
Stiles rose his eyebrows. “I know. The weirdest part was Lydia when I woke up. She just acted so, off.”
“Maybe she was just tired?”
Stiles shook his head and a haunted look fell over his face. “No. It was like it wasn’t even her.”
Scott chuckled. “That’s crazy, Stiles. What do you mean?”
Stiles rolled his eyes. “Is it though? Haven’t we dealt with this before? With me?”
“You think she’s possessed?”
Stiles dropped heavily into the chair by Scott’s bed. “I don’t know, maybe.”
“What do you even have to go on?” Scott questioned.
“This past week she’s been different. She stopped taking notes and studying. She’s been more bitchy than usual like sophomore year bitchy, and she barely sleeps when I’m with her. Remember Sunday night when she screamed herself awake at my house and you and Derek both called frantic about what was wrong with her? When I asked her what happened she couldn’t remember anything but she looked so scared Scott.”
Scott chewed his lip. “What should we do?”
“First I’m going to ask my dad if there have been any random murders in the past few days. If it is the nogitsune again somehow, he feeds off chaos, strife, and pain. Then I say we call you boss.”
“Deaton? Why?”
“We ask him for some Letharia Vulpina and put it in her food. Then we’ll know if she’s actually possessed or not.”
“Stiles, this is Lydia,” Scott was hesitant.
“Is it?” Stiles wondered aloud.
She dabbed concealer under her eyes. She’d noticed Stiles looking at the bruises earlier. Then, she lay down in bed and closed her eyes, ready to have a chat with the banshee screaming inside.
“You’re very clever, Lydia,” the nogitsune spoke to her. His form was still that of his last host, Stiles. Within the walls of her mind Lydia was terrified as he came towards her. She huddled in a corner, wanting to be as far away from him as possible. “Tell me, how did you do it?” he cocked his head to the side. A room appeared with neat little stacks of papers and books. Lydia realized it was the library in her home. “This is your mind, Lydia. It’s so clean and boring though,” his eyes darkened and a sadistic smile crossed over his lips, “I’d like to change that.”
“Go to hell,” Lydia replied, malice in her voice. She might have been afraid of him but she wasn’t going to let him take all of her. “How did you even get in?”
“Your grief over the huntress has left you weak. Your love for Stiles is making your vulnerable. I simply just slipped right in. You all really thought that little box was going to hold me?” he questioned. “I am a thousand years old, Lydia. I cannot be contained.”
“Why don’t you just kill me?” Lydia asked. “What use am I to you?”
The nogitsune flashed her pictures of her hands, caked and covered in blood, the hikers on the trail, they weren’t doing anything, minding their own business. She’d slaughtered them in cold blood. She’d liked it. “Your mind is very entertaining. I like it here,” he then raised his hands and forcefully pushed everything off the desk. Papers and books flew at Lydia, pelting her all over. She screamed and she felt like her brain was being ripped apart. The nogitsune reached her in two strides. He crouched down in front of her and Lydia shook with fear. He grabbed her face roughly, squeezing her cheeks to the point of pain. “Try and reach out to Stiles again, I dare you,” he said menacingly. “I’ll teach you to enjoy the taste of his blood.” He stepped back and laughed at her sobbing in the corner. “Wake up, Lydia. Stiles is here.”
Their eyes opened just as the doorbell rang.
“Hey,” Stiles smiled, trying to act normal.
Lydia nodded back and ushered for him to come in the house. “I already studied for bio,” Lydia said.
“You look like you just got up from a nap,” Stiles said, reaching out to brush back her hair. Instinctively Lydia’s hand whipped out and swatted Stiles’ away. Stiles stepped back with his eyes wide.
“Sorry,” Lydia said. “I’m a little jumpy today.”
Stiles nodded. “I noticed, is everything okay?”
“Fine,” Lydia smiled. “We can study some more but I’m pretty much studied up for what’s on the quiz tomorrow.”
“Oh,” Stiles said, disappointed. “Okay, well I’m gonna make us something to eat then I’ll be up.”
“I’m not really hungry,” Lydia confessed.
“I'm assuming you haven’t eaten anything since lunch and even then you barely ate, I’ll just make sandwiches. Lydia, are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Stop asking me that,” she snapped. “I’m just tired.”
He backed off. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll be up in a bit. I can’t get you anything?”
“Just bring whatever,” Lydia said before turning and walking up the staircase.
“Coffee?” Stiles offered with a smile when he returned. Lydia put on a plastic smile in return and took the outstretched cup. She took a sip and grinned. “Much better than your usual coffee abilities.”
Stiles laughed and sat next to her at the desk, pulling out his textbooks. “If you’re too tired to study I can go home, or if you’re through studying.”
Lydia shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I should probably study some more anyway. The coffee will wake me up,” she took another sip.
Stiles sighed internally. He was both hoping and not hoping he was right. But nothing was happening. He put his thoughts on pause and started going through practice problems for the test. Lydia did the same and then they checked each other’s. They went like this on a streak for an hour or so before Lydia yawned more than once and Stiles caught that as his cue to pack up.
“I’m pretty confident I’ll be fine,” he said while he put his books and pencils in his bag.
“It won’t be too hard,” Lydia replied and yawned again. “Wow, I’m exhausted and it isn’t even ten.”
Stiles slung his bag over his shoulder. “Well I’ll head out, I just—I have a question first.”
“What’s that?” Lydia said, dropping down to her bed with a bounce.
Stiles cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “You’re not going to break up with me, or end whatever this is that we’re doing, right?”
Lydia furrowed her brows. “Stiles, what are you talking about?”
“You’ve just been, off, lately and I just wanted to make sure we’re okay?”
Lydia stood and pushed Stiles’ backpack from his grasp. She took his hand and pulled him back to the bed, laying him down, hovering on top of him, “we’re perfect,” she kissed his mouth. “Stay,” she kissed him again.
So he did, because he’d been dying to hear her say that word his whole life. He’d wanted her to want him his whole life.
She was screaming and thrashing with her eyes clenched shut and her mouth open wide. Stiles startled so violently he fell out of her bed. He looked up from the floor and found Lydia in bed, still screaming and reaching for the absence of where Stiles was. He scrambled back up to the mattress and straddled her, gripping her upper arms in his hands.
“Lydia!” he called to her, she continued to scream in her sleep. “Lydia!” he yelled again, louder this time. “LYDIA!” he screamed, letting her name drawl out. She sat up and her eyes snapped open and flitted around the room. She was breathing heavily and there were tears falling from her eyes and Stiles felt like he was falling apart. Lydia let her eyes hold Stiles’ gaze for one minute before she collapsed into his arms, clenching his t-shirt in her fists.
“Get him out, Stiles,” Lydia sobbed into his shoulder. “Please. I don’t have much time,” she pulled away and looked into Stiles’ eyes. “It’s been him, all week. I don’t know when it happened,” she cried and shook, “there’s a slew of bodies out in the reserve,” she looked down at her hands and bit back the scream that was building in the base of her throat, “do whatever you can.”
Stiles pulled her into him and ran his fingers through her hair. “I will. We will. I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” Lydia pulled away. “I love you so much. Please leave, I don’t have much time he’s going to hurt you because of this. He’s so angry, Stiles I can feel it please—go,” Lydia didn’t get another word out before her eyes glazed over then snapped into focus.
“Lydia?” Stiles asked hesitantly.
A smirk crossed over her face but it wasn’t an expression of her own. “Guess again, Stiles.”
Stiles scrambled back away from her. “Why, why her?”
Lydia smiled. “She’s an even better host than you. She’s intelligent, beautiful, sure it was difficult getting inside a banshee but her walls have been broken because she let you in and because of the loss of the huntress. She’s vulnerable now, you made her this way.”
Stiles shook his head. “No. She’s Lydia Martin, she’s never vulnerable.”
Lydia laughed. “She was this time,” she laughed again, “I knew I didn’t have you fooled. You’re just so clever, Stiles. But not clever enough because this time you won’t be able to defeat me. Getting into a banshee isn’t easy, getting out is even harder.”
“We’ll get her out. She’s strong and she’ll fight. She’ll never let you win.”
Lydia smiled. “Counting on it. Until then, I’d like to really give her something to scream about.” That was when she tackled him to the ground and her hands closed around his throat.
Stiles’ eyes bulged as he struggled for breath. He grabbed at Lydia’s hands on his neck and failed horribly at trying to pull them off.
“Lyd-,” he gasped, his windpipe being crushed with the force.
“This was my game, Stiles,” she said, “you ruined it. You ruined everything. You were too weak. But not Lydia, you’re right she’s strong and she’ll finish it.”
Stiles was clawing at the floorboards. Scott should be here by now, or Derek, someone. Stiles told them to come if they heard her scream, he knew they had to have heard her scream.
“I’m going to end you, Stiles. Lydia is going to wish she never called out for you. Your death is going to be on her hands.”
“Lydia,” Stiles called out to her, his vision swimming black around the edges. “Lydia, I love you. It’s okay.”
It was the last thing Stiles said before the hands on his neck went limp and the scream ripped from Lydia’s throat. Stiles sat up with his breaths rasping in his chest and watched as the fly flew from her throat. It turned to ash and disappeared. Lydia’s scream cut off and she stared at Stiles with wide, terrified eyes.
“Lydia,” he reached out for her but she flinched away.
She started sobbing. “No, please. Don’t touch me. I--,” she couldn’t continue her sentence. She stared down at her shaking hands. “I almost killed you.”
“Hey,” Stiles hushed her, scooting closer, “you didn’t. You overcame it. I don’t know how to did it but you did.” Stiles moved to pull her into his embrace. “It’s okay, we’re okay now.”
“I’m so sorry,” Lydia sobbed, “I’m so sorry, Stiles.”
Stiles kissed her temple. “It’s not your fault. But it is because of you that I’m still alive. You’re stronger than me,” Stiles said. “You beat him.”
Derek and Scott had been downstairs when Lydia screamed. They’d heard the events following. “Don’t underestimate the simple, yet undeniable power, of human love,” Derek said. “It’s what saved you.”
