ben síde

Enchantée [Belle & Lydia]

𝐈𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐧’𝐭 settled for being a deputy at the sheriff’s station, she might just have worked at the baker or as a cook. As it was, she could still visit and she visited often. Probably a little too often, but who could blame her? Belle ordered a cupcake and some vanilla-flavored coffee before she turned around to take a seat, thinking about the fact how sweet would be her breakfast, but she would deal with that later. Almost a little too quickly because she nearly bumped into someone on the way to the seat that she’d been eyeing. The brunette took a quick step back and let out a relieved sigh when she didn’t drop her coffee or cupcake. “Oh! Je suis vraiment désolé!” she blurted out quickly, not even thinking about the words coming from her lips “I didn’t see you there. I didn’t get anything on you, did I?” she asked quickly as her eyes moved up, meeting the woman’s eyes. Her face was so familiar, for sure she didn’t have seen her in person before but she recognized her from Allison’s pictures. Lydia Martin, her cousin’s best friend, she could somehow tell she knew her after everything her cousin told her, it was somehow nice to finally meet her. “Okay, I will sound like a freak, but I’m so happy to finally meet you Lydia, I’m Belle, Allison’s cousin” she smiled warmly, she was always that way, that bright with everyone, she was not going to change her way of being with the woman in front of her. @benside​​

.

Lydia was bee lining for her favourite seat in Lava Java when someone crashed straight into her, apparently on their way to steal it from her.

Her instinct was to snap at the stranger, but the words died in her mouth when she got a good look at the woman.

Wasn’t this the cousin Allison mentioned? Her friend had shown her a picture as a reminder of which one she’d meant, Lydia saw there were some differences from the old picture on Allison’s phone and the woman before her now, but overall it was definitely... Beth. No, Belle? 

About to say the same, Lydia laughed lightly when Belle beat her to it.

“Not a freak don’t worry, and no, nothing on me,” she checked her blouse, and sure enough not a drop stained it. Which was a relief, she liked this one. “It’s nice to finally meet you too. Allison mentioned you recently, said you were in town and...”

Dating Peter Hale, she refrained from adding on.

“Working at the Sheriff’s department, right?” 

Lydia gestured to the table, and demanded with her usual confidence. “Come on, sit with me. Almost feel like I know you already, Allison used to talk about you all the time.”

The last time she’d come to Scott’s, it had been Derek who’d answered. 

This time she’d texted ahead to check that her friend would actually be there, and learning he was, Lydia had wasted no time driving over. She’d caught up with almost everyone so far, but aside from a phone call she’d not managed to catch up properly with Scott.

Lydia opened the door, letting herself in without a care given Scott knew she was coming, and dropped down onto the couch.

“Ugh. This week.” was all she said.

The banshee craned her neck up to see around the room, trying to work out where Scott was. She’d no doubt he’d heard her, whether he was in the living room or not, given werewolf hearing.

“I said ugh, this week!” 

.

“I guess now we know at least one, he might as well make himself useful, if he’s stuck with us now.” She shrugged, smiling sadly. Really, she’d just been trying to get by the best she could, but having been back almost a year by now, she knew she needed to get things in place. “Either way, given everything that’s going on since the unveiling, maybe they’ll make things easier?” She hoped, at least.

After they collected their drinks and food, she took a seat, taking a cautionary glance around to see who was around, not wanting to cause a scene.

“Erica’s… here as well.” She said, shaking her head as she took a sip of her latte. “I tried being her welcoming party, and you can imagine how that went. Now I just have to hope she never joins the pack so I don’t have to stop going to pack meetings altogether.”

.

Lydia hummed.

“Definitely stuck with us, we both know Stiles and Scott rarely let people truly go- how many people can we say are pack but not pack? Practically half the town at this point,” the banshee smirked.

Much more settled than Allison seemed to be, Lydia made herself comfortable as if the cafe was a second home to her. Or fourth home really, given the pack house and her mother’s home she was still very much welcome in. It was that comfort that was her downfall, when taking a sip of her own drink Lydia was taken off guard by Allison’s admittance. 

Scrambling for a tissue, Lydia wiped her mouth and chin to stop her dramatic spit take from ruining her white shirt.

“You what? Babe, you tried to be Erica Reyes’ welcome party?” oh no, no, she couldn’t believe this. “I love you dearly, but that was a bad call. Erica hated you- Or well, I guess now, hates you. 

 We know what you did before isn’t who you are now, and that you’re firmly a friend, not like other hunters who’d actively hurt innocent wolves...”

She took a fortifying bite out of her pastry and chewed quickly.

“She doesn’t know that, she doesn’t trust that. She... she passed before she got to see how good you are,” Lydia sighed. “She’s also not the only one. Boyd is back too, but you’re not to repeat that to anyone, he specifically asked for privacy.”

Given how awkward her encounter with Boyd had been, Lydia would have no clue how to approach talking to Erica as the woman had always been the more volatile of the set. Her bisexual awakening would be avoided for the time being, Lydia decided to herself.

–

Ignoring the anxiousness that was slowly starting to build because Stiles had realized just how long they had already been sitting here and how he still hadn’t had the urge to munch on Lydia - and not in the fun way - he sent a bashful grin her way when she asked about the frying pan.

“I mean, to be fair, it did help for a bit. Rapunzel’s making it look more badass than it actually is though.” He replied with a shrug, before settling his hands on the table; his fingers starting to drum on it.

“Lyds, this is Beacon Hills, pretty much everyone seems odd. Except for maybe the owner of Lava Java - he’s always happy. But then again, that is kinda odd,” Stiles trailed off. “Honestly? Roman and I had run into each other before but the first time we actually really started talking was at the fair when he bumped into me with this huge plush animal and then gave it to me.” He said, pausing. “That really doesn’t make him seem less dodgy, to be fair.”

.

Thinking of the princess in question made her imagine Stiles with long flowing hair like the character’s and a smile cracked on her lips. Despite what he seemed to think about himself, Stiles was still the same person with the same sense of humour about him.

Speaking of, his mannerisms were the same too. Lydia noticed some of his anxious tells and surreptitiously checked her watch. They’d been talking for longer than the ten minutes she’d been told she was allowed by the wolf and vampire outside, and although she trusted Stiles not to hurt her, the same could not be said for his newer instincts that could take over.

“I won’t hear it, Lava Java is the only normal place here. I’ve been outside unlike most of this pack, and most people on the outside are like Sam,” yes, she was on a first name basis with the man who baked her favourite apricot lattice. “Soon enough, you and I will be back there talking about the usual stuff-”

Stiles info-dumping and Lydia listening, because he needed someone to listen to the whole thing.

“I’ll have to meet your maker,” her eyebrow rose at the intentional turn of phrase. “He seems chummy with Peter, which is a red flag...”

Lydia sighed, wanting to reach out but knowing it would be a bad call.

“How you doing? Do you need me to leave now?” Not want, need. There was a notable difference.

|

A low hiss escaped past the vampire’s lips, feeling her pulse in his hand thundering through him. Fear flooded his nostrils, and Joshua wasn’t sure if it came from her or him. Whatever she had done terrified him, his instincts urging him to dispose of her immediately… But he hesitated, his gaze looking into hers. There was still a chance she was a friend of Derek’s—his packmate. Above all, however, she was a living being. Ever since reinventing himself, Joshua had carefully measured the weight he’d carry with the lives he took. And looking into her eyes, it made Joshua paused, unsure if hers was a weight he could carry.

Something pushing back, causing his grip to weakening as he regained his footing and hissed at Lydia defensively. He had no time to access the situation before he was being tossed backwards and his brain vibrated in his skull, causing Joshua to hold his ears. When it was over, he stumbled back to his feet, wiping his mouth and fixing his shirt with confusion. He had the speed to end it all before she realized, a part of him urged him to do so still. “Don’t go in my head ever again,” he said firmly, although whatever she had done had snapped him back to reality and his tone has softened more than he care to let on.

“I would like an explanation,” the vampire decided, furrowing his brow, not worrying to cover up he was still wary of her. “What you’ve done has caused me to trust you less than when you first walked in. I would like to know what were you looking for in my memories.” 

.

Lydia almost hurt her eyes with how hard she rolled them.

“I wasn’t looking for anything in your memories, I’d rather not have seen any of that,” she nodded to the dead vampire. “I was trying to see what I could glean from his; see if we could learn much from his memories of what was done to him. But since you’ve killed him there’s no chance of a repeat try anymore.”

Her glare on him was heavy with accusation at the last part, judging him for having taken a life he’d claimed to be trying to help. Unknown to her, the vampire would recover from his injury, but there was much about vampires Lydia didn’t know given it had fallen to the background during the last few years of her extensive studies. 

With visible reluctance, Lydia decided he deserved more of an explanation.

“I’m a Banshee. One of the things I’m capable of is looking into the memories of others and walking through them as if I am there. I don’t usually do it without consent, it’s fucking gross and immoral otherwise, but in this case doing that was impossible, and it would have helped us understand what happened to him... and in turn, cure him,” she pulled out her phone, and with one finger held up to silence whatever further questions Joshua would have, shot off a message in the group chat that Code Silver (absolutely Stiles’ dumb idea) had happened.

Someone else knew about her.

With it she sent the full name Joshua had given her, and then Lydia put it away without checking any replies that might have come through quickly. 

“Try anything else and you’ll have the entire McCall pack on your back; being buddy buddy with Derek won’t mean shit if anything happens to me.”

–

At her question about what happened, Stiles shuddered. “I honestly don’t remember that much. Scott and I got seperated,” he agreed, “and I had run out of bullets in my gun, so at some point I grabbed the first thing I could reach to use as a weapon.” He was still surprised at how far he had gotten with a frying pan of all things. “It may not have been the best choice but it was a case of having a pan or having no weapon and then I ran into Roman. We were attacked and fought, he told me to run, I didn’t and then all I remember is pain. I’m pretty sure I blacked out soon after I got bit.”

He felt the anxiety from thinking back to the events wreak havoc in his stomach. If Roman wouldn’t have been there, it could have all ended a lot different. He started tapping his fingers on the table.

“The gates to the fair were all locked, I remember that. So even if Roman would’ve taken the chance to get me somewhere safe, there wouldn’t have been a way out.”

.

Lydia listened, rapt, but drew short at one word he used.

“A pan? As in a frying pan?” The banshee asked, frowning. “Oh my god, Stiles, did you really fight rabid wendigo and vampires with a frying pan?”

She would have commended him had it worked. Evidently the makeshift weapon had only served him for a short time before he was left vulnerable. It figured that Stiles didn’t run when he was told to, that was a trait they shared: never running from a fight they knew, or at least believed, they would be useful in. 

Lydia knew she’d have likely done the same and been far less lucky given her immunity to bites such as that of a vampire. She have just... died.

The banshee notably didn’t question why Stiles had his gun while out of uniform at a family carnival. With their past it was always best to stay armed.

“Locked. It was planned then. Whoever caused what happened is trying to send a message,” she murmured to herself, thinking intently. “you never saw anyone who seemed odd to you? Also, how’d you meet this Roman person? Seems weird, although I’m glad don’t get me wrong, that a stray vampire in this mess would do that for you...”

–

Boyd felt himself ease up once Lydia got started about her studies. It did seem interesting what she did and it proved that he had missed a lot. He was mostly surprised that she seemed to actually be talking to him and not really like it was a chore or like it was out of pure politeness. It was a change from the Lydia Martin from school who had barely even known about his existence. 

And when she offered that the pack was there for him, he didn’t feel as aprehensive as he did before. He still wasn’t going to lean too much on them - he didn’t want to burden them, they had enough on their plate without having to take care of a stray omega - but maybe it was a good idea to keep it in mind.

“Scott did indeed,” Boyd said, thinking back to how Scott had certainly looked like a kicked puppy. “I told him that I’m good. I’ve found some people who are there for me as I am there for them.” He did pause here for a moment. “But I do appreciate the offer. None of you have to extend an offer like this to me and I do not expect it but thank you.”

.

Curiosity had her, Lydia had to admit.

“People? I’m glad, Boyd,” she knew he’d had Isaac once, and Erica before her death. Derek had been hit hard by both their passing, but Lydia couldn’t recall Isaac’s reaction. 

The twinkle of laughter sounded again. A young man, a young woman, and this time the shrill of a little girl giggling. Interesting.

“If it helps I’ll try and keep Scott off your back. He means well but the guy’s persistent as hell when he thinks he can help someone,” Lydia said, her tone a mix of deprecating and fond. The banshee toyed with an idea for a moment, before reaching below the table for her bag, wherein she pulled a pen and from off the table a napkin. “Here’s my number if you change your mind or... whatever.”

She held it out to him, feeling a little awkward herself. 

|

The longer they spent together, the more sure Joshua grew of two things: 1. he needed to make time to sit down with Derek to actually catch up. 2. she was a beautiful being. All pointed at her concern for his fellow vampire to be sincere, even if different from Joshua’s. The confidence that irradiated from her melted smoothly into a firm kindness that the vampire had seen throughout history in some of the most influential individuals. Noting certain changes in her vitals, the vampire furrowed his brow. “Miss Martin… I assure you I’m no danger to you, neither will he so long as I’m here,” he felt it necessary to be said, seeing how he couldn’t think what else was wrong with the human.

Her announcement, however, confused him for a moment. By the time he even realized what was going on, Joshua was doing as she asked, intrigued. The white noise caused him to blink repeatedly, a blank expression on his face. “Uhhhh, if this is necromancy, I would rather we didn’t? That’s like…. my biggest fear—-”

                                                               …

…. “In the end, only one thing stands true: iudex damnatur ubi nocens absolvitur,” Joshua spat into the darkness at a small, grinning figure that disappeared into the shadows.

…. “Longinus?” the child laughed hysterically as the vampire sipped blood from a mug. 

“That was the name I engraved onto my weapon. It’s name… after… an inappropriate joke that you’re too young to appreciate just yet, Joshua. Perhaps in a few decades,” Titus teased, laughing at his ward’s pouting. “Doesn’t matter anyway… I’m Henry now, uncle of Joshua… we’re just being human, right? You’re cooking though, kid.”

“What?! I’m but a little boy,” the human child teased, still wrapping his arms around the vampire in an embrace. “Thank you, Titus.”

…. “—it was INCONCLUSIVE!” Joshua was screaming into a pay phone, every word stained in wrath. “I trusted you and you used me! You took my life’s work and prostituted it—YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP AND YOU LISTEN!” His fangs had extended, screaming at the tops of his lungs as he ached for the wendigo’s life. “Fuck money!! It’s unnatural and cruel to force this on others. Especially when you do not have my permissi– hello? HELLO?!” Joshua ripped the phone off with a hiss, dashing away from the scene. 

…. ”Joshua had been playing Battlefront 2 on his Xbox at his Beacon Hills loft when he hopped to his feet, discarding the controller and approaching the stand that held all the DC Funko Pops. “….” He stared for a few more seconds before pulling his phone and texting Alicia until he noted the date. “Oh shit, it’s almost February 14th… I wonder if Derek is going to that carnival thing…” Dismissing the thought, he focused on the most important thing, texting Alicia:

Did you take the Martian Manhunter funko? :sus:

                                                              …

The file hit the floor, Joshua’s fangs extending instinctively as he went into the defensive. “Who are you?!” he hissed threateningly, reaching out to grab her throat in order to subdue her and prevent her from doing whatever she’d just done again. Whatever she was, his instincts were going haywire, and for the first time in a millennium, he had the urge to bite. The vampire on the table began to thrash violently at the commotion, causing Joshua to coldly snap his neck with his free hand—rendering the vampire unconscious until they healed— so that he could focus on the main threat: the one who claimed to be Derek’s packmate…. yet had somehow gotten to the memories he had long locked away in the basement of his soul.  

.

Lydia noted the man’s kind assurances, but focused on pushing her powers onto the vampire patient. Normally she liked explicit consent, but given such a thing was impossible in the being’s current state, Lydia reluctantly tried it.

The first she learned about the vampire, the doctor, was that he was old. So, so old. Not as old as the Nogitsune had been, but still of an age that Lydia couldn’t have fathomed. To be as old as he seemed impossible to comprehend even for her brilliant mind; the violence shown, the changing mannerisms and experiences shown to her by the will of her powers and the man’s own subconscious, told a story of what happened when Humans not designed to live so long were forced to do just that.

Warlocks with their demonic blood in them had the framework for centuries of life. Humans turned to vampires were excluded from that luxury.

He’d suffered. This man had suffered in a different kind of way to what Lydia had herself known, and to see it so intimately had her eyes stinging with tears of empathy.

The Banshee was torn from her tumble into Joshua’s mind by the vampire breaking free and lashing out. She had just enough time to breath in a deep gasp as his hand came to her throat. With her wind pipe closed, no true scream could be released, and she was forced to watch helpless as their patient was murdered by him.

Anger filled her seeing it, and as much as she know understood much about Joshua, the death of the vampire on the table was beyond unnecessary. 

A concussive blast exploded from her body, freeing her neck, and the moment she could Lydia let out a powerful, deafening scream alongside her blast. An infant Banshee she was no more, and she’d had years to learn about her capabilities and practice them. Attacking her neck brought back far too many awful memories for her to hold back. 

The table screeched along the floor as it was thrown back by her power, with pieces of papers and bottles on desks flying away and shattering. 

“Don’t you ever touch me again.”

Her pack would have heard her scream. Any supernatural in town would have. If anything happened to her, they’d know where it came from; who the culprit was.

Isabelle didn’t really need her to finish the sentence to know something pulled her to come to the place, she didn’t know the reason why but, in the end, they were all ending in that place. “Oh no, well if you came back a couple of days ago I’m sure you have never seen me” she said softly “Nah, It’s been only a couple of months, I was living in New York before coming here” she explained.

The Nephilim missed the big city in a way she didn’t really expect, that place even if it was strange to say was calmer. Not to say that leaving the place was raised was somehow sad. “I really miss those busy streets” she admitted.

“That’s the reason I asked you that” she chuckled softly “I have those in my locker, I’ll show you where it is” she said standing up just to led the way. “Oh, thanks but these are not tattoos, the actual name is runes” she pointed out with a smile “I’m not a mun…human” she smiled “At least not entirely”

.

New York. Lydia remembered the place from a handful of visits, and couldn’t imagine missing it the way this woman seemed to. All the hustle and bustle, all the chaos, and a totally different brand of weird that Beacon Hills boasted. 

“City gal moves to the country, there’s a Hallmark movie in there.” Lydia joked, following after Isabelle. “Next thing you’ll meet a farmer type who’ll teach you all about the wonders of... manure and flour. I don’t know, not my area.”

Hearing that Isabelle wasn’t a typical Human answered Lydia’s unasked question. No one, and she meant no one, moved to somewhere like Beacon Hills without some kind of supernatural reasoning; whether a being themself pulled in by the Nemeton, or a relative or friend coming with them. Allison’s cousin was a prime example. Everyone else Human in the town came from families who’d lived there generations, and even then said ancestors likely had some connection to the surreal themselves that got lost to time.

“Runes. I’ll remember that,” just the word tingled in the back of her head, as if she was meant to know something. It wasn’t unlike the feeling of deja vu mixed with ASMR. “that’s fine with me. I’m part of a Pack here, but I’m not a werewolf myself.”

As she liked to, Lydia kept her true species to herself. She’d only just met Isabelle, and finding that Allison didn’t know her knocked her down on the trustworthiness scale. 

–

It seemed like she had more questions than she was actually asking and for that, Boyd was grateful. Lydia wasn’t necessarily the person he wanted to get into any of the potential topics that would no doubt come up sooner or later. Seeing her only reminded him of everything he tried to push away.

It had taken him a short moment to realize that she had been talking again, so he hummed in response. “What are you studying?” He asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from anything Pack related - anything, he had been hiding away from.

.

“Brain and cognitive science, among other things. Still working on what I want my doctorate to be studying; considering doing a study on how supernatural influences affect brain function, or perhaps a more detailed study into how Pack bonds work... There’s a lot I could explore. And that’s without even mentioning how Alpha claws work and how they’re able to access the mind the way they can.”

She shrugged, aware she was rambling and not caring much. Lydia enjoyed talking about her studies, and took pleasure from the mental gymnastics it took puzzling things out. 

"I’ll be looking into what happened at the carnival. Call it a personal investment.” She murmured the last part, thinking of Stiles and how easily they could have lost him completely had the vampire not been there to turn him- or just chosen not to. “This will come of weird, and probably goes totally against everything you know about me from school days; but if you need anything, we’re here. Scott’s probably already given you his whole puppy eyed, heartfelt speech, I know. Still...”

.

“I tried to warn her, but she just told me she can take care of herself. Family trait.” She sighed, rubbing her face. “I stayed there overnight, but it definitely felt like an elephant in the room the whole time.” She wasn’t worried about Belle, she knew she was raised able to look out for herself, but the idea of her having feelings for someone like Peter, with everything she knew, knowing he wasn’t deserving of her in the slightest… She didn’t understand it. She didn’t want to understand it. “I’m still trying to decide if I wanna threaten Peter, or if that’d make him worse.” And really, it’d be nice to have someone to let her wrath out on.

“Hmm, I’m thinking a latte with an almond croissant. Think with everything the packs going through, we deserve to spoil ourselves a little.” She smiled, standing in the queue, feeling relaxed at the normality of Lydia being here. It was as though they’d gone back in time. 

“Lydia, there’s everything stopping me doing the same. There’s too much happening, too many dangers that the pack need me for. Dad’s not always here to provide hunter intel, and I might not hunt anymore, but I was trained with the same mentality as the assholes leaving traps everywhere. I can best guess their next move. Plus… It’s easier to explain my… situation. The gym gave me a job even with no valid ID, and they didn’t ask too many questions. Legally I don’t… exist anymore.” She said, choosing the words carefully as she looked down. Everything always came back to her death. The word wasn’t any easier to say, no matter how long she’d been back.

.

Lydia couldn’t deny that, but still, Allison was right to want Peter away from her cousin. The man was dangerous and morally corrupt, that was towards people he considered his allies; who knew what he’d do if a bad break up happened, or anything, really, that pissed him off. 

“Well, if you ever decide you do want to talk with him count me in. I’ve got a lot of neat banshee tricks up my sleeve now that I’d love to show case on someone like him,” she said in a dark tone.

Being able to look at situations with a hunter’s eye was a huge advantage, but it bothered her that Allison was putting her wants and enjoyment below the needs of the pack. It frustrated Lydia that times were supposed to be changing, and yet if anything those belonging to the supernatural community appeared to be in more danger than before now hunters had less trouble convincing newcomers that their prey really did exist.

“Damn, I didn’t think about that,” Lydia whispered, trying to think of ways to get Allison back into legal living status. She’d read about cases of declared deceased people fighting for years to be declared alive again, and those were just people who’d never died at all. “We could see if there’s any advice vampires can give about it. They must have their ways to build new identities every thirty years or so every time they have to move to a new place, going back centuries.”

Her tone shifted to a chipper one once they reached the front of the line, and Lydia gave the girl serving a broad smile. “Hey, we’d like two lattes, one with two caramel pumps please. An almond croissant and an apricot l- oh, you’re sold out, hm, in that case, I’ll have an apple turnover instead. Thanks.”

Without even waiting to find out how much it would be, Lydia was already stuffing the tip jar with two twenties she had in her purse. Being at college and seeing the shit her friends there went through in their customer service roles just to get through the week- not all of them had the marvelous bank account Lydia had access to it seemed- she’d had her eyes opened to the reality of what that job was like. Now giving generous tips had become second nature.

“You know, that one who turned Stiles might be a good call. Him or Malia’s boss. I hear they’re both pretty old, old enough to need to reinvent themselves back before Humans knew vampires existed,” the banshee thought a loud, handing over another twenty to pay for their order.

|

The word torture confused him further. Perhaps they were looking at the same situation from different perspectives. For Joshua, the state in which his brethren now found themselves was the real torture. Vampires were meant to be evolved beings, a proud race—perhaps to a fault. To be a mindless monster was to be robbed of their identity altogether. He knew he could easily be the one strapped to the table, snarling like a rabid dog and itching to go on a violent killing spree. To become his worst fear: a wager of war. And what was worst, without even knowing what he was fighting for.

It took him a moment to realize that the only reason she seemed distraught: her worries about their subject. Her question made it clear where she stood, and Joshua believed he could understand it to a degree. This was the famed McCall Pack… It was frustrating and sad, but also sweet. That she looked at a vampire and saw her equal. Wrong, of course, since science would quickly diffuse that misunderstanding. Still, the sentiment touched the ancient vampire.

“You’re asking me to put my emotions in the middle, but that will only encourage me,” Joshua admitted, looking down at the subject. “He’s young…. Perhaps a couple of centuries… But that doesn’t mean I don’t see myself when I look at him, Miss Martin,” he shared. “To be deprived of one’s identity and be turned into…” he trailed off, looking at the rabid vampire.

“—The monsters they think us to be… That’s torture. You’re asking me to give up on him, and I refuse. If he’s dying, he’s dying with his own doing the best he can to get him back. Not getting euthanized by the United Worlds Association’s  Shadowhunters.” Putting his own feelings in the mix hadn’t been the best idea, now he was more willing than ever to conduct the experiment. The question was, would Derek’s packmate attempt to stop him or would she opt to assist? 

  .

Listening to his reasoning did little to assuage her concerns. While she’d never presume to know better than someone who shared kinship with the vampire on the table, Lydia also couldn’t help the fact she knew acutely what it was like to undo something so theoretical and intense on both mind and body.

“We don’t have to give up on him,” Lydia said, words slow as she thought to herself. 

Generally she didn’t like to let new people know about her species unless it was either strictly necessary or at least someone else in her pack knew that said person was aware, because of past experiences of her being exploited for being a banshee. 

Could she let this man into that secretive bubble for the sake of the vampire strapped to the table? Convincing Joshua to leave the room wouldn’t work and she couldn’t come back later to investigate in privacy because this was going ahead now- whether she liked it or not it seemed- so that just left it for her to decide whether the man on the table was worth it.

Of course he was, Lydia reasoned. If she could give him a voice in this, or even if it was a glimpse into what happened to him to give them insight on how to reverse it that didn’t involve exsanguination; it would be worth it.

“Give me a second, yeah. I want to try something...” She finally announced, getting her phone back out and playing the white noise audio she had saved for these moments. She rested it on a near by table. “Don’t say a thing. I need it quiet.”

Her eyes fluttered closed and she let her senses pull her into the white noise. The banshee tried to reach out for the vampire strapped down, both physically and psychically, slowly as if approaching a wild animal and mentally dropped into her powers.

Instead of plunging into whatever Joshua’s subject had to offer, whatever had been done to him resisted her and before she could stop it, Lydia’s powers seemed to ricochet and she was pulled into the memories of the other vampire in the room instead... 

@supernaturaldisasterx @tarnishedargent @boomeranghale @bbysupermanbeta @magicaeseamus @oftwosoulsalicia @ericareyesexe @unveiling-alec @ofangelbloodandfire @artofrunningaway @alphakage @ofchiiaroscuro @strippertheo @haleofxfirelaura

Belle. Okay, miss school counsellor smelling of stale perfume and setting powder.

Peter. Finally, an outfit as shitty as you.

Seamus. Honey. Why'd you make us look at this.

Allison. Black lipstick isn't the look for you, try a green maybe? Also that bag with that shirt? Babe are you okay?

Clary. Just wear a dumpster bag next time it'll give more dimension and class.

Liam. Sweetie. Make an effffooooorrrttt

Alec. Magnus forgot you leave an outfit laid out for you didn't he? That isn't how mundanes dress anymore.

Alicia. Really had to search for this one, you dress tight, but honey you could live in that tent you're using for pants.

Theo. Snake pants for a snake.

Scott. This is nearly a look, it's like, super close.

Laura. This is why you're a deputy and not a personal stylist. We're going shopping, ask Derek for my number.

Stiles.........

Erica. I cropped out the jeans under that dress for you own dignity. You're welcome.

Nashuja. Hey lady, how many kids you picking up from soccer practice today?

“You wanna know what’s stressing me out right now? The fact that my cousin’s in town, and Peter Hale is making out with her.” She huffed, rubbing her face. She still wasn’t sure what to do with that information, but she couldn’t just sit on it. She couldn’t see Belle getting hurt by the smug asshole, and she hoped that Lydia was on her side of not understanding how the pack could trust him. She climbed out of the car after her best friend, shrugging her shoulders. “The pack have got too much going on for me to worry about studying. Can’t you just make your mom pass me on the principle of it?” She teased, heading inside.

“They’re called Orion and Artemis, and they’re rats.” She paused, finally looking over at Lydia’s face, and shrugged. “Scott saved them from an abusive owner, and I needed something to keep me occupied, so he brought them over. And they’re a lot of fun! I’ve been trying to teach them tricks, but they mainly just wanna cuddle and sleep in my cleavage.” She snorted, smiling a little as she thought about them.

“I’m definitely not trying to get rid of you, I just… you got out of here. The rest of us didn’t. This town can’t bring all of us down with it’s bullshit.”

.

Lydia pulled a face.

“Peter Hale? What is your cousin even doing here to be anywhere near that creep?” She asked, outraged at the idea. Didn’t this cousin of Allison’s have any taste!?

Obviously Lydia respected and supported Scott’s decision to allow Peter in the pack, and kept things civil for Malia’s sake, but Lydia disliked the man intensely. Looking back on their interactions when she was younger, Lydia could clearly see how inappropriate much of it was, and even though the man taught her a lot about who she was and what she was; adult Lydia wanted to remove teenage Lydia from the situation completely.

“Hm, nope. You know my mom, she’ll just tell you to get your shit together and work for it like everyone else,” her mother was a source of pride for Lydia. Her strength came from her mom. “What do you want? I’m having an apricot lattice, they’re to die for.”

Given it was lunchtime, the queue was long enough to give them time to chat while they waited to be served.

“Rats?” Came her sceptical response. “Can’t say I particularly like that idea, but if they’re cute I could be convinced.”

The thought of two rats cuddled up with Allison was enough to melt Lydia’s heart. Her feelings for Allison had always been mixed between sisterly to something other, there had never been anyone before or since who warmed her like the Argent heiress. If the rats made Allison that happy, a spark of joy in her eyes just talking about them, then Lydia would put aside her prejudices about the little creatures. 

“Sure, I went out and lived a life that didn’t revolve around this place. But for starters, there’s nothing stopping you from doing the same. I have this conversation constantly with Malia; head out, see what you want to see, explore and experience it all... As much as all that is great, and you might feel like this place is a trap, it’s home. Sometimes you gotta leave to realise what you have.”

|

There was a certain surprise in her features that the vampire was not expecting, causing him to subconsciously mimic the expression on his friend’s packmate’s features. “I do. We met a while back… During his teenage years.” Completely by chance as if their destinies had been tied for generations. He’d been working on an interesting occurrence in the Druid population in New York, one that hinted at their true roots… Instead, as he worked in a small clinic, he was faced with a scared, blue eyed young werewolf hiding in his office. Not a word had been exchanged in the mere seconds they had before two armed hunters kicked in his door… And they barely had time to blink before Joshua had snapped their necks. Although violent, that initial meeting would be one of Joshua’s dearest memories.

Hearing Lydia’s questions on the the disgraced Shadowhuter, Joshua sighed softly. “Sadly, my knowledge on the subject its very limited. I’ve just recently met a nephilim for the first time ever a few days ago,” he shared, a hint of sorrow in his voice. So much knowledge he now had to catch up on… “They’re also very hush hush, preferring to take information rather than share what they have.” That was common knowledge among the supernatural—or downworlders as they put it, but Joshua thought that sounded ugly. “The research data, as of now, its more of a legend… And I doubt they’ll be willing to share it, if they haven’t destroyed it.” 

Lydia’s sudden tension told Joshua he had upset her, and yet he couldn’t help but blankly stare in confusion. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” he admitted. “There has yet to be an anesthetic developed for supernaturals of species such as the lycan-kind or the vampyr-kind… With the wendigo subjects, I could try traditional anesthesia and opioids for the pain…” He tried brainstorming in an attempt to reverse whatever mistake he had made that had rubbed her the wrong way. They didn’t even feel pain the same, seeing how what could kill a human, often didn’t even subdue a vampire. “Literally, fifty-fifty,” he answered with an arched brow when she asked for patient survival estimates. “By my personal calculations since, I repeat again, this is a case unseen before. Seeing the alternatives, however, this is the best chance we got to get them their lives back,” Joshua pointed out. “The alternative is euthanasia without even giving them a chance.”

.

Remembering the pack’s brief encounter with Derek restored to a teenager, the image of this man and that boy meeting made her wonder if it was before or after the fire. 

Shadowhunters. Hmph. The more Lydia learned about the Shadowhunters, the more it reminded her of something like the CIA. Secretive, nosy, and elitist. 

Whenever information was destroyed or kept for the sake of pride or to maintain a sense of power over others, Lydia grew ever more frustrated with the state of the world. Advancements could be made in leaps and bounds if people would coordinate better; Scott had taught her that.

“Don’t understand? Doctor, you’re proposing to torture this individual. Your hypothesis has merit, but morally it’s more than questionable,” Lydia explained, motioning to their entrapped subject. “The procedure would cause extensive trauma to any body, and given your estimation of patient survival is fifty-fifty...”

She trailed off, realising she may as well have been talking to a brick wall. The man before seemed to genuinely not understand her, nor see anything wrong with the intensive experiment he was going to enact. It sent a chill down her spine.

Having been subjected to experiments by people with the same cool detachment Joshua had, Lydia suddenly felt a kinship to the poor being strapped down. Peter, Eichen House, Theo, the Dread Doctors... She, unlike perhaps many of her fellow pack, had attempted therapy and those four topics had burned through her in those sessions. The emotional upheaval of addressing it all was the reason she quit seeing her therapist; having to relive it in her explanations was a raw, brutal suffering.

“You say this could give them their old lives back, which would be a break through I admit. They could even be coherent enough to tell us who did this to them,” Lydia mused to herself, terrified between her own fears about it and the logical side. Quoting her Alpha; “But do the ends justify the means, Doctor Waite?”

“Nothing good new.” She clarified, shrugging. “I didn’t go back to get my high school diploma, so I don’t plan on heading to college, and just have a job at the gym, teaching swim classes and lifeguarding. I have an apartment and a couple of pets, and that’s about it.” She smiled sadly, keeping her sleeves down over her wrists. She was still getting her head around that development, she didn’t need the pack fussing yet, not when she didn’t know what it even meant.

She smiled faintly, listening as Lydia detailed her life at MIT. Hearing her talk about guys and girls though, she blinked, about to ask what she meant, and then hearing Lydia pause, she quickly looked down. Some things just didn’t need to be said.

I forgot you were six feet under. I forgot you were dead.

“Well, that’s good. I’m happy for you, Lyds.” She smiled, looking over at her best friend. “Even more the reason you should head back there if you want. We’ve got it all covered here. Or well, the others do, I have to keep my distance from Stiles for now - Scott’s rule.”

.

She pulled a sympathetic face.

“Oof, all the more reason to get it off your chest.” Lydia murmured, pulling over into a bay outside Lava Java.

It occurred to her that maybe she ought to have chosen somewhere else, given who she’d run into the last time she visited the cafe, but there was no way to completely avoid somewhere she liked to eat just because of one guy. Boyd was grown, he could handle it if they came in during his shift, and Lydia intended to ignore him anyway; Allison had her full attention now.

“If that’s what you want, but I think you should go back and finish.” Lydia called as she got out. “As for these pets, I’m coming by to meet them! What are their names? What are they? Please tell me they’re cats.”

Lydia loved cats. 

She pulled a face as she held the cafe door open for Allison. “Ew, are you really trying to get rid of me? I just got here, babe.”

Scott’s Rules? Hmph, she’d see about that. Lydia was getting in there to talk to Stiles, no matter what.