Summary: A little imagine for the way I see Stydia happening in S6A, following the trailer (THE TRAILER! THAT FREAKING AMAZING TRAILER, AM I RIGHT?!).
This will be a three-part fic: first we'll have Stiles and Lydia before Stiles is taken by the Ghost Riders, then both their points of view while Stiles is away, and lastly their reunion. Hope you enjoy it :)
Beta-ed by the lovely @bebethsas on tumblr. Thanks, sweetie xx
= As of January 24, 2019, this particular story will NOT BE CONTINUED =
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"I'm next," he whispers as it dawns on him, as he realizes everyone he has ever known will forget he ever existed.
He doesn't think he's ever run this fast in his entire life, not even when he was trying to escape a supernatural menace. Granted, that's exactly what he's doing right now, in a way, and yet not quite so. He just needs to defy time, to run fast enough to find someone else, anyone else. Someone who still remembers him before they come for him.
The Ghost Riders.
He's mostly out of breath when he finds her, almost knocking Lydia to the ground when he bumps into her petite frame, but somewhat steady hands find her waist effortlessly as if they always belonged there and she manages to keep her balance, letting out a chuckle at his clumsiness that the old Lydia would abhor, the kind smile falling from her face when she sees how anxious he seems to be. How scared.
"Stiles?" Her voice wavers, her tone is apprehensive.
His hands let go of her reluctantly but he remains close, releasing a breath of relief when he notices she still seems to have recollection of him.
Why does it feel like they're always out of time? "Lydia, I saw them."
"Who?" She asks, confused. It hasn't even been ten minutes since they'd all been together.
He's nervous, she notices, running his tongue along his bottom lip more than once and it instantly makes her feel something in her core that she's sure is a bad omen. Things were going too well to last long.
His words confirm her fears. "The Riders. Lydia, I saw them."
She feels sick, and for a second she feels lightheaded enough that Stiles grabs ahold of her hands, afraid that she might tumble down. "You--"
"Saw the Ghost Riders passing, yes," he mumbles, looking her over because for a second there, Lydia paled.
She looks taken aback, as if what he said is something completely unconceivable and out of this world, as if she doesn't believe a word he just said. "The... The--"
"Yes." Normally he'd blurt it out impatiently, maybe with a roll of eyes or an annoyed huff, but not now. Now, the word comes out whispered, almost in resignation.
"No," she says with a light shake of her head, denial clear in her eyes. "No, it can't be. You didn't--"
His thumbs start drawing circles on the back of her hands absentmindedly. "Lydia, I saw them," he repeats but it does nothing to make her believe in him more. "I'm going to be taken."
Her eyes start burning without her consent at his resolute tone, as if there's nothing more they can do to prevent what's about to happen. "No!"
"Yes, Lyd--"
"No, we won't let it," she says with a trembling voice. "I won't let it."
It's hard to breathe, he thinks, when everything was starting to look up for them and now everything is not. "My-" His voice breaks and his mouth feels too dry all of a sudden, remembering what happened not two minutes ago. "My dad. Lydia, he doesn't remember me. And neither does your mother. I ran into them just a few minutes ago and they... People are already starting to forget about me."
