When Everything Comes Crashing Down TW/TMR

XII

Lydia stood still for a moment, trying not to let Stiles's words hurt her.

She knew how much she loved him. It'd been years since her senior year in high school when she'd forgotten her sarcastic friend, but she still remembered. She remembered feeling that a piece of her was missing, a piece that she couldn't name or place. And while everyone insisted that Stiles wasn't real, she persisted. Because she was Lydia Martin. And Lydia Martin doesn't give up.

And then, that moment when the candle blew out in the Argent's bunker. That moment, when she realized that she's loved Stiles Stilinski ever since their first kiss. He's always been there for her. At least, once she discovered who he was. She knew he's always loved her.

He lost his memory. Lydia could work with that. She stuck by him, hoping that their next hug or kiss would remind him of her. But it didn't.

He kept looking at her the same way she used to look at him, as a friend who's unsure of their feelings. When she first found him by the Sheriff's house, it was almost like he'd never been gone. But he had. She's been alone for years, but she felt even more alone by his side because he won't sneak glances at her when he thinks she's not looking, tease her, and he's stopped touching her. He still looks out for her, but it's not the same. He doesn't trust her.

Lydia forced her feet to move as a loud sound jarred her out of her thoughts. She's heard that sound before. She's blinded as she steps outside, but once she squints she can see a crowd beginning to gather around what was called the Box.

She pushed to the front of the crowd, her five-foot-three stature not being able to see. One of the Gladers, Gally, helped a blacked-haired woman out of the Box. She stood with her back to Lydia, but Gally's facial expressions were easy to read. He did not like this new girl.

The crowd began to part before her, and Lydia saw why. Stiles was rushing forward towards the girl. Lydia registered the look of shock on his face as he slowed down. He didn't expect this girl to be here. Then, they both rushed towards each other at the same time. And then, there was the kiss.

Lydia was frozen. She watched as Stiles pulled away, hugging her, and his eyes landed on Lydia. She hid her emotions, before turning and heading somewhere, anywhere but here.

She was alone for a minute before someone followed.

"Lydia," Malia called after her. Lydia turned to face her best friend. At first, it hurt to call her that, because to Lydia, best friend had meant Allison. Now, the pain was gone, but the memory of the dark-haired archer was ever-present.

"Stiles has moved on," Lydia said flatly. She knew this wasn't true. He simply just didn't remember her.

"You remember how hard it is to remember," Malia said bluntly. Sometimes Lydia admired her bluntness, but other times, such as this, she wished someone would break it to her gently.

"But we were trying to," Lydia sighed, "And from the looks of it, he doesn't want to." She turned and began walking away.

"He didn't kiss back if you were wondering," Malia said, following her. Lydia had noticed. "And, he had a nervous breakdown right after." Lydia stopped.

"What?" Lydia faced Malia again.

"Yep. Scott and the others dragged him and the girl to talk secretly," Malia nodded.

"Is he okay? What happened?"

"Don't know. He was fine until he just panicked and wouldn't let Scott and the blondie near him. I wasn't invited to the secret meeting," Malia shrugged. Lydia wanted to focus on the fact that Stiles could be hurt, but so was Malia.

"Hey, I'm sure they barely let Scott come. They're all very protective of Stiles," Lydia reassured her. Malia cracked a smile.

"Yeah. Yeah, they are. I had no idea that Stiles could be a leader," Malia chuckled. I did, Lydia thought. I knew how smart he was. "Anyways, we don't need them. Where were you going?" Lydia glanced behind her, at the mass of trees, before her gaze slid to the building to the left of it.

"There," she pointed.

"Do you even know what's in there?" Malia asked.

"Nobody does," another voice said. Surprised, Lydia turned to see a small boy behind her. He had a mass of dark curly hair, and a bloody sandstone colored necklace hanging around his neck. "It's the Runner's hideout. I think WICKED rebuilt it though. After Alby burnt it down." Lydia and Malia glanced at each other. "I'm Chuck. You're Tommy's girl, right?"

"I-I, yeah," Lydia says, "I'm not too sure." She glances back at the now dispersing crowd.

"Because of Teresa?" Chuck asked. "You've got nothing to worry about. I heard she's a traitor. Plus, Tommy doesn't look at her like he looks at you." The boy shrugged, completely oblivious to the instant effect his words had on her. "Anyways, let's explore."

Feeling slightly better than before, Lydia let Chuck lead them to the mysterious Runner's hideout. The building was much smaller than the Homestead, but it was more intimidating to Lydia because she had no clue what was inside.

The door was unlocked, allowing for easy access. Chuck held it open for them, a large grin on his face at the joy of being a gentleman, and closed it behind them. Lydia had to squint as her eyes adjusted to the light change. Torches lined the walls, but that wasn't what drew her eye.

In the center of the room, was a large table with the layout of the Maze. Lydia moved to stand as close as she could, analyzing the Maze. She saw no way out. Glancing back at Malia, Lydia noticed that the girl was also staring at the map, tracing her finger over the different pathways. Rolling her eyes, Lydia shifted her gaze to Chuck, who was gazing on in awe.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps, and voices mumbling indistinguishable words. Chuck looked at her in alarm, which meant that they definitely weren't supposed to be in there.

"Down here," Malia hissed, climbing under the table. Lydia and Chuck were quick to follow, just in time, as the door flew open.

"Too many shanks," they heard Minho grumble. Many pairs of feet surrounded the table.

"So, the supernatural," one said finally, Alby, if Lydia remembered correctly. "That's a thing now?" The speaker seemed incredulous. Lydia looked at Malia in surprise.

"Yeah," Scott confirmed. "My friends and I are all some kind of supernatural. Back home, we, along with Stiles, er, Thomas, would protect the humans."

"Apparently the Flare made me a werewolf," she heard Newt said quietly. "Although, something's wrong with me."

"Not exactly," Stiles said, making Lydia nearly jump. "You were a candidate for the cure, which means your blood is somewhat resistant to the bite. It won't be long until one side wins or you die."