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Allison still thinks this was a stupid idea – everything she knows about Peter tells her that the price for anything he might have to offer is probably greater than the cost of muddling through alone. Surely Lydia could have found someone else to teach her…Still, Allison is happy to play bodyguard, and more than happy to knock Peter down a peg or two. A few volts of electricity don’t make up for what he did to Lydia, but Allison is willing to take what she can get. Meanwhile, Lydia – cool, competent, brilliant Lydia, is running this show.
They leave Derek’s loft with Peter’s voice echoing after them. Lydia keeps her head up, stares straight ahead and lets Allison tow her away. Once they’re out of sight Allison feels Lydia’s hand shift in hers, gripping back tight enough to be just short of painful, her fingers cold against Allison’s. Allison doesn’t say anything, and she doesn’t let go of Lydia’s hand until they’re safely back in Allison’s car. Just to be on the cautious side, she doesn’t speak until they’re a good mile away. Lydia follows her lead.
“You okay?” Allison asks, once they’re on the road, heading for Lydia’s house.
Lydia starts. “Fine. I’m fine.”
“So what didn’t you tell him?”
Lydia tilts her head and gives Allison a sideways look and a small smile. Allison knows she’s shaken, felt it in the grip of her fingers, but Lydia looks perfectly composed. Allison watches as she brushes an artful strand of strawberry-blond hair away from her face, arches her eyebrows and says, “What makes you think I was holding back?”
“Well,” Allison keeps her eyes on the road, watching Lydia in her peripheral vision, “Werewolves can hear lies.”
“And?”
“And you always know more than you’re saying.”
“True,” Lydia says, smug superiority in the curve of her lips and the lilt of her voice. “But I didn’t lie.”
“No. But you suspect something, don’t you?”
“I do.” Lydia pauses, then says, “Remember Coyote-girl?”
***
“Peter is Malia’s father? What is it with this town?”
“I can’t be sure. I just get…echoes. Reverberations. I could be wrong, like the mental institution.”
“I don’t think so, I don’t think you’re wrong. You just need to learn how to interpret what your senses are telling you.”
“But I don’t know how! I’m just...fumbling around in the dark!” Lydia makes a sharp, frustrated gesture and leans her head against her fingertips.
“Lydia, you just found out about these powers, and the only person who seems to know anything about them has a history of attacking you and messing with your head. I think you’re doing amazingly well with what you’ve got. I have complete confidence in you.”
“Sorting data,” Lydia murmurs. “I do much better with textbooks and equations. I can move things with my mind; there’s no guidebook for that.”
“Just…trust yourself. You’ll get it.”
“Before or after someone else gets killed?”
“You’ll get it,” Allison insists. “Peter said you need to focus…you don’t need him for that. You don’t need anyone. You did the thing with the claws on your own.”
“But I don’t know how I did it! Experiments are useless if they can’t be replicated!”
“So come back to the claws later. For now, design something you can replicate. We learned the scream downs out the noise, right? Helps you…zoom in, or whatever. So go with that.”
Lydia closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “Right. Focus. Drown the noise.”
“Drown the noise,” Allison agrees, pulling up in front of Lydia’s house.
Lydia nods and hums, thinking. “So we’ll experiment. Thanks, by the way.”
“For zapping Peter?” Allison says, putting the car in park and turning her head to look at Lydia, eyebrows raised. “It was my pleasure.”
“Well, that too. But no. I meant for coming with me.”
Allison swallows and doesn’t look away. She thinks about saying, well, that’s what friends are for, but she doesn’t. Instead she holds Lydia’s gaze and says, “That was my pleasure as well.”
Lydia smiles and looks down. It’s dark, so it’s hard to tell, but Allison thinks she might be blushing.
“Hey,” Allison says, before she can re-think it, “If you want him dead just say the word.”
Lydia bites her lip, considering, and her eyes lift to meet Allison’s. “I think he’s more useful alive. For the moment.”
“Whatever you want,” Allison says. “Anything you want.”
“I know,” Lydia says, her eyes big and dark.
Allison feels a sudden surge of anger and protectiveness and reaches out to take Lydia’s hand. “We don’t need him,” she says, “You don’t need him.”
“It’s foolish to waste resources,” Lydia says, but she’s no longer meeting Allison’s eyes, and her fingers are gripping Allison’s with an intensity that belies her words.
“No,” Allison says. “That’s not how this works. You don’t have to take one for the team. He’s a wild card and a loose cannon and a murderer. If you think he can still be useful, help us in some way, then he can stay, but if you want him gone he’s gone. No questions asked. He’s a threat, Lyds. And he hurt you.”
“And you’d kill him for that?”
“In a heartbeat,” Allison says, and realizes as she does that it’s the unvarnished truth. Her code is not the code of her grandfather, or even her father’s code, but something more subtle, more nuanced. Allison no longer thinks in terms of werewolves versus humans; she thinks in terms of Threat and Not A Threat. Anyone who attacks one of Allison’s people is fair game, and Peter fits the bill many times over.
“Thanks,” Lydia says, still not looking up, still clinging to Allison’s fingers. There’s a short pause and Lydia swallows hard. “I just. I don’t want to be the crazy one. I won’t be a liability. If I can’t control it, I’m a liability.”
“Lydia,” Allison breathes, reaching out to lay her other hand along the side of Lydia’s face, “Lydia, no. We were stupid to keep you in the dark for so long, but we thought we were protecting you. We should have told you the truth. But you were never a liability.”
“That’s sweet of you to say,” Lydia says. “But I was. I was Peter’s puppet. I hurt Derek and drugged everyone at the party. Anything Peter does now is my responsibility and I can’t even control my stupid…Banshee…whatever!”
“It doesn’t matter. You’ve got a team now – a, a pack. We were stupid but I’m sorry and we’ve got your back now. I’ve got your back.”
Lydia reaches her free hand up to cover Allison’s, tilting her head into Allison’s hand. “I want to help. But I can’t…trust myself. You know? He was in my head. I saw things that weren’t there! I hurt people! Like I said, colossal failure!”
“No,” Allison says, nudging Lydia until she meets Allison’s eyes, “No, Lydia, he’s gone. You’re you and you can do amazing things. And you can and you will learn to control it, with or without Peter’s help. It’s a skill, like anything else. You didn’t fail, with Stiles. You just need to do a little more…refining. And if Peter even thinks about hurting you again I swear to you I’ll make him pay.”
Lydia smiles. “It’s good to have friends in high places.”
“Or low places.”
“That too.”
Allison realizes abruptly that she’s still holding Lydia’s hand, and still has one hand framing the side of Lydia’s face. Allison could back away, probably should back away, but she doesn’t. Instead, she leans in and presses her lips to Lydia’s. Lydia’s lips part; she grips Allison’s hand harder and Allison slides her hand over Lydia’s smooth hair to cradle the back of her head and kisses Lydia. She tries to put everything into it that words are failing to convey. I’m sorry and I’m here and you’re amazing, I believe in you.
When Allison pulls back Lydia is staring at her, lips parted, eyes wide, breathing hard.
“And what was that for?”
Allison knows that tone. It’s the one Lydia uses when she’s not entirely sure about something and is trying hard to hide it. Allison feels her lips quirk into a smile.
“For you. And because I wanted to. And because you’re brilliant and beautiful and the best friend I’ve ever had, and I’m not leaving you.”
“Oh,” Lydia says. “Well in that case you should come back here and do that again. I think I might have missed something the first time around.”
Allison grins. “With pleasure.”