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1
Lydia focusses on the flame. Deaton told her that’s all she has to do. For her, a banshee, the veil is thin and easily breached, so all she has to do is focus on the flame of that little purple candle.
Empty her mind.
When Lydia’s mind slips to Allison’s face and sweet laughter again, she gives up. This isn’t working. She’s never going to talk to her best friend again. She loves Malia and Kira, but the hole inside her heart hasn’t shrunk, the pain become any less dull, in all those months.
Lydia pulls her legs up and wraps her arms around them, hugging herself tightly. She lets her eyes become unfocussed, and her mind drift.
‘Lydia?’
For a moment Lydia thinks the voice is a something from her memories, but then she hears it again.
‘Lydia, is that you?’ Allison’s voice comes from the direction of the candle.
‘Allison?’ Lydia says, leaning closer to the flame.
‘Yes. It’s m-‘
Allison’s voice fades.
‘Allison?’
Lydia’s room stays silent.
2
It’s been two days since those few words from Allison, and Lydia is finally ready to try again. There is no pack business tonight, and her mom is out on a date. It’s either with Melissa McCall or the Sheriff, but Lydia secretly hopes it’s both.
She’s sitting on the floor again, the candle in front of her. She focusses her mind on Allison. The dimpled smile, the happy laughter, the power she’d radiated. Allison was always so kind, giving everyone more chances than they deserved, including Lydia.
‘Allison? Can you hear me?’ Lydia asks, her voice shaking a little.
‘Lydia? Is that really you?’
‘It’s me.’ Lydia can’t help the smile that spreads on her face, or the tears that flow down her cheek. ‘I miss you.’
‘I miss you, too. I always thought that time stopped existing when you died, but it feels like an eternity since I’ve talked to you.’
‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.’
‘Don’t be. None of you should be. I got to save my friends.’
Lydia can hear the smile in Allison’s voice, and it makes her miss her all the more.
‘But we didn’t get to save ours.’
There’s no answer.
3
‘If you mess this up I will kill you,’ Lydia warns Stiles.
‘I know. I just- I need to-‘
Lydia understands. She’d needed the same thing.
She focusses on Allison again, and asks Stiles to the same thing.
‘Well that took you long enough,’ Allison’s bright, disembodied voice sounds through the room.
Stiles yelps and jumps back a little. ‘Oh my go-‘
‘Stiles?’ Allison asks.
‘Yeah, I- I’m here. Lydia said she’d talked to you and I just wanted to s-‘
‘If you’re going to apologize too, I’m coming over just to kick your butt.’
‘I told you,’ Lydia mutters.
‘And Lydia, you better not be bringing by the entire pack, just so they can apologize, or I’m coming over there to your butt.’
‘You know that’s not much of an incentive, right? I’d love to have you come here.’
It’s silent for a moment and Lydia thinks that she’s lost the connection again, but then Allison says, ‘I’d love to be there.’
For a moment the flame flickers, and Lydia is scared there’s a draft coming from somewhere. But it steadies, burning brighter than before. It’s not just brighter, there’s a face too.
‘Allison, I can see you,’ Lydia breathes in awe.
‘You can?’ Stiles asks. He peers a little closer at the flame, his face dropping when he can’t see his friend as well.
‘I can see you, too,’ Allison grins. ‘I can’t see Stiles though.’
‘I can’t see you either.’
‘Are you sitting next to Lydia?’
‘No across from her.’
‘Move next to her.’
Stiles slides over, carefully so he won’t knock over the candle. He’s sitting right next to Lydia now, and he grabs her hand for support. He gasps the moment their skins touch.
‘I see you,’ Allison says, making her voice deep and raspy.
Stiles laughs weakly. ‘I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s supposed to make a dorky reference.’
Allison shrugs, still smiling brightly. ‘So, tell me all the gossip.’
4
Lydia’s getting the hang of this, of contacting Allison. She can now see most of Allison’s body. If she doesn’t pay too much attention to the fact that she can see her dresser through Allison’s torso, she can pretend that her friend is actually here.
Lydia’d expected to be happier once she’d contacted her, but she isn’t. Every time she blows out the candle, the hole in her heart feels a little bigger.
‘What’s wrong?’ Allison asks. ‘You’ve been quiet tonight. It is night, right?’
‘It’s a full moon.’ That’s why none of the others are here. At least that what she tries to tell herself. That the others aren’t here because they’re running in the preserve, and Stiles hadn’t asked.
‘I’m assuming the new guy is dressed this time?’ Allison grins.
Lydia chuckles. Liam had grumbled about even being made fun of in the afterlife now, but he’d also looked proud that they’d talked about him to Allison.
‘For the citizens of Beacon Hills, I hope so,’ Lydia grins back.
When Allison’s smile widens, Lydia feels the overwhelming urge to reach out. She wants to hug Allison, hold her hand, kiss her.
At that thought, Lydia freezes, and without thinking about it blows out the candle.
5
It’s been weeks since Lydia talked to Allison. The realization that she’s in love with her best friend had hit her hard. Not just because Allison is gone, but also because this feeling is new. She’d loved Jackson, but that love was hard and painful. She likes Jordan, and she’d thought that maybe she could like like him. She hadn’t felt anything but lust for her flings. When it comes to Allison everything feels softer, and warm. It feels like home.
Lydia hadn’t known what to do with it at first, but after a couple days she’d told Scott. He’d hugged her until she stopped crying. She’d asked him what to do. All Scott had wanted to know was if she would regret if she never told Allison.
That’s why she’s at Allison’s grave tonight. She figured that if she could tell the headstone, she can tell Allison. Turns out, telling a headstone is a lot easier.
Lydia puts the candle on top of the grave. There’s no wind, so she’s not afraid the candle will blow out. She doesn’t have long anyway. The last time they’d talked for so long the candle had almost burned down completely. They probably don’t have more than fifteen minutes.
With shaking hands, she lights the wick.
Allison appears almost immediately. She looks tense, the expression on her face uncertain. She looks more solid than ever before, and it make Lydia’s chest squeeze painfully.
‘What happened?’ Allison asks. She looks like she’s about to reach out, but then changes her mind.
‘I got scared,’ Lydia admits.
‘Of what? Are you afraid of me? You know it’s really me, right?’
‘I know.’
Allison doesn’t say anything more. She simply waits for Lydia to continue.
‘I love you,’ Lydia says. There is nothing else to say.
‘I love you, too.’
‘No,’ Lydia shakes her head. She looks Allison in the eye, desperate for her to understand. ‘I mean that-‘
‘I know. I love you too.’ The smile on Allison’s face is soft. ‘I’ve known for a while. I’m glad you know now, too.’
‘It hurts.’ Lydia can feel tears welling up. She’s always surprised she has any tears left.
Allison reaches out her hand, her palm facing up. Lydia places her own hand on top of it. She doesn’t feel anything, no pressure or change in temperature, but it still helps.
‘We won’t be able to talk again,’ Lydia admits. ‘The candle’s almost up, and Deaton doesn’t know where to find any more. He doesn’t even if there are any more.’
‘I love you, Lydia Martin.’
‘I love you, Allison Argent.’
They stay sitting there, their hands not really touching, until the flames sputters out and Allison fades.
Lydia doesn’t go home. She curls up next to Allison’s grave. She doesn’t cry. She simply lies there, one hand on her best friend’s grave, until she falls asleep.
+1
Lydia startles awake when she feels a hand on her shoulder. Her body is stiff from sleeping on the ground, and she groans softly when she turns her head to see who woke her. She expects to see the caretaker, or a cop, or even one of the pack. What she sees is a wide grin, dimpled cheeks, and bright brown eyes.
‘Allison?’ she croaks.
‘Were you hoping for someone else?’
‘Absolutely not.’
Lydia wants to throw her arms around Allison, but her limbs are too stiff. She groans, and Allison laughs. It’s so good to hear that laugh again. After Allison helps her sit up, Lydia immediately starts touching her, brushing her fingers over Allison’s face and through her hair, then skimming them down her arms. She needs to make sure that Allison is real.
‘I’m here,’ Allison says, grabbing her hands and tangling their fingers together. ‘This is real. I’m real.’
But Lydia still can’t believe it. She leans forward and presses their lips together. The warmth that spreads through her entire body, the way her heart slows to a steady beat, they assure her that Allison is right.
‘You’re real.’