Work Text:
Lydia is running. The pound of the pavement under her feet, sweat beading on her skin, breath coming in hard gasps, music blasting in her ears. One day she’ll be able to run and not stop.
One day.
Her route varies everyday – it’s no use being predictable, not when dealing with werewolves. That one of those werewolves is still in her head makes her furious. She can’t run from him and it’s killing her.
She’s run for over an hour by the time she gets home and flops on the front step. She fishes her iPod out of her bra – why is it that running clothes never have pockets? – and turns it off. Carefully, she takes off her shoes, checking for blisters and rubbing. The shoes are new and cut her feet. One day she won’t need to tape her feet.
One day.
She pushes the door open and her mother waves at her from the couch, phone tucked under her ear. She strips in the laundry and throws her clothes into the washing machine. Allison had tried to explain it once – the high one got from running – but until now Lydia could only understand it in a chemical fashion.
But now – oh, now – now she gets it.
*
The day Jackson leaves Lydia doesn’t cry.
She won’t cry. Not for him – not again. She’s had enough and throws herself further into the plan.
*
By the time school comes around, Lydia is in the best shape of her life and her plan is in full swing. She carries wolfsbane and pepper spray in her pockets and every afternoon she goes to self defence classes.
But the memory loss pulls at her. It’s not just that time she found the body. There are days she gets home from school not remembering ever having been.
One day she’ll be free of Peter Hale.
One day.
*
It happens quietly and without fuss. Three days later Peter Hale is found in pieces and Lydia buys a new dress. She walks to school, the sun lighting up her hair in a fiery blaze.
Happy, clear headed and free.