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[Teen Wolf] not anymore

Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: Troppo tardi
Parole: 506

not anymore


Over the mountain top she fell, rolling down, rolling down, like the earth was calling for her. There was no one to stop her, no one to see; there was no one to save her, no one to scream. She kept falling and falling again, tripping on stone, scorching and bruising and cutting her skin. The blood kept spilling behind her, with every roll and every fall there was more until a long path of her own blood she formed. She cried, she screamed, she called for help but no one was there. The world was empty and she was alone, everyone was gone, was gone, was gone far away and who could she call, and who could she scream to apart from herself?
The beast had been there and everywhere, and there was no one anymore, no one left.
The world was dead and she was too late.

Lydia woke up in Eichen House. She didn’t scream, she didn’t flitch, she didn’t move.
She was -oh- so very awake, so very lucid, yet there was nothing she could do, nothing she could say. Well of course she had plenty to say, but who was there to listen to her?
She wanted her mother, even though it was her who had sent her in that place – of course she didn’t know, how could she have? Lydia never told her anything, not that it was something easy to tell to anyone.
“I mom, I’m a banshee, please don’t blame my friends, also don’t send me to Eichen house, the place is a living hell”.
She would have never believed her; besides it wasn’t like her mother was that kind of person to simply accept her doing something so dangerous.
She wanted Stiles, and she could feel him through the air, over town, and he was so in danger yet so blatantly ignorant and disregarding of dangers. But he was Stiles after all and she wouldn’t have wanted him to be different.
She sang in her head, because her head was all she had in that moment and she was glad she was who she was. She was Lydia Martin, student, daughter, friend, member of Scott’s pack, bashee, harbinger of death, frail girl, martial artist, unbreakable.
She was Lydia Martin and Lydia didn’t break because breaking would have meant giving up and she hadn’t reach that point just to give up. She had the strength of a mountain and the will of fire, she had seen her best friend death and she was still alive. There had been already too many corpses and too many death for her to be one more, she was not going to give up.
For her mother, for Stiles, for Allison, for Aiden, even for Jackson. For everyone she had love, those still with her, those she had lost.
She was going to fight and she was going to fight everyone, because if there was one thing she couldn’t accept it was being too late. Not this time. No anymore. Not ever.

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