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Whatever you say

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Whatever you say

The joy over Scott and Allison being saved from the Saphpoa was tainted soon enough. It began shortly after Stiles had brought her home. As usual he came with her into her room, Lydia did not mind that but it alerted that there was something Stiles wanted to talk about. The last time it had been about her finding bodies, this time it was something that had bothered him.

Lydia had been the first Stiles had told about Peter and how this rescue mission had given him back the power of an alpha. As the Saphpoa had drained it away from Scott. Her first reaction was purely emotional, a shiver running down her back, her hand touching her side where Peter had left two deep gashes. Her instinct left no doubt that this was a bad turn of events.

Her logical side was wondering what exactly that would mean. Stiles had no answer to that either: It was uncharted territory. Peter’s motives were never clear and nobody could tell the degree to which he would abuse his powers. They worried he was going to turn more people into werewolves and also that he’d try and force Scott and Isaac to join with his pack. To be more precise they feared what Peter would do when they would refuse him, and there was no doubt that this was going to happen.

However, Stiles and Lydia were sure he wouldn’t go back on a killing spree. Unless Peter had a blood feud with someone else going on, everyone involved with the fire was dead. Stiles doubted that he was going after Allison or her father, unless they went after him first. Then it would be bloody murder. Stiles had yet to tell anyone else about the switch of Alpha status but Lydia agreed it was probably best to wait with the bad news until Scott and Allison were standing on their own two feet again.

Only that had not happened yet. Scott was recovering fine but Allison was not waking up. Chris Argent had brought his daughter to the hospital but none of the medical test could figure out what was wrong with her. Her brainwaves revealed that Allison was in a deep coma and there was no telling if she was ever going to wake up.

Allison’s father, Scott and Isaac were devastated and blamed Peter; it did not help that Deaton did not deny that Peter might have done something that made it harder for her to recover, but as always he was pretty vague. Stiles said he had not observed anything that gave them a clue about what Peter might have done. Lydia felt skeptical about him being responsible and Stiles agreed with her. It was in Peter’s best interest to have helped with saving Allison, he would not sabotage it.

Nobody could accuse either of them of liking Peter, it was a simple matter of Scott and Isaac not thinking it through - especially when their brain was set to Allison as Stiles called it. Scott was consumed by it worse than before. Lydia knew Stiles felt neglected by Scott because of it: in the past week Stiles had shown up twice to study for stuff he usually did with Scott. Because Scott was at the hospital ever since Stiles had decided to tell him. Scott had been very upset and vented his anger at Stiles.

Lydia thought it spoke volumes about how in touch Scott was with his inner wolf that he had not even noticed he was not an Alpha anymore. Him lurking around Allison had gotten even worse. Like he needed to be there every second. Of course, she hoped that Allison would wake up, too, but she also knew that sitting outside her room was not doing her any good. Instead, Lydia kept detailed notes on their classes, knowing knew if Allison woke up, she would hate to fail another year.

Beside that she had her own problems. With each passing day since Peter and Stiles had returned from the other side, she had slept a bit worse. It dawned upon her that the way she felt reminded her an awful lot about things had been when Peter. At the same time it was different, it did not affect her when she was awake. At the same time, she also could not remember her dreams clearly at the beginning.

It was like after her two day trip through the woods, things had calmed down for a while. It had still disturbed her, especially when she had started to smash mirrors and done other things her parents noticed. Since she was not sure what to tell Stiles, so she kept it to herself. He had enough to worry about and it might just be some residual effects from contact with the other world. Opening that door had seriously freaked her out.

Most of all she wanted to hide it from her parent, it was bad enough she had to talk to Ms Morrell once a month and while she now knew that she might not think she was crazy if told the truth, Lydia did not trust her. Even less than her brother. All this talk about keeping balance just reeked off throwing individuals under the bus in the pursuit of that.

It was the fifteenth day after their rescue mission when a terrible storm was rumoured to come to Beacon Hills. Lydia was celebrating it as they cancelled school that day and her guidance counselor appointment along with it. The wind was already pretty strong in the morning and with her parents out of town, she asked Stiles to come by and help her making sure all the windows and stuff were properly shut and secured. The sheriff was nice enough to drop Stiles off and mentioned that she could also come and stay with them.

A night all to herself was what she wanted, maybe that way she could figure out how big the problem really was. Not that she intended to do it like Jackson and record herself sleeping, but without alarms or parents waking her, she might just remember enough of her dreams. She could linger on in the moment.

“Are you really sure you want to stay here all by yourself?” Stiles asked her.

“I’m old enough,” she replied.

“That’s not what I meant,” Stiles said. "The power's likely going out - I mean, this is not the first freakish storm we've faced here in B-Hills so precedent says we're likely going to be thrust back pre-eighteenth century - and we could have some fun with that."

Lydia looked up sharply.

Stiles' eyes widened and he held up his hands. "Wow, no. You have got a laundry list of men after you and, honestly, there's not one dude on it whose company I want to be in. I was thinking flashlights and horror stories. You're taking my PG thoughts and making them NC-17 and that's just not fair. Considering I so rarely have PG thoughts amongst all the NC-17 running through my head, I totally deserve points for the times they do happen.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. With all the real life horror they faced she could not believe he was actually suggesting that. It was Stiles, why was she surprised, just as she was ready to believe the reason why he asked her in the first place. “Don’t tell me Scott intends to camp out at the hospital?”

“"Probably," Stiles shrugged. "Does it seem like a bad idea that's likely to end with him injured in some way? Then, yeah, you can bet Scott's going to be there. I love the guy, but he's got a bit of a martyr complex. He should leave that kind of work to Derek, dude's perfected the act."

He paused, seeming to notice Lydia was still staring at him, lips pursed.

He nodded once, knowingly. "You think I'm using you as some kind of substitute?" He shrugged easily.

"Because I kind of thought we were friends. Friends who do things like have sleepovers. I know you don't have a lot of experience with this - hanging out with someone who isn't looking for you to boost their social status, but this is definitely a step in the right direction.”

Oddly, enough she nodded. It was weird last summer she wouldn’t have dreamt about being friends with someone like him and now she wondered why she hadn’t been. “That doesn’t mean, I want to do the same things Scott and you liked doing.”

"Really? You mean you don't want to play Call of Duty until three a.m. in your underwear while stuffing your face with Cheez-Its? Shocking," he said, deadpan. He shook off the heavy cloak of sarcasm and looked at Lydia seriously. "This isn't a wash, rinse, repeat imitation of Scott's and my epic brohood. I don't expect you to like the same things, and I'm up for whatever." He paused tightening the lock on the upstairs window and pulled a face. "I do totally draw the line at everything Nicholas Sparks has ever touched though. That man's not well.”

Then they heard his father honk the horn outside and Lydia looked at Stiles, feeling slightly guilty for not being in the mood to do friend stuff. She knew how bad it was when nobody seemed to have time for her. But she realised the real problem was she liked Stiles too much and if she stuck around she would eventually tell him what bothered her. Then he would worry and try to figure things out. Instead she said: “Thanks for helping me but not tonight, I just want to turn in early and enjoy that we got an extra long weekend.”

“Lydia, if you’re turning in early on a long weekend, you’re sort of missing the point.”

“You only say that because you have no idea what I’m doing after turning in or how long I plan on sleeping in,” she told him with a purposefully suggestive intonation and watched as his chin dropped.

Stiles did not need to know that she was feeling to tired and exhausted to masturbate, although she realised she probably would benefit from some release. Unlike most people she did not need to study that hard to pass the midterms but her sleepwalking was worrying her to much. Because of that Lydia had not felt up to cruising for a suitable distraction now that Aidan had left her. Technically, he had not dumped her. First off, they were not really together-together and he had said they would get back to her. Yet, he had not even left her a number or bothered to call. Very much like someone else, Lydia thought bitterly.

“Well, in that case, I wish you a very pleasant night,” Stiles said and turned, giving her a low bow and pretending to sweep out coattails behind him like the dapperest of gentlemen. Lydia watched him walk out onto her porch, pausing above the stairs and rolling his shoulders. She could've sworn she heard him say, "Shake it off, buddy. Shake it off."

Smiling she closed the door, being pretty sure she knew what Stiles was going to do tonight. Lydia warmed up a bit of the catering from yesterday’s dinner to eat, before she went upstairs to brush her teeth, shower and do her daily pre-sleep beauty routine. If things became worse she would neglect that soon enough. Slipping into her nightgown, Lydia crawled into bed, where it took her less than a minute to fall asleep.

Shivering and feeling cold and wet, Lydia woke up. Her nightgown was flattering around her in the storm, despite it being as wet as if she had just washed it. It was so dark around her that she could only make out the silhouettes of the trees and some light spots around her. Lydia was not sure if she was dreaming or sleepwalking but she felt exhausted and her feet hurt. As she looked down she saw that she was barefoot, her pale feet being a stark contrast to the black ground around her.

Once more she had been sleepwalking into the forest. Soaking, the wet fabric felt ice cold against her body and Lydia realised the danger she was in. Pneumonia being the least of her concerns with the storm so strong that it bend the trees with an alarming ferocity. She heard thunder clap and then lightning struck. This was not a night to be stuck in the middle of the woods. At least with the sudden burst of light, she could see more of her surrounding: if only for a brief moment.

It was enough to spot the an old tire track and to recognise the trees around her. Her heart beat a lot faster: She was close to the Nemeton. Lydia looked around horrified how far she had walked. Then she strode towards what she hoped was the road. But when she walked faster she jabbed her toes on a tree root she could not see in the dark. Groaning more frustration than pain, she tried to go on. The truth was she was exhausted, tired and as cold as when Deaton had stuck her into that ice bath. Lydia hated the woods and she hated that again she was subjected to walking around without having any control over it. Despite the danger she leaned against a tree trunk. She was crying, it felt like all she could do at the moment, just letting it all out. She had every intention to keep on walking afterwards.

Instead she must have fallen asleep and the next thing she became aware off was someone carrying her. Lydia need not look up to know who it was, she just knew it was Peter. It was not just that she felt too tired to fight or protest, her body felt bruised in various places and her ankle throbbed in pain. Lydia found herself hoping that maybe she was in her bed at home after all. Since she could not do anything useful, she just closed her eyes again.

When Lydia woke up, she immediately realised she was not in her bed. Yet, she was not wet or cold but naked and warm: warm because a warm very male body was pressed against her in the confines of a two-person sleeping bag. Peter was also naked, while he was not fully erect she did felt this slight bulge pressing against backside.

One reason why she was keeping still, there was no reason to struggle and twist and set things in motion. As long as his arm was wrapped around her and she hadn’t figured out how to get out of the sleeping back she was not getting far anyway. Of course him being pressed against her back meant she had not seen his face but there was no doubt in her mind that it was Peter.

For once, she couldn’t think of any other person who could both be so inappropriate and yet so considerate. She was dry and no longer cold, even her soaked hair was now only slightly wet and carefully tucked into a towel. Lydia felt safe and comfortable, apart from the knowledge who was beside her.

“Moving straight from slightly rapey to completely inappropriate behaviour?” Lydia asked, even thought it was more statement - but she wanted to know what he would say or do. His first reaction seemed to be a smile, there was this noise that sounded like a suppressed laughter.

“I could hardly leave you passed out in the woods or leave you in that ice-cold, wet gown,” Peter told her.

His voice was so calm and collected and yet he was so close to her ear that she felt a slight shiver.

“Since when? You had no problems leaving me for dead before?” Lydia suspected that of course in this case she was no use to him dead. Those dreams could only mean he wanted something from her and that something she would not like doing.

“Actually, I didn’t knew you’d be immune until after the bite - so leaving you there, would’ve been better for you. You would have healed and nobody who might ask strange questions would have known,” Peter explained.

Lydia sighed he always had a reason why what he was doing was somewhat justified. Only she wasn’t buying it. “After you found out it did not occur to you, that I might actually die.”

“I admit, I was a bit inflexible,” Peter admitted, sounding a bit like it was a gracious confession he should be applauded for. Lydia sighed and he added: “Derek was in the hand of the enemy, so I didn’t want to waste time, I was fairly convinced you’d make it. I know it seems a bit unnecessarily careless in hindsight. I think I’m doing much better.”

It served her right for expecting the slightest bit of guilt over that from him, Lydia thought. Truth was she was way more concerned about what was going on now. He had to be the one to have lured her out in her sleep in the storm. Who else would be so careless with her life and health and sanity?

“Trust me, poking your erection in my backside does not fall under the label of doing much better,” Lydia began and was ready to explain it was just one tad better than almost killing her or tormenting her through her dreams.

“If you call that an erection,” Peter said amused, “then you must have lowered your standards significantly after Jackson.”

Bringing up that Jackson had dumped her again was certainly not endearing Peter to her, but it was probably useless pointing that out. Even if she cared about that, which she was sure she shouldn’t. So instead she turned so she was lying on her back and stared up at the ceiling. At that point she realised she was in the boy’s locker room at Beacon Hills High school. The faint light that allowed her to see came from a light in the back or the infrequent lightning strikes.

“If we go by that, then my standards have been going up,” Lydia pointed out, not even sure why she engaged in this line of discussion.

Peter let his hand slowly wander over her belly but then he followed her example. For just a moment, Lydia felt relieved when the poking stopped. Of course, a few seconds later that feeling went out of the window.

“So,” Peter said sounding almost serious, “just in theory, I would qualify for the next step up.”

Lydia did not care if he was just teasing or serious. In any other case, she might have asked for clarification. Under these circumstances and with Peter the person in question, she was really not interested in keeping this fake flirting up. She needed to know what he wanted from her, then Lydia could wonder if she was going to comply or if she would try to find a way to stop him from doing that to her.

“Stop it,” she told him and turned her head to look at him.

“I’m not doing anything,” Peter replied.

He obviously had his hands folded over his waist and was literally just lying there. Part of her wanted to tell him that he knew very well what she was referring, but she wanted to be crystal clear on the matter.

“I’m not talking about the groping,” Lydia said firmly, “I’m talking about the dreams.”

It seemed that her directness surprised Peter, who went on to act as if he had no idea what she was talking about. “What dreams?”

“The one’s that make me sleepwalk through in the woods,” she said trying very much not to break out in tears. “You might remember sending them to me when you wanted me to bring you back from the dead.”

Acting as if he just remembered, he dared to smirk at her and then took her hand. Lydia wanted to draw it back but Peter wouldn’t let her. He held on and moved it until it rested over his chest. “As you can feel I’m quite alive and quite real.”

Lydia had not really thought he had died again, everything about this situation was feeling real even before she felt his heart beat strong against his chest. It was almost as if it beat directly against her palm. It was creepy and luckily this time she was allowed to take her hand back.

“So you obviously want something else,” Lydia said bitterly as she felt her eyes tear up. Even though she believed he probably was not caring at all, she just had to ask. “Please, just tell me what this is about, I can’t go through this again.”

Peter turned to his side again, she could not help but shiver a bit. At this point a particular nasty wind blew outside that seemingly wanted to knock in the windows. She did not like this weather, the last time they had a storm this bad had been the night Miss Blake had taken Scott’s mother and even then it had calmed down much sooner.

Stroking over her cheek and brushing a few tears away that had already found their way there, Peter said: “If I needed you to do something for me, I would not bother with unclear dream messages, Lydia. Believe me, I’m much more persuasive in person.”

The last thing she wanted was to get a total neurotic breakdown and start crying, especially since she had no tissues in sight and wasn’t feeling particularly confident about going to the nearby toilets of the boy’s locker room to substitute toilet paper for tissues. She still felt a bit insecure about being seen without make-up. Lydia told herself in this company it absolutely did not matter, that is should not matter at all, but she had spend most of her teenage years with looking perfect and that habit wasn’t easy to get rid off.

“Given my experience with this, maybe if you let me, I could help you figure out who or what is causing these dreams,” Peter suggested in a rather serious tone.

Lydia was not sure if she should accept help from him. If she even should believe he had nothing to do with it. What he said made sense, it would be easier for him to talk to her directly. Scott was not going to stop him, nor was Isaac, both were too occupied with Allison at the moment. Not to mention Peter was an alpha again and they might be willing to help - after all Scott had stopped Derek and his pack from killing her once. In this scenario she was very doubtful.

There was this feeling that Peter still might go this route to show her that she was not safe and Lydia was not entirely convinced that he might not enjoy doing this to her. When she looked at him, he did not seem like he was, just as he did not showed any signs that he did felt sorry for what she was going through.

“Why would you help me?” Lydia wondered.

Whenever he had helped someone, it was mostly to help himself. The way Peter had behaved so far, especially on this stormy night, Lydia almost expected some outrageous demands. She would not put it past him to demand anything from sex to spying on her friends and maybe doing something she had not been aware she could do.

Instead Peter just shrugged and said: “I like you and you brought me back from the dead, I think I owe you for that.”

Lydia could not argue with that. “That would be the understatement.”

He might owe her but Lydia knew that if Peter actually helped her, he would somehow benefit from it. That was if he wasn’t playing mind games and was in reality the person who sent those dreams. Lydia would not put it past him, but she also knew it did not help if she did not pursued other avenues just because Peter seemed like the most plausible explanation to her. That would make her just as close minded as Scott was.

Despite them being stuck in the sleeping back together, there was no actual contact after Peter had withdrawn his hand again. The confines of the sleeping bag only allowed for an inch or maybe two between them but he did keep that distance. Lydia was grateful for that, but at the same time, his body heat seemed to tease and invite her back. Her cheeks made it obvious that the locker room was not heated.

“You know,” Peter said after a moment, “I did stay away - just as you asked me to - but I could so much more in person to pay you back.”

“Thanks you did plenty to me in person already,” Lydia said back, wondering why her mind immediately had jumped to him talking about sex again. At least, her mind was able to bring the topic back to what she had wanted to say back when she had first seen Peter again that time when Stiles had sent her to Derek.

Lydia’s hand went to the scar on her side. It did not look nearly as bad as anymore and her parents had talked to a surgeon to do something about the scarring but Lydia had not agreed to the operation yet. It was strange, part of her hated it and another one wanted to keep it. Maybe it was to remind her that she was survivor, but she had to figure that out by herself.

Meanwhile the storm was knocking something against the side of the building and the noise made her flinch and thus brush against Peter in the process. She needed to get out of this bag. “Where’s my nightgown? And why are we in the boy’s locker room?” Lydia asked upset and determined to keep her distance.

“Downstairs in the boiler room, I hung up our clothes there as it warm - but unfortunately also rather uncomfortable and dirty,” Peter told her.

Looking around Lydia realised that she could not see his clothes either. There had to be a lot more as she doubted he was running around the woods half naked in this weather. There was not even the sign of underwear, which made her ask in disbelief: “Are you telling, me you walked around naked school?”

He smirked: “Actually, yes.”

Then he laughed and she did as well. This was too absurd, given how many of her ordinary nightmares revolved around standing in class naked and the whole image was just too absurd. It did not take long to calm down, after all she was stuck at night in school with one of the most dangerous persons in Beacon Hills.

“Isn’t there anything else to wear?” Lydia wondered. “How come we’re in a sleeping bag?”

“You were ice-cold and mostly unconscious,” Peter shrugged, “I knew the coach had spare sleeping bags for those annoying parent/student camping trips. I just picked the biggest one.”

Sharing body heat was probably the most efficient way to have gotten her warm under the circumstances. Lydia noticed her decision between wanting to get out of this bag and moving closer to the heat that Peter’s body offered was flip-flopping from one moment to the other. Whatever Peter had done to her tonight, going out in that storm was being suicidal. Even with her nightgown she would be cold outside the bag.

“You think our clothes are dry by now? How long was I out?” Lydia tried to stay focused.

“You’ve been out maybe two hours. Yours is pretty thin, but it will take a couple more hours,” Peter thought out loud and then suggested, “I gather we’re probably stuck here to the early morning, maybe longer with this storm,” he shrugged, “who knows? I could break open a few of the boy’s locker and see if there is anything to wear.”

Unzipping the bag, Lydia felt the cool air brush against her exposed skin. This and not wanting Peter to break open the doors made her reach out and stop him from opening the bag more. Feeling the back of his warm hands, Lydia made a decision. It did not matter what Peter wanted from her, if he had lured her here. What mattered what was she wanted. Lydia wanted to be warm.

“Close it,” Lydia told him.

Peter was obliging her instantly, smiling the whole time. “Still feeling cold?” he asked with what might have passed for genuine concern if Lydia did not knew him better than that.

She sighed. “Since we’re stuck here, we might as well keep each other warm.”

“Would you prefer to lie against my back then?” Peter offered much to her surprise.

Lydia thought about it, she still did not trust him but she felt significantly less anxious about feeling his cock in a mild state of arousal against her backside. Having that also meant he could wrap himself around her rather small figure and thus keep her that much warmer. There was still the question if he could behave himself.

“That depends,” Lydia looked at him, chin raised, just to show that she wouldn't be embarrassed or intimidated. “I don’t sleep well if I'm being poked all night so be sure to keep that to an acceptable level of arousal."

Peter laughed again and before she could say much of anything, he moved his arms and around her. Lydia found her head resting comfortably on one arm while the other was around her waist, pressing her back tightly against his chest. “I hope this is acceptable?”

“We’ll see,” Lydia smirked and then added: “I’m pretty sure I can make myself heard if that changes.”

Her banshee scream certainly was very painful to werewolves and she pretty sure it would be a boner killer, especially with her being so close to his ears.

“Don’t worry, Lydia,” Peter said sounding amused despite the threat, “I won’t have sex with you - unless you actually convince me, that you really want me to.”

‘That won’t happen’, was her first thought but she did not say it out loud. With him Lydia was never sure about anything and for some reason it happened, then she did not want to have him gloat about her acting as if this was completely impossible. For that she had to deny that she had been thinking about it. It was never her first thought but it kept creeping up on her.

Tonight it had occurred to her that her constantly coming up with Peter asking sexual favours came from her own desire for sex. It had been so long and him bringing up that image of Aiden’s nicely sized cock was not helping to get her mind of it. He did felt large against her, even just slightly aroused she had felt quite impressed by it.

Luckily, the first time she had thought about it had been when he had appeared only in her mind and she has begrudgingly realised that this annoying teen that kept barging into her private sphere was actually making her feel that maybe there could be a deeper connection with someone. However strongly she had felt about Jackson, it had been surface dressing. What they shared at been so superficial that she often could not believe how much losing him had hurt. He had been a jerk that only cared about himself, as long as she made him feel good about him, Jackson had cared about her. When he felt he did not need her, he just dropped her.

Even though Peter had just played with her, Lydia could not deny that for a moment there she had trusted him and felt more connected with him than she had done with anyone before. Which was part of the reason she was so mad at him. Because he had flipped almost everything she had believed about what she wanted from a relationship on its head.

With Jackson she had mainly sex to please him and to keep his tiny ego inflated. After all he was perfect for her. The richest, hottest boy in school, initially the sole captain of the Lacrosse team, it had seemed like he was made for her. Her parents had been so excited about it, because they were all about appearances and together with being afraid of letting people see her true self, Lydia had totally lost herself in all the faking.

Then Peter burst into her life and he appeared to be some weird guy, while not exactly bad looking, was neither rich nor popular, yet all she had been thinking about around him had been sex. Not because she felt like she needed to, but because she really wanted to. That had been one of the good things that came out of it. She started to have sex more because she wanted to enjoy herself and demanded of the guys she picked to pay attention to her.

Finding out the truth about who she had been talking to while waiting for her useless therapy to begin had then of course been crushing. Yet, Lydia felt she could have been more adversely affected by all of this. As long as she did not had any dreams she felt mostly fine and not the doing great she lied to about Ms Morrell either. Lydia felt stronger and more confident most of the time.

It was just her Banshee abilities that scared her now, those and to some degree Peter. It was not outright terror she felt, even though Lydia figured she probably should. Even though Stiles used to talk about him as if he was just a mindless killer, they both realised that everything he did was purpose oriented. Coming back from the dead had left him being more careful, the question was if he was going to keep it up now that he was an Alpha again.

“I can tell you’re still awake,” Peter interrupted her thoughts.

“Wasn’t pretending to be,” Lydia said and yawned, she still felt exhausted. “I wish I could sleep.”

“I promise, I keep you from sleep walking naked through the school,” Peter helpfully offered..

Lydia wondered if that was part of the aid he offered. Objectively this was a lot better than walking through a storm or even walking barefoot through the forest on a better day. She wanted more help than that.

“How can I figure out the dreams, when I can’t remember anything about them?” Lydia wondered and then she added: “What if I’m not willing to do whatever that person wants me to do?”

“If you have dream, chances are waking you up from it, you might remember more,” Peter told her while tugging some of her hair behind her ear. “There might be a way to stop that person, but we need to know who it is. If they don’t know what they are doing, you might not be able to recognize them.”

“Who could it be? Can anyone do this now?”

That was the real question, if it was not Peter who after all had bitten her and she had assumed that was the basis for him being able to spook around in her consciousness, then was she just a huge spiritual switchboard that everyone would be able to use now that they had opened the door? It all seemed to boil down to Peter really screwing her over.

“I’m afraid, being a banshee will bring you to the attention of a lot of people, but with a proper pack to look out for you,” Peter ran his hand over her belly, “learning to control your abilities, you won’t continue to have his type of problem.”

“That is comforting, since I can’t control my abilities one bit and Scott no longer being an alpha that option also falls flat,” Lydia scoffed.

“I’m sure Stiles told you that i’m back in form, besides, neither Scott or Derek have been able to build a proper pack, so far.”

Peter might be right about that, there had been too much going on and there was too little time for proper bonds to form, but he seemed to forget something else. “Neither have you.”

Lydia heard an exasperated sigh, before he was replying to her comment. “Circumstances had conspired against me, but trust me, I will have a proper pack in time. Your friends would do well to accept me - but even if they don’t - I’ll find others who do.”

They had expected he would but she had the feeling he was not yet looking to turn more people: Why Peter would think that Scott or Isaac would ever accept him as their alpha was beyond her. Then again, who would have thought they ever work together with him? That Derek would get over him killing his sister and turn to him for advice. Or them just letting Deucalion walk away, clearly letting if you were a deranged killer you had some leeway for some reason, at least if you happened to be a man.

“Good luck with that,” Lydia said, sarcasm dripping from her voice, “Scott is a hundred twenty percent sure that you’re responsible for Allison’s coma and of course Isaac goes with whatever Scott says.”

“Scott can be both at his most brilliant and most idiotic where Allison is concerned,” Peter was clearly amused by that. “Honestly, once I thought he might be somewhat useful, but now …”

Lydia let out a sharp breath. Neither Scott nor Isaac would really count as her friends, as a larger group, they certainly would count but as individuals, there was only Stiles with Allison in the coma. Stiles had mentioned before that Peter had once offered the bite to him.

“Don’t worry,” Peter said sounding so very patronizing, “I intend to ask, I took enough chances with Scott. I’d like to think that I can pick better candidates.”

“What if they say ‘No’?” Lydia worried.

Amused he whispered, leaning closer to her. “Then I’ll wait until they say ‘Yes’.”

There it was again, the rapey language. Asking until a person changed their mind from No to Yes, sounded incredibly fucked up. Not that people could not change their mind but somehow Lydia had the feeling that Peter wasn’t going to ask one year and then after meeting the person again fifteen month later would inquire if they had a change of heart. He would come back week after week and make sure the person would change their mind.

That person was probably going to be Stiles. Whatever had happened when they had gone after the Saphpoa had obviously renewed Peter’s interest in him. Lydia had noticed that Stiles’ attitude to Peter had changed but she doubted that it was enough for Stiles to want to hang out with Peter let alone become a member of his pack.

Spending Peter had always been strange. Even before she knew what was going on and he had left her mind in flurry of emotions: longing, annoyance and arousal. Lydia had never been sure if she wanted to slap or kiss him. Unlike Allison she was not the violent type, so she eventually went for the kissing part. Peter had made that decision for her but at this point, Lydia had been glad about that.

“If you’re afraid, I intend to go after your friend, then don’t be,” Peter explained. “It is a bit poetic though and I do enjoy that a great deal. Unless her father does something stupid, like going after me, he has nothing to fear from me. It is way more fun to have him get a feeling what it is like to lose everything that matters to him.”

Lydia also understood why the other believed he had something to do with Allison’s coma: it was the perfect revenge. She still believed it was a bit too perfect and that he would be more careful if he really had something to do with it. Until he had pack, he would probably stick to being careful and turning both the Argents and Scott and Isaac against him by going after Allison was certainly not a mistake he would make twice. The real question was what would happen if he was no longer alone against everyone.

At this point it was hard to tell and there was also a more pressing issue demanding attention from Lydia.

“I need to go,” she told Peter, who made a little surprised noise.

“Here, I thought women being of two minds was just a bad stereotype,” he replied as he withdrew his arm around her. “Was it too unreasonable to point out that I will defend myself if provoked?”

“No,” Lydia turned, “but I need to go.”

Understanding what she meant, Peter laughed and unzipped the bag. “Oh, yes of course.”

As he flung part of it open to allow her to emerge, something fell out of an open pocket. Lydia reached for it and saw that it was a four pack of condoms, all strung together by an easy to tear separation line. “Yours?”, she held them out to Peter with an accusing tone.

“I figured the heat downstairs is not good for them, so I brought them upstairs,” he said as if this was nothing, but when he saw her frown, Peter added quickly: “Not what you think, I recently was convinced it was better to come prepared at all times.”

Dropping the condoms, Lydia pushed herself out of the warm surroundings of the sleeping bag and shivered in the cool locker room air. Without bothering to reply, she hurried to the restrooms and peed as quickly as possible. If someone ever told her, she would long to be close to Peter, she would have thought them crazy.

The air around her cooling her down, Lydia listened to the storm raging outside. She did miss his warmth all around her. When she was done she hurried to the basin and washed her hands, taking off the towel from her head to dry them. The water had been so cold that even though the towel was a bit damp, she excessively dried them with it. Looking in the mirror she briefly paused in shock when she noticed the large bruise on her shoulder. In a quick move she let her hair fall over it.

Looking down she saw that she had a few other forming on her body, her ankle was still hurting but she kept ignoring it as good as she could. It was obviously not sprained more like she had hit her ankle against a hard surface. Finally, she looked at the gashes in her side, before she abruptly turned and headed back to the locker room. Waiting for her, Peter opened the flap that he had wrapped around him and Lydia eagerly slipped back inside the warm confines of the sleeping bag.

Brushing against his warm body she noticed just how cold she had become in those few minutes. Her jaw trembled and it was only when her hard nipples pressed against Peter’s chest Lydia became aware that she had moved in with the wrong side facing him.

“You’re cold,” Peter stated the obvious, but he did sound genuinely concerned. Both arms closed around her and he used them to rub over her back, warming her up in the process.

Lydia was grateful and eagerly pressed herself against him, wondering if that was part of the werewolf metabolism that he felt almost hot against her. She was getting warmed up but the side effect on Peter was also that now she felt him growing hard against her thighs. Looking at him startled, she felt him stopping his movements just as she had hers.

“Ignoring it is out of the question?” Peter said amused.

Lydia just had to laugh at that question, there was something totally unacceptable about his tone and demeanour. He knew very well that this was unacceptable however unavoidable given that she practically had pressed herself against him and moved her legs closer to his. She still wanted to get closer to feel warm and comfortable. Feeling the growing erection poke again her thigh she said: “Totally out of the question.”

“Want me to get a cold shower?” he said not sounding like he actually considered it.

Peter had to know she relied on him as her source of heat. Even though he seemed to take some delight in making her uncomfortable, Lydia was not actually mad. Because she was not uncomfortable anymore, she realised that she needed to get laid anyway. With all this she had no time to look for a distraction, but there she had been given one.

They might at best be uncertain allies and after all he had done to her having sex seemed the wrong thing to do. Only this was not about what Peter would get out of it, it was what she wanted. She had always been attracted to him, she wanted to feel an actual penis inside her, from what she could tell, Peter had to offer a lot.

“No,” Lydia replied and shook her head while pressing herself closer, “I’ve changed my mind.”

It seemed she had confused him properly, as he looked at her somewhat puzzled. “About what?”

Maybe he was just surprised and wanted confirmation and she had no problem to clarify. Her lips were practically an inch away from his when she said: “About having sex - unless you do prefer a cold shower.”

Thinking she had given enough advance warning, she kissed him not really caring what he thought about her change of attitude. After all, she never pretended to be a nun and Peter was as far from being a saint as one could get so that worked out quite nicely. There was no protest, maybe a moments hesitation before Peter opened his lips and she felt his tongue brush against hers.

His hands moved from her back down to her butt. While she was not exactly cold anymore, she enjoyed the touch of his warm hands. Logistics were a bit difficult since they had just limited space available. With her size and both of them somewhat agile, she did manage to climb on top of him.

Their kissing stopped and Peter asked her curious: “Not that I’m complaining but did you maybe get possessed in the restroom?”

“As if you’d have a problem with that”, Lydia replied straddling him while also rubbing herself against him with slow circular motions. She was half lying and half sitting as the bag did not allow her that much freedom but she could feel how hard he had become. While she was aroused she was far from being ready.

“That does sound like you,” Peter admitted and moved one hand to stroke over her side, where his bite had marked her.

Lydia flinched, but the reminder of just how dangerous Peter was also made this a lot more exciting. It was not like she hadn’t done it with a serial killer before. The major difference was that when his other hand moved between her legs, it became obvious that Peter knew what to do with a woman’s body. Young boys were kind of her thing but this make her rethink that there maybe was a lot more to someone with actual experience.

He was in good shape, Lydia’s hands enjoyed exploring the well muscled body even though the stupid grin on his faced seemed to call more for a slap. Instead she worked her fingernails into those ripped abs and got him to flinch for a change. Leaning down she started to kiss his neck, which was far less scrawny than Aiden’s. Not that she would call Aiden scrawny but Peter definitely had more muscle mass. Lydia continued to run her fingers over his body until she had reached his shoulders.

Uttering pleased soft groans, his touch made her feel even hornier and she sighed with delight when she felt one of his fingers entering her. He wanted to say something but she stopped him by biting into his well defined neck. Not harshly but certainly more careless than she did with Jackson who always complained about her roughing him up. He could take it, they all could, but it seemed Peter was the only one who actually liked it.

“You know, you’d have made a great werewolf,” he said interrupted by moans.

His hand not currently occupied with finger fucking her was reaching into her hair, pulling her closer to him. Lydia gasped when she felt three fingers instead of the one moving inside her. Unable to move her head she moaned resting partially on his shoulder, when he turned tables and began sucking on her neck.

Her moans got louder and with new determination she reached outside the sleeping bag to grab the condoms she had dropped earlier. Taking one, she unwrapped it and then shifted to put it where it belonged. Which was a real challenge as Peter had let go off that spot on her neck but was now doing the same to the spot where her neck and shoulder met. It felt like she might need to ask her mother after all how to cover up, as this might be hard to explain to her friends.

For now she was moving her legs to one side, so her body was not blocking the way and she could wrap her hand around his erection. Since the move had made him stop using his fingers, Lydia was anxious to replace them. He kept rubbing against her clit but that was as far as his arms reached.

Lydia had moved low enough after he stopped sucking on her neck that she could put the condom over the head before she slowly rolled it down. Amazed at how easily it stretched over the sizeable erection, she savoured the sounds Peter made. Lydia had always been fascinated by the various reaction she could elicit from her sex partners. That was a part she had always enjoyed, even when she had been more into the sex for fear of losing Jackson than for the fun of it.

“Be glad I’m not, or you wouldn’t be able to keep up with me,” Lydia teased back.

Moaning under the touch of her hand Peter nonetheless found a moment to reply. “Maybe it’s a bit early to make such assumptions.”

His confidence was grating as she had often found that men were all talk but did very little to follow through. Nonetheless, she was willing to be proven wrong. There was this need that had become stronger with each moment that she stroked him and felt the latex covered erection. Lydia was eager to feel it inside her. Touching herself she felt how wet and ready she had become and with some skill she managed to shift herself in a position over the hard cock.

The fabric of the sleeping bag was stretched over her butt as she moved to a position where the tip of Peter’s dick brushed against her entrance. Using her fingers she spread herself a bit before moving down onto the head.

With her working towards the penetration, Peter was occupying his hands with fondling her breast but he also stopped more than once to run his hands over her side, especially over those scars. It was almost as if he wanted to remind her that she belonged to him. Lydia was not really sure if this was something she should encourage but right now, she rather not break lose an argument.

Instead she slowly lowered herself onto him, making a noise close to purring when she felt the large penis head slip inside, allowing her to glide down on the shaft. At this moment she was only interested in enjoying the sensation of having her insides stretched. Her short moans and shallow breath ended in a satisfied groan when she finally sat on top of Peter; his penis buried fully inside her.

Leaning forward, Lydia pressed her breast against his chest to soak up the heat and return to kissing his neck. The movement changed the angle of his cock, and she could feel the pressure shifting inside her. Peter used that moment to move his hands from her chest to her butt, grabbing both cheeks firmly.

When she lifted her hips he supported her movement but Lydia had to admit with the bag limiting her range it was not quite as easy. Not being used to something that big the sensation - while extremely pleasant - was also preventing her from riding him at the speed she liked to. There was something about the teasing feel that came from doing this slowly, but Lydia could tell it was not just her who wanted to speed this up.

Kissing along her neck side which sent shivers down her skin all on its own, Peter moved closer to her ear with his mouth and whispered. “Let us test your assumptions a bit,” he suggested.

Lydia knew it was more of a hint about him taking charge and she did not mind that. She had sex with werewolves before and being the girl she had never had problems keeping up with her werewolf lovers. After all she could come several times without any sort of refraction period.

“I can hardly wait,” she said back, managing to sound quite unimpressed despite enjoying herself a lot.

Peter just smirked which she could just briefly make out before she felt his fingers digging even deeper into her firm butt pressing her tightly against his hips. Then he rolled over and Lydia found herself pinned to the ground by his weight. Peter rocked his hips against her and she felt as if he moved even deeper into her than before.

While he was adjusting to the new position his hands moved up: one arm wrapping itself around her waist and the other around her back with the hand holding onto her shoulder. Now Lydia smirked as her hands and thus fingernails had free range of Peter’s back. Being a werewolf she would not leave streaks behind, like she had with Jackson before all this started, but that was a minor distractor.

Her nails digging into his back made Peter grin widely, which Lydia felt as he pressed his face against her neck. Instead of retaliating by leaving another love bite on it, he began moving inside her. It did not took him long to find a good rhythm before he began to pick up the pace. Even without reaching an actual orgasm, Lydia had always enjoyed the feeling of penetration: being full. So this already heading into the right direction.

On this stormy night, it was soon leaving her breathless. She was even unable to reach down and give herself the stimulation she usually needed to climax, nor was she finding the voice to demand it. This was different in another way: Both Jackson and Aiden had always treated her a bit like a fragile doll, even when she had mentioned that she was not made out of sugar. They both had been afraid that they might wolf out or that they could hurt her with their superior strength.

Clearly a concern Peter didn’t share and he had no problems keeping his werewolf nature under wraps. The roughness did not put her off, it enticed her and much to her surprise she felt so stimulated by it that she suddenly was overcome by an intense orgasm. While she would hardly describe the noise she made as a scream, she was past groaning. The sex did not stop there.

Whether it was just about proving his point that Lydia was not going to be on par with him or if he just wanted to impress her, Peter kept going. The storm outside was no less intense and yet it had become no more than a background noise as her ears were filled with sounds of her own groans and Peter grunting. Lydia was still riding on that peak when the overwhelming sensation of another orgasm came over her.

Had she room to move her legs, she probably would have tried to wrap her legs around him. Which would probably not have made him pause, it would have been a reaction to that total need to draw him in deeper feeling him fill her while her body adjusted to the intense pleasure. Peter was only resting for a few split seconds and Lydia suspected that it was to hold himself back for another round. The ongoing friction was literally driving her out of her mind and all she could feel was pleasure.

Lydia was vaguely aware that she said something but admit the grunting and her little screams and gasps, she could not tell. It was only after Peter stopped and pressed himself against, she was taking note of her surroundings again. They both were panting and covered in sweat, Lydia felt her throat hurting from all the noises she had made. Maybe walking barefoot through the storm had helped that along as well.

Peter looked very pleased and even after he pulled out he was kept lying partially on top of her. At first Lydia was stunned by just how sweaty his back was but when another round of lightning struck, she saw that the liquid on her fingers was dark. Seeing her shocked expression, Peter said amused: “I’ve always had a thing for women with sharp nails.”

“That was,” Lydia replied and stopped for a moment to not use the phrase incredible or awesome, “excessive.”

Leaving it open whether she referred to her finger nails covered with blood or the sex. Not that she had a chance downplaying that, she was still feeling incredible soaked up with endorphin. Lydia hardly felt the pain in her shoulder and her ankle, even her neck was feeling fine and the ache between her legs was gratifying.

“I told you I could do more in person,” Peter intruded on her bliss.

The reminder of their unpleasant history together disturbed her for a short moment, knowing full well that sleeping with him was like rewarding him for his bad behaviour. At the same time, Lydia refused to make this dependent on him. This had been mind-blowing good sex, she was feeling more than warm and comfortable, that was what mattered to her.

Despite this Lydia was still not convinced that Peter was not behind her sleepwalking again, but she was going to find out. “This tells me literally nothing about your abilities to help with my dream problems.”

“I could come over and keep you from going anywhere,” Peter suggested.

Lydia had counted on that, it was one way to discover his involvement in her current dream problem and also a good opportunity to have more sex. Thankfully her cheeks were still flushed or Peter might have noticed her blushing. While Lydia could say no to good sex, it was a lot harder to do the same to incredible good sex.

“I bet my mom would love that,” she replied.

“She would never notice me,” Peter replied and was probably right about that. “Besides she is hardly around, new boyfriend?”

Rolling her eyes, Lydia was not really surprised that Peter knew that. Her mother was rarely home and he had to know that from the time he had spooked around in her mind. Lydia was not even sure why she replied; probably frustration at her parents silly behaviour combined with the fact that her two best friends had one dead parent. That made complaining about hers acting like teenagers somewhat meaningless in comparison. “No, it’s my dad she’s seeing. Unless they’re arguing about me, they get along just fine.”

“It’s probably best they don’t find out.” Peter moved to his side, giving her a bit more room to move as he removed the condom. Lydia nodded, then pressed herself closely against his warm body. Right now she would not mind her warm room and a very hot shower. Peter smiled leaning with his chin against her forehead. “I take it you won’t mind me coming over then.”

“Hmm,” Lydia replied not willing to say yes so easily.

Whatever Peter was playing, another twisted mind game or if he was just just seizing the moment, she did not trust him, she still resented what he did to her. However, if he was indeed not behind this, if he behaved well enough and the sex remained this good, she considered that maybe they would make good allies at one point.

“How about I give you a call before?” he suggested probably sensing that he had a window of opportunity.

Lydia shrugged and as she thought about it, or rather pretended to, she also became aware that sex in a sleeping bag had the side-effect that now their bodily fluids stuck to the material.

“How about, I text you, when I need someone,” Lydia made her counter offer.

There was a good chance that at least for now, he might accept it. Who knew, she hoped that maybe if he focused a bit more on her, that he would not go after Stiles or the other betas. It also would give her time to figure out if he was behind it or not. Lydia sighed, she would have to ask Stiles for help - not that she planned to tell all the details but she needed someone to help her figure this out.

“Does that involve just sleepwalk prevention duties?”

As Peter asked the question, his hand moved over her side and then to her back, wrapping her closer against his chest.

“Who knows?” Lydia said looking around the semi-dark locker room. “Since you’re always prepared, does it matter what I need from you?”

It was a pretty bold statement but as long as Aiden was out of town, she could use distraction, and Peter pretty much said he owed her. That was so true, Lydia had decided to milk that for all it was worth now that she could, because she had no doubt that if fortunes changed again, he would merciless exploit her again. To her surprise he looked rather pleased from what Lydia saw. After a moment, she had her answer.

“I said I’m willing to help - so text me and I’ll be there,” Peter said sounding rather enthusiastic.

Lydia sighed, he probably knew her too well. She was sure that given the chance she was not likely to say ‘No’ all that often. As she made herself comfortable against him, she could tell that just like Aiden, there was a very short refractory period involved.

“This storm is going to last all night, isn’t it?” Lydia asked and wrapped her right leg over his brushing herself against his dick to further the arousal.

Peter was cocking his head to the side. “With luck it will calm down before the sun is up.”

“I don’t think I can sleep,” Lydia said flirtatiously and raised her head.

“Then it is lucky, we got three more,” Peter said and reached for another condom.

It was still dark outside when Lydia opened her eyes but she immediately noticed that the storm was not as ferocious anymore. Or rather that was the first thing she cared to take note off. There was this dull pain all over her body that she had hoped would pass the more awake she became. The opposite was true.

When she tried to move her head to look past the shoulder she was leaning against, she could feel every single love bit on her neck. While she had hickey before those were of a different category, but she could hardly blame Peter as she had encouraged and enjoyed it. Just as she had come onto him three times, although she was pretty sure she had not really much memory of what had happened somewhere during the third time.

Peter was awake and followed her gaze as she looked for the fourth condom, which was still wrapped and lying just within arms reach. That was what she had gotten for not getting enough, she felt sore like she had never been before. When she untangled her legs, she flinched as a sharp pain shot through her from between her legs right into her spine.

“I think we went a bit past excessive,” Peter smirked.

Deciding not to dwell upon what was done Lydia made a note that before she thought again about out-sexing a werewolf she should take into account that she was not healing as fast as they did. After all she had gone through she was not about to whimper around.

“I think my nightgown should be dry by now,” she looked up at him.

“Yes, it should be,” Peter agreed but made no sign that he took her words as a reason to go and get them.

He was running his fingers over her belly, which she oddly enough liked, even though she was not the cuddling type. This did not exactly qualify, there was this air of antagonism or whatever it was that left her strangely excited and also upset. Lydia was not even sure if she was angry with herself for actually liking this and wanting more or if she was just mad at Peter.

His behaviour was so beyond wrong, the way he touched her was calculating and possessive and her rational mind told her she should recoil from it. Instead she was not that unhappy that he was not yet on his way to fetch her clothing.

“I don’t know but I could use a shower,” Lydia said suggestively, “we both could.”

They were certainly sweaty and dirty and even her nose could tell that they had fucked like crazy in that sleeping bag. The sticky feeling was clinging to her skin at some expected and less expected parts. “You want me to go and fetch our clothes.”

“You’re smarter than you look,” she snapped back.

Peter chuckled and then breathing in loudly he said: “Maybe if you asked me nicely.”

Lydia grimaced, she was not going to play that game. So she smiled and then said rather sharply. “Go, like now, before I punch you in the throat.”

He laughed and kissed her. “But just because you asked so nicely.”

Lydia shook her head but gloated with the feeling of success, when Peter unzipped the sleeping bag. It was probably purely calculated on his part as there was no way she could land that punch or make it even remotely hurt. She remembered that he had before accepted an outright ‘No’ at least when it came to kissing her. If she was honest she could hardly blame him for not doing everything possible to come back from the dead, Lydia just wished it had not nearly driven her to the point of insanity.

It was still very cold outside the bag and with him gone it was not nearly as warm even with her wrapping the flap closely around her to preserve as much warmth as she could. Lydia only looked up when Peter said something to her: “Keep some of that cold water for me.”

“Don’t remind me,” she replied using the opportunity to look towards the showers.

Hearing his soft laughter, the door opened and Peter walked out. Lydia was not really shy about naked men but when she looked at him, she suddenly realised how much she hated that he was so gorgeous. He was not just looking good in clothes he had shaped up really nicely. Feeling the last of their shared warmth and smell around her, it was like he was still there. In a way he never was that far from her mind, after all before he had bitten her, she had a pretty normal life.

Every time something banshee like happened, she was reminded of him and what it had felt like having him inside her head. Those creepy moments when she was out of control and had visions and was walking around in her sleep. That was not all of it, there had been moments when she had felt almost normal, when he had appeared to her as his younger self and she missed those. Last night has been a bit of both those feelings combined in one.

Raising her head high, Lydia threw the flap back and sat up, ignoring the considerable discomfort from her sore insides and rose to her feet. She could see her ankle was black and blue, making it obvious that she probably had twisted while walking through the forest. She looked around and saw the towel that had been around her hair and as she picked up she noticed a stable of towels sitting on a shelf.

With small careful steps she went into the shower area, not caring that it was the boys shower because there was no way she would walk across the corridor into the girl’s locker room when nobody was there anyway. It was not like Peter was going to see anything new if he came back while she was still showering.

The water was feeling ice-cold but washing away the dried body fluids was beyond necessary. Especially her hands and fingernails needed a thorough cleaning as there was still blood under them. Lydia was sure if she had been so exhausted there was no way she could have fallen asleep being dirty like that.

When Peter came back she was shivering but almost done. He approached her and then wrapped his arms around her pulling her a bit away from the stream of cold water. Lydia sighed and could not believe that he was still that warm. His skin was a little bit cooler but as he pressed himself against her, she felt the heat and almost gave in.

“And?” she asked pushing herself away.

“I put the clothes on the bench between the lockers,” he told her as he very reluctantly let go of her.

Proud of herself she finished her shower and told him that it was all his, referring to the cold water. She dried herself off quickly and then much to her relief actually found her nightgown to be dry even though a bit dusty.

“Wonderful,” she sighed and slipped into it. Peter came back a while later, casually picking up a towel and drying himself off but not really bothering to cover himself.

Lydia was doing her best not to let that irritate her. As she had no shoes, she stepped onto the sleeping back, shivering.

“Take my jacket,” Peter told her and walked over to hand it to her.

“Thanks,” she said a bit surprised but not about to argue. Putting on the black leather jacket helped but she did long for some socks and a warm soft bed, maybe later a hot bath. “Is it safe enough?”

Slipping into his jeans he looked at her. “It’s probably the best time to take you home unnoticed.”

That was not that reassuring but Lydia did not mind as long as she would get back home. Still barefoot but otherwise dressed, he walked over to her and touched her cheek. “Don’t worry, you’ll be home soon.”

“How about you get dressed, so you can drive me home,” she replied in a somewhat neutral tone.

What she really wanted was to lean in and take a step closer, but Lydia was not going to do that, when she had the chance to get back to her comfortable bed instead. There was already this feeling of having made a grave mistake by indulging her need for sex and not because of the extreme soreness she felt. It had blurred the lines too much for her.

There was no way that after the mind-blowing sex tonight, she would be able to not think of that just as much as about the vicious things he had done to her and maybe was still doing to her. Lydia was not sure what she would do if it really was not him doing this again to her. She wasn’t about to forgive him but staying away from him would be harder.

“Yes, let’s get you back home,” Peter agreed after caressing her cheek for just a bit longer than necessary.

He sat down and put on his socks, then his shoes and while he was doing it, he added: “We of course should pack the bag and the used towels - might lead to awkward questions.”

Lydia agreed and took the towels stuffed them in the sleeping bag and rolled it somewhat together. When she was done, she found Peter staring at her causing her to hand him over her bundle with the evidence of her serious lack of judgement and impulse control. He didn’t took it.

“I thought, you’d carry it,” he said with an almost malicious smile.

Rolling her eyes and with a sour voice, she replied: “Fine.”

Somewhat relieved by knowing that the icky stuff was inside the bag, she pressed it to chest and closed her arms around it. Peter moved closer with a fast step and then lifted her up. To surprised to say anything Lydia just stared at him, clutching the bag tighter.

“I can’t let you walk around barefoot through the school and parking lot, can I?” he said clearly amused by her disbelief.

Peter’s suddenly being overcome with chivalry made her feel like he wanted to lull her further in. Telling herself it did not matter why he did it, that it was just nice not having to walk on the icecold ground and floor, Lydia wondered if knowing his reason would stop her from being positively influenced by it.

Outside, there was still a bit of rain and very strong wind blew her hair partially into Peter’s face. Lydia saw the Camaro again parked by the gym. She remembered wondering if it was the one Derek used to drive, after Peter had driven her to the diner in it. Obviously, it belonged now to Peter but Lydia was sure it was the same car.

“Didn’t that one belong to …” she began before, Peter interrupted, “Derek. Oh yes, turned out my nephew had some insurance problems with the car, he got a new one, I took this one over.” Then once they were closer, Peter asked her. “I could either put you down for a moment or you could get the key out of my pocket.”

She did not reply she just gave him this look that made it clear she was not going to fumble around in his pockets. Standing for a moment on the cold wet ground made her all the more glad to be in the car where she could put the heating on her foot space.

“You can put the bag on the back seat,” Peter said as he pulled out of the school’s parking lot. “I’m going to get rid of it.”

“I bet you will,” Lydia sighed both with annoyance and relief. There was something weird about holding the bag close to her and yet she did not trust him with the evidence. ‘Come on,’ Lydia she told herself. ‘He’s not going to show it to Scott or Isaac.” Shaking her head for a moment she turned and threw it behind her.

As she turned back, seeing Peter behind the wheel, it occurred to her that it was rather odd for Derek to give his car to him. Even if he sold it to Peter, that seemed to nice since Derek had slashed Peter’s throat as retribution for killing Laura. One would think that there was no way they would ever be able to interact civil with each other, let alone do car transfers. Maybe one could say that by getting killed Peter had atoned for his past sins.

Lydia scoffed, as she realised it was ridiculous to wonder about Derek treating Peter fairly normal when she had been the one banging him like crazy last night. It was even sketchier since everything that had happened to her was after Peter had been killed. It might have been a direct result of being killed but he had not even deemed it necessary to a fake a sincere apology. Lydia was sure that he had to fake it, because why would he be sorry to be alive again?

“So have you any idea, where Derek is and how he feels about - you know,” Lydia found herself slowly pressing out the words. She almost stopped and when she saw his grin, but instead raised her chin and continued. “you being an Alpha - again.”

He seemed so please with her bringing that up, even though did flinch a bit at her last word.

“It was going to happen, I should’ve been the Alpha form the start but when an Alpha is killed by a non-werewolf, the powers are passed onto the first born child,” Peter said with some contempt.

Lydia wondered if that came from him feeling slighted or if that was something else. When she had asked Stiles why he would have killed his own niece, Stiles had told her it was or the power but later he also mentioned that it had enabled him to heal faster. ‘Yes,’ Lydia thought, ‘Alphas healed faster.’ That was not the sum of it.

“Truth be told, I’d rather not have Derek interfere, he would complicate everything,” Peter shrugged once. “He’s has picked up bad habits from Scott: like wanting to fix immediate problems and ignoring the larger picture. So even if I knew under which bridge he has crawled I would not call him - yet.”

Lydia was surprised that he told her as much. Or Peter was sure that they would not be able to contact Derek, or maybe he wanted them to contact Derek because he actually wanted him back. With Peter it was hard to tell what he was aiming for. The streets were empty - empty of cars - the storm drains had a hard time swallowing up all the water and the car basically sloshed through the streets. As a result the were not going very fast.

“Okay, let’s assume, you can even help me figure out who it is,” Lydia decided for a moment to operate as if she was not still suspecting him. “is there a way to stop them without giving into their demands?”

“There is a good chance, that I could so something,” Peter smiled and Lydia bet he was deliberately vague. “However, it might not be something bad. It could be something that wants you to find the body and be properly buried. I doubt it’s someone wanting to return from the grave.”

“Well, let’s say it is someone like that, someone you don’t want back also - could you make them stop and how?” Lydia was curious about the answer for two reasons.

Unfortunately, Peter seemed to be aware of that. “Protecting yourself in case, Scott and his pals manage to kill me again?”

Lydia sighed in frustration, she had expected that, but she was not quite willing to forget about it either. “Maybe - is there a way?”

“Yes,” Peter admitted, then turning towards her smirked. “I’ll take care of it, but I won’t tell you how.”

He sounded so smug: it were two reasons why it was better to let him live. For once he could help her and if he did croak would go after her again.

“Does that mean you count on someone putting you back in the ground again?” Lydia wondered out loud.

Instead of a reply, Peter shrugged and Lydia realised they were almost home. When he stopped in their driveway, he turned: “You soon will realise that not being ‘normal’ will always make someone come after you.”

The veiled threat was not lost on Lydia, because she knew what she was - a banshee - was also far from being normal. So far most people she knew just regarded her as someone with some psychic powers. Only Stiles knew the name for what she was and even that had not told them much. If anyone in Beacon Hills knew what she could do it was either Deaton or Peter and both were not really the best people to rely on.

It was clear that Peter did not want to say if he was planning anything against her friends in particular. So Lydia opened the door, as she felt kind of weird about just leaving without saying a word, she said something that was polite but felt not really deserved. “Thanks, for bringing me home.”

As she left the car, she also heard the driver’s door open. “Don’t worry”, he said looking over the roof of the Camaro, “I said I’d look out for you.”

Lydia slammed the door close. “Yeah, I will text you should I need you.”

“Yes, so I should give you my number,” Peter said looking quite pleased.

She had not thought about that, the mere thought of finally being alone and not having him around had made her a bit short sighted. Then something else occurred to her, she had no keys and there was no spare key hidden under the mattress. Her mother had been against that as it could affect insurance claims in case of a break in.

“Then let’s go and look which door I hopefully left open,” Lydia walked around the car towards the front lawn. The grass was wet and cold and her feet sunk into the ground. She was not very hopeful about getting in, as she and Stiles had boarded up all the windows.

Peter locked the car and followed her around the house. It already looked from the distance that the door to the main kitchen was locked, when she walked to the swimming pool the patio door were closed as well. She sighed, but Peter approached the doors and after short moment, they opened.

He turned towards her clearly expecting more praise but she just walked inside, hearing a “You’re welcome,” as she pressed past him.

Inside the room Lydia remembered the last time they had been in this room together. Sort of together, as this had been in her dream with this room as the backdropping. But it was here, where she had finally found what this was all about. It was ironic to think that if the others had told her, instead of keeping her in the dark despite her direct involvement, then Peter might never had come back.

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” he asked as he closed the door.

Lydia turned to him and frowned. The thing was she just realised if Peter had not come back, then they would never have known she could draw Jackson back to the surface. Without that, as the Kanima they would have been unable to stop him and he would have followed Gerard’s last order. She sighed, as it also reminded me that Jackson oh so deep connection made him dump her with such ease nonetheless. Unless this connection talk was something Peter made up because he did not want to reveal her being a banshee with powers yet.

“Tell me something,” she demanded, “why was I able to bring Jackson back from his Kanima state - I mean the real reason.”

Peter shrugged and came closer. “Is it that hard to believe that you’re the one person he actually felt close to? For the longest time you did everything just to please him,” he reached and she stepped back.

“Let’s not start that again!” she firmly said. “If he really felt such a close connection to me, how come he dumped me twice and never even called?”

“Because he’s a selfish jerk - who is also very insecure - maybe he believed that a long distance relationship would never work out, that you wouldn’t approve of him sleeping with other girls. My guess would be, he rather broke it off to take control of the situation,” Peter explained.

There was something about his words that got her to think but mostly she wanted to not hear it. Because it made her realise that she only seemed to feel something for guys who treated her rotten and that disturbed her. While Jackson had not slashed her up, otherwise there was little difference between the amount of pain she received from both of them. Aiden was no saint either, he had come through for her but he had also left with a very cheap goodbye and initially he had used her to get to her friends and taunt them.

“Something you would know all about,” Lydia said, glaring at him.

“True, I like to stay in control”, Peter admits and even before he continues she knows she won’t like what he has to say from this smirk on his face. From him knowing he had a weak spot to hit. “From the sounds you made last night, you did not seem to mind - at all.”

Anger made her cheeks flush: that he dared to put that out so shamelessly but mostly because he was right. “Hmm,” she mumbled and shrugged before folding her arms aggressively in front of her chest. “Yes, I like it. When having sex - not outside of it.”

Peter was looking at her somewhat between impressed and calculating. “We work it out - somehow.”

“Yeah,” Lydia said frustrated realising that basically everything she could throw at him just trickled off like rain from waterproof surface. It was time to get to her cell phone and then get a little bit more rest in her very comfortable bed. “Unless I misplaced my phone while sleepwalking it should be upstairs.”

With those words she climbed up the stairs, which felt even more intense than walking on even ground - yet, it was not exactly unpleasant either. Peter was following her, she was not expecting anything else. He was not the only one who felt free to waltz into her bedroom, so she mainly ignored him.

Her cell was on her nightstand and fetched it eagerly to see if it was still working as Lydia had not charged it in quite some time. A sigh of relief came over her when the display went on, with a few movements she had opened her phonebook and handed it to Peter. Watching her amused he took it and entered his number, it occurred to her that he probably could have written it down on a piece of paper.

“Want me to stay and make sure you don’t venture back into nature?”

The way he said it, Lydia thought it might just as well count as a threat. Lydia shook her head. “I think I’ve already had my tour for the day.”

With that she walked over to her drawer and got out a pair of socks. She did not even care that her feet were slightly dirty. Her feet were cold and she would not wait until she had gotten rid of Peter. As she sat on the bed and put one sock on, he came closer. She ignored him finished her task only to look up and asked: “What?”

Then Lydia saw that Peter was holding out the cell phone to her. She took it, thinking that maybe she had not insisted on him writing the number down on paper was to have him follow her here. That was unacceptable, Lydia stood up and looked at him.

“I’ll text if I don’t find anyone to watch over me,” she said as firmly as she could.

Peter shrugged. “Well, what about finding out who is causing this? I can’t do much about it if I’m downtown.”

“Well, first I want to make sure that you’re not behind it,” Lydia explained, hoping this was going to get him to leave before she caved in.

Leaning a bit closer he asked: “How are you going to do that?”

“I think of something,” Lydia said still having no idea what. “But no I really like to sleep in my own bed - alone.”

“Of course,” Peter said and slightly bowed as he stepped back. There was this sinister smile on his face, when he added on his way out. “Let’s hope you remain there - in your bed.”

Taking a deep breath she fought off the uneasy feeling and that stupid thought about that it would not be the worst thing to have him watch over her tonight. Lydia knew if she caved in every time, she would not be able to say no when it mattered, so she just said: “I intend to.”

After Peter had left her room, she closed the door and then switched the light off. Crawling under her soft covers she felt warm but also very clearly all the bruises and markings the past 24 hours had left on her. It was probably lucky that with the storm her parents would not be back before tonight or maybe tomorrow.

As she heard the car start, Lydia felt proud that she had stayed firm. After some hopefully restful sleep, she would have to talk with Stiles, if anyone could help her figure out the extent of Peter’s involvement in her sleepwalking, it was him. At any rate, he was the better choice to keep her from walking out into the night. Sighing Lyydia thought good choices were never her thing when it came to men.