"Stiles" his name came as a sob from her lips. "Stiles, wake up. You have to wake up"

She took his head firmly in her hands and shook him ever so slightly. His eyes were closed, as if sleeping, or dreaming. She almost didn't want to wake him. Maybe he was somewhere peaceful and kind, away from all the death and agony and grief. But she couldn't feel him breathing as she pressed her head against his chest, searching for any kind of comfort. Any kind of life.

"Not you too" her voice was almost a whisper as she cried, hoarse and hurting from its previous endeavour. "You don't get to do this Stiles, not you. Not now"

When she shook him harder, a breath finally came to his lips. But it wasn't really a breath. It was a huge inhale of pain and fear and exhaustion, as if he'd just woken up from the worst nightmare imaginable. Lydia jumped at his outburst and she felt her hands begin to tremble frenetically.

"Stiles" she said as tears fell freely down the pale skin of her cheeks. "Stiles look at me"

His eyelids fluttered as his vision became more focused and he obeyed, feebly looking up at the weeping girl before him. Lydia was too overcome with grief to notice the dark circles, almost bruises beneath his eyes, or the sickly complexion enhancing his gaunt features.

Stiles breathing quickly settled, but a second later he was hunching in on himself in pain.

"Ouch" he exclaimed, although ouch was obviously an understatement. His voice sounded like gravel, weak beyond belief.

"You're okay. You're okay" Lydia was speaking to assure herself more than anything. Only two minutes ago she'd experienced the worst thing in the world. She'd felt every bit of it. The death of her friend. Her best friend. Felt her own bones tremble. Ice run through her veins. Her heart rip apart. She wasn't about to feel that again. Especially not for Stiles.

Grasping his hand in her own, she gasped at how cold it felt. His skin was ice to her touch.

"Stiles, you're so cold. Why are you so cold?"

Stiles held onto her tight, as if clinging on to a tether to reality.

"I'm okay Lydia. I'm okay. You said it yourself. Don't worry"

Then his face changed as he took in Lydia's appearance. The still flowing tears. The distraught expression. Lydia could feel the impending breakdown shining through her features as clear as day.

"Lydia, what's wrong? What happened?"

He instantly sat up despite the obvious pain it caused him. Lydia felt her whole body go numb. She didn't know what to say. She wanted it to be a mistake. A huge stupid mistake. And as she looked at the fragile boy in front of her she wondered how she could do this to him. He was already so faint. So vulnerable. Probably blaming himself for every other god awful thing that had happened so far. As agonizing thoughts and shivers rattled her body she felt Stiles' grip tighten further.

"Lydia, tell me" his voice became stern, pleading and terrified all at the same time. She looked at him and took a deep hitching breath, holding onto him for dear life.

"Allison" she said, and the name broke her heart in two. "I felt it Stiles. I felt it and I screamed. I couldn't stop it. I don't know what to do. I don't know. I can't..."

Lydia trailed off as Stiles' entire demeanour seemed to slump. As he collapsed back against the concrete wall, Lydia saw something break behind his eyes. His whole body became that of a corpse, unmoving and lifeless.

"No no no" she said cupping his face with her hands once more. "I'm the one that should be turning off right now. You don't get to shut down on me. You have to get out of here. I have to get you out of here. I need you right now Stiles. I need you"

"It's my fault" Stiles eyes glazed over. A single tear rolled down his left cheek. "Allison's dead because of me"

"Stop it" a force came out in Lydia's voice that she didn't know she was capable of. "You don't get to do that either. You're not blaming yourself for this. Not now. Not ever. Now get up. I don't know what's wrong with you but I'm gonna fix it okay? There's no way I'm losing you too"

Lydia thanked the heavens that Stiles responded to her now. There must've been something about her tone of voice that motivated him. As she helped him to his feet the way he looked at her made her want to cry her eyes out and kiss him and never see him again all at once. Because she saw how he hurt. She saw how much he was in love with her. And she saw Alison's death written all over him, etched into his features like a permanent branding. She was sure he could see it all over her too.

"Where does it hurt?" she asked as he winced and stumbled slightly. She tried her best to keep him standing and stable as they staggered down the endless hallway. However, Stiles remained utterly silent, minus the occasional outburst of breathy discomfort that he tried so hard to disguise. It pained Lydia to see him so selfless. She knew he felt unworthy of comfort. Unworthy of interaction even. Perhaps he was thinking of Scott. Or Isaac. She could tell he was already adding their pain to his own, collecting it all up until eventually it would ruin him. But in some sick and twisted way that didn't matter, because Alison was dead. Dead. The word terrified her because it seemed so final. It made the anguish of this broken boy in her arms seem miniscule and irrelevant. But at the same time it was absolutely everything. Stiles was soon to be dead too according to the Nogitsune. And that scared her more than anything else in the world. The fear, the unremitting overwhelming fear of losing him served as a distraction from the hell she really wanted to feel. And maybe that was selfish. But she didn't care. Right now, Stiles was her beautiful, humble, dying distraction. And now it was her turn to save him, whatever the consequences.