somebody said you got a new friend \ does she love you better than i can?

( when the person you loved most is buried in the ground

you turn to the one of the only other people who understand

you miss her face; he misses her laugh ).

.

Lydia starts drinking vodka at three in the morning, drowning herself until she's so drunk she thinks her best friend might still be alive. Allison's in the corner, frowning as Lydia pours herself another glass. One more, the redhead whines to the imaginary ghost in the corner of her room. Lights are turned off, cloaking herself in darkness. Scott stops by sometimes, drinking silently as she turns her music up really loud.

.

Scott tries to learn how to use a bow and arrow. Lydia stands with him, fumbling with the bow as her words slur. Drinking at 3 AM has turned into drinking at every hour. He fires an arrow, watches it fly and all he can see is a sword piercing her stomach. He stumbles back into the corner, dropping the weapon at his feet. Allison's eyes are wide, hands grabbing at the arrow he fired that is lodged in her skin. Lydia spends an hour trying to calm him down.

.

It's not real, Lydia whispers as she shakes him. It's not real. It's not real. Scott can't hurt Allison because there's no Allison to hurt. Lydia can't hurt Allison because there's no Allison to hurt. No one can hurt Allison because there's no Allison. Lydia sobs, salty tears soaking through Scott's shirt. His fingers run through her hair, trying to calm her down. It's not real, he whispers. Repeating the words she had told him.

.

(neither say it, but they would rather hurt

allison then have no allison to hurt )

.

Lydia lets her fingers drag over the books Scott has stacked up in his room as he changes into a new shirt. Eyes examine every inch of his bedroom, inspecting the photo albums piled underneath his bed. Stiles' grins back at her in one of the photos. Homework thrown over his bed in a hazy mess. Who has time for homework anymore, right? Lydia laughs bitterly as she pushes it out of the way and sits down on the bed. Her fingers tap against her leg, pulling down the hem of her dress.

.

"You alright?" Scott asks. Lydia rolls her eyes; is she alright? — she's so sick of people asking her that question. Of course, she's not fucking alright. Her best friend died and now she's left with this gaping hole in her stomach, in her heart. Scott shakes his head, stupid question, he mutters as he falls onto the bed next to her. If anybody knows how she feels, it's him.

.

Lydia intertwines their fingers together, leans her head against his shoulder. Outside the sun starts to go down, and inside Lydia breaks down (again). It's easier when the person sitting next to her is also cracking, breaking and burning until he's also left with nothing. It's horrible and wonderful all at once. Lydia doesn't like going through this alone, wandering around the streets in Allison's old clothes and a flask tucked into her jacket.

.

Scott likes this; how much easier it is when somebody knows what you're going through. He loved Allison, and Lydia loved Allison and she loved them both. Now, both of them are lost souls. It happens without either of them realising it but they've found each other amongst all the chaos life has brought them. Lydia kisses him, a small kiss and Scott wraps his arms around her in a hug. It's nice, having a friend that understands exactly what you're going through. Nobody else loved Allison like they loved Allison.

—

authors note: so this was a really quick drabble. idk if i like it.