Lydia Martin (
sucking) wrote in
outsiderslogs2013-05-21 11:52 pm
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Entry tags:
oo2. | ℒ | what the HELL just happend?
who. Lydia & her roommates
what. Lydia's Triumphant Return
where. Places.
when. This Morning.
warnings. Stiles will fuss.
Lydia wakes up with a start. Her body feels sore, a pull across her chest as if she's been in a collision. The Jeep. She had been in a warehouse. Frowning, she sits up and glances around. This isn't the warehouse. She glances down and she's in a bed. Fingers press to her brow, rubbing at it and trying to wake up more. She feels hazy and when she stands up she feels just uncomfortable. Moving to the door, she exits and then she realizes that she's not in a warehouse somewhere in Beacon Hills. She's on Omega. Again.
Turning around she looks at the door, but it looks like all the others and she's not even sure who would've taken her here -- or why.
Shaking it off, she finds her omni-tool and figures out where she is. It's just a shuttle ride and then she's back at the apartment. She needs to get back.
The ride feels numb, like a blur. She's trying to reconcile being home. She's trying to deal with what she saw. She's not even sure how it happened -- if it happened. Except, it matches what Stiles said to her. Maybe that's what it was. Maybe she dreamed it. Except it feels much more real. She's sure of it. Her fingers rub to the side of her nose again and the shuttle comes to a stop, allowing her to get out.
She gets to the apartment and opens the door. Glancing around, she just speaks loudly, "Stiles? Rachel?"
Her voice carries, mostly because Lydia knows how to project.
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"I'm sorry for leaving you with him during that. I'm sure it was quite the adventure," she says it as though she wants to make light of it, even though she knows that it's not really anything to joke about.
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She pauses, tucks her hair behind her ear, and her smile turns a little wry. "Besides, us girls have to stick together, right? And keep guys like Stiles from doing anything too dumb."
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It isn't that she thinks Stiles will do anything dumb, but it's just that she knows their odds and considering what her life has turned out to really be... bad things seem to just happen around them.
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She shifts her weight from foot to foot, looking at Lydia with a slightly uneasy expression. "Actually, since you're back, there's...something I really need to talk to you about."
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"We can talk and vent and whatever else we need to do."
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"Nothing to vent about, I promise," she says, smoothing her hands over her lap. "It's just...there are things you should know. About me. And...my world."
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"The world I come from...Earth is under attack. No, more like -- we're being invaded. By these ugly alien slugs, these things called Yeerks. They can crawl inside your head, flatten themselves around your brain, and that's it. You're a slave, now. A Controller. You don't so much as breathe unless the Yeerk in your head decides you do. They're staging a silent invasion on Earth, slowly infesting more and more of us every day, and nobody even knows they're there. Except for us. Me and a few of my friends." She rubs one arm, trying to figure out the best way to continue. She'd told all of this to Stiles before, but somehow, talking to Lydia is different. "It was totally by chance, I think. We met this dying alien, an Andalite, one of the ones who are fighting the Yeerks, trying to stop them from conquering every last race in the galaxy. He gave us Andalite technology. Morphing capability. The ability to turn into any creature we can touch. It's our only weapon against them. And if they ever found out who we are...that'd be it. War over."
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She understands that last statement is a bit more severe than how Rachel describes it, because it wouldn't just be the war over, it would be their lives over.
"I'm sorry that you have to go through that. It's better here, though, right?"
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"No -- no, it's not. Not even close. Because it means they're fighting alone, okay? It means they don't have me. There were only six of us to begin with. If I'm stuck out here, and the only person I even know here is from some weird alternate reality...no. It's worse."
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Frowning, she reaches for Rachel's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She wished Allison was here. Allison had been the fighter, the one that didn't sit down through everything. Lydia just let herself be pushed into corners and she knew that. Knowing the truth, knowing what Stiles told her, it's easier to think that Allison would know what to do here.
"That week... the week I was gone, I dreamt that I was back home, but it -- it felt real. It felt like I was there and I swear it wasn't a dream. It wasn't a dream and I didn't miss anything. It was like the world had just waited for me to return."
She looks at Rachel, trying to see if the suggestion could take hold, "So, maybe that's how it is for you. Maybe they aren't alone, maybe they're just waiting for you to come back so they can fight again."
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"I don't know. That was a dream," Rachel says, quietly, but the irritation is gone from her voice. "I guess...it's possible. I don't know, this place -- it doesn't make any sense. I don't know why I'm here."
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"The things that I felt, that happened back home -- they're the same things that Stiles told me happened. We're not from the same point in time, so I can't be missing, because in his future -- I'm still there. I was there, so things can't just keep going without you, Rachel. You have to trust that you're too important for that to happen."
It's the sort of thing she'd want to hear and she hopes that it sounds like the truth, because it's what she wants to be the truth.
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Rachel nods, slowly, biting her lip. She manages a small smile, though, squeezing Lydia's hand back. "Thanks, Lydia," she says, her voice a little hoarse, but it's genuine. "It's just...god. All of this is too much. I don't even know what I'm doing here, if I'm still back home somehow. Or how I'm here."