[And just like that, Lydia's already going through the Trophies, as Alan likes to call them, brisk and efficient and level-headed as you please. It makes his chest tight with a familiar swell of warmth and affection...the same one Scout always made him feel.

Maybe it was Alan's own damn fault for loving too easily, but Lydia Martin had him by the balls from that first half-assed introduction from Jackson. He would have done anything to be with her...but he clued in pretty early that she was legit in love with Jackson...and then there was Stiles. Stiles, who probably saved his sanity by simple virtue of being Scout's best friend, and showing him that being Lydia's friend could be enough...Stiles, who was out of his depth, but probably the only guy that, in Alan's mind, would ever deserve Lydia because he was as crazy about her as Alan was, and in all the same ways.

Lydia would never be his girlfriend. She'd never even know he was in love with her...but she was everything else in the world to him, and it was enough. Then after he broke up with Scout, it was everything to him. And maybe that was why being friends with Scout after the breakup stung so much sometimes: Lydia would always own a big piece of his heart, and he was okay with that.

Scout...she owned the rest, and his soul, too. And that, he couldn't live without. That, he had to earn back.

In spite of himself, Alan grins into the comm, shaking his head.]

Lyds, I could kiss you. [The words are said with playful fondness.] I'm on my way.

[He's heading out of his cabin when he pauses to look down at his bare feet, then sighs and shakes his head as he continues on.]

You, uh...wouldn't happen to have any shoes in the Trophy Closet, too, would you?