It was the first Friday night of December and Lydia Martin was spending it alone. She didn't mind it though. She actually quiet enjoyed it. There hadn't been much supernatural activity the past two weeks so Scott had told everyone to spend some time with their families this weekend. Lydia's mother unfortunately went on a retreat of some sorts. She's spent weeks at home alone before, so she's not really bothered by it.
She was currently curled up in a big blanket by the fire reading a book she had found on her dresser. She doesn't exactly know how it got there or who put it there but she was curious. As she flipped through the pages she realized it was a poem book. Each page held a different, anonymously written poem.
She was almost halfway through the book when she heard her phone ringing. She went to where it was plugged in, in the kitchen. She smiled as she saw the name of her goofy, hyperactive friend. "Hey Stiles. What's up? It's kinda late."
"Hey um I'm sorry I didn't know who to call and Scott is out on a date with Allison." He whispers. She notices how out of breath and nervous he sounds.
"Stiles what's wrong?" She begins to worry that the supernatural world has woken up again.
"I don't know. I just don't feel very well. Like I really don't feel good." He says with a shaky breath.
"Does your dad know you don't feel good?" She questions him, knowing he would tell his dad anything.
"No because he's out of town all weekend. Lyds I don't want to be alone. Can you please come over?" She can tell he's crying. His voice is raw and quiet.
"I'll be there in 10." She reply's without a doubt. But before she hangs up she hears a faint thank you.
She grabs her purse and stuffs her phone charger and phone in it. As she slings it onto her shoulder she opens the fridge. She immediately finds what she's looking for, left over chicken noodle soup. She grabs her keys off the hook by the door and she heads out the door.
Not even 10 minutes later she's pulling into his driveway. She grabs her purse, locks her car, and then heads up to the door. She's never really knocked on his door. She always just walked. So as she walked in she called out his name. "Stiles?"
"I'm in the living room." She heard him whisper. Stiles was almost never quiet, unless they were hiding from some supernatural creature. Even then it was hard for him. She definitely knew something was wrong.
"Okay I'll be right there. Let me put something in the fridge." She's surprised when she walks into the kitchen and sees that there are no dishes in the sink and that it seems as if nobody's been in here for 2 days. She quickly put the soup she brought in the fridge and made her way over to Stiles. He's laying down on the couch with a blanket tucked up to his neck. She sits down on the edge of the couch near his stomach. "Aw Stiles..." She sighs as she reaches to put a hand on his forehead. He shivers as her hand touches his steaming head. "Oh Hun you have a fever. Do you have any Tylenol?"
"Mhmm. It's in the bathroom." He answers, leaning into her hand as she pushes his hair off his forehead.
"I'll be right back okay." She tells him as she pats his shoulder softly and gets up. She walks into the bathroom and grabs the Tylenol. She goes out to the Kitchen and fills him up a glass of water.
She returns to the living room and tells him to sit up. She notices him struggling but he eventually gets sat up. "Here take these," she hands him the pills, " and drink this." She gives him the water. She watches as he takes small sips of the water as he swallows the pills.
"Will you sit with me please?" He cries out like a child would to their mother when they are sick.
"Yeah of course. Scoot forward a bit." She complies. She sits down behind him with her back to the back of the couch. She pulls his shoulder down
So his head is lying in her lap.
"Thank you Lydia." He says. She only nods back. Her hand automatically goes to his hair. She just starts running her fingers through it. Soon enough she hears his soft snores. She looks down and smiles. She's not happy that he's sick, but him being sick just reminds her that Stiles is still human. She doesn't know what she would do if she didn't have him in her life. She needs him to keep her sane. He keeps her from losing her mind.
She's perfectly content with playing with his hair and studying the moles on his face. He turns to lay on his side so his face is basically on her stomach. She puts her other arm over his side and rubs his back, drawing abstract shapes into his shirt.
A few minutes later he starts to shake. She goes to get up to find him another blanket but as she stands up he grabs her hand "wait where are you going?"
"I'm just going to go get you another blanket." She tells him and she sees his face relax. She looks over at the clock and sees that it's almost one in the morning. "Actually why don't I help you up stairs to bed? You'll sleep better if you're in your bed."
"Okay." He quietly replies slowly sitting up. He starts breathing heavy as if he was out of breath.
"Hey you're alright." She says bringing a hand up to his cheek. "Do you want me to help you?" She asks pulling his head up to look at her.
He just nods and takes her hand off of his cheek and intwines their fingers. She can't help but smile at the action. She gently pulls him up off the couch and pulls the hand she is holding behind her head so his arm is around her shoulders. She wraps an arm around his waist and slowly starts making her way towards the stairs. Halfway up the stairs he stops walking.
"Lyds I need to sit down." He breathes out.
"Okay." She guides him down to sit on the step with his back against the wall. "Just breath. In through your nose. Out through your mouth." His hand squeezes her hand. "Stiles I'm right here. You're okay." His breathing doesn't improve. It becomes more rigid and forced. She moves down from the step above him to sit on the same step as him. She lets go of his hand and puts both of hers on either side of his face. His nose is running and he has started to cry. She wipes away the tears from his cheeks and takes one hand off his cheek to find a tissue in her purse. She wipes his nose for him. "Hey, hey, look at me. What's wrong?" She asks once he calmed down and finally look at her.
"I don't know. I don't get sick often and then my dads out of town. He rarely goes out of town. What if something happens to him Lyds? I wouldn't be able to handle that." He says with pain and sadness in his eyes.
"Stiles you're stressed out. And when you're stressed your immune system is not as strong. Give this a day or two and you'll feel better I promise." He reaches up and puts his hand on top of hers but not removing it from his face. "And as for your dad, he's going to be just fine. If he can deal with the supernatural world, he can definitely take care of himself." He just looks up at her and nods. "Now come on, let's get you to bed." She says standing up. He intwines their fingers again and she puts his arm around her shoulders and her arm around his waist.
They make it up the rest of the stairs and into his room. She immediately sits him on the end of his bed. She folds back the covers, "Come on, in ya go." He slowly scoots under the covers. Lydia pulls the covers up to his chin. "I'll be right back. I'm going to go get you a cold washcloth to help bring your fever down." She leans down and kisses his forehead.
"Thanks Lyd." He whispers back as she walks out the door.
When she comes back he's asleep. She quietly walks over and puts the towel on his forehead. She turns the lamp off and heads to the door. Just as she's at the door he calls out to her, "Wait, where are you going?"
"I'm just going down stairs. I'll sleep on the couch." She reassures him.
"Please stay with me." He begs.
"Okay."