Hi everyone! This is my first Stydia fic. I decided to write it in honor of my friend, DD's, birthday. It's gonna be maybe five or six chapters long? I don't know yet, I just know it's not gonna be extremely long and boring. But this first chapter is dedicated to DD, one of my favorite and best internet friends. (She's joharxlle on Tumblr and perfectlycas on Instagram.) Hopefully you like it, and happy birthday DD!

WARNING: This is my very first Stydia fic. If there is any OOCness, I apologize. I tried to figure out there characters and rewatched many Stydia scenes before writing this, so hopefully it's not too bad. Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Mayday Parade or any of their lyrics, Teen Wolf, Stiles or Lydia.

It's not the first time, but this one really carved it in.

Tell your new friends that no one knows you like I do.

It's over, I wanna see you again, I wanna feel it again.

{Oh Well, Oh Well—Mayday Parade}

If there was anything Lydia hated, it was hospitals.

She hated the feeling of impending doom and death that drifted through the air as soon as she stepped inside one. She hated the smell of nasty hospital food that wafted through the air. She hated the plain gray walls and the ripped couches in the waiting area. She hated the nurses who had fake, painted smiles plastered across their face. She hated everything about this place. She noticed all these features the first three times she came into this hell hole, and all three of those times, she had lost someone. She couldn't afford to lose anyone else; she wouldn't. She can't. God knows what she would do to herself if she did.

So why the hell was she in there for a fourth time?

Well, the answer was quite obvious; she was in there to lose another person. But she didn't quite know it yet. All she knew was that someone from her grade had gotten into a car accident, and her mother was pretty much forcing her to go talk to him, no matter how awkward it would be. (Considering the fact that she hadn't talked to this kid in, what, eight years? Maybe even nine? God knows.) As she entered the elevator, she braced herself. She already felt faint at that horrid smell. How the hell was she supposed to go talk to someone too?

There was another girl in the elevator, wearing a purple sweater. "What floor?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Um," Lydia paused, recalling the number the receptionist told her. "Twelfth."

"Cool! That's where I'm going, too." The girl grinned and pushed the button just as the doors started to close.

Purple Sweater tried to initiate a conversation several times by asking her meaningless questions, but each time Lydia ended it with a short, harsh answer. (Another thing to add to my list of why I hate the hospital, she thought. Annoying people.)

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the doors opened and Lydia stepped out, Purple Sweater trailing behind her.

"See ya around." She smiled and walked away. Lydia rolled her eyes and nodded.

She finally took a sharp intake of breath and headed to the room the receptionist/nurse/whatever had said the kid was in. She walked painfully slowly, and with each step she regretted coming here more and more. Finally, she reached the room. She gripped the flowers her mom made her bring, and entered the room to see a boy practically tied to the crisp white bed with wires and tubes. His eyes were closed and his face was pale, his freckles standing out. She could see the dark purple circles that were under his eyes. His left leg was in a cast and his right hand had a splint on it. She bit her lip nervously at the sight at her once strong and sturdy classmate being reduced to… this. It was terrifying, even though Lydia had seen this happen three times.

After standing there for a few seconds, she decided to speak. "Hello?" She said softly. "Uh… Stiles?"

His eyes fluttered open and looked around blankly. There was something… odd about the way he was looking around. Finally, he squinted in Lydia's general direction. "Who is it?" He asked, his voice cracking and scared.

"Um, it's me, Lydia. Remember? We have third period science together." She took a few careful steps toward him, awkwardly sitting on the chair that was placed next to his bed.

"Oh," He said, his voice suddenly turning hard, still facing where Lydia had been a couple seconds ago, which was odd. "Finally realized I existed, did we?" He laughed humorlessly, his eyes out of focus.

Lydia felt herself turning warm. She swallowed hard. "I'm sorry about that... and what happened, and about, well, everything, really."

It was as if, while she spoke, Stiles finally realized that she had move. He turned his head around towards her and raised a dark eyebrow and snorted. "You never cared about me before. Why now? Is it because I got in a car accident and my mom died in it? Or is it beause it made me blind? If so, I don't need your pity."

"Or is it because it made me blind?" Lydia blinked, everything making sense now. That's why his eyes were slightly glazed over and unfocused. It was because he became blind. Jesus.

"I brought you flowers." Lydia said stupidly. She bit her tongue. She hated feeling stupid .

Stiles laughed is humorless laugh once more. "Wow," He began sarcastically. "Flowers. Gee, that makes everything better. I'm going to tell all my friends to get blind just so they can get flowers from the great Lydia Martin."

She looked down at her feet. What had she been thinking? She mentally cursed her mom for making her come to this place. Then, standing up awkwardly, she said, "Well, I'm just gonna... I'm just gonna go now." She placed the flowers on the cold gray metal table next to his bed and turned around quickly, taking fast paced steps towards the door and was about to turn the doorknob when Stiles cleared his throat.

"Wait," He said, his voice soft.

Lydia turned around slowly. "Yeah?" She mentally hit herself. She sounded scared. She hated it when she sounded scared. It made her feel weak. Lydia Martin was not weak. Lydia Martin had been through death more than once. Lydia was strong. She hated it when other people thought she wasn't.

Stiles's eyes still seemed glazed over as he looked at her. "What type of flowers?"

Lydia smiled nervously. "They're lilies. I remember that you told Mrs. Williams that they were your favorite when we were dissecting them," She said softly.

Stiles seemed surprised. "You remember that?"

She suddenly felt a sense of nostalgia and pain tugging on her sleeve. "Yeah," She said, hoping her voice wasn't as cold as she felt. "I remember everything."

Well, hopefully that wasn't too terrible. Again, I apologize for any OOCness. Thanks for reading! Happy birthday, DD. I'll try to update soon. R&R. I need to know if I should keep writing! See y'all soon.

-Soumya