A/N: Yep, I'm back. Sort of.
For those of you who were brought here because you have me on author alert and this wasn't what you were expecting (like something Cheated Hearts related), please see my profile for any details on what I've been up to and why I've been absent from the world of fan fiction for so long.
Since my last foray into fan fiction, I've jumped on the Stydia ship. It's a bit unusual for me because I'm usually into things that have been ruined by their creators/writers or that have zero possibility ever. And oddly, I actually like where the show is at with both characters right now. However, what's always slightly irksome about most shows like Teen Wolf is that they're so jam packed with action, moving from one great menace to the next, that one usually has to assume that friendships formed over terrifying near death experiences and that's why it's suddenly there between characters. But I really wanted to see a Stydia friendship build and develop over time and have hints at something more in the future- I like the idea of the two of them having a very, very slow-burn type relationship. And since that clearly isn't going to happen on the show, I decided to dive back into writing and write it myself.
So, what does the long rambly paragraph above mean? This story will be cannon compliant (for now) and will fill in times we don't see in episodes. It will be Stydia friendship, but since I am a shipper, it will definitely have hints of developing into something more.
This first chapter takes place right after the events of 3b.
I hope you enjoy the story!
Shuffling Sideways
-o-o-o-
One: And I'd like to wake up from this by your side
Stiles drove her home.
Stiles drove her home. It will seem ridiculous to her later, that Stiles drove her home right after he had an evil Japanese spirit finally disentangled from his mind, from his soul. But it wasn't even a conversation. Kira's parents had come for her. Scott needed to check on his mom as he had gotten a call about chaos at the hospital from his dad. And when she finally stopped crying on Stiles' shoulder and released him, he just led her to his Jeep and opened the passenger side door for her like it was natural. Like it wasn't even a thought that despite his clear exhaustion and all the hell he had just physically and emotionally experienced, he would take care of her.
Of course, it didn't stop with the drive.
When they reached her house, Stiles- ever observant despite everything- noticed that her mom's car wasn't in the driveway and there weren't any lights on in her house. He hadn't even put the Jeep in park yet when he asked, "Hey Lydia, where's your mom?" And damn him if he doesn't ask that question like he already knows the answer.
"Probably asleep. It is after two in the morning Stiles," Lydia attempts to answer in a tone that's slightly belittling, hoping it will sell the lie.
But this is Stiles, and somehow he sees right through her (she's starting to realize that she likes that about him). "Lydia," he says warningly.
She sighs dramatically and rolls her eyes, "Fine. After Peter talked to her at school I started trying to convince her to go see my aunt. She was nearing the end of her pregnancy, first child, over forty, alone, so it seemed like she should go spend time with her anyway. And if it got her out of town before some typical Beacon Hills insanity, then all the better."
"She's not here?" he asks, but it lacks the sound of a question.
"She's in Portland."
"And you haven't told her what happened," again, he says it like a statement, like he just knows her too well.
"My aunt had her baby three days ago. And I know my mom wants to be back for work on Monday so there's no point making her rush down here a day or two early. The only thing that will change if she hurries back is that it increases the chance that she'll get in an accident," her voice breaks on the last word and she hastily wipes away a tear. She can't lose anyone else. She just can't. And as irrational as it may be, she's terrified that if she changes her mom's plans by calling her to come back home early, and something happens to her mom on her way back, it will be her fault. (Like Aiden was.)
She feels a hand take hers and looks over to Stiles. There's no judgment in his eyes. And he doesn't try to convince her that she's being illogical and should just call her mom. Instead, he declares, "You shouldn't be here alone. You really shouldn't have been these last few days when I was-"
"I haven't had much time to be here. Really. It's fine," she tries to assure. Because honestly, with the exception of changing clothes and a shower, she hasn't been home much since her mom left.
"You shouldn't be alone now," he says, though she can tell he hates saying it because they both know that the place she would usually go is no longer an option. She can't go to Alison's. Alison's not there and she never will be again. "How about you come stay at my house? At least for tonight."
He actually looks a little nervous, which makes Lydia smile the tiniest bit. A year ago the idea of staying the night at Stiles' house with him and the Sherriff would have sounded so uncomfortable and ridiculous. Now, she's honestly feeling pretty relieved that he offered. After everything, she really didn't want to be alone tonight (despite trying to evade Stiles finding out that she was indeed alone). Right now, what she feels like she needs is to know that Stiles is still safe (they came so close to losing him) and to feel safe herself and she knows she will with the Stilinskis. "Okay," she agrees and she can tell Stiles is surprised.
"Good, good," he mutters, letting out a breath he had clearly been holding. "Uh, do you want to grab some stuff first or do you just want to head over there or do you want…food or…"
Before Stiles can ramble any further, she cuts him off and tells him she's going to go grab a few things. She unlocks her passenger side door herself, since Stiles still seems to be processing everything, hurries in her house grabs some things, and rushes right back out to his Jeep before she can change her mind. She's used to putting on a brave face and not giving in to the things she feels, but she just lost her best friend, she lost her quasi-boyfriend, and she almost lost another friend. She needs to let herself need this, and she's smart enough to know that.
It's a little awkward when she's standing in the doorway of the Stilinski home watching an extended hug between father and son. Apparently, Stiles had texted his dad that he was okay and heard the same in return while he was comforting her at the school. He had also apparently called him about her coming over while she was grabbing a few of her things, as he didn't seem at all surprised to see her standing in his doorway with a bag in her hand.
After their embrace ends, Sherriff Stilinski approaches her and gives her a quick hug before saying, "Lydia, thank you for everything you did to save my son. You're welcome here anytime, you know. And I'm going to insist that from now on, when you smartly get your mom out of town when something dangerous is going on or when she leaves for any other reason, you either stay with someone or at the very least let us know you're home alone so I can have a squad car patrol your street."
"I suppose I can agree to that," Lydia responds and she almost feels like crying again because she can tell that he's not just saying the words, he actually cares. Her own father hasn't even called her in two months.
Stiles tries to insist that she take his bed and that he'd take the futon in his dad's office, but she wins that argument with a simple reminder of which one of them almost died and therefore needed better rest. She's pretty sure she intimidated him into finally agreeing to not give up his own bed for her, but whatever works, right?
She gets ready for bed and what's weird is how it's not weird. She feels oddly comfortable in the Stilinski home. Although it's probably just exhaustion. It has been more than 48 hours since she slept, she realizes as her head finally hits the pillow.
As soon as she closes her eyes, she can't stop seeing Aiden laying there on the ground. Or feeling Alison dying. And her eyes snap open. She tries to block out all thoughts, but she's failing miserably. She can't stop thinking about everything that's lost and she's cried so much over all of it that she's starting to fear she'll soon be dehydrated.
She needs to figure out a way to deal with this for the moment because she needs to sleep. She needs to figure out a way to continue to function, to live.
She thinks that a reminder of what she didn't lose might help. He's probably asleep, but that's all right, as long as she doesn't wake him.
Lydia actively stops herself from thinking about what she's doing too much. If she really thinks about it she'd worry about the fact that she washed her face free from make up and might be seen without it if he's awake, or she might worry about the implications of what wanting to see him in a moment like this might mean.
She taps on his door first, to see if he's still awake. She's surprised when he opens the door and she notices that two lamps are still on and he appeared to be in the middle of taking stuff down from his walls.
"Hey, is everything all right?" he asks worriedly.
Instead of answering, she returns, "Why weren't you sleeping? After everything you've been through you need to rest."
"I was just-" he begins with a gesture to a wall that's still completely covered.
"That can wait," she orders firmly.
"But-"
"No. Go to bed. Go to sleep," she orders.
"I just-"
"No." she cuts him off again. He looks seriously pissed at her, but she doesn't care (at least he looks like himself, thank God).
He half sighs, half grumbles, "Fine." He begins to head toward one of the lamps, but stops half way there, pivots back to face her and asks with a tilt of his head, "Wait. Why aren't you asleep? You've had to have been awake for like two days now with the Nogitsune kidnapping you and spending last night at the station. And why are you here instead of trying to sleep?"
She narrows her eyes at him for a second, hating that he was so perceptive. But then she realizes that she would have missed that, had tonight gone the way they all thought it would. And what she came here for in the first place was to know he was okay. "I needed to check and make sure you were okay. I keep seeing them. I keep feeling them dying and I kept feeling that about you too…and after-"
He was across the room and hugging her in the blink of an eye, cutting off her worries with comfort.
Normally, she hates feeling vulnerable (it always leads to heartbreak in her experience), but she doesn't feel like she'd regret it now like she always has in the past. She asks, face partially smushed against his chest, "Can I stay with you?"
She feels him tense slightly, but he doesn't hesitate to say yes, release her, turn off the lights. He does hesitate again though. She claims the left side of his bed, which leaves the easy-to-access right for him, but yet he hesitates climbing into it. It takes her sighing in clear agitation to prompt him to finally lie down.
After a considerable amount of silence (though oddly not awkwardness), Stiles whispers, "I'm so sorry Lydia."
"For what?" she returns, genuinely confused.
"For everything," he says, and she can tell that there's more that he needs to say so she waits. It only takes half a beat of silence for him to continue, "If I had understood your message, Alison wouldn't have been there, she couldn't have been killed. I know I was supposed to get it, I'm the other 'smart one,' and I failed. "
"I'm sorry for not being strong enough to shut the door. If I had been able to it would have never been able to get through. There wouldn't have been a Nogitsune and no one would have been hurt. No one would have died. You wouldn't have been terrorized for the better part of a day. And I wouldn't have blood on my hands."
"Stiles," she begins very seriously, "I thought you were smarter than everything you just said." She turns to face him and explains, "Nothing that happened was your fault. I had no idea if anyone would even hear the things I was trying to convey so no, that message was not meant for you. I had no idea at that point if you were still alive or not even, so really, it couldn't have been meant for you. Even if you had understood it, we both know Alison would rush into any situation, despite the danger, as long as she thought she could keep people safe. There wouldn't have been a way to stop her from coming. And you do not have anyone's death, or pain, or blood on your hands. You are not the Nogitsune. It was not you. I know. As you said, I spent the day with it, and, trust me, it's not you, not at all."
"But I made the choice to let it in. So all that blood, it is on my hands," Stiles confesses. "It wasn't just that I was weak. In the end, when it really took over, it was because I chose to let it in. It had my roommate about to kill Malia and I let it in to stop it. I made that choice. Everything that happened afterward was my fault."
(What Stiles will marvel at later is that Lydia doesn't even blink at his confession. There's no widening of her eyes in surprise, there's no doubt, not even the slightest change in the way she's looking at him.)
"It's still not your fault, and if you continue to think it is, you're a moron," she declares. She explains, "You did everything right. You did everything a good person would do. Not everyone would choose to let some evil thing take over their mind to save one innocent person from killing another but you did. You chose to let it do it's worst to you, not knowing what that was, because you are courageous and good and nothing that the Nogitsune did is your fault because you made the choice lesser people never would have made."
He's silent for a long time after that (well, a long time for Stiles to be silent, not so much by other peoples' standards). He just stares at her. It starts to get a little unnerving after a minute, but she's certainly not going to be the one to look away first. Quitting isn't in her nature.
Eventually, so quiet she's almost unsure if she heard it, she hears him say, "Thank you," his voice tinged with heavy emotions.
After another few minutes of silence (during which she still hasn't looked away, she's still staring right back at him) he declares, "If I can't blame myself for…everything, then you can't blame yourself for Aiden."
She has no idea how he managed to deduce that she completely blames herself for Aiden's death, especially since he had been completely out of the loop (socially speaking) due to the whole Nogitsune thing. "I can blame myself, it's my fault. He was only fighting because he was trying to be good because I told him that's what I wanted," she reasons.
"Is that what you wanted?" he questions, "Even if he joined the Peace Corps or became Mystic Falls very own caped crusader, saving innocent people, would you want to be with him? Did you promise him you would be his girlfriend if he became a good person?"
"Not exactly," she admits, "I just told him I wanted to be with someone good, and that wasn't him."
"That sounds like you rejected him," Stiles says, clearly thinking out loud.
"Yeah, but I did still flirt with him after that," Lydia adds, "I couldn't help myself, he was still really attractive."
"Yeah, but flirting doesn't mean anything. Lydia, he might have thought he was changing for you, but you made it clear it wasn't what you wanted. And despite what he and Ethan did to Boyd, I think they really were good people. They just got lost for a while. Helping out, trying to be our friends, it was their way of getting back to the guys they should have turned into," Stiles tries to assure.
Lydia knows that Stiles has a point. She didn't believe that Aiden and his brother were inherently bad guys, but everything Stiles said doesn't change the most important thing. "But he still wouldn't have been there tonight if it wasn't for me," she points out and she can't help the water gathering in her eyes at the memory of seeing him laying there, dying in his brother's arms.
"You didn't tell him to be, you didn't even ask him to be there. He chose it. If I can't be responsible for the choices and actions of the evil Japanese spirit that possessed me, you can't be responsible for the choices other people make," he tries, finding the logic in the issue because he knows Lydia and knows how she thinks.
Well, if Stiles is going to link his guilt with hers, she supposes she has no other way to respond (and to attempt to believe in for real), "I guess that's a decent point." She tries to rationalize what Stiles said in her head. She didn't tell Aiden anything and she wasn't leading him on. If he did anything for her (like even get a tattoo for instance), why would it be her fault when she had been fairly clear?
She knows that's a logical deduction of the situation.
She feels guilty anyway.
She voices the thought that had been haunting the back of her mind since all of this started, "Maybe if I had been a better anchor, none of this would have happened."
"How could you have been a better anchor?" Stiles asks, genuinely confused. "I mean, nothing invaded Scott's mind and Deaton was a terrible anchor. That guy was hardly around. He went to another country without telling any of us and got information that we learned from one conversation with Kira's mom. Talk about an anchor that could have done a better job, it was definitely that guy. And besides making out with Alison, what did Isaac really do?"
"Their relationship progressed beyond making out," Lydia lets slip. The conversation with Alison about that particular development was their last truly good moment- amid complete chaos as usual- so she can't help bringing it up.
"Oh…that's…that's too much information," Stiles says uncomfortably, but then he gets that mischievous glint in his eye and quickly continues, "Though if that's what you had in mind, as far as doing more as my anchor, well who knows whether or not I'm completely safe now. I wouldn't object to a little more…anchoring."
She shoves him lightly as he laughs and denies, "That is definitely not what I was thinking." She laughs a little with him, relieved that she's hearing him laugh again.
After he stops laughing she confesses, "I just feel like all I did was scream and try and find dead people. What did I really do to save you when you were having those nightmares?"
"Well now it's my turn to think that you were smarter than the things you just said," Stiles responds, echoing her earlier statement. He reaches across the foot between them and takes her hand (without hesitation, she notes), "Lydia, you're the reason I'm back here at all. When I was having those nightmares and couldn't read, it was your belief in me- and ordering me to just get through it- that allowed me to break that. That allowed me to shut that door in my mind as much as I could. Maybe I just wasn't meant to shut it anymore or maybe that never mattered in the first place. Who knows? But you brought me back then and endured Scott's werewolf nails in your skull to bring me back from the Nogitsune-"
"That was Scott-"
"It was both of you. He couldn't have done it without you," he holds her eyes for another second, but then he looks away. He slowly strokes the hand he's holding, almost distractedly, and he adds, his tone much lower than before, "You're the best anchor a guy could have. I know how lucky I am that you're mine."
(At the moment, she'll attribute her difficulty swallowing and increased heart rate to the absolutely insane day (days) she had had.
Later, she knows better.)
She finds her voice a couple of beats of silence later (soft hand stroking had continued) and says in a tone that is thankfully completely normal, "You should be sleeping."
"Right," he says, seeming to snap out of some sort of trance as he quickly pulls his hand from hers and makes sure he's fully on his side of the bed.
After a few minutes of silence, she thinks he's started to fall asleep when he suddenly asks, "Hey, you said your aunt had her baby. What did your aunt name her or him?"
"Sabrina," Lydia answers with a smile, "She liked the movies and the poem."
"Sabrina," he repeats, "good choice." He lets out a big yawn as he asks, "You'll show me a picture of her in the morning?"
Again, Lydia smiles, glad that they will both have a morning. "Yeah, of course," she promises, knowing it was a promise she would be able to keep. For tonight, they were both okay.
-o-o-o-
In the morning Lydia wakes up to find herself using Stiles as a pillow. She also finds that it's rather early, but she can't fall back to sleep. She might not have slept much in the last few days, but she knows a little bit about dealing with grief (not really from experience, she's just very well read). She needs a distraction.
She carefully disentangles herself from Stiles and tries to leave his room quietly (though she'll later find he can sleep through just about any level of noise so her being stealthy was unnecessary). She takes a shower, does her hair and make up as usual, gets dressed, and since she needs something else to do, she helps herself to the kitchen and begins making breakfast.
She knew that going out into the rest of the house rather than just staying in the den/guest room/Sherriff's home office would mean she'd likely encounter the Sherriff and it would be just the two of them alone since Stiles should not be up yet and if he tries getting up in the next few hours she's ordering him right back to bed because he needs his rest. She expects it to be weird whenever the Sherriff finds her using his kitchen and it absolutely is.
He walks into his kitchen in his uniform after she's been there for a half-hour and he looks like he forgot for a minute that she had stayed the night with them.
"Good morning Sherriff," she greets politely. "I hope you don't mind, I made breakfast as a thank you for letting me stay here," she quickly explains herself, feeling like she needs to.
"I don't mind at all," he says as he heads straight for the coffee, "I'm particularly glad you've already got coffee made. Waiting the few minutes for it to brew was going to be brutal this morning."
She sees him initially reach for a thermos, but then he grabs a mug. He probably usually just grabs coffee and leaves for work, she realizes, and now because she made breakfast he probably feels obligated to stay.
"Stiles didn't mention that you cook," he says conversationally. Though there's also something else to it, like he already knows a lot about her from Stiles. Given what she knows about Stiles and his (previous?) feelings for her, she shouldn't be surprised about that.
"I don't. Or at least I've never really cooked much before," she says as she finishes putting her food on a plate. She places it in front of the Sherriff and says, "Stiles once mentioned something about you having high cholesterol and I saw a recipe for these egg white, spinach, tomato, and a bit of cheddar cheese in one of those health oriented magazines at the hospital…last year, I think, so I just worked with that."
She makes a plate for herself as he asks her, "You've never made this before?"
"No," she answers as she sits down across from him at his kitchen table.
"Well Lydia, if I knew that the healthy food Stiles has been trying to force on me could taste like this, I wouldn't have fought him on eating healthy so much." He adds with a smile, "It's delicious."
She lets out a relieved breath and a small, "Good," before taking a bite herself. It was super difficult to scrounge anything up in the Stilinski home. She's glad she pulled this off.
As he's taking another bite, his omelet quickly disappearing, he checks, "And you made this from a recipe you had just read once?"
Her mouth is full so Lydia nods in response.
"Wow. Well, I guess that shouldn't surprise me. Stiles is always telling me how you're a genius and that kind of memory must really help with that," he compliments kindly.
Lydia knows the Sherriff's intentions were good, but she can't help but be reminded of the downside of her brain. "Yeah, sometimes," she responds solemnly, "but then, sometimes, it really sucks to remember things so sharply."
He hesitates, but the Sherriff puts his fork down (on an empty plate, Lydia notices- he really inhaled that breakfast), and reaches across the table, gently laying a hand over one of hers. (It's awkward, but he seems determined.) "I'm not going to tell you it'll hurt less eventually, because it might never hurt less. But it will get easier to deal with. I promise, it will get easier to move forward," he claims honestly. He didn't know anything about comforting a teenaged girl, but he knew quite a lot about loss and grief. He knew nothing he said would make her feel any better in this moment, but he wanted her to know that no matter how great the loss, feeling better was an eventuality that would come to pass.
"Thank you," she manages thickly, barely keeping tears at bay. Given what he had lost, Lydia was inclined to believe he was right.
He pats her hand once, offers her a smile, and picks up his plate as he stands and says, "I've got to get in to work. I know you'll watch after Stiles today." He rinses his plate (and leaves it in the sink, by the state of the sink, she thinks that's a habit) and adds, "Try to make sure he rests as much as possible. I doubt he slept much while the Nogitsune was in him and I know he was barely sleeping for weeks before that."
"I know. He's going to stay in bed until you get off work. I don't plan on giving him any other options," Lydia promises.
"Good," he responds with a slight chuckle as he pours himself a thermos full of coffee. "Your mom's not supposed to be back until tomorrow, right?"
"Right," she confirms, suddenly realizing that though she had thought far enough ahead to make plans of how to force Stiles into resting today, she had no idea what she was going to do come tonight. (And the whole idea of tonight and what she could do, like be at home all alone with nothing to do but think of what- who- was lost, terrified her.)
"Well, I know you may really want to go home, and I know it may not be my place to ask this, but I'd really feel a lot better if you were here…or somewhere else with an adult. I know the whole Nogitsune thing is supposedly over now, but… this isn't the safest of towns," the Sherriff explains, but he's stuttering slightly by his last sentence, seeming to struggle to adequately express or explain his concern.
Lydia decides to save him from trying to come up with any more of an explanation and adds, "That's an understatement." He chuckles slightly in agreement and she continues, "As nice as home sounds, it sounds less appealing to be in an empty home… after everything. So I really appreciate the offer to stay here and I'll probably take you up on it. And thank you for letting me stay last night as well."
"Anytime," he says with a smile, and really means it (he hopes she knows that). He leaves for work feeling at ease for the first time in weeks.
Lydia, meanwhile, prepares things for when Stiles wakes up and then decides that the best place to be to know when he wakes up (and force him to go back to sleep) is his bedroom. It's not creepy of her to sit in his room while he's asleep, right?
-o-o-o-
Stiles wakes up three hours after his father left for work. He's surprised that when he opens his eyes, Lydia's sitting in his desk chair, feet up on his desk, doing her nails. And all of his comic books appear to be stacked on the floor next to her.
Despite the fact that her attention has not strayed from her nails, she somehow knows just what he's looking at and thinking because she addresses the questions in his head, "I hope you don't mind that I borrowed them. I was looking for something to read and I wanted something light and fun as a distraction and they were all I found. Except for Harry Potter, but I've read those and these were new to me."
She finishes her last nail and adds, "They were good. I can see why so many people are obsessed with comics. I think I liked the Batman ones best."
"Yeah, they're my favorite too," Stiles responds, feeling fairly surreal. Is this another dream? Is Lydia back to being in his dreams? And if so is it like she was before the whole dying thing when she was just his dream girl or after when she was warning him of danger in his very vivid nightmares? It kind of feels like the first one given that they're having a conversation about comic books, but monstrous things could always pop out at any second.
Lydia blows on her nails a little, impatient for them to dry, and turns to Stiles, "You need to eat something and then go back to sleep. You're severely sleep deprived and your father and I agreed that you need to spend as much time today resting as possible."
Stiles' brow wrinkles in confusion. "Huh. That doesn't help me figure out if this is a dream or a nightmare." He didn't realize he said that out loud until he sees it register on Lydia's face. And given her expression and how it's not one he's ever seen on her in a dream or nightmare, he's guessing this is real. Last night is starting to come back to him so her being here is making a bit more sense. "Kidding," he adds hastily.
Lydia simply walks out of the room, which makes Stiles panic. What the hell is going on?
Lydia however, just left to get his breakfast. Of course he just had to wake up when her nails were wet. She had hesitated in doing them (though they had been neglected for far too long as of late) because she figured this would happen. It was a little more challenging cooking him something to eat with her wet nails, but she managed (and only ruined one nail in the process). She knew Stiles was worried about his dream/nightmare comment, which is why she chose to walk out silently. Someone had to help Stiles realize he needed to filter what thoughts he vocalized better.
(Plus the whole comment kind of threw her. She expected that he'd be a bit disoriented this morning. That he might not remember that she had spent the night there or that he might not have expected her to still be there. But she didn't expect him to wake up and look at her like he had been. To imply that she had appeared in both his dreams and nightmares. Oddly, it was the implication that she appeared in his dreams that was causing most of her apprehension.)
Lydia pushed all emotions down and returned to Stiles' room with a plate of pancakes and a cup of orange juice. She wanted to include fruit in his meal (for a more balanced breakfast) as she had wanted to with the breakfast she had made for herself and the Sherriff, but couldn't find any in the house. She had made a mental note to try and fix the obviously poor diet of the Stilinski men.
As she hands Stiles the plate, Lydia comments, "It was really hard to find much edible in your kitchen. I barely managed to find anything to make your dad and this was the only other thing you had. You really need to shop more often. And buy more fruit and vegetables."
"Yeah, groceries haven't been much of a priority with everything going on," Stiles replies wryly as he digs in to the pancakes.
"By what's rotting in your refrigerator, it's pretty obvious that healthy food hasn't been much of a priority here for a while," Lydia returns as she drags Stiles' desk chair next to his bed.
With a full mouth, Stiles responds with a roll of his eyes, "Well getting my dad to stick to a diet for his high cholesterol is really hard. Especially since he does most of the shopping."
"I got him to eat a low cholesterol breakfast with pretty much no effort this morning," Lydia brags.
"Seriously?" Stiles questions with a once again full mouth, "I usually have to not so gently remind him that I've already lost one parent and can't lose another before he begrudgingly eats something healthy."
"That seems a bit extreme," Lydia comments.
"I know, but he's really stubborn," Stiles agrees. He takes a big drink of the orange juice and adds, "And you should know that I get that from him so even though you said I'm going back to sleep, I'm not."
Lydia simply smiles at him, which makes Stiles very, very nervous.
He looks down at the mostly finished pancakes and the mostly finished glass of orange juice and asks warily, "What did you do?"
"The orange juice didn't taste funny to you at all?" Lydia questions.
"Well, yeah, but like everything else in our fridge, I just figured it was nearing its expiration," Stiles explains. Then he realizes what was going on and asks, "Did you put a sleeping pill in the orange juice?"
"No," Lydia denies, "I put several sleeping pills in your orange juice." At Stiles' worried look she adds innocently, "Well, I couldn't be sure how much of it you'd drink and I needed to make sure you'd go back to sleep."
"You drugged me!" Stiles accuses, flabbergasted.
"You need to rest," Lydia defends. "Now you'll sleep for a bit longer and when you wake up your dad will be home from work and then Scott and his mom will be stopping by. I've already talked to him. He wanted to come by sooner, but he totally agreed with my plan for you to rest today. You need it. And it's preferable that you do it today because it's Saturday and you've already missed a bunch of school."
Lydia realizes she's rambling and stops and sighs. "I don't know why I'm explaining myself. You would have done the same thing in my position."
Stiles' frustrated/angry face finally begins to melt as he considers what she said. He runs a tired hand over his face and agrees, "Yeah, you're probably right about that." He sighs, resigned, and asks, "How long is this supposed to take to work?"
"I have no idea," Lydia admits, "I'm not sure how strong the pills are that I found at the bottom of my purse and in your medicine cabinet."
"You went through our medicine cabinet?" Stiles questions. He realizes the "giving him pills she obviously wasn't that familiar with" thing is probably what he should be most concerned with. But he already drank the orange juice and he'd trust Lydia with his life so he's really not worried.
"Mmhmm," she confirms, "don't worry, there's nothing to be embarrassed about in there." She starts playing with the one finger nail whose polish got ruined while she was making him breakfast and adds nonchalantly, "Besides, I'd be more concerned with the fact that I went on your computer…and may have stumbled into your history."
(Honestly, she was curious if the Nogitsune had used it for anything and if that could give her any insight into an evil spirit- which, given their lives, could prove to be very useful for them. It was clearly Stiles who used the computer last though so her search was fruitless.)
He opens and shuts his mouth a few times before he finally comes up with, "Well… you know… the Nogitsune was the last one to use it. It probably went on all kinds of sites that I would never-"
"Relax," she cuts him off, deciding to ease his clear misery, "Either you're usually very good about covering your tracks or you have far less porn your computer than most teenaged guys. I've been on a lot of computers, I think I'm a fairly good judge." She hesitates but forces the words out of her mouth before she changes her mind, "And you're the only guy I've ever seen who has a folder of pictures of his mom on his desktop. Which is actually pretty sweet."
Stiles ducks his head and pretends to rub his face with both his hands in frustration, but he's actually hiding the blush he knows he has because Lydia Martin just called him sweet. After he's fairly confident the blush has faded he looks up at her, to find her no longer preoccupied with her nails but looking at him, and declares, "Well, since you just invaded my privacy and found out- probably several- embarrassing things about me, you owe me an embarrassing secret. So come on, spill."
Lydia hadn't considered that very logical response when she decided to let Stiles know the rest of the things she had done while he was sleeping. She really should have been smart enough to know that this would be his response though. Her thought process seems to be off today (as most evident by the last thing she told him and by what she's now considering confessing) and she doesn't want to even begin to think about why. She opens her mouth and promptly snaps it shut, reconsidering the secret she was about to divulge. But oddly her mind is blank, not coming up with anything else despite the fact that she thinks she's going to regret divulging this particular secret. "Okay," she begins slowly, still hoping that in her pause she'll think of anything else to say. But nothing comes to her. So she pushes forward, diverting her gaze for him as she admits, "I watched Firefly and Serenity a few years ago and I enjoyed it so much that now, every year on June 23rd- Joss Whedon's birthday- I re-watch the whole series and the movie. And I plan on doing the same thing every year in the foreseeable future too."
After several seconds of silence on Stiles' part after her confession, Lydia chances a glance at him and finds him staring at her. Her eyes meeting his seem to spur him out of his stupor. Completely entranced still he declares, "That is the hottest thing I've ever heard a girl say."
There's a- no, Lydia pushes all feelings away and forces herself to maintain eye contact as she responds dryly, "You should socialize more. A lot more."
"Yeah, probably," he agrees, brushing off her comment. His voice is hopeful as he asks, "Lydia, I've got to ask you something very important. Have you seen Star Wars?"
"Which one?" she's quick to respond.
"Any of them," he responds quickly, excited that she knew there was more than one. That already meant she knew more than Scott.
She should probably lie. But Stiles looks so excited and it was such a nice change to see him look like himself. She just can't help wanting him to continue to be…Stiles, she missed it, missed him. So she tells him, barely containing a smile because she knows he's going to be happy about this, "I've seen all of them."
His face lights up like he's just been told he's won the lottery.
After a few beats of Stiles starting at her slack-jawed, Lydia decides to put an end to his stupefied state and this whole interaction. (Talking to him was starting to feel…well, she didn't want it to continue long enough for her to come up with an accurate adjective to finish that thought.) She clears her throat and says, "You should really be getting back to sleep though. If you try to give in to the sleeping pills instead of fighting them, then when you wake up I'll tell you which of the movies I hated and why."
"You hated The Phantom Menace most because it was so incredibly poorly written and such a huge disappointment," Stiles answers as if it's obvious.
That was actually exactly right. But Stiles should be sleeping so instead of admitting that and probably leading them down a path of stimulating conversation, Lydia simply says, "And when you wake up you can find out if you're right."
"I'm right," Stiles immediately responds confidently, "I could tell you were just thinking that I was right."
Damn him. He's actually smirking. So Lydia lets out a frustrated huff and doesn't bother denying he's right. Instead she tries, "Please just try to go to sleep. Don't fight the pills."
She didn't deny he was right, which means he was right. He looks smug as he agrees, "Fine." Then, though the pills are totally kicking in and he knows he won't be awake for much longer, he realizes there's something he needs before he goes back to sleep. "I will go to sleep, I won't even try to fight the pills at all," Stiles begins, "but only after you fulfill the promise you made to me last night."
Oh God. Did she talk in her sleep or something? Lydia immediately panics, drawing a blank on what he could be referring to.
"You said you'd show me a picture of your new cousin," he supplies, though he didn't actually notice her confusion because he's really, really feeling those pills now.
"Oh, right," Lydia responds, relieved. She stands immediately and retrieves her phone from his desk. She begins looking for the pictures her mom sent her and notices that Stiles has laid back down in his bed, he seems to be getting ready to go to sleep. If she stalls enough in finding a picture to show him, he would probably fall asleep in a few minutes. But she understands why he wants to see a picture of her cousin, why he wants this to happen before he goes back to sleep, so she picks the picture she thinks is cutest and walks back over to him.
(He needed there to be a connection between the last time he was awake and this one. He needed there to be a thread he could trace from one moment to the next, to ensure that these moments were indeed connected, that his life was really his again.)
Lydia walks to the side of his bed and holds the phone out for him to see. She tells him, "This is when she was a little less than a day old."
His eyes were heavy, but he managed to snap them back open to look at the picture. "She looks like you," he says, without taking his eyes off the screen.
(He smiles as he looks at the picture on the screen, she notes.)
His eyes begin to drift shut as he adds sleepily, "She's beautiful."
Lydia's breath catches and it's so still and silent in this moment that she can't ignore that, that just happened. He complimented her (and only indirectly!) and it made her feel…dizzy, breathless, lightheaded (panicked).
She stands there, her phone very loosely in her grip and still held out toward Stiles, for nearly three minutes after he said what he did and fell asleep. At the end of the three minutes, she swallows thickly, clears her throat, and forcefully pushes all the thoughts out of her head. She sits down, putting the chair back at the desk, and picks up one of the few comics she had yet to read. It takes a lot of effort to concentrate on the words and images, but she manages. She couldn't let herself think of anything other than Batman's latest villain. She couldn't handle anything else right now.
(Because if something was going on with her- which it absolutely wasn't, nothing from today or last night meant anything- what she really needed was Allison.
But that wasn't possible.
So nothing was happening here. Nothing at all.)
-o-o-o-
The next time Stiles wakes up, it's four hours later and he's starving.
Lydia isn't in his room anymore and he wonders if she left. He wouldn't blame her if she did. Today couldn't have been an easy day for her. Her best friend and quasi-ex were just killed and with just him there sleeping the day away in a silent house, she probably found not thinking about those two things impossible.
But when Stiles begins to descend the stairs he realizes he never should have even thought that Lydia might leave. She's far too loyal and strong (and stubborn) to give up like that. When he sees what she's doing though, he's a bit concerned.
"Having trouble deciding if you should watch The Bachelor?" he questions as he descends the last few steps. When he comes around the couch he notices that her eyes are watery. He sits down next to her gently.
"Oh, I wasn't expecting you to be up yet. I guess the pills weren't as strong as I thought," she responds, surprised by his sudden presence (she hadn't heard him open his door or come down the stairs). She looks away from him and tries to blink away the water that had been gathering in her eyes.
She clears her throat and tells him, "Your dad called. He was supposed to be back in another hour, but there's been a lot of stuff to deal with today so he's going to be about an hour late. And Scott and his mom won't be coming by until after Mrs. McCall gets off work and then they'll probably have dinner before they head over so it's going to be a while before they're here."
"Okay," Stiles responds calmly. He's not sure he's ever heard Lydia ramble like she just did (angrily rant sure, but ramble not so much). He's not quite sure what to do. He knows this is probably not a topic she wants to talk about, but he wants her to be able to talk to him about it and he really needs to know anyway. So he asks tentatively, "Have you heard from Mr. Argent?"
"I called. He hasn't started making any plans yet," she says succinctly. She hopes he gets that that means the funeral won't be soon because she's not sure she get those words out yet. She bites her lip and forces out, "And I guess there's going to be something small for Aiden tomorrow night. Ethan didn't say how he got the money for a proper…burial, and I didn't ask, but it seems like he's having an actual… it's tomorrow night."
So their first funeral would be in about twenty-four hours (and, sadly, it wouldn't be their last).
It dawns on Stiles then, why she was hesitating. "You were going to watch that with Allison, weren't you?" Stiles asks with a gesture to the on-demand program waiting to be played on the screen.
She nods in response. "She hates- hated- shows like this, but she had seen part of the last season with me and we both thought that this guy was a terrible choice as the Bachelor. He seems like a jackass. And we were going to watch to see if we were right in thinking that. But we've had so much going on lately we missed the first two episodes of the season. We were supposed to catch up as soon as everything calmed down," Lydia tells him, and she can't believe how even her voice sounds as she says it. She chuckles sadly, "I don't know why I've been hesitating to watch it. I don't need to wait for her to watch it anymore. She's gone."
He takes her hand in his and he's not sure what else to do. This might be the wrong thing to do, but he offers, "I'll watch it with you." Her eyes snap to his and he can tell she's surprised by the offer. He decides to keep with this idea and elaborates, as he glances to read the description on the screen, "Yeah, watching…Juan Pablo on his…'adventura' sounds great. I'm totally in."
She gives him a watery smile, squeezes his hand that's holding hers, and quietly says, "Thank you."
"Anytime," he promises, smiling in return.
She's really glad she has someone to go through this with. But before she can begin watching it a thought occurs to her that she can't help but voice (even though she'd kind of like to get this experience over with), "But maybe before we start watching it you should go take a shower."
"Oh, right," Stiles realizes, "good call." He promptly jumps up from the couch and promises, "I'll be right back. Just give me like five minutes."
"Please take a longer to shower than five minutes," Lydia replies, really hoping he listens to her. To give him a bit of incentive to actually take the time to get thoroughly clean (and because it was something she had been waiting to do until he got up) she says, "Actually, while you're in the shower I should run out and get some food. You really don't have anything here and you must be hungry."
"Yeah, good idea," he agrees, "Can you get me some Hot Cheetos? They sound really good right now."
"Sure," Lydia replies as she stands up from the couch and slips her shoes back on.
"Thanks," Stiles says. As he's heading up the stairs he adds, "The keys to the Jeep are on the table by the door."
She stops for a second, surprised. She had thought she'd walk to the nearest convenience store. Stiles' Jeep was very important to him and she didn't expect him to let her drive it so casually. But on the plus side, now that she had a car to use, she could go to the grocery store and get some healthier food to stock the house with. The Stilinski men might not actually eat any of it, but she'd feel better knowing she had at least left them with the option.
-o-o-o-
An hour later, Lydia and Stiles are on his couch eating Hot Cheetos and apple slices and watching Juan Pablo give the first impression rose to what appeared to be the craziest woman at his first cocktail party.
"Huh, that seems like the worst move he could have made," Stiles comments.
"Though the most appropriate given his clear lack of intelligence," Lydia rationalizes.
At the next commercial break, Stiles finally musters up the courage to say something he'd been wanting to since he told her he'd watch this with her. "Hey," he begins, which gets her to turn to him, her eyes meeting his. And despite the fact that her eyes are quite distracting, he manages to not lose track of his objective and continues, "Any time you…want someone to watch something with, just let me know. I'll always be around."
He was so sincere and serious, she knew that he was saying more than he was literally saying. He was offering to be around any time she needed anyone, anytime she needed someone to fill in for Allison. It was quite possibly the sweetest gesture anyone had ever made for her. So she smiles, takes his hand, and leans against his side as she says, "Thank you." And she hopes he knows that she means a lot more than she just literally said too.
When Sherriff Stilinski comes home an hour and a half later (yes, he's later than he said he'd be) his son is asleep on the couch and Lydia is asleep on his shoulder. There's also an accented man on the TV leering at a bunch of women. These being just the latest elements of a very strange day.
(Tomorrow night, he'll hold her hand as she quietly cries at Aiden's small funeral gathering.
Tuesday morning, she'll cry violently in his arms as he tears up too at Allison's funeral. Her mom will be standing by her side, but she'll turn to Stiles for comfort. And she won't think about why she did that for a very, very long time.)
Thank you for reading!
The next installment will also take place before 4x01, it will involve the holidays (because I think they're past the halfway mark of the school year by this point? If you have any info on this, please share), and, oddly, more mentions of Joss Whedon.
Please leave a review if you feel so inclined.