Buried in a nest of strawberry blonde hair, Stiles awoke with Lydia nestled into his chest as pounded the alarm clock. Back to the real world. He thought. It was his first day back at the Police Academy. He had taken a sick leave to deal with the pregnancy. Part of him felt bad leaving Lydia by herself, but she would resent him if he put his life on hold. Becoming a deputy was no longer about following in his father's footsteps, but now it was his chance to make something of himself after the war.
He and Scott had enlisted after high school. Scott saw it as a way to make a difference and a way to pay for vet school. Stiles, on the other hand, needed to belong to something after Lydia dumped him. He didn't know what he was going to do after high school. He couldn't afford to go to a good school. His grades suffered after the split. He lost his scholarships. He needed some direction. Scott had depended on Stiles since they were in elementary school. Stiles needed his best friend, so they served their time. He and Scott had made a pact that they wouldn't let the war change them entirely.
They looked after each other. Stiles kept that ring on his dog tags. He had faith they would find their way back to each other. She kept him going. Out there you latch on to anything you can…you find your anchor. Stiles was Scott's anchor.
They didn't talk about what happened out there. Their bond kept them sane. Scott had made it into vet school. Stiles had gotten his degree in Criminology. Lydia had gone to graduate school. Stiles knew that if they were meant to be they would make it back to each other… and they did. But, he still had the dreams. The nightmares reminding him of his time.
Stiles had been captured during his time in duty. It took Scott days to find him. Stiles had the bullet wounds and scars to prove it. The ones on his face had faded but the ones in his chest and back were clear as day.
But, Lydia had to mourn the death of her mother alone. Everyone had left her. She didn't blame them, but it didn't change the facts. That's when she started spending time with Melissa and the Sheriff. They looked out for her, helped her pack up her mom's stuff. Still, she couldn't imagine what Scott and Stiles went through out there.
In the present:
Stiles started to work his way out of the bed, paying careful attention not to wake Lydia. Stiles's stuff was still in boxes. He shuffled around the living room downstairs to find the box titled "Academy". Once he found it he took a shower in the downstairs bathroom, so he wouldn't wake her.
Upstairs, Lydia felt around for Stiles's silhouette and found an empty bed. She woke up and brushed her teeth. Afterwards, she walked out to the kitchen downstairs and heard the shower. She started breakfast. She made pancakes, eggs, toast, bacon, basically an entire breakfast buffet, while sucking on a while drinking raspberry tea to calm her stomach. Lydia was thankful for the herbs Deaton had given her to cope with the nausea. After she finished cooking, Stiles walked out the bathroom.
"Lydia." He called walking with the towel wrapped around his waist.
"Morning, deputy." She replied.
"I thought you were sleeping. I tried to be extra quiet."
"I know… I just felt you weren't in bed and woke up."
"By the size of this breakfast, I see that Deaton's magic herbs are working."
"So, do you like?" she says gesturing to her breakfast trays.
"Yes. Thank you." He said, sealing it with a kiss."
"Any big plans today?"
"Yes, actually. Since, you want to get married before the baby is born. I am going dress shopping today."
"Are you sure you want to get married the quickly? I want to get married before the baby is born but I want even more for you to have your dream wedding."
"Well, what if we have a small wedding with our families and then a vow renewal after the baby is born."
"If you want?" Stiles replies, half-heartedly.
"See this way, I can plan a small ceremony before I start showing and then get the big dress later."
"Your wish is my command, Lyds. Crap. I have to go. Love You." He kisses her and darts out the door.