Chapter 10

There was nothing more terrifying than waking up in a hospital bed alone. His eyes fluttered open and he took a look around the room. He assumed he was at Beacon Hills Hospital, which was both a blessing and a curse. His mind was cloudy as he tried to remember the events leading up to this moment. Sadly, he couldn't even remember what he had for breakfast. He tried to sit up in bed, but he couldn't move. Thick brown straps covered his wrists and ankles holding them in place. He was in the most uncomfortable position imaginable. He rolled his wrists and tried to shimmy out of the confines, but his hands were too big. His efforts in escaping only caused him more discomfort and pain. Why was he restrained in the first place? He was on the verge of a full on panic attack when he heard the door knob turn slightly.

His father walked in and Stiles let out a long frustrated sigh, "I'm so happy to see you."

He smiled and watched as his dad walked over to his side. He noticed the dark circles under the sheriff's eyes.

"I'm glad you're awake son, you gave us all a scare." He placed a hand on Stiles shoulder and gave him a weak smile.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Stiles ask, his mind full of unanswered questions.

"Malia was here at the hospital and you came to check on her. There was a power outage, and when the lights came back on they found you passed out at the front desk."

"Dad, I'm okay...really." Stiles assured him. His eyes darted down to his hands, "Can you tell them to take these off?"

The Sheriff avoided his gaze and walked to the window across from the hospital bed.

"What's going on? Why am I strapped to the bed….I don't understand."
Stiles jerked up against the the straps and shook the bed. He was annoyed with his father's silence, and knew there was more. There was something the sheriff wasn't telling him. The only other time he had been tied down was when the Nogitsune was possessing his body.

"It's me dad, your son, Stiles!" He screamed out, raising his back off the bed.

The sheriff turned around to look at Stiles, his eyes filled with sadness.

"You were out cold. Melissa had them take you back to the ER. They couldn't find your pulse for five minutes. Stiles, they thought you were dead, and then you woke up."

"Dad, I'm sorry that I scared…."

Before he could finish the sheriff interrupted, "You were trying to fight them off. They had to sedate you to get you to calm down."

"I don't remember that." Stiles answered confused.

"You have been here for three days. The first time you woke up, you tried to hurt yourself." His dad said, unable to look him in the eye.

"I must have been delusional, I'm okay...I'm okay now. I'm not going to do anything." Stiles said pleading with his father.

"I can't do anything about it tell me that the straps are for your safety and for the safety of the staff."

Stiles was pissed off. There was no way they could keep him here against his will. There was nothing wrong with him. He just wanted to be able to sit up. He jerked against the straps and shook the bed back and forth.

"LET ME GO." He screamed.

"Son, they are keeping you here for observation. They are going to evaluate your mental state."

The Sheriff moved closer to Stiles and touched his shoulder.

"It's going to be okay, Stiles."

"Evaluate my mental state? But what happens then?" Stiles ask, even though he already knew the answer; a trip back to Eichen House.

"I've brought someone who I think will help you." The Sheriff walked over and opened the door to Stiles room.

A beautiful girl walked in and stood at the front of his bed. Her strawberry colored hair was pulled back into a thick braid. The yellow sun dress she wore was short and flattered her figure marvously. He couldn't help but wonder if her skin was as soft as it looked. Her green eyes looked at him with familiarity. He knew that this wasn't the first time he had looked into those emerald eyes.

She raised her right hand up and waved at him, "Hello Stiles." She said, her red lips forming a small smile.

"Uh...hello." Stiles said scrunching his eyebrows.

The Sheriff exchanged a puzzled glance with Stiles, "This is Lydia."

"I'm sorry, but I don't see how this is helping." Stiles said.

He tried to make a connection in his mind with the girls face, but it just didn't work.

"This was a bad idea," Lydia spoke her voice barely a whisper.

"Son, this is Lydia." The Sheriff said again pointing to the girl.

"You already said that! I don't know who she is!" Stiles yelled.

He was even more angry before, and he felt like no one was listening to him. He would not go back to the mental hospital, they couldn't make him do it again. He would fight and scream the whole way there. He rose up quickly his arms and feet pulling against the straps. The bed screeched against the tiled floor making Lydia jump. His brown eyes looked into hers with desperation, like an animal in a cage begging to be freed. His features darkened and his lips pressed tightly together.

Lydia flashed back to the time she had taken Stiles up to her room. He had found a sketch that she had drawn of him. At the time she didn't remember drawing it or knew the significance it would hold. As she looked down at Stiles, she realized the sketch perfectly depicted this exact moment.

The silence in the room was too much for her. Without saying goodbye, Lydia turned on her heels and rushed out of the room.

"Alot of help that did! Who was that?" Stiles said sarcastically.

"Stiles that was the girl you've had a crush on since the third grade,Lydia Martin. Although recently, you have just been calling her your girlfriend."

The Sheriff shook his head in disappointment, and followed Lydia's lead out the door.

His girlfriend? Since when could he get a girl like her to even look at him? He laid back and relaxed, realization sinking in that maybe he wasn't okay after all.

After 72 hours Stiles was finally released from the hospital. The Sheriff called to tell Lydia they were home, and that Stiles was acting more like himself. She could hear the doubt in his voice, as he invited her over for dinner that night, and she respectfully declined the invitation. After ending the call, she had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that made her reconsider. Stiles had been there for her through most of her mental breakdowns. When everyone else thought she was crazy he stood steady, by her side.

Lydia stood up from her desk and stretched, comforting the tight muscles in her lower back. She turned around and saw her mother standing in the doorway watching her.

"You have been studying for hours Lydia. It's a Friday night, isn't there some party you're wanting to go to?" Natalie ask.

Lydia smiled at her mother and laughed. This was the first time that her mother had mention her partying.

"It's the middle of the semester mom, I can't let my grades drop."

Lydia walked over to her bed and sat down, remembering the carefree life she used to live. She felt like a completely different person from two years ago.

"Lydia your grades are perfect."

Natalie sat down beside her daughter and wrapped her arms around her, "Is this about Stiles?"

Lydia closed her eyes and leaned against her mother, "No, everything is going good with Stiles." Lydia lied.

"Is that why your notebook is filled with drawings of him?" Natalie ask, pulling back to look Lydia in the eye.

"You went through my stuff?"

Lydia accused, looking at her mother angrily. She must have looked in her room when Lydia was taking a shower earlier.

"You been locked up in your room for three days, I just wanted to make sure you were okay….that's all." Natalie said.

Lydia got up from the bed and walked to her closet to grab her purse. She glared at her mother and slipped on a pair of white sneakers. She grabbed her keys from the desk and rushed out of the room. She was half way down the stairs when she heard her mother's screaming apology.

Lydia pulled into the Stalinski's driveway and shut the car off. She took a quick peek at herself in the mirror before she stepped out of the car. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, loose hairs fell down around her face. Her makeup free face looked tired and her green eyes lacked their usual luster.

Normally she wouldn't be caught dead out of the house looking like this. This was the first, and last time she decided as she walked up to the front door. She knocked twice against the wooden door and looked down at her old sneakers.