Here is the final chapter of The Agony of Love. Thank you to all my readers, and everyone that followed, favorited, and reviewed this story! Without further delay, I give you chapter ten!
Chapter Ten
Consciousness returned to Stiles slowly as the injured man became aware of his surroundings one sense at a time. He felt warm, which was definitely an improvement from when he was in that eerie clearing. The young man could tell he was laying on something soft probably a mattress and was covered with a weight that he quickly deduced was a blanket. But the parts of his body covered with the blanket wasn't the only thing that felt heavier than it should. After some thought Stiles surmised that the heavy feeling around his left arm was a cast encased over his broken wrist, but felt a small jolt of panic when he couldn't figure out what was holding his right arm down.
There was a slight uptick in Stiles' heart-rate that accompanied his building panic and with it the injured man became aware of an incessant beeping noise. The beeping and sterile smell that suddenly assaulted Stiles' nostrils brought the realization that he was in the hospital. He was safe.
Next came the annoyingly difficult task of peeling his eyes open. Stiles braced myself for bright lights, but was pleasantly surprised to find the room was dimly lit by a single lamp in the far corner instead. Blinking away the blur of sleep, Stiles' sight was met with a tangled mess of strawberry-blonde hair and the small sleeping body of his daughter curled up on his right side. Careful not to wake Allison, Stiles pressed a soft kiss to the top of his daughter's head, mirroring the action his father did to him after his rescue.
"Hey sleepily head." Lydia's quiet and affectionate voice brought a smile of relief to Stiles's face.
Stiles dropped his head back against the pillows still tired, and let his gaze trail over his wife. Lydia had a couple of butterfly bandages over the small gash on her head, some purple bruising around her pale neck, but otherwise looked relatively unharmed. And in street clothes? "No fair. How come you're already discharged?"
Lydia chuckled and stood up stiffly, clearly sore from the previous day's events. "Well because I didn't have a severe concussion like someone I know." The strawberry-blonde teased as she closed the distance between the chair she had been sitting in to Stiles' bedside and began to run her fingers through his messy hair in a comforting manner.
Stiles tilted his head into Lydia's touch, and blinked several times, trying to fight his growing fatigue. The young father couldn't believe he was still so tired. He needed to focus on Lydia; needed to make sure she was okay. Then he could rest. "What did the doctor say? Are you alright? Was Caleb—is what he said true? Are you?" Stiles' voice was strained and broken as his words struggled their way passed his dry throat.
The strawberry-blonde immediately switched into protective caretaker mode and turned to the bedside table where a pitcher of water and small plastic cups were placed. After pouring water into a cup and grabbing a blue bendy straw, Lydia turned back to her husband and was met with an impatient look.
Lydia arched one eyebrow and brought the straw to her husband's parched lips. "Water first then I'll answer your questions."
Stiles knew when to push an issue and when not to (most of the time) and now was definitely not the time, so he drank the offered water without a fuss. The injured man made a noise of pure pleasure as the cool liquid slowly slid down his throat, extracting a fond chuckle from Lydia. Within seconds the cup was empty, illustrating just how thirsty the young father had been.
"More?" Lydia asked, concern radiating from the young woman.
Stiles shook his head. "No I'm good. Thanks." The injured man said then settled back against the sterile white hospital pillow and looked at his wife expectantly.
Lydia snorted in amusement and rolled her eyes before leaning in close to Stiles so their faces almost touched and returned her hand to his hair. "I'm fine. I have three bruised ribs, the cut on my head, another small cut on my abdomen that didn't even require a stitch, and some bruising." The strawberry-blonde's unoccupied hand came up to run along the bruising circling her throat subconsciously.
Stiles took the information in, but the worry in his eyes didn't fade. "And what Caleb said?"
A breathtaking smile graced Lydia's face and she spoke in an excited whisper to not wake their sleeping daughter. "It's not exactly how I would have liked to find out, but yes. I'm pregnant! We're going to have another baby! And before you start to freak out, the baby was checked out and everything is fine."
An overwhelming feeling of relief and happiness washed over Stiles, causing the constricting knot that had seized his chest since him and his daughter were attacked finally released. His whiskey-colored eyes filled with tears of joy as a matching smile to Lydia's adorned his exhausted face. "Lyds…this is incredible! I can't believe it…we're gonna have another baby! I love you so much."
Lydia closed the very small space between her and Stiles and showed her excitement, relief, and love in a deep kiss. When they parted both were out of breath, but the strawberry-blonde didn't go far. The young woman ran her nose along her husband cheek until her lips brush the shell of Stiles' ear. "I love you too. Get some sleep, Stiles. I'll be right here when you wake up." Lydia whispered softly.
Already half asleep, Stiles hummed in agreement and quickly fell back into a relatively peaceful rest.
The next time Stile woke up Allison was missing from his side, sending him into a panic, until Lydia explained that she was with his dad getting something to eat. Not long after that a nurse came in to change the bandage of the injured man's head wound, leaving behind jello and threat to eat it or be stuck in the hospital longer. Stiles grimaced, but obediently began fumbling with the jello's lid in an attempt to open it. However, the injured man couldn't seem to get his fingers to cooperate properly, and grunted in frustration when the unrelenting foil lid didn't budge.
Delicate fair-skinned hands covered Stiles' slightly trembling fingers halting his struggle. "Here let me." Lydia said sympathetically as she gently took the jello container away from her injured husband and opened it with little trouble.
As the strawberry-blonde handed the jello back Stiles grumbled, "I loosened it."
The banshee raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
"Okay so maybe I didn't. God why am I so tired still? I've never had this much trouble with a concussion before." Stiles' voice was raised with frustration. As he spoke, the young man ran his uninjured hand through his hair causing the dark brown strands to shoot out in various angles.
For a brief moment a stricken look flashed across Lydia's face. "It wasn't just a concussion, Stiles. You had your life force energy drained. And considering how close Caleb came to—to draining you completely Deaton said the exhaustion could last up to a week."
"That's just great…perfect." Stiles pouted while shoving a spoonful of orange jello into his mouth.
"Well look on the bright side." Lydia said in a light voice as she stood from the uncomfortable hospital chair and moved to her husband's bedside.
Stiles gave Lydia an incredulous look. "What could possibly be the bright side of being laid up for a week?"
"I get to take care of you for a week." Lydia leaned closer to Stiles and whispered in his ear seductively. "I think I still have that nurse costume from college."
Before Stiles had a chance to respond a solid knock on the door interrupted the husband and wife who both looked over just in time to see Scott poke his head through the door's opening. "Hey you're awake!" The true alpha exclaimed in delight with an easy smile displayed on his face.
"Scott, have I ever told you that you have the worst timing?" Despite his slight irradiation at being interrupted, Stiles couldn't help but smile widely at his best friend. Stiles couldn't deny that he had been worried he'd never see Scott again during his time with Caleb. He felt an overwhelming sense of relief seeing his best friend again.
Scott scrunched his nose in confusion and walked into the room with a relaxed posture. "I thought you said I had the best heroic timing?"
"Dude, this is a completely different situation here!" Stiles explained while not actually explaining anything and flailed his arms slightly to emphasize his words.
Understanding dawned on Scott's face the moment he realized that he just interrupted something most likely romantic between his two friends. The true alpha ducked his head, looking sheepish, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, sorry! Uh...did you want me to come back later?"
At the same time, Stiles answered Scott's inquiry with a resolute, "Yes." Lydia responded with "No," waving her hand nonchalantly.
"No?" Stiles questioned channeling Scott's famous pouting puppy-dog expression.
"We'll finish this conversation later, but I'm in dire need of a coffee. Keep him company will you, Scott?" Lydia asked, her attention shifted to the true alpha long enough to receive a firm nod of confirmation, before she turned back to her husband. Gathering her designer purse, Lydia placed a kiss on Stiles' cheek and left the two best friends to talk in the hospital room.
Stiles observed his best friend with tired whiskey-colored eyes. Scott was looking around the room, seemingly anywhere but at him, as he shifted from foot to foot with his hands securely planted in his jean pockets. The injured man knew immediately that something was wrong with his best friend. They'd known each other almost their whole lives and Stiles was acutely attuned to Scott's thought and emotions after being friends for so long.
Finally Stiles couldn't take the silence and uncomfortable feeling in the room anymore and decided to attack whatever the problem was head on. "Scott, what's wrong?"
So lost in his own thoughts, the true alpha startled at his best friend's unexpected and apprehensive voice. Scott's gaze snapped to Stiles and it was in that moment with concern clear on his injured best friend's face that all of the guilt Scott had been feeling came cascading out. The werewolf crossed the distance between him and Stiles in a couple of desperate strides and dropped to his knees next to the bed with a loud thump as his knee made contact with the hard floor.
Scott's sudden change and distraught look made Stiles' stomach drop. A spike of fear rippling through Stiles as his best friend gripped the forearm of his uninjured hand tightly and tears filled his expressive brown eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Stiles. I should have known something was wrong when you and Allison didn't show up at my house. I-I just thought you decided to go-go home instead. Things have been so quiet lately...but that's not a good enough excuse. Please...I'm sorry—"
After an initial shock, Stiles' concussed mind caught on to the fact the Scott was apologizing for what happened to him. The injured man cut off his best friend's frantic rambling fiercely as he twisted his arm so he could return the grip on Scott's forearm. The two friends connected with a tight hold on the other's arm, and neither of them willing to let go anytime soon. "For the love of God, Scott stop! Don't be an idiot! None of what happened was your fault. Okay? There was no way you could've known what happened and when you did you came for me and Lydia. Scott, you helped save our lives."
Scott began shaking his head vehemently. "But things wouldn't have gotten that far...you wouldn't have gotten so hurt if I realized something was wrong sooner. Please forgive—"
"Oh my God! You better stop blaming yourself for this mess right now or I swear I'll hit you over the head with my cast. I'll rub wolfsbane all over it too, so it will do some damage." Stiles tightened his grip on his best friend's arm unconsciously. "Seriously, Scott...there is absolutely nothing to forgive you for because it wasn't your fault. Please stop feeling guilty for something you had no control over."
Scott looked into his best friend's deep whiskey-colored eyes, searching for any hint of uncertainty of his words, but found only the undeniable confidence that Stiles often exuded. The look he got whenever he knew without a doubt that he was right, and everyone else around him was being stupid for not listening to him. The look made an uncontrollable burst of laughter escape passed the true alpha's lips.
Stiles smiled knowingly. "Now get your little werewolf ass up here and hug me."
Scott complied with the request readily, and sprang to his feet. He gathered his best friend in his strong arms and held him tight while still being careful to not injure him further. And despite still feeling drained, Stiles held on just as tight.
Melissa entered Stiles' hospital room, but before she could make it passed the threshold her steps were halted by the sight of her boys hugging. The nurse knew instantly that Stiles had managed to knock some sense into her stubborn son's head, and released a soft sigh of relief. The mother leaned against the door frame with a fond smile and watched the two best friends comfort each other as they had done countless times in their past.
As the boys began to pull apart Melissa cleared her throat to announce her presence. The mother chuckled when both Scott and Stiles jumped at the unexpected noise with Scott even tumbling to the ground on his backside. Her son scrambled to right himself while Stiles struggled to stifle a laugh at the ridiculous scene, which made Melissa's heart warm.
"Sorry to interrupt." Melissa said in an amused voice, causing Stiles to lose his fight against the laugh that suddenly filled the hospital room. The joyful sound brought full smiles to each of the room's occupants. After the stress and worry of the previous horrible day the relief brought on by Stiles laughing brightly was almost overwhelming to the McCalls.
"Dude, so much for superior werewolf reflexes." Stiles teased Scott before turning his vibrant eyes to look at his unofficial second mother. "What's up, Melissa?"
Melissa crossed the room and placed a gentle hand on Stiles shoulder in a motherly manner, and smiled warmly down at him. "Kiddo, I've got a lot of people outside this room driving me crazy. Do you think you'd be up for some visitors?"
"Absolutely." The young man responded confidently as he shifted himself into more of a seated position, Scott swiftly moved to his other side to help him.
The nurse left the room for only a couple of seconds before reentering followed closely by Stiles' family and friends. Instantly, the room was filled with a loud happy chaos of love and relief that everyone made it through yet another supernatural threat.
A couple of days later Lydia walked around her husband's hospital room to make sure they had everything as Stiles got dressed to leave after finally being discharged. The banshee's eyes landed on a stuffed wolf with a bandage wrapped around its' head perched on the chair in the corner. She picked up the adorable wolf and waved it at her husband after he finished pulling on his favorite flannel. "Who got you this?"
Stiles looked up and grinned. "Would you believe me if I said Derek?"
Lydia chuckled. "Oddly enough I can totally see that."
A knock on the door sounded and Lydia frowned in confusion. She looked over at Stiles who shrugged. "Maybe Scott's early?" The young man mused.
The banshee placed the stuffed wolf in Stiles' overnight bag and crossed the room to open the door with her heels clicking against the linoleum floor with each step. Lydia blinked in surprise as her gaze landed on Helen Steele, and was instantly struck with a sense of unease. The strawberry-blonde knew Helen helped save both her and her husband, but Lydia wasn't sure she could forgive the former hunter entirely for her part in their kidnapping. It was Helen that took her from work and showed the banshee that awful picture of her family hurt.
At Lydia's narrowed eyes Helen shifted nervously from foot to foot. "Uh hi, Lydia. I know I'm not your favorite person, but I just wanted to see how Stiles was doing."
"Lyds, who is it?" Stiles called with curiosity clear in his voice from his place on the bed.
The banshee silently debated just shutting the door in the former hunter's face, but then a thought crossed Lydia's mind that had the young mother opening the door. Stiles would probably be dead if Helen hadn't betrayed her best friend…if she hadn't decided to do the right thing.
Stiles sat up straighter and crossed his arms, mindful of the cast on his wrist, when he saw who it was at the door. "Helen? What are you doing here?"
Helen stepped into the room and watched as Lydia moved to Stiles' side and placed herself slightly in front of the dark-haired man, ready to protect him if need be. The hunter wondered for a moment if Lydia's action was subconscious or not. Helen noted that Stiles didn't seem bothered by the action at all, maybe accustom to his wife's protectiveness, and just took her hand in his uninjured one with a soft smile.
"I wanted to see how you were doing, and…apologize to you both." The petite woman said apprehensively.
Stiles huffed out a short laugh. "Considering you're one of the reasons I wasn't ritually sacrificed I don't think you really have to apologize. Sure you helped Caleb initially, but you didn't know what he was planning."
A look of guilt flashed across Helen's features. "Yeah I didn't know everything that Caleb was planning, but everything that happened to you both…it's my fault."
Lydia tensed. "What do you mean?"
Helen ran her hand through her short caramel colored hair and exhaled slowly, steeling herself for what she had to say. "When Caleb told me he found a ritual…a way to bring Grace back to life, but needed a banshee I was the one that found you, Lydia. I had heard stories of the McCall pack and the banshee that was a part of it. You see, if I didn't find you then none of this would have happened. It's my fault."
The hospital room was abnormally quiet as Lydia and Stiles had a silent conversation, communicating with only slight gestures and their eyes. Fascinated, Helen watched the married couple converse, and was startled by Lydia's sudden and firm voice. "We forgive you."
"What?" The former hunter whispered, dumbfounded.
Stiles turned his intense brown irises to meet Helen's confused gaze. "It's not your fault, but if you need to hear it then we forgive you."
The short-haired hunter nodded numbly; not at all expecting to be forgiven. "I don't know if I deserve it, but thank you. I'll let you get back to packing." She said sincerely, and turned to leave.
As soon as Helen's sun-kissed hands touched the door knob Stiles' light-hearted voice halted her progress.
"You know, it just occurred to me that I was right about you."
Helen looked back questioningly at Stiles with a hand still grasping the chilled metal of the door knob.
Stiles continued with a confident smile. "I told you I was a good judge of character."
(End)
Soooooo what did you all think? If you liked this story please remember to review and hit the follow/favorite buttons. I hope you all enjoyed this future stydia story. Leave me a review to let me know if you'd like to see something like this again. A sequel perhaps? Until Next time…