Let me just say, that after this chapter, things start to change ;) Thanks for your patience, lovelies. And your feedback is very appreciated!

I do not own Teen Wolf.


Morning hit, and it took Lydia some time to figure out where she was.

The sun was streaming in, making opening her eyes difficult, and she tried to grasp how that could be. Had she forgotten to close her curtains last night? She never got woken by the sun in her face in the morning.

Her ears picked up the sound of other people breathing, and she finally relaxed, figuring out what had happened and where she was.

Last night, the group of them had been watching some of the new movies Lydia had gotten for her birthday. They all piled blankets and pillows on the living room floor to get comfy and shared popcorn and snacks as they watched.

John and Melissa had gone to bed after the first movie, but the other four stayed up, too wired up from sugar and caffeine to think about sleeping yet.

The sugar crash must have hit eventually, because the four of them were still sprawled out on the living room floor.

Lydia looked over to see Scott and Allison curled up together, Allison's head tucked under his chin while both of his arms cocooned her in to him. They looked so peaceful, as if they slept like that all the time.

To her right was Stiles, head resting at an awkward angle as he slept, his mouth slightly parted as he breathed in and out.

There was something so much younger about his face in that state; he looked so peaceful. She let herself freely examine all of his facial features, something she normally was more reserved about when he could catch her in the act. His dark hair was such a contrast to his porcelain skin, as well as the moles spotting across the landscape. He had long, thick eyelashes, defined cheekbones and rosy lips.

There was no doubt about it. He was gorgeous.

She realized a little awkwardly that she was lying very close to him, their bodies aligned and her head having rested on the closest edge of the pillow next to his. It seemed her body unconsciously wanted to be closer to him; whether for warmth or contentment, she wasn't sure.

Settling back down, Lydia snuck a hand into her jacket pocket to pull out some lip balm, mussing up her hair into a more normal hairdo and hoping that she didn't look like the wreck she felt like.

Unfortunately, her extra movement caused Stiles to stir, and she didn't bother pretending that she was still sleeping. She simply turned to look at him when his eyes finally opened.

"Hey." he said softly, his voice a little thick with sleep.

Her heart did somersaults.

"Good morning." she replied just as quietly, unable to stop the affectionate smile from gracing her face.

"You been awake long?"

She shook her head. "Nah, just a couple minutes maybe. You look really adorable when you sleep." she accidentally blurted out, beginning to grin.

Stiles groaned loudly, clearly forgetting that there were two other sleeping bodies nearby. "Oh god, did you take pictures? Should I switch my major to law after all?"

Lydia laughed, and then covered her mouth with her hand, having forgotten that fast about the sleeping Scott and Allison beside them.

Sure enough, the other two woke up shortly after.

"So, breakfast?" Scott asked through a yawn as Allison rubbed the sleep from her eyes.


It was Saturday, which meant Stiles and Lydia were due to leave and head back to campus the next morning.

So far, they had spent the majority of the weekend with Scott and Allison, and only a bit with Stiles' dad, so today would mostly be dedicated to seeing him.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Stiles and his dad were really close, and that his dad had no doubt been excited to hear that his son would be home for the weekend.

Lydia, the first day they had visited and she had seen how happy everyone was to have Stiles home, had wondered briefly why it had taken him so long to come down to visit. It was a bit of a drive, but not that bad since he had a car of his own and weekends off. Although, she rationed, that getting into the groove of university took a lot and they really didn't go easy on you just because you were in your first year.

Now, she understood that there was something more going on. What, she had no idea, but if anything, it made it clearer that Stiles' time with his dad was even more precious than she originally anticipated and the last thing she wanted to do was intrude on it. Naturally, when she was there, they went out of their way to explain things or find ways to make her feel included, which took away from their time to catch up properly.

Both Stilinski men insisted that she could never, but after John treated her and Stiles to lunch, she headed off to go shopping with Allison to leave the two of them to themselves.

Allison dropped Lydia off at Stiles' house later that afternoon, and she took in the sight of the house she had yet to see. This was where Stiles had grown up. It was only a couple blocks from Scott's house, and she felt something tighten her heart.

She was getting to see so much of this boy's life in such a short span of time, and she felt like she couldn't possibly be returning the favour. She wasn't very good at opening up, but she made a promise to herself that she would try more, if only to even the playing field.

Saying goodbye to Allison and promising she would text her soon and come back to visit, Lydia headed up to the front door.

Stiles opened the door with a smile. "You know, you could've just walked in. I should've told you that you didn't need to knock."

"Isn't your dad the Sheriff? Shouldn't you guys have more qualms about home security?"

He chuckled. "We have other stuff in place."

Like a baseball bat?

"I should get my stuff out of your jeep." Lydia remembered suddenly, realizing they had gone straight to lunch after spending the morning at Scott's place and that her luggage was still in his trunk.

"I already did. But here, I'll show you where it is." he told her, his hand falling to the small of her back as he directed her towards the stairs. "And then I'll give you the grand tour."

He pointed out rooms as they went down the hall—his dad's room, the bathroom, his dad's office, and finally his room.

She pathetically felt nervous as she followed him inside.

His desk was a mess, despite the fact that he didn't live there anymore, but otherwise it was obvious that he had gone off to college. She could see spots where posters used to be, some of the tape still stuck to the wall, but some were still up. She smiled as she spotted several photos of him and Scott on his bulletin board, as well as him and his dad, and then the Stilinski-McCall family blend at graduation. Allison was in plenty too, as well as what could be assumed to be her dad at graduation.

His bed was pretty simple, a double shoved in the corner with plain light blue sheets and a blue comforter. Her bags were perched next to it.

"It's not much, especially since I took most of my stuff with me." he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck as he saw Lydia eying his extensive CD collection.

"It's home though. You must be looking forward to sleeping in your own bed." she commented supportively.

She suddenly spotted something in the top corner of the ceiling.

"Uh… Stiles…?"

He followed her gaze and then laughed.

"I swear it's not what you think."

She raised an eyebrow at him, only able to think of one reason a video camera would be mounted in a bedroom.

"My dad installed it because I used to have a bad problem with sleepwalking. I did it a lot when I was younger, especially after my mom died, but it went away as I grew up. But when I was under a lot of stress in high school, it started up again. I got out of the house one time, didn't get far but… well, after that night, my dad wanted to make sure it never happened again. He put the camera in and an alarm system in the house that will detect if anyone goes in or out after its set. It hasn't really been necessary, but it helps him sleep at night."

Lydia squeezed his hand. "I'm glad you're okay."

She didn't know what else to say. He had just shared a rather personal part of his story with her.

Stiles shrugged. "I'm glad you don't think I'm a freak now."

"I could never."

She hesitated before they left the room to return downstairs.

"Wait… what about at school? How do you know you won't get stressed about some big exam and start it up again? There's not really enough security in the dorms and—"

Stiles shook his head, trying not to laugh. "Don't worry about me, Lydia. It's not usually that kind of stress. It's usually more… grief-related."

Lydia wondered briefly who he had lost in high school, but she knew it wasn't fair of her to ask. Especially since he had already shared so much.

Stiles slipped his fingers between hers. "Come on. I'll show you the rest of the house. My dad's been looking forward to you coming back."


Lydia hadn't missed the way Stiles let go of her hand right before they rounded the staircase to greet his father.

She could practically see his mask slip into place after his dad engaged him in conversation, and Lydia wondered when he got so good at hiding his emotions. How many things had Stiles gotten away with over the years?

Even more pertinent, how many times had she missed something he was feeling?

As the afternoon turned to evening, Lydia battled Stiles' dad at chess while Stiles started making dinner.

"I told you I could cook—"

"And I told you that you treated us to lunch, so it's only fair that I cook dinner." Stiles countered before his dad could say anything more.

"What are you making anyways? It smells amazing." Lydia commented as she placed her knight.

"Spinach and feta ravioli." Stiles commented, finishing forming the pasta and pulling ingredients from the fridge. "You're welcome to help when you're done."

"Oh she'll be here for a while." John reassured him as he took out one of her rooks.

"Hmm, not really. I'll help." Lydia said, sliding her queen across the board. "Checkmate."

Stiles had to suck in his lips to keep from laughing as his dad stared in shock at the board, completely surprised by the win.

He raised his eyebrows at his dad. "Did I forget to mention that Lydia is good at everything?"

"Well, not cooking. I've never really tried." Lydia admitted, grabbing the apron Stiles passed her and tying it around her waist.

"Hey, you've never had me as a teacher. Watch and learn."

She rolled her eyes as he rolled up his shirt sleeves. "Only if you stop acting like some cheap party magician about to pull a rabbit out of a hat."

The Sheriff, despite his sourness over losing, laughed out loud at that. It was no mystery that he very much enjoyed having Lydia around. She kept Stiles on his toes, something that was very hard to do.


Dinner was amazing, Lydia trying to hide how impressed she was but secretly attempting not to moan through every bite, and the three played some Scrabble before going to bed.

Halfway through, the Sheriff gave up and let the two of them continue their bickering over scoring, knowing he was fighting a losing battle.

It got pretty late by the time the game wrapped up, and they both figured it was best to just go to bed.

Stiles set up the couch in the living room for her, since she wouldn't listen to his protests to take his bed or that he could stay with his dad. She knew he hadn't had one night in his own bed since he'd been home and she wanted him to have it. And really, the couch wasn't so bad.

Plus, she doubted she'd be sleeping much.

They got ready for bed, said their goodnights, and went to their separate sleeping quarters.

Lydia was dressed in an oversized sweater and leggings, more than comfortable with the bedding she was provided, yet she couldn't find a position that would let her drift off into dreamland. Her mind was racing, wondering what the future would bring now that the weekend was over.

She didn't want it to end, but logic fought her on it. She knew all good things must come to an end, but the overhanging question of what happened next was a daunting one. She didn't know what this meant for her and Stiles, where they went from here.

Would they start hanging out more? Would he invite her down again? Would they just go back to their frequent study sessions and that's it? Or would they start hanging out without textbooks and lecture notes? It appeared that they could get along more than fine without them. In fact, half the time in their study sessions, they spent just as much talking about other stuff as they did focusing on their work.

He had been so generous with her all weekend, sharing so much of his life with her and going above and beyond to make her feel welcome, to make her feel like she was as important in his life as he was in hers. That meant something. There was no way they were just 'school friends' now. But where did the line end?

Lydia just didn't know how to relate to him now, what everything meant. She worried about screwing things up, passing over the delicate balance.

And frankly, if the weekend had taught her anything, it was that Stiles was her very best friend in the world and she couldn't lose him now. Not now, not ever.

Lydia hugged her knees, sitting up to peer out the window at the clear sky, the moon the only light shining into the dark room. It was quiet in the neighbourhood, a peaceful night, and she found herself sighing in contentment at how safe she felt. Just thinking about Stiles being upstairs, and even the Sheriff nearby. Allison and Scott and Melissa just a few blocks away. Everyone was so close, and she knew if anything bad happened, they would take care of her too.

Maybe she was a fool. Maybe she was overestimating their kindness for actual affection, but it was hard to find any insincerity in a single one of them. They were such a special group of people.

"Lydia?"

She looked up in surprise, having been completely lost in thought, and turned to see Stiles at the bottom of the stairs with his phone in hand. He slipped it into his waistband and made his way over in concern.

"I thought you'd be asleep by now. I was just coming to get some water."

"Can't seem to shut my mind off. Why are you still up?"

He sat down next to her. "Been texting Scott. He doesn't want me to leave tomorrow."

"It must have been hard to leave the first time. And to be away from all of them, but especially Scott. I've never met two best friends as close as you guys."

Stiles smiled. He wasn't oblivious that he was extremely lucky. "Yeah."

He absent-mindedly scratched the back of his neck, and Lydia tilted her head in confusion.

"What? What aren't you telling me?"

"What do you mean?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Your nervous tic—you scratch the back of your neck or on your face somewhere."

Stiles didn't even realize he had a nervous tic, although it explained why his dad could always see through his lies. Or at least some of them.

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"Stiles." Lydia complained, too stubborn to let him get away with it. "Come on."

He leaned forward on his elbows, taking his time finding words.

"I know how lucky I am. My dad, Scott, everyone is incredible. But… I had to leave."

"Why?" she asked gently.

She could detect the subtlest of guilt crossing his face, and suddenly understood that she was only going to be hearing about half of the truth. Still, at least it was still honesty.

He finally spoke. "I don't know how to explain it without sounding like a total prick."

She couldn't help but laugh and she leaned back into the couch cushions, shrugging one shoulder. "Maybe there isn't a way. Just tell me."

Stiles leaned back too and turned more towards her, his leg folding up across the cushion.

"I love them, so I could never tell them the truth of why I left, at least, one of the reasons." He paused. "I don't know how to explain it, but it's like… I felt like I didn't have an identity outside of them. When you lose your mom at a young age like I did, you're always known as that-kid-whose-mom-died, even if it's been ten years. And when it wasn't that, I was Scott's-best-friend. Scott was better at lacrosse than me; hell, Scott is better at pretty much everything than me. He's literally liquid sunshine. So, essentially, school is shot as far as me trying to be my own person. And then even when I'm not at school, I'm the-town-Sheriff's-son… I just… after a while, I didn't even know who I was without them. It was like… like I was always an extension of someone else."

Lydia contemplated the concept, intrigued. She'd never really had that issue exactly, because her parents weren't around let alone known by her peers, and she was usually a leader in her social circles. But she imagined it got quite lonely.

"As pathetic as it sounds, I just felt like I could never figure out who I was if I stayed. And even if I miss them all like crazy, I feel like I'd never find myself here."

Lydia nodded. "It makes sense to me. It was pretty brave of you to uproot everything you've ever known and go somewhere entirely new without your support system by your side."

Stiles smiled, grateful that she understood. "What about you? I don't think you've ever told me why you went away to school instead of staying in San Diego."

Lydia opened her mouth, and then closed it. As much as she trusted Stiles, as much as she felt comfortable in confiding in him with pretty much anything, this was something on the short list of things she was apprehensive to share with him. Since her feelings had started coming to light, she worried about what he'd think of her if he learned certain things about her past.

Stiles reached a hand across the space between them and grasped her hand gently in his.

"Hey, this is a judge-free zone, okay? You can tell me anything. But you're also not obligated to share anything you'd rather keep to yourself."

She smiled gratefully, and her gaze shifted to their linked hands as she spoke.

"My life was a lot different from yours. Both my parents were around, I had different friends through every grade, and I became pretty popular as the years went on." She exhaled. "It sounds good, right? Being at the top of the social ladder, where everyone knows your name? But it's not as glorious as people try to make it out to be. It's lonely. It's stressful. It's fake. You spend more time applying make-up and false senses of happiness than actually enjoying it. I never had a best friend, not really. I just would have a sort of… wingwoman. Someone to be the beta to my alpha. I've never had that mutual sort of equality that you and Scott have. You two love each other so deeply that you're completely connected. I know that not every best friendship is like that, but I've never had anything even close."

"I kept the act up though, as if I felt as admired as I seemed to be. I threw the best parties, I wore the best clothes, and I had the best hair. I jumped through all the typical hoops. But even though I danced and drank and did everything that was expected of me, I never felt like I was really there. It was like an out-of-body experience, like I was watching from afar instead of experiencing it firsthand. I guess it took me until high school was coming to an end to realize that I really didn't care for the life I had spent so long constructing and keeping alive. I guess that's what you do when you strive to be someone you're not—you just get caught up in the routine."

She looked up finally, catching Stiles' curious eyes. He didn't look pitying, but she could see the sympathy for the sadness colouring her tone. She didn't want to see it there, especially as she continued on to the next thing

"My parents divorced when I was sixteen, and I knew I wanted to move far away from that chaos as soon as I could, because living at home was a nightmare during the whole process. But it was so much more than that. I knew I didn't like being the person I was."

She looked down in shame.

"I wasn't just some popular girl—I was a mean girl. It's the only way you can stay at the top without getting torn away. I'd shut down anyone who tried to talk back to me, I'd flirt with boys just to prove I can to keep their girlfriends in line in my clique, and I wouldn't hesitate to call someone out if they were wrong, even if it was in a crowd. I guess I liked the power that came with it. Having boys fawn over you and girls want to be you gives you sort of this wacked out sense of right and wrong. I was a trainwreck."

"Or…" Stiles interrupted. "You were just looking for power when you felt so helpless at home, dealing with your parents."

Lydia absorbed that, rather shocked by his deduction. Of course he was defending her. He couldn't be like any other normal person and be disgusted at what she had just confessed.

"Maybe."

She inhaled deeply. She loved that Stiles was so willing to keep her in a positive light, but she also didn't want him to be blind to what she was telling him. If he was going to lose interest in her, or reject her, she needed him to do it now. She knew based on the way her heart was racing in her chest that he had way too much of a hold over her, and losing him would be agonizing. If it was going to happen, it was better it be sooner rather than later.

"I used to play dumb, purely to keep boys' attention. I fooled myself into thinking I was in love once, and I got burned, and I never wanted a boy to have that power over me again. So I fooled around and became in charge of my own sexuality. It had the added benefit of spiking my popularity, but the independence that came with it was empowering."

Lydia pushed her hair back, still nervous to look him in the face.

"Long story short is that I used to be someone I didn't like. And I figured out that putting my needs above what other people think is so much more important. When I went to university, I promised myself I'd honour who I am rather than try to fit a certain image. Being smart was never something to be ashamed of—I just hadn't wanted to stand out. But now I know that it's one of my best assets and I shouldn't shy away from it. Because showing it off and being myself will bring the kind of people I want in my life."

She looked up at him for the last bit, squeezing his hands, and his face broke out into a smile.

Lydia didn't see any judgment or distaste in his eyes, so she was hopeful that maybe she hadn't scared him off completely.

"So, essentially, I went away to university to leave my chaotic family behind, my so-called friends who I didn't have a thing in common with, and the watered-down-version of myself. I never want to be her. I went to university to find myself too. And I'm still working on it. Even now, although I'm aware how wrong I was to hide so much of myself, I still struggle to be the 'smart girl' when I've spent so long pretending that side of me didn't exist. I just feel fake either way, you know? If I play dumb, I'm fake, because my intelligence is actually one of my best assets. But if I play smart, I feel like I'm out of my comfort level too, which feels very similar in discomfort to how I felt as a 'dumb girl'."

She took a moment to process all that she said, realizing that her mouth was literally getting dry she had been talking at length for so long.

"I'm rambling so much. I'm so sorry."

Stiles squeezed her hand. "Hey, don't apologize. I like talking to you. I think this is the most I've heard you talk about yourself since I met you."

Lydia smiled but couldn't look him in the eye. "Another thing I'm working on. Trusting people. Opening up. I find it much easier to discuss different species in a habitable ecosystem than share my inner thoughts and feelings."

Stiles played with her fingers delicately. "We can talk about whatever you want."

"I didn't mean it like that. I was just saying… that I trust you. I want to share stuff with you. I'm just sorry if I'm bad at it."

He looked up, sensing her bashfulness for saying something so bold, and he scooted minutely closer.

"Well I can keep rambling about my boring life and you can chime in when you like? Or we can play twenty questions or something?"

Lydia laughed. "Twenty questions sounds dangerous."

"Probably would be fun though." he said cheekily with a grin.

She shrugged. "Fine. I'm game if you are."

"Oh it's on."


The game went on well past the twenty questions, mostly getting interrupted between for further explanations and storytelling.

They were breaking down all kinds of walls tonight. They'd covered the simple things like whether or not they'd broken a bone (Stiles yes, Lydia no), most embarrassing moments, childhood nightmare fashion choices, irrational fears ("being afraid of spiders is NOT irrational" "Okay, Stiles"), and a whole lot in between.

There was one obvious topic they seemed to be avoiding, and as the night grew later, Lydia grew bolder.

"First kiss?" she asked.

Stiles immediately looked down, chewing on his tongue. "Sixteen."

She didn't believe his behaviour was from embarrassment, so she knew she was missing something of the story.

He corrected his throat. "It was with my mom's best friend's daughter, Heather. I'd known her my whole life. I dragged Scott to her seventeenth birthday party, and she asked me to help her pick out wine down in the cellar. I went, not thinking anything of it, and then she was kissing me and telling me that what she wanted for her birthday was not to be a seventeen-year-old virgin."

Lydia's eyebrows rose of her own accord.

She couldn't help but laugh a little. "The girl is bold. I'll give her that."

"Oh, she was. Always. She used to love to call me out on my crap or put me on the spot. She was a complete pain in the ass. Kind of like an annoying cousin, but less incestuous."

Lydia picked up on the past tense and straightened up, suddenly aware how much pain was on his face. She felt tears sting her eyes instantly. She didn't know what was wrong—she just knew she wanted his pain to stop.

His bottom lip trembled, and he looked down as his eyes grew wet.

Lydia had launched herself across the space between them and wrapped herself up in his arms before she could even contemplate it.

Stiles held her close, his arms tightening as he inhaled a shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry." he whispered, sounding irritated with himself

"Don't be. It's okay." she promised, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder.

It was quiet between them for a few minutes.

"She died that same night." he explained quietly, shocking Lydia. "I ran upstairs to get protection from her brother's bathroom, half-excited, half-panicked out of my mind, and when I got back, the cellar was empty. I figured she changed her mind—or maybe got a better offer, it's not as though I was basking in girls' attention back then, and eventually me and Scott left. The next day I found out she was missing. A couple days later, they found her body."

Lydia swallowed, stroking up and down Stiles' back, knowing that if she spoke it would derail his confession. She didn't know what to say regardless. She felt numb. He needn't have finished. She had understood already.

"I stood in the back at the funeral. I couldn't talk to her family and closest friends, offer condolences, not when I was partially responsible."

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "How were you responsible?"

Stiles pulled back. "Lydia, if I hadn't been too busy thinking with my dick, I would've remembered that the town we live in isn't the safest and she shouldn't go off outside alone. Or I would've told her no, and then she would've returned upstairs to the party to find another conquest or hang out with her friends. If I hadn't taken so long, upstairs freaking out about my potential performance, than I may have come back in time to hear the struggle. Or if I had sought her out after not finding her where she said she would be, instead of just assuming, maybe I'd realize that something was wrong and they could've started looking for her before it was too late."

"Stop. Stop that right now." Lydia said sternly, her voice not as steady as she would like since it hurt hearing him talk in such a way. She cupped his face in her hands so his hands would stop wringing and he would look her straight in the eye. "Her death was not your fault. None of it was your fault. You couldn't have known what would happen, and beating yourself up over what-ifs won't help you move on. It's over. She's gone. No amount of beating yourself up will change that. You need to forgive yourself and let it go."

Stiles was quiet for a moment. He knew what she said had some merit. Maybe one day he'd stop dying on the inside at the thought of repeating his mistakes. Maybe one day he'd show Lydia the pages of notebooks he scrawled apologies into, whether during one of his nightmares or when he was awake and a wreck. Maybe one day he'd be able to tell her about the happier moments growing up with Heather, before she was taken from the world.

He corrected his throat. "So what about you? Any horror stories from your first kiss?"

Lydia smiled at his attempt to lighten the situation, trying not to concentrate on the way his knuckles were running down her spine. "Nothing special, I'm sorry to report. Done on the playground in sixth grade."

"So you two didn't have a fairy tale ending?"

She laughed. "Oh far from it. Coincidentally, it was the same guy who later shredded my heart."

"No way."

"Seriously. He moved to London for senior year after he got into some legal trouble. His dad was a lawyer and it didn't look good to have a delinquent son, so the family shipped off to England."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." she laughed. "I'm over him. I'm looking for someone who actually respects me and doesn't belittle me when I'm better at things than him."

"You need someone who knows that you'll kick their ass at everything. Calculus, chess, bowling…"

Lydia giggled into him, feeling the familiar swoop in her stomach that meant that Stiles was yet again winning her heart over.

They were still completely wrapped up in each other, and she longed to close the distance between them and kiss him like she'd been craving to all weekend.

Knowing that that would probably ruin the spell between them, Lydia finally extracted herself from his arms and sat across from him, leaving her legs tangled with his.

Stiles let out a long exhale. "It's hard to believe we're leaving tomorrow and going back to school."

Lydia smiled, burying her face in her knees before tilting her head to smile bashfully at him. "I know. I feel like a different person, somehow."

He smiled in return. "I know what you mean."

As their eyes locked, Lydia felt like a huge weight had lifted off her shoulders. Maybe it was because she finally knew what it felt like to have a best friend, maybe because she had gotten stuff off her chest that she hadn't even fully admitted to herself and learned even more about Stiles than she ever imagined, or maybe it was a combination of a lot of things, but she felt lighter than she ever had. It was a weight she hadn't realized she'd been carrying.

"Thanks for coming this weekend, Lyds. I'm really glad you came." Stiles confessed.

Based on the slight grimace that slipped out, she knew there was more to it than he was saying, but she didn't want to push him. He had already shared enough. But by the looks of things, he had been nervous to come home, and it likely had to do with that big thing she was missing out on.

She smiled warmly. "Thank you for the invite. Any time you need company again, please don't hesitate to ask. I'm glad it wasn't a pity invite."

"It wasn't, I swear. Really, it was for selfish reasons."

She giggled at that, nodding in faux-acceptance even though she had no idea how his invite had been intended for his benefit, and his fingers began playing with hers again.

"Since we're being so honest, I really didn't want to be away from you for that long."

Lydia looked up in surprise at the confession, his eyes still downcast to their joined hands. She hadn't been expecting that.

She opened her mouth to reply but then realized she had no idea what to say.

She could see the pink colouring his cheeks, the indication that regret was beginning to sink in for what he said. She didn't want him to feel like her heart wasn't doing the conga over his confession, because it most certainly was.

She squeezed his hand. "Why do you think I said yes so quickly?" she teased as casually as she could.

His eyes flashed to hers and he broke out into a grin.

"If you remember correctly, you'll be reminded that I basically had to draft up a full bodied argument, practically with a slideshow, to convince you to come—"

"Hey, you came out of left field with that offer! I barely had time to wrap my mind around the question, let alone consider accepting it."

"Oh, I'm sorry, maybe I should have written a formal offer up and had you sign on the dotted line that you understood everything fully before we proceeded…"

They both were giggling like idiots when another voice joined the mix.

"Do you two have any idea what time it is?" a gruff voice came from across the room.

Stiles and Lydia looked over in surprise to see the Sheriff yawning.

"Uh, it's gotta be, like, midnight, right? Sorry, Dad, did we wake you?"

His dad raised an eyebrow at him. "It's after four in the morning. I've got to be at the station in an hour. I'm getting up for the day and you two haven't even gone to bed yet. I think it's time to get some sleep if you have any hope of making it back to school in one piece. I'm not having you drive on two hours of sleep, Stiles."

He headed into the kitchen without another word, and Stiles wasn't oblivious to the smile he was trying to hide.

The teenage boy stood up sheepishly, untangling himself from Lydia and scratching the back of his neck, his body suddenly cluing in to how exhausted he was.

"Well, I guess I should let you sleep. You sure you're going to be okay down here?"

"I'll be fine." Lydia promised. "Goodnight, Stiles."

He hesitated for a moment before leaning down to hug her and press a kiss to her cheek. "Night, Lyds."

Lydia was sure her cheeks were burning, but there was no hiding the smile on her face from his affectionate action.

Stiles smiled tenderly in return before heading up the stairs to his room.

As Lydia settled down into her blankets, she couldn't help feeling the loss of his body warmth from across from her. She felt absolutely pathetic, but she missed his presence already.

Stiles climbed into his cool bed upstairs, void of the warmth of Lydia's smile or the softness of her gaze, and he sighed in reminisce as he thought about her downstairs. He wished not for the first time that she was there with him.


A/N: I always felt like Heather's death was skirted over far too quickly in the show likely due to plot advancement reasons and wanted to show Stiles' reaction a little more, so it won't be the last you hear of it. Thanks for reading!