Once Stiles was alive and breathing he had been quickly loaded into the ambulance and taken away. Everyone following behind to the hospital, unwilling to leave Stiles for very long.
That was two days ago. Lydia sat beside Stiles' bed and rubbed his limp hand as she held it in hers. He was on the mend but had lost a lot of blood. Melissa said he was doing great with his recovery, he would just be weak and tired for a while.
Lydia looked up at his face, thankfully pinker than the ashen shade he had been at first, and sighed.
"I still don't know if you can hear me but I hope you can. Stiles I…. I watched you die. I don't want to do that again so when you wake up you have to promise me that you'll be more careful. No more taking on ware-coyotes by yourself."
The banshee smiled a little.
"Maybe we can take self-defense classes together. I'd love to learn how to take down a bad guy by myself and I'm sure you have a lot of movie fight scenes to recreate with Scott."
Her eyes misted up as she looked at the sleeping boy in the bed. He was still covered in bandages and wires but his breathing was even and deep and the constant beeps from the monitors told the banshee his heart was just fine.
"Stiles I don't know what I would do if we lost you. You should have heard Scott howling when your heart stopped. And your Dad… You can't leave us. Ever. I won't let you."
Lydia stood and hesitantly lent over the boy she had fought beside for years. His eyelashes dark against his pale skin. Lips parted just a little. The Banshee lent down and captured his lips in her own, just a soft kiss, a promise, for when he woke up. She kept her lips close to his, so they brushed as she moved them, as she whispered.
"I love you Stiles."
Lydia brought her hand up to smooth his hair back, weaving her fingers through it and relishing in this closeness and touch that she had never been gifted with before. She could hold him and soak in his presence. He was here and safe.
She pressed a kiss to his cheek before sitting down again, his hand still in hers.
…..
Stiles didn't know where he was but he knew he was safe. He was warm, a soft kind of warm like when you snuggle down into your blankets on a cold morning, not wanting to leave your toasty bed.
He knew he was safe because he wasn't in pain anymore either. He remembered pain, and red, and cold. He wasn't sure what had happened but it was gone and for now that was enough.
The human was coming closer to the surface of whatever he was in. The blackness maybe. There was noise and touch but he couldn't open his eyes. He hardly wanted them to open, didn't really try, he was far too tired. But someone was holding his hand. Soft hands, gentle and caring. He wanted to curl his fingers and hold the hand back but his muscles decided not to obey.
Whoever was holding his hand was talking but they were too far away for him to hear. He caught the ends of words, heard the little sniffs from the person that told him they were crying. While he didn't know what they were saying he liked hearing them. The soft voice, so gentle, he felt loved and calm. Nothing bad could happen while this person was here.
Then the person came closer. He could feel her presence, smell her perfume, feel her hair tickling his neck. Lydia. She was here. And holding his hand. Stiles tried to concentrate on what she was saying but his mind was too fuzzy to unscramble the words. It wasn't until he felt her soft lips on his own that he heard her.
"I love you Stiles."
He thought his heart may have ballooned in size at those words. His heart was so full. She loved him. It was everything. She was so warm against him and he could have purred at her touch in his hair. He loved every part of her and Stiles wished he could move so he could kiss her back or take her in his arms and just hold her.
His mind was clogged and slow but he fought with everything he had and finally his fingers curled. It was barley a twitch but it was just enough to make her gasp and hold on tighter.
"Stiles?"
It was harder than anything he'd done before but after a few seconds his eyelids flickered. Light shone through and burned his eyes but it would all be worth it if he could see her. Stiles could hear a chair scrape against the floor, at Lydia's sudden movement as she stood. He blinked his eyes open a crack and felt his lips tug upwards in a smile. She was leaning over him, with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face.
"Lydia."
His words were slurred and he tried again, squeezing her hand.
"Love you too."
Tears fell down her perfect cheeks and Stiles wanted to brush them away, but they were happy tears and he could taste them as she pressed her lips to his. Now that he was awake he could return the kiss and properly take in her closeness and presence. She lent back, parting their lips, to let out an almost hysterical laugh, though she was still crying.
The banshee cradled Stiles' face in her free hand and peppered kisses all over his face letting out words in between.
"You're awake. You're here. You're okay."
Stiles laughed as she kissed him, drunk off her touch. They would have to tell his dad and the rest of the pack that he was awake at some point but for now he was hers.