Stiles sat on the floor opposite Lydia's room, waiting impatiently for her doctor to come out and tell Stiles it was okay to see her.
The detective had gone inside to get an update, and a few moments later the door opened, revealing a man in a white coat. His eyes fell on the teenager.
"You must be Stiles." The doctor spoke softly.
Stiles nodded, quickly scrambling up from the floor to offer the doctor his hand. The man had saved Lydia's life, he owed him that much.
"I'm Doctor Richards." The man shook Stiles' hand. "I've been with Lydia since she arrived here."
Stiles nodded again, bringing his hand down to his side. "Thank you. Thank you so much for saving her. I know that's not rewarding enough, but thank you."
The doctor smiled. "Saving her life was more than rewarding, I assure you. I've been told you are aware of Lydia's current state?"
"I only know so much as up to when she went in for surgery." Stiles replied.
"Alright, well..." Doctor Richards pushed his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose. "We managed to stop the bleeding on her brain. No signs of damage, it went extremely smoothly."
Stiles wasn't aware of the grin that had spread across his face, but he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.
"We've done surgery on her ankle. Her bone is now fixed, the wound has been closed up and is being overlooked by our nurses to make sure the infection doesn't spread. It's looking like we won't have to amputate, but that is; unfortunately, a waiting game at the moment."
Stiles nodded, feeling warmth and relief flood over him as the doctor reeled off the good news. He knew something bad was going to come out of his mouth, but the main injuries had been dealt with. Stiles was glad.
"The broken bones have been mended and the dislocated shoulder has been placed back in with no complications. They're in the process of healing, but it'll be a while before she'll be able to move about freely."
Stiles knew that was the end of the good news just by looking at Doctor Richard's expression.
"We're very concerned, Stiles, about how dehydrated and underweight she is. She is currently having fluid injections to help the dehydration minimise faster to a state we can handle, but as I said before, it's a waiting game. Anything can happen."
Stiles closed his eyes and nodded slowly. Stay positive, Stiles.
"Lydia is currently at an alarmingly scary weight. She is at a stage of anorexia." Doctor Richards spoke softly.
Stiles' heart twisted.
"I don't see no reason why she won't be able to put that weight back on, but it takes a very long time. The reason why we're worried is because of how quickly she lost the weight. It can cause problems for her recovery, such as the infection in her leg and the dehydration. Her body won't be able to fight this on its own, so she'll need to stay in our care for a long duration of time."
Stiles opened his eyes, staring at Lydia's door before looking up at the doctor. "O-okay. Well, er...I-I don't care how long she's in here for, I'll stay by her side. If it means her getting better then please, doctor. Take as much time as you need."
"That's good to know, Stiles. I can understand this is a long way from home...maybe you should talk with your father about how you're going to handle your job as well as staying here with Lydia." The doctor replied. "I'm aware you work together, so he's told me."
"Y-yeah. I'll talk to my dad." Stiles' head was spinning. He didn't care about his job right now. He didn't care about home. He cared about staying by Lydia's side until she was better.
"Stiles." Doctor Richards pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Uh-yeah?" Stiles looked up, reading the doctor's expression.
"There's more good news." Doctor Richards smiled softly.
Stiles frowned.
"Lydia is awake."
..
Stiles had finally made it into Lydia's room.
His eyes fell on his father sitting next to Natalie and Stephanie, conversing quietly amongst themselves. When they realised Stiles had entered, they all stood up and glared at him, waiting for him to react to Lydia's state.
His eyes moved to the hospital bed.
He could barely see her underneath the sheets. He mainly saw bandages and casts, and her body was even smaller than before.
He stepped closer, first to the end of the bed.
He saw her hair plastered out on the pillow. It had lost its wild curls and bounce. It looked broken, dead and dried up from the sun.
Stiles felt sad.
He then stepped around to the side of the bed, in the direction of where Lydia's head was resting. Stiles wasn't sure whether she even knew he was there.
He grew closer, finally seeing one side of her face. Her cheek bone was sticking out and it made him want to step back.
Her skin was paler than before. Shadows were cast on her face. She looked gaunt.
He moved forward some more, slowly creeping to a halt before bending his knees and lowering down to her level. He placed a hand against the head of the bed to keep himself up as his eyes fixated on Lydia's face.
She was here. He could see her chest moving up and down and she was here. But she wasn't.
Her lips were chapped and her nose was burnt. Her eyes were closed. Her pale skin stuck out, and the layer of sweat on her skin didn't give her a healthy glow. She looked very sick.
It was Lydia, but it didn't look like Lydia. Stiles become scared all of a sudden, goosebumps on his skin as his heart began to race.
But then she slowly opened her eyes.
There they were.
Her eyes.
As bright, as breathtaking as ever.
She wasn't well, she wasn't healthy, she didn't look the same, but her eyes, her oh so familiar eyes met his and she'd never looked so alive.
Stiles' knees collapsed to the ground as he finally felt the hole inside his chest close up.
He felt the dull ache behind his ribs disappear.
He felt his heart properly beating again.
"Lydia."