Please, Stay- A Stydia AU

Heartbeats

When Lydia moved to Beacon Hills, she had never expected this. She hadn't expected to make friends because she didn't want them just as much as she wanted them. She didn't feel that she deserved them. But here she was, sitting on the Stilinski's lawn with the teenagers who had become her friends.

  Allison sat on the grass beside her and rested her head on Lydia's shoulder. "Do you like him?"

  "What?" lydia asked, startled.

  "Stiles." Allison looked up at her, eyes wide with curiosity. "You can be honest. I won't judge."

Lydia bit her lip. "I..." She thought about her feelings for Stiles. She knew what she felt. But she didn't want to share it, not with anyone. It was as if talking about it would somehow take away from it.

She was spared answering by Stiles's blue Jeep rolling into the driveway. Stiles clambered out of the driver's side and hurriedly moved to the passenger door. Before he got there, Sheriff Stilinski got out, throwing his son an amused expression. "I can work a door, Stiles."

Stiles bounced from foot to foot, anxiety and agitation written all over his features. He opened his mouth to speak and then shut it, at a lost for words.

John Stilinski gave him a small smile. "I'm fine. I promise."

Scott hurried to the two of them and started leading them to the front door. "Come on. Welcome home. You guys have food stored up. Casseroles and stuff, curtesy of neighbor's and friends."

John fixed Scott with a look. "Meaning your mom."

Scott flashed him a sheepish grin. "Yeah."

Lydia gave a small grin and got to her feet with Allison. She behind Stiles and took his hand. "How do you feel?" She whispered.

"Okay," he said quietly after a moment.

Lydia rested her chin on his shoulder. "You don't have to lie," she whispered.

Stiles glanced at her, his face very close to hers. Her eyes darted to his lips automatically. He was close... So close. Close enough to kiss. "I'm worried," he whispered finally. "I feel like it's a matter of time before it goes bad..."

"That's okay, you know," she whispered. "It's okay to be scared."

Stiles gave her a small smile. "Treehouse tonight?"

"I would never miss it."

His smile was true and bright, still slightly haunted and worried but real. It was Stiles and Lydia loved it.

---
"How's Stiles's dad?" Natalie handed Lydia a pot, which she dried and put in the cupboard under the counter.

"Okay. He's probably going to have to have surgery but he's home so I think everyone feels a little better."

"And Stiles?"

Lydia looked at her mom, who was giving her a knowing look. Lydia couldn't stop a small smile and ducked her head to try to hide it. "He's... He's doing okay."

"Well." Natalie was still watching her. "He has you. And I'm glad for that."

"I just hope I can help him. I mean... I worry about him."

  "Lydia." Natalie turned off the water. "Honey, listen. I haven't seen you like this since..." She trailed off. "Well. It's been a long time.

  "I know," Lydia said. "There hasn't been much to... I don't know. To be happy about."

  Natalie gave her a soft smile. "Thats the thing. It's not that things are that much easier. It's that this boy is helping you deal. I think he might be the one you talk to, the one you tell about what happened."

  Lydia shook her head. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked away, wishing she would never have to think about hat much less talk about it. "Mom. I don't-"

"Hear me out. You have to deal. And I think Stiles is going to help you. I think this boy is the best thing that could have happened to you."

  Lydia looked at her mom then. "What if I get hurt?" She whispered.

  Her mother looked her dead in the eyes as she answered. "Lydia, you will get hurt. Because nothing is perfect. It's inevitable. But if he's right for you, he'll  help heal the hurt."
 
- - -

Lydia was in the treehouse long before Stiles. She didn't mind: she needed to think.

Sometimes she thought that anything more than a friendship with Stiles would be a mistake. How could she risk what they had?

So many things could go wrong and how could she ever risk the one thing that made her feel that like was worth it? Worth all the ups and downs, worth the pain, worth the fear.

No. They were better off not going after more. It wasn't  worth the risk. Lydia couldn't risk him. He needed her just as much as she needed him.

  And then, as if summoned by her thoughts, Stiles climbed into their sanctuary. "Hey." He slid into a sitting position beside her.

  "Hey."

  Stiles had something in his hands. He was messing with it, moving it between his fingers, his eyes focused on it. "Isaac thinks I should get rid of the Jeep. Get a new car."

   Lydia looked at him. "It having trouble right?"

  Stiles ducked his head, giving a small laugh. To anyone else it would have sounded light, normal. But Lydia heard his voice shake and crack, heard the unshed tears. "It's a piece of shit."

  "tell me what's wrong," she whispered. "Why's it so important?"

  "It was hers," he finally whispered. "My mom's. She left it for me."

  Lydia stared at him, all words leaving her. What could she possibly say to that? What could she say to make that even remotely okay?

   Stiles shook his head. "It's not like it makes her here. It's not like I can talk to her. I don't know why it matters."

  "Hey..." Lydia cupped his cheek in her hand, turning his face to look at her. "It matters."

   Stiles shook his head, eyes glistening with tears.

  Lydia rested her forehead against his, once again feeling the closeness. They were right there. He was right there. "It matters," she whispered. "You matter. She matters."

  Stiles's beautiful golden eyes searched hers, as if looking for answers. And maybe he was. She had looked to him for answers too many times to count. "What happens when I can't fix it?"

   Lydia stroked his cheek gently. "Then we fix it together."

   Stiles stared into her eyes for what felt like forever.

One heartbeat.

He was still staring.

Two heartbeats.

His lips parted, as if hit with a realization.

Three heartbeats.

His eyes widened, still staring.

Four heartbeats.

He kissed her.

Five heartbeats.

Lydia's arms found their way around his neck, pulling him closer, refusing to let him go. She arched into him, her lips desperately moving against his.

Six heartbeats.

Stiles's arms tightened around her, almost desperately. Lydia's fingers moved through his hair. This was it.

This was worth it. He was worth it.

Seven heartbeats.

Moving as one, they lay against the floor, still kissing, completely entranced in each other.