Neighboring (a Stydia story)[complete]

22. Come find me

Lydia's pov:
It had been a few days since our failed attempt at a bucket list and Stiles had been sleeping over almost every night to the point where he wouldn't even come in through the window anymore.
The sheriff didn't mind, saying that his son couldn't sleep unless he was with me anyway and it warmed my heart.

My eyes slowly open to darkness and I glance at the clock on my desk. 3 AM, it read and I groan, shifting in my place to face Stiles. I shoot up immediately; he wasn't there.
"Stiles?" I call out softly, hoping that maybe he was in the bathroom connected to my room but the door was wide open.

I start to freak out, glancing over at his house to see he isn't in his bed either.
"Stiles?" I call out a little louder. Once again no response. I throw the covers off of my body, stepping out of the bed but something pulls me back, twisting my leg and I fall to the floor with a scream. I lift my head to see my ankle tied tightly around the post of my bed.

"Lydia! are you okay?" My mother rushes into the room as I start to undo the complicated knot around my foot.
"I'm fine. Do me a favor and check to see if Stiles jeep is in his driveway." I say quickly and she goes over to my window to check, shaking her head.
"It's gone. Sweetie, what's going on?" She asks, rushing over to the bed and replacing my hands with hers in the rope.

"I don't know where Stiles is and normally I wouldn't be concerned but night terrors and hallucinating combined can lead to sleep walking." I explain, fear flowing through my body as my mother works to untie the knot.

Suddenly my phone rings from on top of my nightstand and I grab it, quickly reading the caller ID before frantically answering it.
"Stiles?! Stiles, where are you?!" I ask. The restraint around my ankle finally breaks loose and I stand immediately, going to put on actual clothes.

"I-I don't know." He sniffles and I can tell he's been crying, fear on the edge of his voice. My heart drops and I pull the phone from my ear for a mere second.
"Go get the sheriff, somethings wrong." I tell my mom and she nods before leaving the room.
"Stiles, how do you not know where you are?" I ask.

"I-It's dark and, uh, really cold. I can't real-really see anything. Lydia you've gotta come find me. Please." His voice shakes and I struggle to put on my jacket and shoes.
"Listen to me, get the the flashlight on your phone and look around. Tell me what you see, okay?" I say as calmly as possible.

I rush downstairs and out the front door over to the Stilinski household where my mother is already talking to the sheriff on the front porch.
"Lydia, did he say where he was?" Mr.Stilinski asks, my phone still pressed to my ear as I hear Stiles whimper and move around.

"He doesn't know, he's looking around now." I say.
"L-Lydia?" Stiles voice rings out again and I turn away from the adults.
"Yes? I'm here. What do you see?" I ask with a sniffle on my own.
"I think it's like uh... It-it's like a room. Concrete. A-and there's not much in it but the ground is leaves, I-I think its a cave?" He lets out a shuttered breath.

"He says a cave. Can you track his phone?" I ask the sheriff and he nods, pulling out his own phone.
"Stiles can you move or get out of the cave?" I ask. Silence. "Stiles?"
"S-someone's here." He whispers.
"Someone's here I have to go Lydia, I love you."
"STILES DON'T HANG-" the call beeps to and end and I shove the device in my pocket with a tear.

I curse under my breath, running a hand through my hair.
"Got it. I'll be back." Mr.Stilinski starts to head towards his squad car but I walk beside him as my mother returns to our house.
"I'm coming with you." I say, getting into the passenger side of the police car.
"I figured anyway." He grins.
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We pull up to the Beacon Hills Reserve and immediately I give the sheriff a strange look before both of us hop out of the car.
"Stiles?" I call out but of course there's no response. We start to walk in the direction of where the tracker on Johns phone says until we reach a small clearing in the middle of the woods.

I immediately spot the jeep but continue to look around for a cave. There's a small whimper of a sound and I whip my head around.
"I'm going to check the jeep. Just in case." I say and John nods, continuing his search. Cautiously, I approach the vehicle, circling it before seeing if the doors are unlocked. The passenger side pops open with a satisfying click and I look in the back seats.

I don't know what I was expecting because of course they were empty and I crawl back out onto the grass. A small noise sounds from under the jeep and I immediately drop to my knees.
"Holy shit." I mumble. "SHERIFF I GOT HIM!" I yell, grabbing Stiles from under his arms and dragging him out into the open as his father runs over to us.

The boy shakes in my hold, tiny whimpers slipping past his lips as he curls into a ball.
"Stiles..." I stroke his hair, gently trying to wake him. His eyes snap open and, much like the night he had a night terror, he starts to scream, wiggling out of my grip as his brain doesn't fully process his surroundings.

"HE'S GOING TO GET ME, H-HE'S HERE!" Stiles yells thrashing around. I go to grab him and John tries to warn me but it's too late; Stiles accidentally hits me and I fall to the ground, darkness completely surrounding me.

I shoot forward with a gasp, a throbbing pain emitting from my head and I wince as sunlight filters into my field of vision.
"Hey! Hey, y-you're awake. Are you okay?" Stiles stumbles out of the desk chair in the corner of my room and I smile at how sweet he was.
"I'm fine. Have a headache but-" before I can even finish the sentence, he bolts out of my room, quickly returning with a glass of water and some Tylenol.

I thank him, downing the two small pills before lying back and Stiles sits on the edge of the bed.
"Does it look bad?" I ask, referring to where he hit me last night. He studies my face for a while, a small smile playing on his lips.
"It's kind of purple...Still beautiful as ever." He says and I chuckle at his cheesy-ness.

Stiles face drops as he starts to look towards the floor and I sit up again, wrapping my arms around him and setting my head on his shoulder.
"I'm okay. Honestly." I whisper, playing with the ends of his hair and all he does is nod. I place a quick kiss on his cheek before laying back down and pulling me with him. We get situated, Stiles head resting on my abdomen as I continue to play with his hair.

"I love you." I say.
"I love you." He says back, remembering our rule of not saying "too". After a while of lying with each other, Stiles gently helps me to stand and we make our way down to the kitchen. I lean against the kitchen counter, closing my eyes briefly and when I reopen them, Stiles has a knife clutches in one hand, a smirk playing on his lips.

Quickly, he stabs the knife harshly through my jacket and onto the counter, keeping me in place.
"What the hell are you doing?!" I exclaim, tugging on the material in an attempt to free myself.
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Authors note:
I WILL SAY THIS ONE MORE TIME: STILES IS NOT GOING TO DIE. HE'S NOT GOING VOID EITHER.

But back to your regularly scheduled program, I posted the first part of "A Very Stydia Christmas" so check out my profile to find it. I'll be updating it every day of December until it ends!

On a second note, can we just talk about how much I hate the word "giggle"? If I read the word giggle, I automatically think fairy dust, Elmo cheerleader type laugh: really soft and stuttery and it annoys the hell out of me. That's why I never use the word "giggle" and I use "chuckle" instead. Anyone agree?

Comment, read, enjoy!
-Chloe
P.s.- don't you just LOVE cliffhangers?