𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

Sick

au: stilz gets a fever and lydia stays home to take care of him

_____

"Mhmwhat?"

Stiles could barely form a word out, weak in bed with his hair mussed as he blinked wearily with his bleary eyes. The comforter that covered his hot body and his Star Wars sheets were tucked right below his chin, rising up his body every chance that he got. He'd wanna hide out underneath there forever, but he'd soon start coughing and that was a disgusting thing to happen under a sheet.

Stiles blames Isaac Lahey for this. That bastard came into school sick the other day and didn't tell Stiles until after they shared lunches and water bottles.

"I'm guessing you're staying here?" The Sheriff inquired to his son, leaning up against the door frame and pointing at him accusingly.

Stiles murmured something incoherent, and the Sheriff took that as a yes.

The father studied his son; dark circles under his eyes because of the lack of sleep he was getting due to his congestion. His face, other than that, was pale, and drained of color except for the tip of his nose which was a crimson red, since he was blowing it every five minutes. He was a mess; a high tempered, ill, congested, sneezing mess. He looked awful.

"You look awful," he deadpanned, and Stiles frowned. He didn't have a chance to look in the mirror today, and his father might have possibly given him a hint as to whether he appeared to be okay.

"I- thanks?" Stiles asked more than he responded, and he was about to turn over to his side- or at least tried to.

His father sighed. "Are you sure you'll be okay without me here?" The boy blinked a few times, and yawned.

"Mhmm," he murmured sleepily.

His father paused to look at his son and sigh, knowing damn well the boy probably couldn't put on shoes without some sort of assistance. He'd always been like that. Whenever he would be sick, he'd get loopy and spacey like he was on some sort of drug. He was like a five year old under medication that controlled his mind into thinking everything from Star Wars was real; that was a tough time. The Sheriff would never be able to leave him alone- the last time Stiles ended up in the hospital with a broken thumb. But today was important for work. The Sheriff had been on a case for almost a month, and today they were about to crack it.

He couldn't possibly leave Stiles alone. Even though the boy promised to be good and responsible, it always ended up the other way around. Scott once "babysat" him, and it ended up with a concussion and a broken game controller. Isaac once tried to watch him, but ended up leaving to go to Taco Bell since he didn't have the patience to watch over a child. So the Sheriff eliminated people from his friend group, his mind setting on the most responsible person there. He got a light bulb.

"I'm going to be right back." Stiles nodded, and the sheriff left the room momentarily to change, since he was in his pajamas when he entered the boy's room.

When he came back, uniform on, the Sheriff was rolling up the cuffs on his sleeve while he spoke. "I'm leaving," he announced. "I won't be back until late tonight, so I called your friend to watch over you."

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows and faced his father. "Who?" Stiles was thinking it would be Scott, who had to return the favor since Stiles took care of him two weeks ago. But his gears stopped working when he realized he had a history test today, since he wouldn't stop blabbing about it just days before. Plus- Stiles didn't think he wanted another concussion.

"Lydia. She said that she was available today..."

Stiles groaned, throwing his hands over his warm face and wishing he didn't exist. Seriously? Why Lydia? The one person that he didn't want seeing him like this was suddenly the only person available, and that made him frustrated to the point where his dad was smirking at him. Stiles looked like a kid, and all the Sheriff could think was Oh, this'll be good.