Of Fire And Shadow [completed]

Chapter 15

"Come on, Lydia, wake up," Stiles said softly.

He sat in a wooden chair at the edge of her bed, holding her hand as she slept. She looked so peaceful, but Stiles felt anything but that. He was on edge and exhausted, which was evident from the dark bags under his eyes. Scott wasn't much better. They had both been here at the hospital for over 24 hours, ever since they brought their unconscious friends in last night.

Stiles had just convinced Scott to travel down to the cafeteria to get them some food when Lydia began to stir. She opened her eyes slowly, only to shut them tight against the blinding white lights. She groaned softly.

"Lydia? You okay?" Stiles asked, squeezing her hand.

She was tempted to say no, she wasn't okay. Everything ached, from her head to her feet, but she wasn't dead. At least, she didn't think so. From what she could feel, she was in a bed, and someone was holding her hand. She heard Stiles' voice and decided she'd better let him know she was alive. She opened her eyes and looked over at him before trying her hardest to sit up. That didn't go so well. As she struggled, Stiles reached over to give her a hand and help prop her up on some pillows. She smiled in gratitude. She was glad to see him, as he was one of her closest friends, but there was one other person she wanted to see even more.

"Where's Parrish?" she croaked, her voice hoarse from lack of use as well as the scream from the previous night. She cleared her throat and repeated the question.

Stiles looked past Lydia to the second bed in the room where a tall muscular figure lay very still.

"He isn't healing as fast as he normally does," Stiles said gravely, but Lydia scarcely heard him. Her eyes were trained on the body of her unconscious boyfriend. She stared, slightly shocked, until she noticed his bare chest rising and falling faintly. She let out a long breath. He was still alive, for now.

She knew she needed to get to him, to be closer, so she started to struggle out of bed. Every movement hurt, but Lydia didn't care. She needed to be near him.

"Wait, wait. You can't get up," Stiles said as he noticed her struggles. He reached over to push her back onto the bed but Lydia shot him a murderous glare. "Fine, then at least let me help you," he amended as he offered his hand. She took it and leaned on him as they made their way slowly over to Parrish's bed.

Stiles set Lydia down on the edge of the bed and she reached out slowly to take Parrish's hand. At her touch, he jerked awake and sat up fast, startling Stiles to the point where he fell over backward.

Parrish was breathing heavily and his eyes were the bright amber color of the hellhound. He reached his free hand up to grasp his forehead as pain shot through it, before looking around the room. His eyes rested on the hand holding his own, and then traveled up to register the individual it belonged to. Lydia shot Parrish a smile when his eyes met her own and he seemed to relax a bit. The orange began to fade from his eyes as he realized they were safe, and he laid back against the pillows.

Assured that Parrish was back to normal, Lydia climbed into the bed with him and gave him a kiss before resting her head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around her and held her close, comforted by her presence.

Stiles got up from the floor where he had fallen and smiled at Parrish. "Glad to see you back to your old self," he said chuckling.

Parrish smirked, then regained his serious face. "What happened?" he asked, and Stiles drew a deep breath before diving into the story.

27 hours earlier

"No. No no no," Stiles says as he and Scott rush forward, falling to their knees beside the unmoving figures of Lydia and Parrish.