Work Text:
“Lydia,” a voice whispered stirring Lydia out of her sleep and threatening to unwillingly drag her into the realm of consciousness. Annoyed Lydia ignored it, pressing herself closer into the warm of her bed and pulling her comforter tighter around her body seeking whatever shelter it may offer.
“Lydiaaaa,” it sang louder this time. Lydia squeezed her eyes shut tighter in protest. It was a voice she recognized all too well and far too often at this time of night, and if she knew anything about its owner it’s that it didn’t give up.
Letting out a groan Lydia flipped over and scooched further away from the source.
“There’s nothing supernatural happening right now Stiles,” Lydia murmured still half asleep. “Monsters have to sleep too. Go home.”
She heard him let out a sigh and her tired, delirious mind actually thought that for once she had won. Maybe she could finally sleep through the night like a normal high school student and wake up for school on time and only moderately exhausted. Curling herself around the warm pillow she was clutching in her arms, Lydia felt her body drifting back to sleep.
She should have known better. Because before she knew what was happening her whole bed bounced, a shrill “LYDIA!” rang out, and she felt a heavy weight on her stomach that wasn’t there before.
“Stiles!” Lydia shrieked scrambling into a sitting position now fully awake. Stiles was basically sprawled out on top of her on his hands and knees, dressed in an old t-shirt and his go-to Star Wars pajama bottoms that he wore when they were doing a crash course at her house.
The soft blue glow creeping in through Lydia’s half closed blinds illuminated the room just enough to for her to make out the lopsided boyish grin on his face. She hated that despite being woken up in the middle of the night yet again, her heart immediately warmed.
“Hi,” Stiles said quietly still smiling. He was merely inches from her face and Lydia slowly felt herself adjusting to the dark. She could start to make out the soft glow that always seemed to reside in his chocolate brown eyes, and the constellation of moles that littered the soft features of his skin. Just looking at him now awkwardly askew in her bed in the middle of the night, gave her this unusual, warm feeling of home. Which was especially weird and annoying because she didn’t even feel that way in her own house until Stiles had walked into her life.
Despite herself Lydia began to return his smile until she quickly covered it with an eye roll and pushed him away, letting him fall onto the bed beside her. She looked at the clock on her nightstand and let out another groan. She made sure to put more emphasis on this one.
“Stiles it’s one in the morning and you dragged me out to that dump to look at a broken windshield less than four hours ago. What else could you of possibly found?”
Stiles sighed and turned on his side to face her as she did the same, his eyes immediately finding hers.
“If you’re that curious why don’t you get off that cute little ass and come find out?”
Lydia didn’t miss the playful tone behind his words as he quoted their conversation from the Winter Formal. Although it was only a few years ago, it felt more like a lifetime. And thank God it did because Lydia Martin did not want to go back to the person she was before Allison, Stiles, and Scott somehow squeezed their way through the cracks in her life.
Lydia found herself grinning again and decided to reply appropriately. “Interesting tactic. But I’m gonna stick with no.”
“Wrong answer Lyds,” Stiles said as he reached over and turned the knob on her bedside lamp.
“Stop!” she squeaked, squeezing her eyes shut as the light hit giving her a dizzying sense of disorientation. She sank down further into her pillows and pulled the covers over her head in protest, trying to block out the bright gleam. She heard Stiles let out a groan of his own and felt the bed wobble as he ungracefully ducked under the comforter with her.
“Lydia,” he said, his voice amplified by the cover of the sheets, “Either you come with me right now or I am never, and I mean never, leaving this bed.”
Lydia opened her eyes just so she could roll them at him. “You do remember that every time you fall asleep on my bed you complain like an old man about your back for the rest of the day right?”
“It’s not comfortable Lydia!” Stiles said defensively legs flailing at the footboard. “I swear you could sleep on a rock. You know what worse than a rock actually, you could sleep on a bed of nails and you’d call it the softest thing in the world!”
Lydia narrowed her eyes, “Well that’s because a bed of nails is perfectly safe as long as you lie still and keep an even amount of weight distribution. I don’t fall off my bed on the daily like some people do.”
“Six times!” Stiles protested. “Only six times did that happen!”
Lydia felt her lips twitch upward and Stiles let out a “hrumph” sound.
“Are you really not gonna get out of bed?” he asked returning to the matter at hand.
“Nope,” Lydia replied popping her mouth obnoxiously on the ‘P’.
“Okay,” Stiles said, a coy smirk on his lips that immediately made her own victorious smile drop. “Then you’ve left me no choice.”
“Stiles,” Lydia warned, but before she knew what was happening Stiles flung the covers off of them and Lydia heard herself shriek as the cold air hit her skin and goose bumps began to form on her arms. Before she even had time to scream at him, Stiles starting rolling towards her. Literally.
“Stiles what-?!” she exclaimed moving away from him to avoid getting crushed.
Little did she know that was just what he wanted, and after running out of space on the queen sized bed Lydia found herself tumbling onto the hard wood floor.
“Great!” Stiles said peaking his head over the bed and peering down at her. “Little Miss ‘I’ve never fallen out of bed’ is up!”
“Stiles,” she complained as she reluctantly dragged herself off of the floor and into a standing position. Stiles took it as a sign of victory and jumped off her bed towards her closet, his whole body full of enthusiasm.
“Look, you don’t even have to get changed,” he said moving hangers around until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out her long, green, button down trench coat and held it out to her like an invitation.
Sighing in defeat Lydia took the coat from him and put it on over her pajamas, doing up all the buttons. It was half to please him and half because she was freezing without the solid warmth and safety of her bed.
“This better be good,” she grumbled, stuffing her feat into a pair of worn, roomy gray boots and running her fingers through her tangled hair. She made her way over the vanity in the corner of her room and frowned self consciously as she noticed her disheveled appearance in the mirror.
This is why she wanted to demand her spare key back from Stiles. She didn’t need anyone seeing her like this in the middle of the night.
“Hey,” Stiles said behind her, his voice soft as he noticed her reaching for her makeup brush. “Not tonight, it’s just me.”
His voice rang quietly in her ears and Lydia felt something in her chest warm and slowly spread through her veins. It’s just me. There was something beautifully simplistic about the statement, bringing back that feeling of home once again. Lydia didn’t need to hide herself around him, the person she was closest to in life. The one who knew her body was made up of shattered pieces, yet constantly tried to convince her created something amazingly whole. Sometimes he was so convincing, she found herself believing him.
The one time she didn’t put on makeup when she went to meet Jackson, he’d looked her up and down with an unamused expression on his face and said, “What the hell happened to you? You look awful.”
Lydia made up some excuse about not feeling well and went home, the remembrance of tears stinging her eyes and trailing angrily in streaks down her face etched deeply into her memory. Her looks were the only thing that gave her any sort of control, and she wore them proudly. Back then, it was her sole source of confidence, and Jackson had managed to take that away in less than ten words.
Stiles picked up on her change of mood as he picked up on everything about her, and his eyes matched the soft smile that slowly spread on his face. Lydia felt her legs weaken and could have sworn she would of full on melted if she could.
“Let’s go,” Stiles said gently, holding out his hand for her to take. Lydia wrapped hers in it immediately, all desire to crawl back in bed and go to sleep gone. Just the feeling of his warm fingers intertwined with hers as he led her downstairs and out the front door made her feel wide awake.
The cool Winter breeze hit her as soon as they stepped outside, and Lydia instantly felt herself tense and shrink into her coat. She hated being cold.
When they reached Stiles’ old blue jeep, Lydia noticed the parking lights on and the exhaust coming out of the pipe in the back.
“Why did you leave it running?” she asked eyebrows raised.
“Because no matter how tired you claim to be, you always get up every time I ask you,” he replied with a grin. “And you get cold easily so I wanted to make sure the car was warm.”
Lydia didn’t know how to reply to that. What he was saying was true. Even though she knew there was never anything supernatural going on when Stiles begged her to go on late night adventures, she went anyway with only mild protests. She never really thought about why she was willing to give up nights of sleep just to wander around Beacon Hills with Stiles Stilinski and knowingly chase after nothing.
Stiles opened the passenger’s side door for her and Lydia hopped in breathing out a sigh of relief as the warm air hit her and she felt the tension from the cold slowly leave her shoulders. She snuggled into the back of the seat and her eyes caught on two thermoses of homemade hot chocolate with marshmallows in the cup holder.
Stiles jumped into the driver’s side and took the car out of park.
“All this just for another supernatural quest?” Lydia asked quizzically, gesturing to the steaming drinks.
Stiles just shrugged, “I wanted hot chocolate. And you know me,” he said with a wink. “Always the gentleman.”
Lydia didn’t miss the knowing twinkle in his eyes and the smile that he kept trying to keep off his lips. “Oh and you might wanna get comfortable, it’s gonna take a while to get where we’re going.”
“Stiles!” Lydia exclaimed. “We have school in the morning and I-”
“Shhh all in good time,” he replied, completely unbothered by her protests.
She scrunched her face up suspiciously and almost launched into another series of complaints, but decided to let it go and turn on the radio as he pulled out of her parking lot.
The moment she hit the Christmas station, Stiles wasted no time turning the volume all the way up and promptly breaking out into his own, very off key edition of “Last Christmas.”
“Stiles!” Lydia shouted over the music, hands over her ears. “How many times do I have to tell you singing is not a career option for you!”
Stiles reached out and turned down the music just enough for her to hear him. “I think you’re just jealous.”
Lydia scoffed, “Of your singing?!” she asked trying to stifle a laugh.
“Well I never hear you sing,” Stiles shot back taking his eyes off the road for a moment to grin at her.
“That’s because I’m not good at it either,” Lydia replied kicking off her boots and bringing her feet up to rest on her seat. “I’m the best at everything I do and if I’m not, I don’t do it.”
“Come on Lyds!” Stiles exclaimed. “For once in your life let loose, be bad at something!”
“Why would I wanna do that?” Lydia asked genuinely confused. There were very few things in life she came to accept that she couldn’t do well no matter how hard she tried. She had an above perfect GPA, scored perfect games in bowling on the daily, and even knew had to pick up a pencil and draw as good as someone who’d been practicing for years. Why choose to do something she was bad at when she was good at everything else?
“Well because it’s fun,” Stiles said as if the answer was obvious. He turned a corner and merged onto the interstate.
“Being bad at something isn’t fun Stiles,” Lydia said crossing her arms in front of her chest. “It’s frustrating. If I can’t be good at the things that matter, maybe there’s no point to me at all…” She trailed off, obviously no longer talking about her singing. “Maybe, I’m just useless.”
Lydia was surprised to Stiles’ face become so visibly upset. His mouth twisted into a frown and suddenly he pulled the jeep over to the side of the road by the dark line of trees.
“Lydia,” Stiles said turning off the radio and turning in his seat to face her. “Don’t you ever say anything like that again. You are not useless. I don’t think you have any idea how important you are.”
His eyes stared softly into hers, and she felt a familiar fluttering in her chest. Noticing her obvious uncertainty, Stiles took her hand across the dashboard and started rubbing soothing circles with his thumb.
“Do you know how many people you were able to help as a banshee Lydia? Do you know how many warnings you’ve given us, and how many clues you’ve led to finding?”
Lydia just shrugged unconvinced, and didn’t miss the intense flash of pain on Stiles face as he gazed at her.
“Lydia Martin,” he said softly, “You are the most amazing person I have ever met, and I don’t care if you’re a banshee, kitsune, werewolf, or a human. No one could ever take away all of the things that make you astonishing inside and out.”
The look on Stiles’ face got deeper somehow, his eyes getting lost searching her own and she subconsciously felt hers doing the same. She didn’t even notice, but they had somehow both moved closer to each other, fingers still intertwined as they sat on the edge of their seats.
Stiles looked down and brushed his thumb softly against her own. His touch was light and tender and it made everything inside Lydia physically ache. No one had ever been so gentle with her and had such pure intentions. “It’s why I lo-” Stiles started quietly.
Lydia felt her heart jump in her chest and gripped his hand tighter, which immediately pulled Stiles out of his daze.
“I mean,” he said quickly pulling his hand away and breaking the spell, embarrassment of what he almost said clear on his face. She could just make out the light blush on his cheeks and the concentrated stitch of his eyebrows. “It’s one of the things I…really like about you,” he said awkwardly putting the car back into drive and refusing to make eye contact with her. Lydia didn’t even bother hiding the overwhelming disappointment on her face.
Stiles pulled back onto the road and turned the radio on once more, “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree,” now playing at full volume. The moment, or whatever it was, was obviously over.
“Come on Lyds,” he said breaking the ice between them. “This is your favorite Christmas song I know you can do it.”
Lydia shook her head, “No way.”
“I’m not gonna stop until you join me,” Stiles said, “And this time it’s gonna be a lot worse.” He put his window down and started belting out song lyrics once again with zero hesitation or shame.
“EVERYONE DANCING MERRILY IN THE NEW OLD FASHIONED WAAAAAAAY!” he screamed out the window.
“Stiles stop!” Lydia laughed trying to put the windows up. But Stiles was well prepared and he slammed his fingers down on the child lock before she even had a chance to reach the crank on her own door.
“You know how to make it stop Lydia,” he sang in tune to the song.
Lydia sighed in defeat, “Fine, fine! You win.” She wanted more than anything to keep her well under average singing voice to herself, but she also didn’t want to be in a car that got pulled over due to noise complaints. Timidly staring straight ahead, Lydia began to quietly hum along to the music.
“That’s not gonna cut it and you know it,” Stiles said giving her an unimpressed look.
Biting back her embarrassment once and for all, Lydia took a deep breath and began to belt out the song not even bothering to pay attention to the sheepish feeling building in her chest.
“Woah woah Lydia!” Stiles said turning to look at her in shock. “What the hell? I was just trying to get you to carol and you sound like freakin’ Adele, you’re amazing!”
Lydia shrugged, suddenly feeling stupid for ever feeling embarrassed in front of him in the first place.
“I guess I just have abnormally high standards for myself,” she said a grin forming on her face.
Stiles shook his head in disbelief and let out a chuckle, “Well put those standards to good use and let’s get some practicing in we’ve got about another forty minutes to go.”
And this time Lydia didn’t complain about how late it was or, how they had school in a few hours, or how cold the jeep was getting with chilly gusts of Winter blowing in through the open windows. She simply took a sip of her hot chocolate and belted out the lyrics to the next song with Stiles in tow, not even caring every time she slipped off key.