Open Eyes

The Hospital


Stay Strong, Stay Gold,

You don't have to fear, Waiting.

I'll see you soon.


3 years earlier

It started in a hospital.

Beacon Hills memorial had been busy that day due to the hail storm that awaited outside of it's sliding doors. Each rain droplet drumming onto the plexiglass windowsills and rumbling throughout the halls as doctors tried to shout over the sound to reach each other with directions.

She'd been a young girl then. Only 11, with big green eyes peeking beneath dark whisks of hair that had slipped out of her ponytail, and had then fallen in her eyes. A book was placed firmly in her hands—Probably Sherlock Holmes, because at the time she'd been addicted to the idea of being a detective—as she tried to block out her mother bickering with her father on her cellphone.

It was supposed to be the scariest day of her life. The day they got the results from her blood tests. Once things calmed down, and the doctors were done tending to car accident victims from the rain storm pile up, she'd know whether or not she would be diagnosed with leukemia. It's not like she didn't know. Being a smart child, she'd been able to put the pieces together and know that something was very wrong with her. Then again she was only 11. Therefore, being able to truly understand the dark possibilities wasn't possible.

So, she sat in a state of partial blessed ignorance. Her mother bit away at her father's head in sharp whispers through clenched teeth, believing that as long as she looked to be on the phone, her daughter wouldn't understand that her parents were fighting. And she sat delved into her book, knowing she was close to completing the case with Sherlock, and saddened that it was almost over. Doctors rushed past the waiting room, looking stressed and exhausted—soaked. The overhead lights flickered as electricity threatened to fail under the harsh weather conditions.

All in all, it wasn't the best of locations for anyone that day. Even if you held the power of ignorance, you still felt the effects of the storm that loomed.

Chills ran up her arms, sending goosebumps to rise on them. She hissed in a breath, her teeth clattering slightly as her lip trembled. It had been the first distraction she'd had since they'd arrived and she'd shut out the world for the final chapters of her novel. Her eyes flicked up, focusing on the hectic atmosphere that surrounded her, and then she blinked. How she'd managed to ignore everything for as long as she had surprising her.

Another chill ran up her spine due to the amount of doctors and patients rushing though the front hospital doors, allowing the wind in. She closed her book, making sure to flag her chapter, and sat the book beside her. Clearing her throat, she pulled her sleeves over her hands and pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around herself.

"...I don't care anymore. It's never going to stop, all of this—this lying it's never going to end," her mother's voice finally grabbed her attention long enough for her to zone in on what she was saying. "You should be here, but you're not. We need you here, not there." Her mom was going to cry. She hated when her mom cried over her dad.

Deciding she'd heard enough, she tilted her head to the side, resting it on her fore arms and looking around. She liked studying situations by just viewing from afar. Reading lips, body language. Giving original backstories to complete strangers based solely on their self presentation. It was always something she'd done to keep herself busy. Some people would consider it staring, but she just saw it as a way to prepare her for her future poker face when she became a detective.

The hospital, was a show on its own accord. She caught sights of two nurses fighting, later imagining them to secretly be spies under cover and running over their plan to blackmail a head doctor. Then, she watched as an EMT gripped the hand of the victim on the stretcher. He was giving the man the best smile he could come up with, even though it was clear from the amount of blood that it was not going to be a happy ending. Squeezing her eyes shut briefly, she tried to push that sight out of her head, shaking it gently.

She turned her head in the opposite direction, just in time to catch a young nurse with black curls clipped back, and warm brown eyes walk into the waiting room. Her hand was clasped around that of a boy looking to be her age. He had a mop of brown hair resting over honey-dipped eyes. He looked sad, as though he'd been crying, and he lifted the hem of his plaid button to his nose, wiping it. The nurse ushered him into a seat right behind her mother's pacing form, and she craned her neck to continue to watch him.

The nurse crouched down in front of him, and the boy sniffled. "...Your father will be here soon, Stiles. It might take awhile with the rain, but he'll be here soon enough, okay?" The nurse gave his knee a soothing squeeze, but the boy simply nodded. "Would you like me to stay with you until he comes?" The boy, Stiles, she presumed, shook his head this time, suddenly lifting his eyes to the young nurse and letting a tear fall.

"Does my dad know yet?" He asked, his voice trembled. "Does he, know that she's gone? That she's not coming back?" Another tear fell.

The nurse stared at Stiles for a long moment, before lifting her hand and wiping his tears. "Not yet. We couldn't get ahold of him. But, he will be here, I promise." The nurse then dropped her hand. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you?" She asked once more, and he again shook his head, slightly pulling away from her.

"No thank you, Ms. McCall," Stiles began to pick at a hole in his jeans. "I just want to wait here alone for my dad." He swallowed, and the nurse gave him a short nod, explaining that she'd be back in an hour to check on him, before standing.

The woman looked as though she might cry when she turned from Stiles, and she cupped a hand over her mouth walking away hastily. Stiles sat numbly, staring at his hands in his lap. "Emma," her mother's voice broke her from her gaze, and her eyes shot up, looking as though she'd been caught doing something wrong. "What have I told you about staring at people?" She scolded gently.

Emma opened her mouth, before shutting it once more, trying to collect her thoughts. "That it's impolite," she stole one last glance at the sulking boy. "And rude." She focused once more on her mother. "Sorry, I guess I just zoned out. I'll stop."

Her mother inhaled deeply, "Never mind it now," she sat next to her. "Are you done with your book?" She asked, nodding to the abandoned object resting on the chair next to Emma. "Hmm?"

"Oh, no. I just needed a break. It's nearing the end and so I want to hold off on finishing it." Emma explained, rubbing her chin against her knee. "Will the doctors be here soon? I'm hungry."

"They'll be here soon enough," her mother lifted her palm, running it along Emma's hair. "Do you want me to get you something from the vending machine?" She offered, and Emma's eyes lit up.

"Yes, please!" A smile graced her lips. "Reese's, maybe?" Pausing, she glanced over at the boy in the chair across from them. "Two." She added.

"Two Reese's? Emma.." Her mother began to protest, never fond of her daughter's sweet tooth.

"Please, mom? Just this once?" Emma resulted to begging. Her eyes bore into her mother's.

Defeated, her mother gave Emma a smile. "Alright, just this once." She leaned over, pressing a kiss to her daughters temple, and leaving towards the vending machine.

Once more, Emma's attention found the boy. Only this time, he was staring back at her, eyes rimmed with red and raw due to the crying. Emma's eyes widened and she was taken aback as he looked as though he was seeing through her. He didn't flinch, even though he was aware he'd been caught. In fact, he seemed as though he had wanted to be. She crinkled her eyebrows.

"Hey," she began nervously. "I'm, I'm Emma."

For the first time, he seemed to focus on her. As though he'd just realized she was in front of him. "What?" He sucked in a breath.

"My name is Emma." She repeated, letting her knees fall and her feet plan on the linoleum hospital floors. "What's your name?" She acted as though she hadn't been listening into his conversation with the nurse and already knew his name. Still, he squinted at her suspiciously.

"Stiles." He stated flatly. "My name is Stiles." He settled back in his chair, trying to hide the break in his voice. Emma lifted the corner of her mouth.

"Stiles," she nodded knowingly. "Cool shirt." She motioned towards his Star Wars t-shirt, peeking out from his flannel.

He furrowed his brow at her, clearly confused as to why she was speaking to him. Could she not tell that he was upset? That he'd wanted to be alone? Of course she could. But, still she couldn't stop herself from making small talk with him.

"Thanks." He crossed his arms over his chest, looking away from her.

"You're welcome." Emma tucked her lips inward, not unaware that he lacked interest.

She glanced around, drumming her hands on her legs. Blowing air out of her cheeks she looked at the floor, and finally back at him. "I'm 11. You too?" She questioned, hoping he wouldn't ignore.

He looked at her from the corner of his eyes but didn't face her fully. "Yeah.." He stuck his tongue into his cheek, creating a small lump. "Why?"

"Just asking." She shrugged her shoulders. "I—"

"Not to be rude," he cut her off. "But I really don't feel like talking right now." His nose grew red with the warning of tears burning the back of his eyes.

Emma quickly closed her mouth, pressing her lips together tightly. "Right, I'm sorry." She ducked her head, her hair taking place in front of her eyes again. The curiosity continued to sit inside of her.

She risked another look at him, catching him just as a sob escaped his trembling lips. He lifted a hand, running it over his face. She winced, the sight of a boy her age crying, heart wrenching. With each cry his shoulders shook, and he did his best to try and silence his cries. Muffling them with his hands. He was so young, yet so sad. She assumed losing a parent could do that to a kid.

Knowing it was the complete opposite of what he had asked, she took a risk, wishing to speak to him again. "What was her name?" She asked softly, catching his attention. His crying came to an abrupt stop, catching in his throat.

"W—What?" His nose was stuffy, and his voice was nothing but a rasp.

"Your mom," she scratched at the nail polish on her thumb. "What was her name?"

His head snapped in her direction, multiple tears now falling down his flushed cheeks. His eyes were filled with recognition, and it was clear she had his full focus now. He seemed to have been wounded by the question, but after a moment he relaxed, wiping roughly at his tears. "Claudia."

Emma's mother rushed back into the waiting room, two Reese's packs in her hands and her chest rising in falling with each breathless intakes of air. "Sorry, the damn machine wouldn't take anything other then exact change. I had to dig through my purse." She plopped in her seat.

Emma continued to look at Stiles, giving her best smile. He looked from her to her mother, before turning in his seat, his gaze now away from her. Emma's mother caught on quickly, following her daughters eyes to meet the young man.

"I thought we weren't going to stare anymore?" Her mother asked, holding back her laughter.

"I'm not staring?" she pulled her head away from Stiles' direction, eyeing her mother, who gave her a pointed look. "I'm not!" rolling her eyes she stole a Reese's pack from her mother's grasp.

A man in a doctors coat walked into the waiting room, a clipboard in his hands. "Emma Morrison?" He called out, even though there was only one option as to who Emma could be.

Still, Emma raised her hand subtly. "That's me."

The corners of the doctors eyes crinkled with the smile that appeared on his face. "Hello Emma, it's good to see you again," he folded his hands together, tucking the clipboard under his arm. "I'm sorry for the wait. Would you follow me please?"

"Yes, of course we can," Emma's mother was already on her feet, collecting their things from their seats. "Let's go, sweetheart."

Emma looked down at the Reese's pack in her hands, eyeing it. "Hang on a second," she stood slowly, pushing her hair behind her ears. she chewed at the inside of her cheek, putting one foot before the other as she began to walk toward the troubled boy she'd only moments ago spoken to. "... Stiles?" she spoke his name, waiting for him to turn and acknowledge her.

For a few moments he sat stock still, staring ahead of him. Eventually the silence became too loud, and he lifted his chin, twisting his head to look up at her with questioning eyes.

Emma said nothing. Instead she put her arm out, the Reese's dangling in front of his face. He again sat quiet, but the surprise was evident on his features. When he didn't take the Reese's, Emma reached foreword, against the protests of her mother, and grabbed his hand, pulling it open.

He didn't argue, but let her separate his fingers, placing the packet in his hands. Then, she released him, leaving him at a loss for words.

"I'm sorry about your mom." she said finally. Those being her last words before her mother was pulling her away, sending quick apologies to the young boy who sat unmoving with his jaw propped open. Emma's hair fell out of its ponytail, and flew over her shoulder as she looked back one final time as they turned the corner.

Amidst his dried tears, raw eyes and sulking frame, the grieving boy slowly opened the packet, and pulled one out. That was all she needed to see to make her stop fussing, and continue to follow the doctor and her mother down the hall.

She wouldn't see him again for 3 years.


A/N: I really and truly hope you all enjoyed this. This is my first OC fanfiction, so your feedback is much important. Thank you for taking the time to read this, and I hope to get the next chapter out to you as soon as possible. X