Stiles' POV
"The- the hospital?" Stiles echoed. Emma stared back at him with wide eyes. He saw her tears building. He hated seeing her cry. "Let's go then!" he frantically said, taking her by the small of her back and wallking rapidly. He heard Emma's short breaths over the roar of other people speaking and screaming and the beeps and dings coming from the rides stretched out over the parking lot.
They ran at the same pace towards his Jeep and quickly got in. He slammed the door behind her and had never been so fast to start the car.
As they sped down the empty road, Stiles' hands trembled as they lay over the steering wheel.
"Oh God," Emma's words were muffled as her face was dug in her hands, "What happened to him? What happened?" Stiles swallowed hard, hating seeing her in so much agony. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, frustrated with the helplessness he was feeling.
All of a sudden, a shadowy figure appeared in front of the Jeep. Emma screamed as Stiles nailed the brake petal to the floor and jerked his steering wheel to the right. The screeching of the wheels against asphalt was nearly deafening.
Emma's POV
Emma pulled open her heavy eyelids. She heard a systematic beeping to her right and shallow breaths to her left. Staring at the white cieling above her, she attempted to figure out where she was. Her head as in agonizing pain, her right arm was numb and her sight, blurry. The hospital. That's where she was.
As her sense of touch slowly came back, she could feel a weight on her left wrist. She looked over to see a head with short, brown buzzed hair resting on his hands that lay on Emma's wrist. Stiles.
"S-Stiles?" her voice sounded undesirably groggy. His head popped out of his position. His hazel eyes searched her face. As her vision sharpened, she noticed bruises behind his glossy eyes and a bandaged cut on his lower cheek, along with other scratches.
"How do you feel? Are you okay?" Emma reached out to touch his face, but the sharp pain in her right arm stopped her half way. She groaned as it dropped back down. Stiles gasped, nearly trembling as he inspected her arm.
"Said the girl in the hospital bed," Stiles sarcastically muttered. Emma chuckled, turning her other hand that rested by her side up and offering it to Stiles. He delicately placed his hand over his and stroked it with his thumb. Emma's memory came back to her in chunks. An accident.
"How long have I been here?" she asked, barely able to understand herself.
Someone charged through the door, their speed nearly causing a breeze. Stiles' hand jerked away from Emma's. Her father stood there, fists clenched and with a worried expression.
"Dad, before you say anything, I am fine," Emma's voice turned into a whisper. She realized how worried he must've felt. He had already lost his wife and youngest daughter in a car accident. She felt her heart drop. "Wait- are you okay?" Emma's head began to ache.
"Am I okay?" her father asked in disbelief.
"You were- you were supposed to be here," Emma muttered. Her father's eyebrows shadowed over his eyes in confusion.
"What?"
"Emma got a call that you were in the hospital," Stiles spoke. Emma was grateful he was there to translate. "That's why were were rushing to get here."
"It's a little ironic," Emma couldn't help but giggle. Emma's father was not amused.
"I- I was here, but nothing happened to me," her father explained, coming to the end of the bed and resting his hands on the plastic frame, "We were called in because of an animal attack. Who called you?" Emma lay in silence.
"I don't know," she whispered in realization, "The guy- the guy just said that you were in the hospital and I kind of.. I kind of lost it."
"Well, what happened?" he said, clearly staring at her bruised arm.
"We- we were just on our way over here," Emma explained with a shaky voice, "And, I don't know, it just happened in a flash- this thing just popped out in front of the car."
"Who was driving?"
"It doesn't matter who was driving, dad," Emma answered, a little frustrated, "It isn't our fault. I don't know what jumped out on the road, but we tried to avoid it.. and that's all that I remember." Emma sighed. "After moving here, my life has had more drama in one week than it has.. ever," Emma mumbled, feeling a smile pull on her lips. Her father unpleasantly shuffled in his stance and crossed his arms. He shot a death stare at Stiles. Emma couldn't imagine how intimidated Stiles must've felt. She didn't like seeing her father like this- she couldn't fathom being in Stiles' place right there. "Can I get out of here, please?" Emma shuffled to sit up but was stopped by Stiles' firm hand on her shoulder.
"You really shouldn't move so fast," he consoled. Emma bit her lip, nervous of what her father would think of Stiles' affection. She began to wonder about his views on their relationship.
"What do you mean by thing? Was it an animal that jumped out?"
"I- I don't know," Emma mumbled, looking over at Stiles, who was examining her face with his glistening, hazel eyes. He swallowed hard, almost like he had something to say but didn't want to say it. "Stiles?"
"I don't know, either," he glanced down at his lap.
"Alright," Mr. Landson stepped back, clearing his throat. Emma felt the tension in the room decrease a bit.
"I'll go tell a doctor you're up," Stiles shot out of his seat and went out the door.
"I'm trying to figure out who would call you and tell you that I'm in the hospital," Emma's father said, walking over to her and sitting by her feet on the bed, "And all they said was that I'm the hospital? Nothing else?"
"Nothing else," Emma replied, feeling like she was a witness in a crime he was investigating, "Could it just be someone working at the station- maybe they just wanted to let me know or something?"
"That wouldn't make sense," Mr. Landson snapped.
"You're not- you're not saying this is some kind of set-up, are you?" Emma mumbled. Her father looked over with an unreadable expression. "Dad, who would want Stiles and I to get into an accident? How would they know where we were? Why would they want to.. to kill us?" Emma felt her heartbeat quicken and her breath shortening.
"Emma, relax," her father soothed, placing a hand on her knee. "It's not-"
"Hello, there, Emma," a female voice chirped. Emma looked over to see Stiles coming through the door with a nurse, "How are you feeling?" Emma could see her father stand up.
"I'm okay," Emma answered, trying to act as relaxed as possible, "My right arm kind of hurts, but other than that, I'm fine." The nurse went over to Emma and lightly examined your arm.
"It's pretty badly bruised, I'll get you some more pain killers for that," the nurse answered. Emma listened to her, hoping she would tell her she could go home. "You don't have any broken bones or fractures," the nurse told her, looking down at a clipboard, "It took you quite a while to wake up, so we want to keep you in for observation for tonight." Emma sighed, telling herself not to argue.
"Okay," she agreed.
"I'll be right back with some food and water," the nurse calmly told her. She walked out of the room with a smile.
"I'm lucky nothing's broken," Emma smiled at her father. He still looked worried. The radio on his belt went off.
"Landson, we got a call, need you over here," the muffled voice said.
"Go, dad," Emma replied, "There's probably someone in much worse condition than I'm in needing an officer." Mr. Landson continued to stare at her with his hands on his hips. "Dad, seriously, I'm fine. You heard her- just some bruises." Her father sighed and walked over, planting a kiss on her forehead.
"I love you," he mumbled. It was strange to hear him say it outloud with someone else in the room. He walked out without a single glance at Stiles.
"I'm sorry he was being so.. not nice," Emma turned her head to look at Stiles. He rushed over to his old seat and sat to be in the same level as her.
"If I was him, I'd hate me, too," he replied. Emma shook her head.
"He doesn't hate you," Emma answered, "He just worries like crazy- that's where I get it from." Emma studied Stiles' face, scuffed by cuts and small bruises. "Are you in any pain?"
Stiles' POV
The only pain he was feeling then was the fact that a girl he cared so much about was lying in a hospital bed. It reminded him of his mother. The painful image of her weak self lying on the bed rushed back to him. His mother would be in so much pain, yet she looked at him with such hopeful, glowing eyes.
He was so angry. He could swear he felt a tear building up in his eye, but he refused to let it fall down his cheek. He couldn't understand how he could already care so much for her that he felt a bit scared and vulnerable. He had never let anyone else past the wall that he had built up for himself.
"No, I'm okay," he answered, forcing a smile, "So, what was the deal with your dad?"
"That's the problem," Emma answered, "We have no idea. I don't even know who called me. Why they would call me and say that my dad was hurt." Emma sighed, genuinely puzzled.
"I'm so sorry this happened to you, Emma." He sucked his teeth, so angry with himself.
"This isn't your fault, Stiles," Emma told him, clutching his hand. "What was that.. thing?" Stiles raised his eyebrows and licked his lips as he looked down at the floor. He wanted to tell her the truth. But it was so risky.
"I-I don't know," Stiles lied, unable to look in her warm brown eyes as he was being dishonest.
"I know you well enough to be able to tell when you're lying," Emma told him. It was the first time he could tell she was frustrated with him. As if on cue, the nurse came back, carrying a tray.
"There's a bowl of soup and a bottle of water," she announced, expertly pulling out the tray attached to the bed and placing the low-grade food in front of Emma.
"Thank you," Emma said, polite as always.
"You're welcome, dear," the nurse said. She looked to Stiles' direction with sympathetic eyes, "I'm sorry, but visiting hours will soon be over."
"That's alright," he told her, "I'll leave when you need me to." He had his experience with sitting next to a hospital bed, dreading the idea of being told he had to leave. Yet, he was familiar with the system and accepted it. The nurse gave him a grateful smile and shuffled out of the room.
"You should eat," Stiles pointed to the bland bowl of soup. Emma sighed. He could tell she was trying her hardest to be patient.
"Stiles, please," Emma whispered, "I hate pretending like there's no problem." Stiles figured it was true that opposites attract. He was always one to push problems to the back of the mind and pretend they don't exist.
"What's the problem?"
"You're lying to me!" she half-shouted. Emma bit her lip and looked down, truly unhappy with the situation and herself. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm not normally like this." He knew that. He knew she was naturally kind and patient. But he could understand her frustration.
"I'm not lying." He felt disgusting decieving her like that. Of course he was lying. But how could he possibly tell her it was a werewolf that jumped out in front of the car? That it was a werewolf they saw in the woods that day? Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat.
"Why does it feel like you are?"
"I don't know," he shook his head. It was as if he felt that wall building up again, brick by brick. What could he possibly tell her to make her still like him? There were so many thoughts going around in his head. The fact that this experience reminded him of the bad memories he had involving his mother. The fact that his best friend was a werewolf and he was expected to keep this secret and help him. The fact was, he was the one that needed help. Now more than ever.
"Please tell me what's going on," Emma asked him in a somber tone. Stiles looked up at her, seeing her undeniable frown. It nearly killed him knowing he was the cause of her sadness.
"I feel really guilty about this," he told her. Finally, something true coming out of his mouth.
"Stiles, nothing is your fault here," Emma told him, "It's not your fault at all." She had no idea how amazing it was to hear that. He had felt guilty for everything that went wrong recently. He hated feeling his emotions crashing down on him like this. He felt a buzzing in his pocket for the tenth time since they arrived at the hospital.
"You can get that," Emma told him, picking up the plastic spoon that lay before her, "They're all probably really curious about what happened." Stiles licked his lips and took out his phone from his pocket to see he had 5 missed alerts. "Just.. please don't tell anyone I'm in here." He obeyed her wish and replied to Scott, merely telling him Emma's dad was fine. He looked back up to Emma who was eating the soup.
"This tastes like hair," Emma giggled. Stiles chuckled, so glad he could smile. He was so glad that she wasn't one to stay mad for a long time. Not necessarily for his sake, but for hers. She spent more time happy than mad.
"Yeah, I remember that food tasting like crap." He mentally scolded himself. He reminded her of the fact that he had spent a great deal of time in the hospital when he was with his mother. He turned his gaze over to the window on the other side of the room. He felt Emma's eyes on him. As if she could read his mind, Emma turned her attention back to her food and strayed away from asking him about his mother. He was so relieved she could tell he wasn't up for talking about that part of his life at that moment.
"We ever going back to that hamburger place with the curly fries?"
"How does tomorrow sound? After you get out of here?"
"I'd love to," she beamed at him. He felt his heart get heavier as she smiled at him, thinking of how he was lying to her. He had told her things no-one else knew and she was so trust-worthy. Yet he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth. He licked his lips, mentally telling himself to forget about it.
"You want some hair-soup?" she laughed, bringing the spoon of mustard-yellow soup closer to him. Without thinking, he jerked her arm away, causing her to spill the small amount of soup on the off-white blanket covering her. "Stiles!" she gasped, still laughing. They laughed in unison as he guided the spoon back to the bowl and folded over the blanket to conceal the stain.
"No-one will ever know," he dismissively waved his hand.
"I will," she replied, crossing her arms. He dreamingly looked at her as she supressed her grin. He leaned closer to rest his elbows on the side of the hospital bed.
"You won't tell anyone, will you?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
"On whether or not you're going to kiss me," she simply stated. His pulse quickened. He loved the fact that she was one to tell people what she wanted. He happily accepted and stood up to reach her lips. He felt her soft, warm lips under hers. He pulled away, looking straight into her eyes. "Get me out of here," she chuckled, plopping her hands down on the bed.
"How does tomorrow morning sound?"
"Too late," she giggled.
Emma's POV
Emma continued to look into Stiles' hazel eyes, adoring the feeling he gave her. The feeling that everything would be okay. No matter how bad it could get, it would all be okay because he was there. "Isn't it weird how unpredictable life is?" she acknowledged, reminding herself of the course of the night. She then thought of how she came to this new city, unexpecting that she'd meet someone like Stiles.
"Yeah," he genuinely responded, plopping back down into his seat.
"Hey, thanks for getting me over my fear of heights," she told him, grinning. He smiled back at her.
"I care about you. A lot, Emma," he told her. She sensed his serious tone and swallowed. The boy she was so sure she loved, sitting there, looking so worried.
"Me too," she responded, nodding, fighting the urge to tell him she loved him. There were so many things she had the courage to say to him, but those three words seemed to refuse to come out of her mouth.
"I'm afraid you're going to have to go," the nurse's voice interrupted their comfortable silence. Emma looked over to the door to see the innocent-looking lady smiling at the two of them. She stepped out soon after.
Emma looked over at Stiles and shrugged her shoulders. His serious expression was washed away by a sweet smile.
"Sleep," he calmly told her, standing up and grasping onto her hand. The last thing she wanted right then was for him to leave her. Her heart ached as the feeling of safety he gave her was beginning to disappear as he planted a soft good-bye kiss on her cheek.
As he left without another word, Emma closed her eyes and sighed. She told herself that everything would be resolved tomorrow. She'd be out of this bed and Stiles would tell her the truth and everything would be okay.