Healing Love- Stiles Stilinski

Chapter Eighty- Lost Time

"What?" Taken aback, Stiles blurted out the first thing which came to his mind.

"Topaz is the birthstone for November." Rosie didn't even lift her head to look at him, making her miss the pure reaction on Stiles' face, filled with glee.

His head up In the clouds, his heart beating a little faster, Stiles forced himself to stop dreaming, to find the truth behind the necklace and his mothers link to it. "Why?"

"When mom was working and I was at home with Dad, I hated it. Before Scott introduced you to me, I always stayed home with him. All he would do is drink and shout. When your mom came round to drop off some stuff for my mom, she heard him screaming at the top of his lungs at me and saw me crying. From then on, she took care of me and also introduced me to you." She lifted her head from his shoulder, making their eyes meet for what seemed like the first time in forever.

Words escaped him, but not from his mouth. Stiles had no idea what to say to that, whether to go into the depths of the terrifying deep waters of the subject of his mother or not. But he didn't have time to decide as the head which rested under his, removed itself and Rosie stood up.

"Could you give me a ride home please?" She queried, a somber tone hidden behind her convincing smile which looked down upon Stiles, sat on the steps.

Again, he didn't speak but instead just nodded. Neither did he on the way home from the rave. Neither did she. They both consumed themselves in the outside world, away from the increasing tension which resided between the driver and passenger seat. Though Rosies neck was aching, she did not allow herself to turn it in any degree in Stiles' direction, so when the car pulled up outside her house, she was relieved.

"Thanks." With the smallest smile possible, Rosie said bluntly as she got out the car and closed the door, leaving the words she wished she had said within the jeep, along with whom she wanted to say them to.

His brown longing eyes followed her as she walked up her front lawn to her door, not looking back once, no matter how much he hoped she would. As she reached the door, Stiles fought with himself whether to run after her or be the coward that defines him. He chose the latter.

Rosie heard the screeches of the tires as they carried the car and Stiles within it along the road and away from her home. She called out to her mother and once she received no response, assumed that she must be at work. She was home alone.

Grabbing her phone out of the pocket in her skirt, she immediately went to phone her brother, needing to be reassured he was okay, knowing Dereks word was not always right. The phone rang in her ear like a heartbeat, as if she was laying on someones chest and once the other end answered, it was like resuscitation.

"Rosie?" A grunting Scott opened their conversation, sounding as if he had a raspy voice due to inhaling that much wolfsbane.

"Scott, are you okay? Where are you?"

"Deatons, hes helping but I have to go now." He released a loud wail, hurting Rosies ears and scaring her. "It's the healing process, okay? I'll be just fine."

The phone line went dead and she was no longer talking to her brother but stood feeling rather helpless, not achieving the reassurance she wanted. All that she wanted to do was to heal him, just like she had done before, but Derek had pushed her away for reasons unknown.

She began to walk upstairs when her eyes instantly focused on something which was on the floor outside Scotts room, screwed up. It was Stiles red flannel shirt and she had recognized it instantly. Her body moved itself towards It, like a force of magnetism, and picked it up, feeling the soft fabric in her hands. As she did so, her back hit the back of the wall as she fell down it, breaking down but no tears escaped.

In her mind, she couldn't help but wonder what would've been for them if the bad things had never separated them in the first place. If they would have been more than just a 'what if' or more than what they were. Knowing those questions wouldn't be answered sitting on the floor, feeling sorry for herself, she lifted herself up, heading to tell Stiles what she had zipped up inside.

Sure, she could have called him and told him, but he deserved it in person, it would be more authentic. With each stair which went under her, she hyped herself up, making herself believe that no matter what happens, she would tell him. She has to.

At the bottom of the stairs, her heart stopped. In front of her was a figure hidden in the darkness, lingering in the shadows, hiding their identity. It was as if this person had been waiting for her. Which he had but did not intend to wait for long.

Stiles stepped forward into the moon light, revealing himself to her though it didn't decrease her heart rate nor the shock. She had heard him drive away but never heard him hit the brakes hard just down the street so he could get out and speak to her. Make up for lost time.

"Look i don't care that you think this was a mistake or whatever, i just need you to know, okay?" He spoke before she could, after rehearsing what he would say and how he would say it on the walk from his car. Allowing him to speak, Rosie nodded slowly. "Everything I said... everything... i meant it all. I still do."

"Stiles-"

"No, i know. I just needed you to know, given the situation we are in with the supernatural and all." Stiles cut her off with an assertive tone. No more of his uncertain voice or wavering one. "You could have died tonight, or any other night. We all could have. But with you, i don't think i could have lived with myself knowing you believed i lied to you."

After spending loads of time believing the worst and that he never loved her, it was hard for Rosie to interpret what he was saying and even harder for her to say it back when she missed the chance to.

"There, i said it." Sniffing, Stiles laughed at himself as he couldn't take seeing her empty expression and began to turn and walk away, getting as far as the door.

"This wasn't a mistake." Her eyes glistened as she saw him stop at the door, his hand clutching the handle. It slipped off it while he turned to face her again, trying to see whether he was dreaming or not. Which he now knew that he wasn't.

"You said to me that you made a big mistake. You said it about us. You said you made a mistake."

"My mistake wasn't liking you, nor was it giving this a chance. It wasn't even telling you." Her feet were a mind of their own as they took steps closer to him, decreasing the distance between them. "My mistake was letting you go, letting the love of my life go."

He inhaled sharply, not expecting Rosie to say that she didn't regret what they had let alone that he was the love of her life. Just like usual when around her, especially recently, he was speechless. Nothing that came to his mind was good enough for him to say to her.

"And i never said it back." Her voice broke and so did his heart as he heard her fall mentally. The tears which creeped up onto her eyes did not wait as they were full of regret which she had been creating ever since that night.

"You didn't have to." Closing the small space between them, Stiles took her face in his delicate hands as he did what he had been wanting to do for so long and kissed her.