Chapter Text
When Stiles was a kid, his dad used to take him to see baseball games at the local college. He /loved/ going to see the baseball games. He loved the crowds and he loved the energy that was so palpable as the pitcher pulled back before launching the ball towards home plate. Of course, sometimes that energy would dissipate if the home team started leaving. The stands would feel lifeless and hollow, the enthusiasm gone as they watched their team lose inning after inning.
Sitting by Erica’s bed as she lay there, Stiles felt that lifeless, hollow feeling. It was like Erica was the team, and she was watching her waste away. It was killing him, and he knew there was nothing he could do to help her. The one thing he could do was continue her work. He started writing himself sticky notes, and when there became too many, he started writing his memories in a journal. He wrote about all of the different places he and his dad used to go when his mom was in the hospital, just to keep him distracted. He wrote about the many different misadventures he and his best friend Scott would go on, from drinking some of his dad’s stolen whiskey in the middle of the woods to sneaking into the school to prank Coach Finstock. He wrote about his mom too. How beautiful she was, what her laugh sounded like, how strong she was when it came to her condition.
A topic he spent a lot of time on was Erica. She was a huge driving force for him to try to keep his memory at the top of its game. He believed with his whole heart that she would wake up someday soon, and when she did, he wanted to be there. He wanted to remember their first kiss and how nice it was to hold her hand. He wanted to remember each kind of smile she had (there were six). He wanted to remember how much she cared for her family and their friends, Cora and Isaac. He wanted to remember all of it, because each memory with her made him feel the hope he needed to get out of bed every day.
Sometimes when he remembered something knew, he would write it down and then go to sit by Erica’s bed, reading her the story connected to that memory. He didn’t know if she could hear him, but it helped him feel like he wasn’t as alone as he felt. Cora and Isaac visited almost every day, reminding him that he was still welcome to watch movies with them, but he told them he didn’t want to leave her. They understood, but he knew they were worried about him as much as they were Erica.
Days passed, and there was no progress with Erica. She still lay there in her bed, her heartbeat remaining normal but showing no sign of waking up. Stiles could barely sleep, and he knew if it weren’t for him proactively trying to keep his memory intact, it would be deteriorating.
Two weeks after Erica went into her coma, there was a knock on her door.
"Come in," Stiles called out, holding Erica’s hand as he looked through his journal. The door opened and he turned to see Scott entering with a vase of flowers. Stiles stood from his seat and almost ran into his friend’s arms, hugging him tightly as the stress from the situation finally broke over him. He cried softly, Scott holding him close and rubbing his back to comfort him. When Stiles calmed down, he sniffled and pulled away, taking a deep breath as he smiled sadly at his friend.
"Any progress?" Scott asked, moving towards Erica and placing the flowers on her bedside table. Stiles shook his head, then looked down before sitting in the seat he had been before. "How have you been, man? You been sleeping?"
Stiles shrugged. “I’ve been sleeping enough… It’s been a bit hard though. Got a lot on my mind.”
"I know you do, but you have to sleep. It’s the best thing for you, especially with your condition."
"You think I don’t know that, Scott?" he snapped, causing the other boy to sigh and look down. "I’m sorry, I’m just- I don’t like leaving her alone. If I could, I would move my bed in here and sleep beside her but obviously I can’t do that."
"Stiles…" Scott started, but Stiles waved him off, stopping him from continuing.
"Don’t okay? Don’t give me that look or use that tone. I know you think that this is ridiculous, but you don’t know her like I do. You don’t-" he paused, looking at Erica carefully. "I feel better when I’m with her, bro. Even now, just holding her hand makes me feel okay. So you can say that we’ve only been together for so long, but I have never felt the way that I feel towards Erica."
He looked over at his friend to see him smiling softly. “You love her.”
Stiles was taken aback by his words, and he went to shake his head and argue, but he couldn’t. There had been a part of him that thought that way, but the rational side of him pushed that thought away. He couldn’t love her. It was too fast, they were too young, there were too many complications. But as the days went by, he knew that part of him had been right all along.
"Yeah, I do love her," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Pretty sure I have for a while."
"That’s great man. I’m happy for you… But," he started, crossing his arms over his chest.
"But she’s in a coma and she might never wake up. I know that, Scott," Stiles stated, looking over at him. "That isn’t going to stop me from loving her."
"Stiles-"
"No," he stopped him once more, shaking his head. "I knew what I we getting into when we started this. I knew what I was going to have to face when I started having feelings for her. This was my choice and I don’t regret it. She’s going to wake up, and when she does, I’m going to do anything and everything I can to make her happy."
"If that’s what you want," Scott muttered, moving over towards Erica and smiling sadly. They let a comfortable silence settle between them, the only noise filling the room being the steady bleep from Erica’s heart monitor and her normal breathing. "She doesn’t know, does she?"
"No. I only realized it after she went into her coma," Stiles said, holding Erica’s hand and running his thumb back and forth over the back of it. "I’ve said it a few times to her though. I talk to her all the time actually."
"About what?" Scott wondered, grabbing a chair and pulling it to the side of her bed before sitting in it.
"Everything," he chuckled. "I tell her about what I watched the night before. I tell her about things that I’ve been remembering. I tell her about you and my dad and my mom. I even told her about Lydia. I tell her about how I know that Lydia was just a crush, because I never felt the way about her like I do Erica."
"Are you saying you’re over Lydia Martin?" Scott asked, a teasing tone to his voice before he laughed a bit.
"I think I’ll always care about Lydia, but I never got to know the real her. I know the parts of her I’ve seen and I think she’s still beautiful, but she’s not my person, you know?" Stiles tried to explain.
"Not like Erica is," he finished for him.
"Not like Erica is," Stiles agreed, smiling at the still girl. "She came out of nowhere, man. She snuck up on me and I fell so hard. I remember my dad telling me before I went to high school how he and my mom got together. They’d been in each other’s classes all through high school, and then during their senior year, they were paired up for a project. That was it for him. He completely fell for her while working on that project. Of course, being him, it took him another six years before he made a move and then they were dating and then married and then I came along. I remember he told me that he just /knew/ she was the one, and that he wished he had just gone for her from the beginning. I don’t want to have that kind of regret, Scott."
"What do you mean?" Scott asked, cocking his head to the side a bit.
"I need you to do me a favor, and you can’t question me or judge me okay?"
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The day Erica woke up, Stiles was not in the room. She took a few moments to look around, smiling sweetly at the flowers, cards, and balloons that were scattered around her room. Then her eyes landed on a bright blue sticky note. She reached over and picked it up, a small laugh escaping her when she realized Stiles had written it.
'The nurses said you should be waking up soon. If you're reading this, then you are awake which is awesome. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up, but I will be back soon.'
She smiled brightly, knowing Stiles would be there soon. She was about to put the note back when she noticed there was some writing on the back. Turning it over, her eyes grazed over the three words.
'I love you.'
Tears welled in her eyes as her fingers ran over each letter, her heart swelling. He loved her. Before she could do anything else, her door opened and Stiles walked in, a vase full of lilies, her favorite, in his hands.
"You’re awake," he breathed, moving to put the vase on her bedside table before sitting next to her.
"I’m awake," she confirmed. "And you remember me."
He reached up and brushed back her hair as he nodded. “I’ve been doing some studying every day. Your notes and a journal I’ve been keeping have helped me keep from forgetting.”
"You haven’t had any relapses?" He shook his head, and she closed her eyes in relief as she laid her hand over hers on her cheek. "I’m so happy for you Stiles."
"I couldn’t have done it without you," he told her, leaning forward to kiss her softly, stealing her breath away and making her heart skip a beat. "I love you, Erica," he whispered against her lips.
"I love you too," she spoke back, a tear rolling down her cheek.
"Hey, why the tears?" he asked, pulling away a bit to brush it away with his thumb.
She shook her head and ran her fingers through his hair. “I just never thought I would hear those words. Especially not from someone as wonderful as you.”
Stiles smiled brightly before leaning down and kissing him once more, his fingers weaving through her hair and sending a thrill through her. He pulled away once more, this time separating completely before licking his lips. “You’ve been out for a while, which gave me a lot of time to think.”
"Stiles, if you’re going to try to break up with me again, I swear to God-" she started, but he shook his head and smiled, stopping her from continuing.
"When I found out you were in a coma, it felt like someone had punched me in the gut. I felt sick, and not just because I was afraid about what this would mean for you," he admitted, rubbing his hands on his jeans. "You have become such a huge part of my life, Erica. You’ve helped me with my condition and you’ve made me feel like I’m not defined by my dementia."
A small smile grew on her lips before she gasped when he stood from his chair and knelt on one knee, taking her hand in his. “Stiles,” she breathed, shaking her head a bit in disbelief.
"I love you, Erica. I love you and I know that life is too short to let that be the end to our story. I don’t know how much time either of us have left, but I don’t want to spend what time I have left without you in it." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box, opening it to reveal a simple but beautiful diamond ring. "Erica Josephine Reyes," he spoke, his hands shaking a bit. "Will you marry me?"