Sometimes it takes a while to notice things. Even the smartest people are ignorant or oblivious to their feelings. In moments of crisis, your emotions are the least important thing on your mind. You've got so much on your mind from others' safety to your own, but there is always that one person that is your main objective. They may be your husband, wife, son, or daughter – who knows – but they're important to you. It's when that person is in trouble when you realize how important they are to you. 

          Joan could only imagine what had happened to Stiles in Eichen House hours ago. A mixture of emotions were coursing through her veins the longer it took her to reach the hospital. Joan was scared, she was hopeful, but most of all she was disappointed in herself. She could have been there, she could have done something, but instead she was being naïve and doing something she wanted to do with Argent.

          She lightly shook her head as she parked her car. There was nothing she could of done. It was in the past now. All that was left for her to do now was to make sure Stiles was okay and do the one thing that's been on her mind for the past couple of weeks.

           Once she saw Melissa, the woman immediately ask her if she was ok. Joan looked like a mess thanks to the scattered bruises and bumps that were beginning to form on her body, as well as the slightly crazed look in her eyes.

          Joan waved her hand nonchalantly at Melissa, sending her a small, caring smile, "I'm fine, Melissa. Just a few bumps and bruises, nothing new. Where's Stiles?" 

          Melissa shook her head at the girl's recklessness, turning on her heels and beginning to make her way back to the young Stilinski's room. Joan followed without hesitation, squeezing past workers here and there in the crowded hallways.

          Joan's heart skipped a beat when they made it to Stiles' room, her mind racing with ideas of what she'd find. Melissa sent Joan a reassuring smile before opening up the door. A groan could easily heard as the door continued to open, "Melissa, I'm fine! You don't need to keep checking up on me."

          "You're not fine, Stiles. You have a concussion," Melissa replied matter-of-factly. "But, for your information, I'm not here to scold you into stay. You've got a guest." Melissa grinned cheekily, moving out of the doorway so Joan could step inside before exiting and closing the door behind her.

          Without hesitation, Stiles stood up from the bed and wrapped his arms around Joan's small frame. Joan jumped in surprise before slowly wrapping her arms around Stiles' waist and laying her head against his chest. She could easily hear his heart pounding from within his chest. The two stood in silence for several seconds, happy to know that the other one was safe in their arms and not being maimed to death by some supernatural creature or an assassin.

          Joan was the first to pull away, her eyes darting across his face to see if their were any visible wounds. Her eyes locked with the light bruise that had formed on the left side of his face. "What happened to you?" she whispered in concern, her fingers lightly gracing the bump.

          Stiles flinched at her touch, pain spiking his skull. He shook his head in disbelief, "What happened to me? What happened to you?! You've got bruises all over you!"

          "I'm not the one in the hospital, so your wound is much more concerning than my own. These are just from training anyway, nothing major," Joan shot back.

          "Training? Why were you training?" Stiles asked, squinting in confusion at the brunette in front of him.

          Joan shrugged, running her fingers through her hair. "I just wanted to know how to protect people– protect you..."

          "Me?" Stiles asked in astonishment. "Joan, you don't need to protect me. I went in there knowing what might happen. I wasn't really surprised that Brunski was a serial killer. I sort of got that vibe from him the first time we met. Plus, I'm fine. I just have a bruised cheek and maybe a concussion. I'm totally, one hundred percent  fine–" Stiles eyes were wide as he was abruptly told to shut up.

          Stiles couldn't believe what has happened to him in the short span of less then twelve hours. First, there was the fact that Brunski almost killed Lydia and himself. Second, Meredith hadn't actually killed herself and instead had been the Benefactor the whole time. Third, he found out that Joan really truly, cared for him. And fourth, Joan was kissing him.

           Her lips were pressed firmly against his, and her hands caressed his face. Her lips were soft and and warm against his chapped lips. Stiles' eyes were wide open for several seconds in surprise before he melted into the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him, not wanting to let her go. 

           Joan titled her head a little to the right, her nose now touching Stiles' cheek as they continued to kiss. Joan pressed her lips onto Stiles' firmly before slowly moving her head away to breathe. Her eyes remained shut for several moments before she looked up at Stiles. The two stood still in a comfortable silence in each other's embrace.

          "What– what was that for?" Stiles stuttered out, his breathing heavy from the kiss.

          A blush creeped its way upon Joan's cheeks as she looked up at Stiles. "I wanted to make sure you were fine myself, "Joan mumbled, her hands falling from his face to wrap around his neck.

          "Oh," Stiles explained, his eyes wide. "Would– Do you wanna... I don't know... check again? Just to make sure."

          A grin broke out on Joan's face as she nodded lightly, "Yeah. Yeah, I will. You can never be too sure."

»

          There was one thing missing as the two humans sat on Stiles' hospital bed. Their hands were intertwined and placed between them while Joan's head was resting on Stiles' shoulder. The two were waiting for Melissa to come with a tape player.

          Joan couldn't figure it out. She was happy; for the first time in a long time she was happy with her life. She wasn't regretting finding out that Scott was a werewolf or that she was even involved in the supernatural world. On the contrary, Joan couldn't have felt more thankful.It was the supernatural that brought her closer to Stiles, no matter how long they tried to deny it. But, here they were in a comfortable silence just having kissed for the first time, and Joan felt incomplete.

          Even with that happiness, there was still something missing. Joan tried to ignore that feeling in her chest, wanting to only focus on the person beside her, but she couldn't get the thought out of her head. 

           They'd hurt her, and Joan wasn't sure if she'd ever forgive them. They had no right to do what they did and Joan hoped she realize that soon.

           "Hey, you okay?" Stiles asked, squeezing their interlocked hands.

          Joan nodded reassuringly, "Yeah. I was just thinking."

          "About what?"

          "You," Joan answered truthfully, smiling up at Stiles. "The pack. Everyone. But mostly you."

          Stiles laughed lightly, grinning down at the beautiful girl beside him, "I was thinking about you too."

          "Hmm. How so?" Joan hummed, her lips curling into a grin.

          Stiles opened his mouth to reply back sarcastically when Melissa knocked on the door. "You find a tape player?" he asked, pulling Joan to stand next to him.

           Melissa shook her head, "No. But I found someone looking for you." The duo watched as Malia slowly entered the room. The were-coyote stood tentatively in front of them, her eyes darting between the two and the floor. 

          "I heard you almost got killed," Malia finally spoke as Melissa closed the door behind her.

          "I heard you almost got killed," Stiles replied back instantly, wanting nothing more than to have Malia forgive Joan and himself.

          "You okay?"

          Stiles shrugged, "Brunski punched me in the face. Turns out he was a serial killer."

          A small smile formed upon Malia's face, but as soon as it appeared it faded. "Makes sense. What about you?"

          "I was training with Argent. I got hit with a stick a lot," Joan admitted, her eyes softening. "Are you okay?"

          "We almost got set on fire," Malia answered bluntly, seeming unfazed by her near death experience.

          "Everyone okay?"

          Malia shrugged, her eyes locked on the two in front of her, "Basically."

          "You okay?" 

          "I'm fine," Malia deadpans. The two humans could easily tell that she wasn't, her eyes gave it away. Joan took a small step forward, wanting nothing more than to wrap Malia in a tight hug. "I'm gonna go," Malia quickly said, about to turn on her heels.

          Stiles shook his head, taking a step forward, "You don't have to."

          Malia shook her head in disagreement, "I should go." She quickly turned around and turn the doorknob, expecting it to open the door. She furrowed her eyebrows when the door didn't budge. "It's locked."

           "Why would she lock the door?" Stiles rhetorically asked, standing beside Malia and trying to open the door. After several failed attempts he hits his fist against the door a couple times in hopes of gaining Melissa's attention. "Uh... Hey, Melissa? Melissa."

           Silence was their only response as they stared through the small glass panel in the door. Stiles continued turn the door knob.

           "I could break it," Malia suggests nonchalantly.

          Joan and Stiles quickly shook their heads, the former instantly replying, "Let's not do that. I don't think any of us really have the money to pay them back for that..."

           "Yeah, I already owe this hospital enough money," Stiles admitted sheepishly, rattling the doorknob once more.

          "Why would she lock the door?" Malia asked in confusion and agitation as she stepped away from the door.

           Stiles shrugged, turning away from the door beside Joan, "Maybe she didn't mean to."

           Malia rolled her eyes, not believing Stiles, "You don't just accidentally lock a door."

          "Maybe she wasn't thinking," Joan suggested, feeling as though the conversation was straying away from Melissa locking the door. "Sometimes people do things without fully thinking them through."

          "Then she's stupid."

          "No, even smart people can do stupid things," Stiles insisted, Joan nodding in agreement. "You know, 'cause they think that it's the right thing. And I don't think we should hold it against her, you know, for the rest of her life! Especially because she's tried apologizing hundreds of times through texts and voicemails."

          Malia looked down at the floor once more before looking up at the two humans in front of her, "Is she gonna keep begging?"

          "She might," Joan answered sympathetically.

          "I don't have much practice in things like forgiveness," Malia admitted sheepishly, twiddling with her thumbs. "Some things I'm picking up fast. But other things are like..."

          "Like math," Stiles and Joan said together.

           Malia bites her lip, trying to resist the urge to chuckle at the two in front of her, "I hate math."

          "You hate us?"

          Malia shook her head profusely, "I like you, Stiles. And I like you, Joan. I like you both a lot."

          The two humans grinned, looking at Malia with relief. "We can work with that," Stiles explained before pulling Malia and Joan into a group hug. Joan laughed lightly, wrapping her arms around her two favorite people.

          This was what she was missing. She missed being on good terms with Malia. Now everything was perfect, well as perfect as it could be when you live in Beacon Hills.

          Malia sniffed the duo, immediately pulling away with a smirk on her face, "You two kissed!"

          "What?! How'd you–" Stiles stuttered out, his cheeks becoming bright red.

           Joan awkwardly stood beside Stiles, visibly blushing, "Maybe we did... Maybe we didn't."

           "Ha! Scott, Kira, and Lydia owe me twenty bucks!"

           Joan and Stiles gap at Malia, their embarrassment and awkwardness disappearing. "You guys made a bet for when we'd kiss?!"

           Malia nodded obliviously, confused on why they were asking her the obvious, "Yeah, that's whats I just said. I betted that you guys would kiss the week of the Bonfire! Scott and Kira guessed that it would happen a week or two before, while Lydia guessed it would happen next week. You guys kissed the day after the Bonfire, meaning that I won!"

          Joan rolled her eyes, a smile nonetheless gracing her lips, "Congrats, Malia."

           "I still can't believe you guys made a bet about us!" Stiles exclaimed in confusion, earning a laugh from Malia and Joan. 

»

It happened! I finally made them kiss, haha! And Malia has officially forgiven them! 

The Stilinski-Arcs family is whole once again! (To be honest, I think Joan would defiantly hyphenate her last name once she gets married.)

I hope you guys liked this chapter, the build up for it has been happening for awhile! Don't forget to comment and vote!

– Logan