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Stiles is a strong person, everyone knows that. There isn't much that could make this boy breakdown, but if there is something it’s losing the people he holds closest to him.
I hadn't met Stiles when his mother died, but going by what I heard from Scott he didn't take it too well, which isn't surprising. Not to mention the time the Sheriff was held captive by Jennifer, he hadn't even died then and Stiles was a wreck. Allison was added to the list not long ago, that hit Stiles like a ton of bricks - it took him months to recover from losing her, even Scott coped better than he did. Even Aiden’s demise broke Stiles a little.
However, with all that, I still never expected Stiles to take my death so badly. I expected him to shrug it off, maybe even grieve a little but I never expected this. He has nightmares. He hallucinates; there have been times I've caught him muttering to himself, like there was someone in the room with him that I couldn't see. I even heard my name once or twice, mainly when he’s sleeping but sometimes it’s random, he’ll just suddenly say my name like he had somehow guessed I was there watching over him.
When I was alive I didn't believe in all that ghost crap; I always thought you died and that’s that. Which is why I was shocked when I was able to look down at myself, stiff and cold, lying on the floor with an arrow sticking out my chest.
At first I was angry, I didn't want to watch my pack grieve, I didn't need to see them in pain - I witnessed enough of that when I was living. The anger soon turned to confusion though. It’s been a month since the wolfsbane-coated arrow came out of nowhere. A month since I jumped in front of Stiles. A month since the arrow pierced through my chest, and yet I still don’t know why I'm being forced to hang around. They can’t see me, they can’t sense when I'm around. There’s nothing I can do to help them but for some reason I'm still here.
I tried to leave them be, let them recover in peace - not that my presence made much difference. Scott was strong, like an alpha should be, he focused on helping the others rather than himself. I always respected that trait in him. Isaac is still struggling, he breaks down at times, he cries a lot. I expected that from him, he used to say I was a better father to him than his own. That was a shock to the system. Lydia is her normal self; acting like she didn't really care when around people, like my death hadn't fazed her at all. I knew otherwise.
None of these reactions compared to Stiles’s. It’s like losing me had brought his whole world to a stand still. I don’t watch him all day, every day but I'm positive he hasn't eaten a full meal since I died. He hasn't showered. He hasn't left the house. The little sleep he gets is broken and full of nightmares. Bad ones too, he’ll wake up screaming, reaching out for someone that isn't there. It’s painful to watch, to see the impact of losing me changing him everyday.
The pack care for him as much as possible, they try their hardest to make him eat, even if it’s just something small. They've attempted to get him to shower but so far they've had no luck, as soon as Stiles is down eating (if taking two bites of sandwich can be classed as eating) he heads straight back to his room. The smell is horrendous. Caring for Stiles takes it’s toll on all of them, the Sheriff especially. It’s gotten to the point where he looks nearly as exhausted as Stiles does.
One night it got pretty extreme; Stiles had passed out from exhaustion, he was unconscious for almost a full hour before he woke up screaming himself hoarse. It was hard to decipher but mixed within the shrieks was my name. The Sheriff was with him instantly, he tried to calm Stiles down but Stiles was just pushing him away. It took ages to get him to quieten down; he’d starting throwing his things around the room. Paper, books, picture frames. Anything he could get his hands on was propelled across the room. It took all of Scott, Isaac and the Sheriff to hold him down. Eventually exhaustion took over and he collapsed again.
That was the first night I tried calling out to them; I yelled until my throat was dry and sore yet it made absolutely no difference. I wanted to reach out to touch him, to help them calm him down. In that moment all I wanted to do was hold him, to soothe him and tell everything was okay. I don’t know where the thoughts came from, most of the time when I'm around Stiles I just want to nail his mouth shut but seeing him go through so much agony was unbearable. I’d rather die a thousand times over than see him suffer like that again.
That was two weeks ago though. Now was different. It was shock to everyone when Stiles climbed out of bed this morning and headed straight to the bathroom. Scott had fallen asleep in the chair in Stiles’s room whilst keeping an eye on him during the night, the look on his face when he heard the sounds of water running was priceless. No one had said anything to Stiles but for some unknown reason he had finally decided to shower. Right now I was gazing at Stiles, with the same astonished look glued to my face as Scott and the Sheriff, as he wolfed down a bowl of cereal, finishing every last drop of milk.
No one made a sound. It’s like Stiles was a deer on the road and if we made any sudden movements he’d bounce straight back to his old self. We watched, turning our heads in unison as Stiles finished his breakfast and bounded up the stairs. I'm not sure about the others but that’s when my shock vanished, my hope disappeared. I thought Stiles had finally recovered but he hadn't, not fully because I knew he was racing up the stairs just to crawl back under the unwashed and rancid sheets.
Scott rose from his seat first, shuffling across the kitchen and climbing the stairs. I could hear him stepping gently, obviously still trying to avoid startling Stiles. When silence filled the following minutes, the Sheriff traced Scott’s steps up the stairs. I followed soon after, padding slowly across the floorboards even though the sounds I made never reached their ears. What I saw upon reaching Stiles’s room I did not expect.
His hair looked smooth and styled, the foul-smelling sheets had been stripped from his bed and were balled up in the corner of his room. Stiles had changed out of the clothes he’s been wearing for the past month, he was now dressed in his usual attire; jeans, a fresh white t-shirt with a blue plaid button-up over the top. The shower had brought some colour back to Stiles’s pale skin, a pink tint now covering his cheeks.
The three of us - Scott, the Sheriff and I - stayed silent as we watched Stiles bounce around his room, making the place spotless. It was Stiles’s dad that spoke up first. The Sheriff coughed to make their presence clear before stepping further into the room.
“You seem… Better” His voice cracked from lack of sleep but despite this he was smiling. It was a smile of relief. Relief that, even it was only for a short period, he had his son back.
Stiles returned the smile and the sight of it caused a swarm of butterflies to start fluttering around inside me. This is first time Stiles has smiled - and I mean a real, warm, comforting smile - for a long, long time. I haven’t seen him smile like this since before the alpha pack invaded. There were half-hearted grins, there were big toothy ones too but none of them were real. They all tried to mask the pain that Stiles kept hidden inside but they did a poor job. But this, this was the real deal and it made my heart melt the more I looked at it.
“I feel better.” Stiles replied. His voice was ragged and it was clear he was still exhausted. “I feel different. Like all of sudden I have so much energy. I don’t really know what to do with it…”
“That’s good. That’s great, but why?” The Sheriff sat on the edge of Stiles’s bed, patting the space next to him to get Stiles to join him, which he did. Both me and Scott remained where we were. “Not that I'm not thrilled you’re up and about but why now?”
What happened next happened too fast for me to know if I had seen it right, but I was sure Stiles glanced in my direction. It could have been directed at Scott but I'm almost certain his eyes locked with mine before he returned his focus to his dad.
“I- I guess you could say I had a feeling.”
“A feeling?” Scott was the one to speak this time, stepping into the room to stand in front of Stiles. “Like what?”
“Like maybe I don’t need to be upset any more. Like maybe I don’t need to feel so alone…”
That time there was no questioning it, Stiles was looking at me. His eyes were focused on mine and he gave me the smallest smile as if to tell he knew I was there. In return I raised an eyebrow, just to check that what I was seeing was real. My heart stopped - even though it technically wasn't beating any more - when Stiles tipped his head, giving me the slightest of nods. He could see me.
“I still don’t understand” Scott spoke up again, following the direction of Stiles’s vision who was still staring at me. Stiles turned his gaze back to Scott and shrugged.
“I don’t know what to tell you. I just have a feeling that Derek isn't gone, not completely. I mean, I know he’s dead, I'm not an idiot, but maybe there’s a chance he’s still around”
“You think he’s a ghost?”
“It’s a possibility.” Stiles shot another glance at me, wiggling his eyebrows before focusing back on the others. I huffed out a laugh and the thought of whether he could hear me suddenly popped into my head.
“Werewolves and ghosts? I don’t know son, it seems pretty far-fetched.”
“Believe what want, the important thing is I'm okay and I will be until something else happens.”
At that the Sheriff shrugged. He patted Stiles on the shoulder and left the room with a ‘glad you’re back’. Scott stayed behind, the two friends laughed and joked together for a while as I stood in the background. It wasn't until late that Scott left, mumbling something about Stiles needing to get some rest and that he’ll come by tomorrow with Lydia.
I waited till the sound of Scott’s bike couldn't be heard any more before speaking up. “Why didn't you say anything?”
Stiles made no reaction to my voice and disappointment coursed through me but then Stiles sighed, rolling over in his bed so he could see me still standing in the doorway.
“About what?” His tone was calm, like Stiles had known about me watching him for days.
“About being able to see me?”
“I was scared…”
I hadn't expected that. I thought maybe Stiles was pretending not to see me, like he was angry I hadn't made it clear that I was still around.
“Scared of what?”
“That if I tried to speak to you, you’d end up being another one of my fucked up hallucinations.”
I didn't know how to respond. A thousand questions raced to the front of my mind but again all I wanted to do was hold Stiles close. I wanted to prove that I was real but I wasn't even sure I was able touch him. It was worth a try.
I shuffled over to his bed, laying down above the sheets with my back resting against the headboard as Stiles moved over to make more room. We stared at each other for a couple of minutes, even though it seemed like hours, before Stiles raised a hand and slowly lowered it onto my arm.
His skin was cold against my own, which was odd considering I was the ghost here. The touch sent a shiver through my entire body and it felt amazing. It felt I had never been touched before. His hand moved from my arm to my chest as he shuffled closer, leaning against me so his head resting against the hand on my chest. I bit my lip, trying to keep the smile off my face but it was an impossible task.
Everything about this moment was perfect. The warmth from Stiles’s body, the intimacy of it, the adorable sounds that escaped Stiles’s mouth as he drifted off to sleep in my arms. My own hand had made it’s way into Stiles’s soft hair, brushing through it with my fingers making Stiles sigh as he relaxed into me even more.
Before he slipped into unconsciousness completely, he mumbled something I could just about comprehend, making my heart melt as I gazed at the beautiful man in my arms. “I'm glad you’re here with me” he said before sleep finally took over.
I stayed with him all night, squeezing him in closer when he began to squirm and twitch from the nightmares. I had finally realised why I was still here; Stiles needed me. He needed to know I was still there for him and I would be happy knowing I get to spend this life being with him because with the silence that filled the house, I couldn't help but think, all I really need is to see Stiles happy, to see him smile and I would die a thousand times to make sure this happens.