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He wasn’t there when it happened. He’s not sure if not being there means he’s better off. The aftermath is bad and the aftermath of the aftermath isn’t much better.
It takes him a week to be able to look Scott in the eye.
He’s never seen his best friend so devastated. Scott says, “It wasn’t you,” and “You don’t have to apologize,” but Stiles feels like he does.
He didn’t see the blade cut into Allison but he felt the way the sword twisted when he plunged it into Scott.
He doesn’t know what hurts worse. Allison’s death. Or Scott’s heartbreak.
Scott, bless his heart, keeps asking how he is. Like he’s the one who just lost one of the most important people in his life. Like he’s the one who is going to carry that loss around forever.
"Are you sure you’re alright?" Scott asks him over and over, earnest, concerned.
Stiles doesn’t know how to tell him that he doubts he’ll every be alright. He doesn’t know how to tell Scott that he can’t stop thinking about her and about everything she’ll never do. He can’t stop thinking about everything that she and Scott could have had.
He doesn’t say any of that, though. He makes himself smile, clap Scott on the shoulder.
"Yeah, man. I’m fine."