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There was something about hospitals that made Stiles uneasy. Probably because he watched his mother die in one all alone. It set him on edge, being here with doctors and nurses constantly checking in on him. Hands tied to the bed for his own safety.
They try to get him to eat but he refuses, turning his head away when they bring in his tray. “I’m not hungry.” “I don’t feel well.” “I just want to sleep.”
He says the words over and over again until he believes them. Eventually they put in a feeding tube and he has no choice. His father signs off on it.
“Are you ever going to eat real food?” John asks as he sits by Stiles bedside. “You’ll wither away to nothing if you keep this up.”
“That’s kind of the point.”
Stiles has become numb to his father crying, even now as John breaks down for the millionth time today he just turns his head and glances out the window.
“Knock, knock.” His doctor peaks his head into the room and says, “you have another visitor.”
Derek comes in and Stiles is mildly surprised to see him. He hasn’t seen Derek since the night of the attempt and was sure that Derek was finally done with him. But here Derek stands, same clothes from that night, eyes heavy and tired.
“I’ll give you two a moment.” John says quietly, slipping out of the room like a ghost.
They don’t say anything for a while, just looking at each other. Then, Stiles says, “so?”
“What happened? I knew you weren’t doing well but you seemed happy.” Derek finally sits hands coming up to grip Stiles’.
Stiles turns to look out the window, “I don’t want to be alive anymore.”
“It hurts me that you say that.”
“And it hurts me that you saved me, Derek.” Stiles whips his head around and yanks his hand away, “I wanted- I want to die. I don’t want to be here and you had no right to take that from me.”
“You can’t say things like that!” Derek stands enough to make the chair slide and smack the wall. “how can you expect me to just let you kill yourself! How are we even having this conversation eight now.”
Derek starts pacing the room, hands digging into his hair and pulling.
“I killed Allison, Derek. I killed and hurt so many people-“
“We’ve been over this, none of that was your fault. You were possessed, it could have happened to any of us.” Derek came slowly back over to the bed and played with the ring holding Stiles’ hand to the bar.
“It’s not just that, Derek. It just the cherry on top of my pile of shit life. I’m ignored, unwanted. You can’t tell me that all of your lives wouldn’t be easier without me.” Derek opened his mouth to rebuttal, but Stile forcefully continued, “Scott wouldn’t have to see the love of his life’s murderer, my father wouldn’t have to worry about us constantly fighting dangerous people, and you... you wouldn’t have to put up with me.”
“What does that even mean?” Derek let out a deep sigh and pulled the chair back into place.
“Me constantly asking you if you still love me? Asking what you see in me? I know it hurts you and you think I don’t know about your nightmares? You call for me to stop hurting people.” Stiles rolls his eyes towards the ceiling, letting his head flop back onto the overly fluffy pillow, “I’ve got nothing left. I’m tired.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.”
A cold chill ran through Stiles at the words. There was no pity, no anger. There was nothing at all. Just words said to fill the void of what would have been an awkward silence. Derek was at his whits end, Stiles could tell.
“You don’t have to be here. Don’t tell the doctors but I plan to try again as soon as I get out of here.” He made it sound like a joke and wasn’t sure if it was or not.
“I won’t let you. I’ll bite you if I have to.”
“I’ll take a wolfsbane bullet to the skull, it doesn’t scare me.” Stiles lets out a light chuckle, closing his eyes. “Nothing scares me anymore.”
“We’ll get through this Stiles. I’m sorry your brain is attacking you this way, making you think all these horrible things about yourself. But we’ll help you, me, your father, the pack. I know you’re trying to push me away and your father, but we won’t let you.”
“Please just leave.” Stiles says quietly, “I’m tried.”
Derek sighs and leaves.
Days later sees stiles finally eating real food. If he ever wanted out of this place he would have to convince everyone that he’s doing better. It was just pudding, crackers and juice for now but the Doctors told him that if he kept it up he’d be out in a week. With mandatory group therapy, of course.
His father was looking happier at least. Less tired and more alert. He hasn’t been crying as much.
Derek visits everyday. They mostly sit in silence because neither of them really know what to say anymore.
Scott and the rest haven’t visited at all. It doesn’t surprise him but it hurts deep in his chest every time the door opens and it isn’t them. He thinks it should have a deeper meaning, like he should change in order to keep his last remain friends, his family, but he can’t muster up the strength.
On the day he gets to go home he’s with Derek and his father. He’s in the front seat, eyes tracking each tree the flys past but he can feel Derek watching him, alert. Like Stiles is going to open the car door and jump out going seventy down the freeway. Honestly, he’s thinking about it. He imagines in great detail what would happen. He’d open the door, jump too fast for Derek or his father to catch him. He knows it wouldn’t be ideal. They are at the far lane so there’s no traffic on his side which means he’d have a better chance of surviving and just end up bruised and broken physically to match him emotionally. That’s not an ideal outcome.
They pull up to the pack house and Stiles is confused for a moment before he realizes that his father probably has to get back to work at some point and won’t always be around to watch him. He gets out of the car and heads straight for the house. It’s silent as everyone else is at school.
Stiles goes upstairs to find a guest room and immediately crawls under the covers and pulls them over his head. He can hear Derek and his father talking downstairs but ignores it, simply curling deeper into the soft comforter. Soon, he falls asleep.
The next day sees Stiles and Derek sitting silently at the dinning table, food in front of them but neither are eating.
“How’d you sleep?” Stiles asks just to say something, the silence was killing him.
“I didn’t.” Derek says as he takes a sip of orange juice, “I just kept listening to your heart beat. I was afraid something would happen.”
“Jesus.” Stiles looks down at his food and decides that eating even though he feels sick is a lot better then the look on Derek’s face.
“I know you aren’t happy about it but I’m glad I was there. I can’t imagine losing you, Stiles.” Derek is watching him, eyes looking close to spilling tears.
“Why were you there?”
“Cora was upset that I didn’t bring you with me. She said no one should be alone on Christmas so we came back to spend it with you.” He says, gripping his fork tighter, “I could smell... you know seizures have a smell? Well, it was like it was pouring out of the house. I knew something was wrong and you weren’t answering.”
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Stiles says, “really, I am.” Stiles says at Derek’s disbelieving look. He sighs and takes a bite of his eggs. “I couldn’t imagine walking in on one of you like that.”
“So you know how i feel? How devastated and scared i was? I really thought I was going to lose you.” Derek pushes his plate away, leaning his elbows on the table so he could hold his head in his hands, “I would have followed you. Wether it be a week, a month, a year. Eventually I would have followed you. I love you, Stiles. I can’t live without you.” He looks up from the table then, “You helped me when I felt how you are and I’m going to help you now. You wont want it, I didn’t, but in the end I’m a better man for it.”
“I don’t know if I want to be helped and I don’t now how to change that.” Stiles gets up and takes seat closer to Derek, “I can’t promise you anything, but I do love you Derek. I’ll try ok?”
Derek looks up and cradles Stiles face in his hands, thumb brushing of his cheek bone,” That’s all I ask.”
“Stiles? Hey, Stiles? Lydia made those Sundays you like.”
Stiles tenses as he slowly wakes up, Scott’s voice piercing through his nightmare. He sits up but can’t manage to look Scott in the eyes. He feels Scott grab his wrist and inspect the thin while line, his first attempt. Scott’s thumb brushes over it.
“Derek called me. He said that maybe you could use some friends right now.” Scott says as he pulls his hand away and stands up. “Everyone’s down stairs, Lydia made those shakes you like.”
He leaves and it’s like he takes all the air in the room with him. Stiles suddenly feels incredibly small. Scott never acts like that with him. They get along so well that they never have awkward moments like that. Things really have changed haven’t they? He’d hurt Scott even more. How could he do that? Scott couldn’t even look Stiles in the eye.
Stiles gets up and walks down stairs, it’s so quiet that if he couldn’t hear spoons clanking against glass, he would have thought no one was here at all.
He takes a seat at the large dinning table, feeling very uncomfortable as everyone glances at him. Waiting.
“Am I going to get a Shake or what?” He asks, trying to force out a genuine smile.
The pack seems to lighten up, except Derek, who’s standing by the fridge with his arms crossed and head down.
“Thanks.” Stiles says as Lydia makes him a glass and slides it over to him. “So, what’s new?”
“I got an A on my English paper.” Liam says quietly, spoon twirling around the mix of melted ice cream in the bottom of his glass. “You... weren’t around to help like you said but Kira helped me.”
“That’s good.” See? They could get along just fine without him.
“I got your homework for you,” Lydia says, “they are going to give you time to do it all but you’re going to have to work your ass off so that it won’t mess with your final grades.”
“Ok, well thank you I appreciate that.”
Suddenly Scott slams his spoon down on the table causing everyone to look in his direction.
“I can’t do this!” Scott stands and and faces Stiles, ”how can you sit there and act like nothing happened? Like you didn’t try to kill yourself?”
“Scott..” Stiles was stumped. “I don’t really know what to say.” He glances around at the table feeling very uncomfortable.
Scott was looking at him with a look Stiles had never seen directed at him before, not even when he killed Alison. He was so angry that his eyes were starting to change and he was huffing out a small growl with every breath.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Kira says, pointedly grabbing Scott’s arm, “right, Scott?”
“No,” he rips his arm away and moves to stand in front of Stiles, “I want an explanation. Why would you do that to yourself? Do you have any idea how much I would hate myself if something like that happened to you and I did nothing about it?”
Stiles scrambles to find an answer but the sad fact is: he didn’t think Scott would care much at all.
“But... Allison.”
“Stiles, that’s enough, you need to stop blaming yourself for things that weren’t your fault! If I hated you, you would know. I’m sick of all this, your pathetic!” Even as Scott said it, Stiles could tell he didn’t mean it.
Suddenly, Derek has Scott pressed against the wall.
“Don’t talk to him like that.” Derek says with a growl in his voice.
“Derek, it’s ok.” Stiles says, standing up, “he’s not wrong. I am pathetic.” He looks down, away from the eyes of his pack, “I want to die. I want to run away from my problems because I’m not strong enough to face them. To be honest, there’s nothing any of you could have done to stop me.”
“Stiles...” Derek turns to him, expression pained, “please don’t say things like that.”
“It’s the truth. I’m tried. So fucking tired that I don’t have the energy to fake it anymore. I’m not happy. I don’t know if I ever was.” Stiles looks down at his melting Shake. He feels tears beginning to gather along his waterline, “my life has been one shoe after another. Always dropping, always ruining good things. I’m just sick of it.” He turns to Lydia, “I’m sorry, I’m not that hungry, if you need me I’ll be in my room.”
His first group therapy session goes just as well as he thought it would. There are a few people like him who think waking up every morning does more harm then good but there are also people there who have found the light at the end of the tunnel. They make Stiles angry. How did they do it; forgive themselves and move on. It didn’t seem as easy as they were making it out to be. When it was Stiles’ turn to share, he sat in silence for a long moment.
“Hi, my name is Stiles.”
The group murmurs a chorus of, “Hi, Stiles.”
He lets out a long sigh, “I’m here because I tried to kill myself.” He avoids the sorrow filled eye of the group by looking down at his hands, “I took a bunch of pills and washed them down with some whiskey. My boyfriend came in and saved my life and I hate him for it. I should be happy right? That he cared enough to save me? But every time I look at him I want to tell him that he had no right to do that. I want to tell him that I’m not worth saving.”
“It’s natural to feel that way. “ The counselor says in a sympathetic tone, “One day, you’ll thank him. In your eyes your life is meaningless, perhaps you should focus on what the people around you are telling you instead of what your mind is telling you.”
“It isn’t that easy.” Stiles rebuttals, “I can’t just change the way I think.”
One of the other members, a small blond girl with bright blue eyes who had to have been a few years younger then Stiles speaks, “I thought the same thing. It’s not changing yourself, It’s acknowledging the things your mind is telling you and overcoming the dark thoughts by remembering that people do love you. It isn’t easy, I wont lie to you. I’ve been in this program for five years now and I still have bad days.”
“What if that’s all it ever is: bad days.”
“Tell someone. Even if your telling yourself you don’t want to burden them or make them worry about you or that you aren’t special enough to them to tell them these things. Sometimes just having someone know how you feel can make a difference.” She smiles at him then, “Just try it.”
Stiles doesn’t say any thing for a long time, then he nods and leans back in his chair and they move on to the next person.
After group, he catches up with the girl. “Hey, I uh didn’t catch your name.”
“Sara,” She smiles and holds a hand out, but there’s a darkness in her eyes. Her hair was stringy and long, like it hadn’t been washed in days. Stiles could tell her cloths were all that washed as well, wrinkled up like she had been wearing them for a while.
He shakes her hand.
“Do you think that will really help?” She gives him a questioning look, “Telling someone. When I feel like that.”
“It’s helped me before. My sister recently moved back and I believe that if I didn’t have her around to talk to, I wouldn’t be here.” Sara tucks her hair behind her ear, “You aren’t alone in this, Stiles. Look around you,” She gestures to the few people who were still around, all of them in a state of tired desperation for a better mentality, “All of us are in this together. Trust the process.”
“Thanks, Sara.” He turns to leave, “Drive safe, ok? I’ll see you around.”
It’s raining outside. Stiles sits up in his bed, alone and his mind keeps wondering to the fact that he knows exactly where the razors are. He doesn’t feel particularly upset tonight, it had been a pretty relaxing day - lazing around the house, watching movies, but the sun went down and the rain started to pour and all he can think is: ‘it’s in the bathroom cabinet, it’s in the bathroom cabinet, it’s in the-“
“Shut up, please shut up,” Stiles leans forward and grips his hair as tight as he can handle, “Please stop.” He whispers to himself. To his own mind.
‘It’s in the bathroom cabinet.’
He stands and makes his way to the door before he even realizes he’s moved. It takes just a few movements before he standing outside Derek’s room, then he hesitates. Can he do this to Derek; tell him that all he can think about is the smooth glide of a fresh razor on his skin? Then he remembers group and Sara from a few days ago and opens the door. Derek is already half way out of the bed and meets Stiles in the middle of the room.
Stiles leans into Dereks chest, grips his shirt tightly and breaths as smoothly as he can.
“Do you want to talk?” Derek asks softly and brings his arms up to lightly hold Stiles to him.
“I-“ He cuts himself off, face heating in shame, “I can’t stop thinking about the razor in the bathroom.”
He feels Derek tense and ‘I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ve upset him. Why did I do this? I should have let him enjoy his night. I should have-‘
“Do you want to sleep in here?” Derek asks, breaking Stiles’ train of thought.
“Please.”
They move to the bed and Stiles clings to Derek, soaking in his warmth. “I’m sorry.” Stiles says quietly in the stillness of the room.
“Why are you sorry?”
“I don’t want you to worry about me.”
“I would worry about you even if all you did was stub your toe on accident. I love you, Stiles and I want it all. Give me the bad times too.” Derek presses a kiss to Stiles’ head, arms holding onto him as if he’d fade away any moment.
“I keep thinking about it and I can’t stop it.”
“That’s ok. You don’t have to stop it. Ride it out with me, ok?”
“Ok.”
“I told Derek that I was thinking about cutting. It... well it did kind of help. The thoughts were still there but I felt safe in his arms.”
“Safe from what?” The counselor asks.
“Safe from myself.”
“I’m glad you shared that with him, thank you for sharing it now. Have you had thoughts about it since?”
“No, actually. I’ve been feeling kind of numb I guess. I’m not happy but I don’t feel sad anymore either.”
Sara says, “I feel the same. I finally got my own apartment and every time I go home alone I feel hollow. I was different staying with my sister but now I feel so isolated.”
She looks more tired then she did last week, eyes red. She has her hands in her lap, thumb nail from her right hand picking aggressively at the skin of her left one.
The counselor glances at Stiles and at his nod, she turns to give Sara her attention.
After group has ended, Stiles follows Sara to the parking lot.
“Going home?” He asks, unlocking his Jeep.
“Yeah,” She says, eyes closing for a second like keeping them open for one more second would kill her.
“You want to come back to mine? I rented some movies. We could watch them? Derek’s out for the day.”
The ‘I don’t want to be alone either’ hung silently in the air between them.
“Sure.” She says.
“Do you think we will ever feel like we are worthy to be alive?” Sara asks him half way through their second movie, the bowl of popcorn between them untouched. “Sometimes I feel like I can actually do it. Like I’m strong enough to push forward and others I feel like I’m drowning.”
“I don’t know.” Stiles answers honestly. “I think that we’ll always have this darkness with us. It’s apart of our story, you know? Apart of who we are. But I guess it doesn’t have to define us, right?”
“I guess.” Sara says, then looks back at the tv, eyes heavy with the burden she puts on herself.
Stiles moves the popcorn and grabs her hand, holding it tightly in his own for the rest of the movies.
He wakes up a few hours later to Derek covering him up with a blanket. “Sara?” Stiles asks as he notices her spot on the couch is empty.
“She’s went home when I got here. She didn’t want to wake you up but she told me to tell you, Thank you.”
Stiles smiles.
“Here, she gave me her number to give you. In case you ever want to talk.” Derek sits next to him and hands him a small scrap of paper.
‘Just in case you feel lonely. Anytime, I mean it. -Sara’
At the next meeting, Sara looks better. Hair freshly washed, clothes smooth and wrinkle free. She looks like she actually slept for once and Stiles can’t help but feel proud for having something to do with that. They’ve been texting since the night she stayed over, talking about everything and anything they could. Is Stiles was being honest, talking to Sara had helped him a lot. He was immensely grateful he had met her.
{{{{{{{{{}}}}}}}}}
A few weeks go by and Stiles finds that he’s having less and less bad days. Him, Sara and a few of the other members start going out to lunch after each session. The group is a mix of ok, and really not ok people. They don’t talk about bad things and thoughts when they are together, taking their counselors advise of trying to focus on the good things. Using group to share the bad and their free time for healing. Stiles can’t help but notice that Sara doesn’t share anymore at lunch. She doesn’t talk about her new job or her apartment. She doesn’t say much of anything. He wants to ask, but he’s only known her for a month and doesn’t feel like he’s close enough to her for that. He does mention something to their counselor though and hopes that she can help Sara.
He invites her to a movie night with the pack and is happy when the group acts likes Sara has been a part of it since the beginning.
“Pass me the popcorn?” Scott asks her, smiling gratefully when it’s passed his way.
“Is this the one where they are all great at magic?” Sara asks the group as Stiles searches the movie title.
“Yeah, I’ve only seen the second one but I love it!” Liam answers then shovels a handful of chips into his mouth.
Sara laughs at this, a few of the other joining in as crumps fall and scatter around him.
Stiles smiles at Sara as she cracks a few jokes about it with the pack. He then turns to Derek, who is smiling at him in the same manner. Stiles leans towards him and kisses him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.” Stiles whispers to him.
Derek looks at him in surprise, then smiles again and pulls Stiles close as he presses play on the movie.
Sara begins hanging out with them more after that, coming over almost everyday. Her and the girls even have girl’s nights sometimes. She’s smiling brighter then she did when Stiles first met her and it fills him with joy. Even if some days still feel like a struggle, even if he still blames himself for hurting all those people, helping this one soul has given him a breath of fresh air. It feels like now, with his family and Sara at his side, he could survive any negative thought.
Stiles is driving home a week later from a great day at the park with the pack and his father when his bad day finally hits. A song he forgot he downloaded comes out of his radio and throws him back into the darkness so fast that he can hardly breath. He pulls to the side of the road and grabs his phone, ripping the aux cord out.
“Stiles?” Sara asks through the speaker.
“I can’t breath.” Stiles gasps, “I’m sorry, I can’t breath.”
“What? What’s wrong? What happened?” Sara asks, a note of absolute horror in her voice.
“Nothing, I’m in my car.” Stiles says, one hand reaching down to grip his thigh, tight enough that the pain brings his panic to a manageable level. “I Heard a song. One I listened to a while back.”
“Thank god.” Sara breaths into the line, “You scared the hell out of me.”
Stiles groans, “I’m sorry. I started panicking, I don’t even remember dialing your number.”
“It’s ok, Stiles, You can call me anytime you know that.”
“Thanks.”
“You want to come over?” She’s asks.
“Yeah, It would be better then going home alone right now.”
At Saras apartment, Stiles notices that she hasn’t decorated like she told their group she was. He doesn’t say anything.
“Why did that song make you panic?” She hands him a glass of water and sits next to him on the couch.
Stiles takes a deep breath, “I hurt some people a while back, one was a close friend. There’s a song we used to listen to all the time. I can still hear her voice singing it like I saw her yesterday.”
“Was?” Sara questions.
“She died a while ago, almost a year now. It was my fault.” Stiles sets the glass down and begins to dig his nails into his thigh again when Sara rests her hand on his and he relaxes his fingers. “My best friend, Scott, they used to date. He says he doesn’t blame me but I don’t know why.”
“Have you guys talked about it?”
“No,” Stiles says, turning his hand over so he could hold hers, “I don’t know how to bring it up.”
“Maybe you should.”
“yeah, maybe.”
They talk for a while longer until Derek texts him, asking where he is and he says his good byes and heads home, forgetting to ask why Sara was wearing long sleeves in seventy degree weather.
“Hey, Scott. Can we talk?” Stiles asks one night when the pack comes over for a movie night.
“Sure.”
Stiles leads Scott into his bedroom and the sit on the end of the bed.
“I don’t understand why you don’t blame me.” Stiles says, forcing himself not to chicken out.
“Because it isn’t your fault.” Scott states like it’s common knowledge, “It wasnt you. It was a killer wearing your face, taking over your body.”
“I remember watching the Oni kill her. If I would have been stronger, i could have stopped it.”
“You have to stop blaming yourself. No one else blames you. Not even Chris.” Scott turns so he’s facing Stiles more head on, “Look, I can’t sit here and tell you that sometimes when I look at you, I don’t thank that it could have been stopped. But its not about you, its about all of us. If I would have gotten to you sooner maybe we could have saved her. But, Stiles,” Stiles looks up at him, “I don’t blame you. We all do what we have to to survive in the world. Sometimes those actions lead down bad paths but we always make it to the other side. I have faith that Allison doesn’t blame you either.”
Stiles let himself cry, overwhelmed by the feeling of light blooming in his chest. “I wish I could tell her how sorry I am.”
“She already knows.” Scott hug him them and the boy hold each other tightly, not letting go until Derek knocks on the door to check on them.
Sara doesn’t answer his texts for the next week and the next group session is filled with nervous energy. Sara is hardly staying awake, hands staking where they grip at her skinny arms. She must had dropped five pounds since the last meeting, skin tight and pale where is lays over her bones.
“I don’t want to share today.” She says when it gets to her turn, hands cover by long sleeves yet again.
“I can’t make you share, Sara,” The counselor says in a soothing voice, “but you know this is a safe environment. We are all here to listen and let you talk.”
Sara stays silent, eyes looking blankly at the floor.
“Alright,” The counselor sighs, “Who else wants to share?”
Stiles sit up, “I would. I have this friend, someone I care about deeply. I can tell they are hurting and I don’t know how to help them.” He knows Sara is glaring at him but he keeps looking forward, “I am worried about them. How do I get them to talk to me?”
“You can’t make anyone talk if they don’t want to. All you can do is make sure your friend knows how much you care about them-“
Sara stands up and rushed out of the room, the counselor quickly following.
She comes back a few minutes later and says, “Sara has decided to go home for the day. Would anyone else like to share?”
A few nights later, Derek wakes up to the sound of Stiles heart beating rapidly. He rushes into the he hallway to find Stiles hopping on one foot, trying to get his shoe on.
“What’s going on?”
“Sara called me. I was sleeping.” He’s rushing down the hall now, towards the front door, “I just listened to the voice mail.”
“Is she okay?” Derek asks, suddenly wide awake. He slips his own shoes on as he follows Stiles out of the house and to the Jeep.
“All she said was: ‘I’m sorry.’ Derek what if she-“
“No, you can’t think like that. Let go to hers, I’m sure she’s fine.”
They make it to Sara’s apartment thirty minutes later and Stiels doesn’t even close his door as he bolts through the front door, pressing the elevators button rapidly saying, “come on, come on...”
He takes off towards the stairs, taking them two at a time, hearing Derek follow him.
“Sara?” Stiles asks loudly as he gets to her door and pounds on it with his fist, “Sara, come on. Open the door! Sara!”
“Move,” Derek says and nudges Stiles out of the way so he can shoulder the door open.
“Sara!” Stiles yells as he enters the apartment, he doesn’t see her.
He moves towards the kitchen as Derek heads to the bedroom. When he doesn’t see her there he turns to go to the bedroom but Derek holds him back as soon as he gets through the door.
“Don’t go in there,” Derek says, trying to hold Stiles back without hurting him, “Stiles! Trust me, don’t go in there.”
Stiles fights Derek, “Is she in there? Is she ok?”
Derek opens his mouth to talk but can’t, face pale.
Stiles feels himself go cold and he shoves Derek as hard as he can and books it towards the bathroom. He stops in the door way. There’s Sara. Beautiful Sara laying in her bathtub, void of water. She’s naked, skin stained red, eyes blankly looking a head at nothing. Her hand dangles over the edge of the tub, a knife covered in blood sits on the floor just below it.
“NO, god, please no.” Stiles falls to his knees, feeling Derek hold him from behind. He screams then, loud enough to make his ears buzz with it. They sit there, Stiles crying hysterically as Derek holds him until a police officer is suddenly helping them up, wrapping a blanket around Stiles shoulders. He’s sitting in the back of an ambulance without the slightest clue as to how he ended up there, Derek next to him.
He watches with wet eyes as the paramedics bring out a stretcher, the black bag on top barely covering the entire surface.
The funeral is on a Sunday. It’s bright out side, the sun shining in the sky as Sara’s family and friends gather to remember her life, saying goodbye one last time. Long after, Stiles sits behind her head stone.
“I miss you already.” He says to the bright blue sky, fingers running through the soft, green grass beneath him.
“Are you Stiles?”
Stiles looks up to see what could be Sara’s twin, albeit a bit taller, standing in front of him.
“Yeah,” He says.
“I’m Sara’s sister,” she blinks and a tear falls down her cheek. She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a crumpled sheet of paper, “She left this for you. Well, its addressed to both of us. I thought we could read it together? I couldn’t bring myself to read it alone.”
Stiles scoots over, allowing her to sit next to him. She hands him the letter, hands shaking.
Stiles clears his throat, “Dear Sabrina and Stiles, I want you to know that I love you both with my entire heart. My life, as brief as it was, was only worth living knowing I had you two. I’m sorry I let the darkness win but I couldn’t live like this anymore. I want you both to know that I tried to fight, I really did. Not for myself but for both of you. Please don’t be sad. I love you and I’m sorry, Sara.”
Stiles hands the paper back to Sabrina, hands trembling. “I don’t understand. She was doing better, wasn’t she?”
Sabrina sighs and takes his hand, “ She was always good at hiding what she was feeling.”
“I wish she would have talk to someone.” Stiles squeezes her hand as a sob rips it’s way out of his throat.
“Me too.” She whispers, looking up to the sky.
They sit there for a long time, neither saying a word as the sun warms their skin and birds chirp beautifully around them.