Everything I stood for, all that I desired, was gone. Despite my best efforts, I could never grasp onto the fleeting forms of my friends. My pack mates. Maybe it was for the best? I did want out constantly. I never wanted to be like this, metally ruined before I should have been. All what held me together was gone, all of it.
With my curtains closed and lights off, I mused about being dead. It would be better if I was. Scott didn't trust me, not like he did before Theo. Scott. He was all I had, now I had nothing. Nothing that was true. Laying in my bed, unmoving, I truely felt like I could be dead. Slowly I curled my aching fingers into a fist, digging to find some semblance of anger, rage even. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't do it. I swear that I care, I swear I do it is just hard. Hard to show that I give a fuck when I am drowning in unshed tears.
Feeling my lungs cave in, I just wished they would stop working, stop me from going on. How I desperately wanted some illness to take me away, whisk me to a room where everyone I know pretends to care. Although I had seen so much fucked up shit, seen the impossible, fought against it even, I couldn't fight against the pit growing in my mind. I guess I had never been fine, always walking the fine line but the Nogitsune pushed me over but I stubbornly refused to show it. Then Theo showed up. He chinked my armour and tore my crutches from me.
It was so obvious. I needed Scott, Lydia, Kira, Malia and Liam. The weak human needed the supernatural to flounder above the surface desperately. But this weak human was tired, tired of trying so hard. Trying to be useful. Sleep always evaded me, so I researched. Hunger never found me, so I fed the werewolves. I was trying to be useful, but I couldn't have been too helpful considering Scott threw me out so easily. Even when it was proven that Theo was lying, manipulating truths to be sinister, Scott still had yet to acknowledge my presence.
The shuffling downstairs eventually forced me from my bed. The sheriff, my dad, was back home and tension was high. Theo had wormed his way into my fathers head, spreading seeds of doubt, seeds I didn't have the energy to pull out. Right now I didn't want the world to see me, didn't want anyone to see me as I really am. Weak and falling.
Gripping my sheets, I eventually found it in myself to stand. Forcing the wobble from my stance, I strode with false confidence to the mirror. Disgusted by what I saw, I repressed every notion to smash the mirror and instead experimented. What look should I have, how should my mouth curl, how should the corners of my eyes crinkle? Working through the self-loathing, I found the perfect balance of tired and snarky. My supposed normal look. Fixing my clothing, I left my bedroom. Forcing noise into each step, I winced from each reverberated bang I made.
"Stiles, you're awake." Dad grumbled, still moving around the house.
Working my way slowly to the kitchen, fear clawed at my skin. Fear and sadness. He still didn't trust me. When will he trust me again?
"Yup, can't let you fend for yourself in the kitchen." I mused weakly, missing the mark of humour entirely.
"I can fend for myself." He snapped and what little life I had in my muscles drained.
"Yeah, and that is why you are the sheriff." I smiled painfully, reeling from an unknown wave. "Um, I am going..."
He wasn't listening. The way he held himself told me so, even by the tight lipped look he worn screamed it. Shuffling past him, I pulled on my worn out sneakers, not caring. Leaving the house silently, I went straight to my Jeep. The feeling of plummeting struck me, piercing through my body. Jumping into my car, I jammed my keys into the ignition. I had lost it in myself to care whether or not I was being rough with Roscoe. Tearing out of the driveway and onto the road, I felt lonely.
Scott wasn't talking to me, Lydia was acting like she had before the whole supernatural bombsehell with me and well, Kira was smitten with Scott. Malia, I thought she would stay with me at least. Unfortunately I was mistaken. Instead she stuck to her alpha, leaving me entirely. Liam was a puppy, too scared to leave Scott's side. I was so alone. Even my father didn't want me in his presence. Wouldn't it be best if I just...died?
Gripping the steering wheel, my resolve was set. I was going to die. I was the infection, the disease that needs to be purged in order for the town to be healthy. Lydia probably wouldn't scream for my death, Scott probably wouldn’t even notice.
Pulling off the road at the woods, I took a deep breath before leaving my Jeep. Leaving the keys in the ignition, I stood before the hulking forest. So much had happened in this place, so much shit that slowly broke me down. Fuck, why did it all have to happen to me? If I hadn't dragged Scott with me that night to find a dead body, none of this would have happened. Scott and I would be the same blissfully unaware losers trying to be people we are not. Oh how I want the back so desperately. Back to when Scott needed me alive.
Right now I was a burden, the human who kills in a pack of wolves that don't. I was ruining everything Scott had built. Taking my first step into the thick of the woods, I felt my sense of purpose ignite.
Continuing to walk without purpose, I was finally stuck on the how. How should I do it? I hadn't brought rope, so hanging was not optional. Starving didn't sound like fun either. The sound of rushing water startled me, and a plan formed.
Drowning. I know how it should feel. After Matt, I had researched all I could about drowning. It seemed better than slowly starving myself. Stumbling towards the water, I followed the gushing stream. Eventually it lead to a waterfall, one I was not aware Beacon hills had. Standing close to the edge, fear grabbed me. It was a long fall, the mist of the water distorting my vision. The bottom would be painful if impact didn't kill me. Would it even work, or would it just leave me paralyzed, doomed to slowly die washed up on the creek bank?
This was necessary though. If I don't die now, I will just continue to bring everyone down. I was a weak human, pitiful even. Eventually my demons pushed me over.
The sensation of plummeting was not foreign, I had felt it constantly. It lasted only a few moments before agony overtook me. Hitting the waters surface didn't kill me, but it broke something. Lots of things. Screaming, all I got was a lung full of water. Trying desperately to get air, stuggling to move my tormented limbs, I fought to survive. Life slowly began to sap from me as my useless body couldn’t move properly.
This cannot be happening. Dying seemed so easy but right now it was an effort. Why? Why was it slowly giving way to exhaustion first? More pain overcame me, reaching a new threshold I was not aware of. Scrunching my eyes closed, I couldn't struggle anymore though my body wanted to. Every aspect of me wanted to fight the inevitable. It occured to me finally. Relaxing my body, my eyes snapped open.
I don't want to die.
The feel of the water pulsating was the last sensation I felt. The life flowed from my body, drifting in the current of the river. I was finally dead.
I don't want to die.
Those words struck Derek from nowhere, startling him to look away from the grotesque scene. Braeden snapped at Derek, but he didn't hear a word. His instincts told him to run. Run to Beacon Hills, or run farther away. Gripping his jacket tightly, he decided he would follow his instincts. Derek was going back to Beacon Hills. If he could sense something foreboding this far away, it had to be bad. He had to warn Scott, help him even.
Ignoring Braeden's protests, Derek jumped back in his car. Wasting no time arguing with her, he left, speeding back towards his home. Back to Beacon Hills ready to face whatever monster had decided not to die. He knew, he could sense danger. Derek just knew he had to warn Scott before it struck.