When the door slammed shut it felt final. Like that door didn’t just close off entry to the animal clinic, but instead it closed off any way he had back to his pack. To Scott. Scott, who looked so horrified and disappointed in him. And now he feels as if he can’t move a muscle. Every part of him is frozen to that one spot as if not moving will mean that the conversation hasn’t ended and Scott will come back and they can talk and hug it out like they usually do.
Except. Except it’s been almost ten minutes and Scott hasn’t come back outside. It’s not until he’s back in his jeep that he realizes the wetness on his face isn’t from the rain. He doesn’t even remember when he started crying, if it was at the beginning or if it was when Scott turned and walked away from him. This must be what a breakup feels like. Heart wrenching and absolutely devastating, like your world is crumbling around you.
“This is yours.”
“He was going to kill my dad.”
“So you had to kill him?”
He’s never heard Scott sound like that before, never heard him sound so desperate to not believe something is true. His face full of horror.
“You don’t even believe me, do you?”
“I want to.”
But did he? If he really wanted to, he already would be.
“Okay. Then believe me. Scott, say you believe me. Say it”
But Scott didn’t say it. He didn’t believe him. He just left Stiles standing alone in the rain without letting him tell the full story first, backing away from him like he was scared Stiles would hit him with that stupid wrench. Like Stiles could ever hurt an Alpha werewolf with one metal wrench. Not just any Alpha, his Alpha werewolf, who he’d stood with from the start. Stood with through the Bite, through Allison, through every stupid plan with good intentions Scott ever decided he should have. And the one time Stiles needs a little leap of faith, one little ounce of trust, Scott slams the door shut.
“You think I had a choice?”
“There's always a choice.”
“Yeah, well, I can't do what you can, Scott. I know you wouldn't have done it. You probably would've just figured something out, right?”
“Yeah, because you're Scott McCall! You're the true Alpha! Guess what? All of us can't be true Alphas. Some of us have to make mistakes. Some of us have to get our hands a little bloody sometimes. SOME OF US ARE HUMAN!”
No matter how fast he goes the voices won’t stop. And when did he start driving anyway? He can’t remember pulling out his keys or starting the car, can’t remember backing out of the animal clinic parking lot and driving through the torrential downpour. All he can remember is the Argument.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I was going to.”
“No, but why didn't you tell me when it happened?”
It wasn’t even supposed to be an argument. He was going to tell Scott, he was always going to tell Scott. It’s what they do. They never keep secrets anymore, not after all the death and destruction they’ve seen secrets create. But somehow, Scott found out too soon, caught him off guard. And he couldn’t help yelling, trying to get Scott to understand that he has limited options; he’s all pale skin and fragile bones, he can’t just use fangs and claws like the others. And then Scott was accusing him of murder, saying it wasn’t self-defence when is so clearly was. And-
No. No no no no no. He’s slowing down, the jeep is slowing down but his foot is clearly on the gas. This can’t be happening right now. The smoke from the engine is bad this time; there’s not enough duct tape in the world to fix this.
When he throws the wrench at the jeep and cracks the windshield, it seems fitting somehow. Now everything he cares about is broken.