Authors notes: One of my biggest pet peeves In teen wolf was when they didn't really show lots of Sciles after Theo killed Scott and Hurt sheriff Stininski. So this is my take on how the two Teen heros made up sooooooo….Enjoy!

Stiles was exhausted. He was sitting in the hospital waiting room waiting for news… any news on the one family he had left. He had lost his mum and he was pretty sure he had lost Scott. No he was mad at Scott he didn't care what had happened to him. He wasn't even answering his phone that jerk, his dad was dying and he would even answer his phone screw him.

Stiles had his head in his eyes. Trying to hold back the tears that threatened to come out. He had told them Theo was bad news and guess what he was right like always. But like always no one listened to him. No one ever listened to him. He had so much pressure on him a lot of grown men didn't have to go through what he was going through. But when your best friend is bitten by a werewolf you don't really have a choice in what you are dragged into.

Stile foot started tapping the floor nervously any news would be great right now. Mellissa wasn't here. Who noes where she was….

The door to Sheriff Stilinski's room opened and a nurse walked out. She started walking towards him.

"Your Stiles right?" she said walking next to him

"yeah' Stiles said nevouly he just wanted news on his father "is my dad alright"

"yes your father will be alright. He will need rest and nurse McCall will be here soon for the rest of his checkups. You can go in their if you like"

"yeah I will. Thanks for everything" Stiles said very relived that his dad was going to be okay

When Stiles walked into Sheriff's room he noticed how pale he was. He was sleeping. So Stiles went and sat on the chair next to the bed just looking at his father. This was all Scott's fault. And where was he anyway. A lone tear ran down Stiles face and he wiped it away quickly. Only now that he knew his dad was going to be alright did he realize how exhausted he really was. He closed his eyes and darkness welcomed him.

When he woke up Mellissa was in his room and was busy fixing Sheriff's bandages and checking his vitals. She turned and got a blanket and started walking towards Stiles.

"oh Stiles your awake" she said smiling "how are you feeling"

Stiles noticed how tired Mellissa looked and the lines on her face. He also noticed the faint trace on blood under a finger nails. He was cut out of his thoughts by Mellissa's voice again

"Stiles?" her voice full of worry and her kind eyes full of concern

"what? Oh yeah I'm fine" Stiles lied

"how are you really" Mellissa said seeing right through Stiles lie

"Alone" Stiles said simply "Theo hurt my dad and no one believed me when I said Theo was bad news. And Scott is being a jerk and ignoring he isn't answering my calls."

Stiles noticed Mellissa's eyes dart to her hands and back to Stiles "hhh-ee he isn't answering his phone because… uh because um… his phone was crushed". She said sadly "Liam lost control on the supermoon and attacked him"

To be honest Stiles really didn't care. Scott will heal. I'm going to get something to eat he said simply and walked out. His dad would be fine in Mellissa's care. He went to the vending machine and chose a snack and started walking back to his dads room.

That when he saw Scott.

Scott was swaying slightly. But Stiles didn't care he ran forward and pushed Scott into the wall Scott didn't fight but can get let out a grunt as his back hit the wall. Taking advantage on Scott not fighting back he grabbed the front of Scott shirt and pushed his down. Another grunt from Scott then he but his knee on Scott's abdomen and this time he was taken back as Scott let out a loud yelp. Stiles was pulled back off Scott by strong hands and Scott had the same done to him. Stiles noticed the small blood stain growing on his chest where he had kneed Scott and Noticed how pale Scott was.

But he didn't care

"Where were you HEY" Stiles yelled

Scott said nothing

"boys that's enough" Mellissa's voice rang out "what the hell is wrong with you"

Finally Scott spoke "your dad wasn't the only person that got hurt last night-"

"You'll heal Stiles cut Scott off. He noticed how pissed Mellissa suddenly looked and how hurt Scott looked. He wondered if something more serous happened last night. But he quickly shook the idea out of his head.

"I wasn't talking about me" Scott said covering the now large blood stain on his chest with his jumper "I was talking about Lydia"

Stiles heart dropped "where is she"

Scott started walking away "follow me"

Stiles started following Scott and noticed how slow he was walking. He didn't say anything though. When they got to elevator Scott pressed the button to the 4th floor. Stiles looked Scott over seeing him lean against the wall with his eyes closed. A pained expression on his face. He was stiles holding his jacket on the blood stain but Stiles could see the edge on the stain stating to creep its way into view. He was starting to worry a bit and was wondering what really happened last night. When the door of the elevator open and did a small ding. Stiles started moving forward but realized Scott wasn't coming

"Scott?" he said making sure that was a little concern in his voice.

Scott didn't respond he just kept breathing heavily Stiles moved forward and moved his hand to put it on Scott shoulder.

"Scott?" he said when he handed touched him Scot visibly flinched and pulled away. When he saw who it was he immediately whispered Sorry and started walking towards the hallway. Stiles followed after him. He saw the slight limp in Scott's step heard the small intake in breath every so often. After about a 4 minute walk they arrived at Lydia's hospital room. She was practically cationic. They weren't allowed in her room but Stiles could see scratch mark and small bite marks on he arms and legs. He knew Theo had done it. If Theo had managed to hurt his dad and Lydia what other damage had he done he could of killed someone last night.

They stood in the corridor as Stiles watched Lydia's chest rise and fall and listen to the steady beep of the heart monitors. Mellissa ended up coming up to them Scott was sitting on the ground back rested up against the wall. Mellissa went up to Scott and started whispering Stiles caught a couple words like healing and better get you home. She eventually turned to stiles and asked if he could take Scott home and offered if he wants to stay the night. Stiles didn't have much choice so he agreed. He watched Mellissa tell Scott what was going to happen and then tell his she was going to help him up. He flinched at little at her touch but didn't pull away. She helped his up off the floor and Stiles and Scott made there way to Mellissa's car.

When they got to Mellissa's car Stiles unlocked it and watched Scott slowly get in he heard the sharp intake of breath as Scott got in. Stiles started the car and Started driving to Scott's house. They didn't talk much on the way home. And stiles eventually heard the deep breaths on Scott as he slept. As Scott slept he thought about the deep crimson blood stain on Scott chest. He wondered what could of possibly caused such a big wound and if he was healing or not. He took a deep breath and pulled over he then carefully and quietly started moving towards Scott. He slowly pulled up Scott's top and gasped as he saw a blood soaked gauze pad on his upper chest. Taking a couple breaths Stiles carefully put Scott's top down. He started driving as fast as he could back to Scott's house. Something more happened last night and Scott wasn't telling him.

When they arrived at Scott's house Stiles carefully woke Scott up and Scott refused his help to get inside. But gasped painfully as he got out of the car. When they got inside Scott collapsed on the couch and Stiles deiced it was time to get answers.

Stiles waits until Scott looked a little more relaxed before asking. "What happened?"

"Theo," Scott says, once he's not focused on making sure no blood's creeping up his throat. "And, uh – Liam."

Stiles' mouth opens and closes, hands clenching and unclenching, clearly at a loss. "The Supermoon, it pushed Liam over the edge when I said I wouldn't give Hayden the bite," Scott adds, saving Stiles the trouble of asking. "Things got a little…heated."

"Theo?"

"Showed up after Mason, of all people, chased Liam off. He came to tell - Hayden's dead, Stiles."

There's hot grief mixing with guilt in his chest, head angled away and out the window. Another body to add to his list of failures. An amazing girl, filled to the brim with possibilities, gone because he wasn't enough.

"Damn," Stiles says, voice tinged with regret. There's a quiet moment before he asks. "What did Theo want?"

"Liam to kill me." Scott says it on a low exhale. Talking hurts, everything hurts, but Stiles needs to know. "He's the only one that can take my power. Theo wanted to kill Liam to become an alpha, then make you all his pack, I guess."

"You focus on not bleeding all over your mom' couch, please," Stiles says, turning and looking at him. Scott sort of freezes under his gaze, and they hold it for longer than strictly necessary.

I almost lost you, it says.

Stiles finally looks away. but Scott continues to re-memorize the angles of his best friend's face, like he's done countless times over the years. The tightness of his lips, the hollow points of his cheeks, the clench of his jaw, the moles dark on pale skin. He eventually just settles for staring at his neck, watching his pulse jump. Scott's eyes drift shut as he finished his catalogue

Stiles pours a glass of water and Scott leans on the counter, eyes at half mast until the water is shoved in his face.

"Drink," Stiles says, looking cross. Scott grabs it on reflex and downs half of it before he has to stop, a tickle in his throat threatening a cough. He drinks the rest once he's back in control, and grimaces at the blood left on the glass. Stiles notices it, and his throat works as the glass is set in the sink.

"Let me see it," he says.

Scott wants to tell him no. It's a ridiculous urge, but his mouth's already working to form the word. The look on Stiles' face gives him enough pause to wonder if the fight's really worth it. They've been doing enough of that lately, at the very least.

Tugging his jacket off is the worst, but Stiles is there in a heartbeat, pulling the sopping material off gently, the shredded shirt following it. They're deposited in the sink with a wet plop.

Scott moves to assure Stiles that it looks worse than it is, but is interrupted by an angry growl. "If you try to tell me 'it's not as bad as it looks' I'm going to punch you in the jaw."

Despite everything, Scott has to laugh. It's sad-sounding and short, but it's a chuckle, and it's punctuated by a snort from Stiles.

"Predictable."

The word's said with a quiver, and Scott feels the little burst of amusement die along with it. Stiles' hand is shaking where it's clenched on the countertop, splotches of Scott's blood on his fingertips, and Scott doesn't know what to do. It's a common theme.

"Scott, I chose my dad. Theo gave me a choice, he told me you or my dad, and I chose him."

"Good," Scott says immediately, following Stiles' leaping track of mind easily. "You made the right choice."

"Because you know you'd heal, or because you didn't care either way?"

Stiles sounds angry, which, yeah, he has that right. Scott just feels tired. His silence must be answer enough, because Stiles throws his hands up and grabs at his hair, a low noise in his throat that Scott can only hear because of what he is.

Because he's not human.

Scott cranes his head back and stares at the ceiling, and remembers the feel of Theo's claws in him. Twisting, tugging, shaking with anger and want, and Scott could only think of one thing: that at least Theo won't be an alpha, after all.

"Mason was there," he says without thinking, and he doesn't want to talk about it, not really – doesn't want to talk about how Stiles might have a better life if Scott was no longer in it (no one at all). "Mason was there. He stuck around after he told Liam about - about Hayden."

"Is that some sort of sick dig, Scott?" And now Stiles sounds angry. It's filling the room like toxic waste, curling between them like a snake.

"What?"

"That Mason was there but I wasn't? That I wasn't there to-"

"If there was anyone I wanted there least it was you, Stiles!"

"Because you really don't trust me that much, huh?!"

"Because I didn't want you to see me die!"

Scott's at the edge of panic again, amazed that the situations keep turning over again and again – he can't follow where Stiles' thoughts go with things like this, and that alone has his stomach sinking down to his toes. "God, Stiles – I trust you. I trust you with my life. But you couldn't've – and neither could Mason. No one could."

But Stiles still hasn't spoken, and now Scott's terrified he's pushed him too far again, but there's more than anger on his face - it's shock.

"What?" It's a groan, a whisper, a guttural thing.

"What, 'what'?" Scott asks, because he's so tired, it's too much, he can't keep up with anything anymore.

"You died?"

"I mean," he says, and sort of curls in on himself. "Sort of. My mom brought me out of it, so."

"it was only for like a second though. right?"

Scott shakes his head slowly "fifteen minutes"

This is a disaster.

"Okay, I wanted you there," he says, because Stiles deserves that bit of clarity. "I wanted you to be the one I saw last, before." He has to stop to take a breath, to school himself. Stiles is watching him with wet eyes, looking like he's on the brink of running. Scott wouldn't blame him. "But at the same time I didn't want you there, because you deserve better than that." Deserve better than me.

"You died, Scott."

It's said with such misery, and Scott can't stop the sob that curls in his chest and leaks out of his mouth.

"Yeah."

Stiles leaps forward, mindless of the blood between them, and pulls Scott into a hug reminiscent of their hug on the MRI scanning table. They're both shaking and at least one of them is crying, judging by the hint of salt in the air, because he was scared, okay, he didn't want to want to die, and he doesn't – doesn't want to die. Wants to be here, with Stiles, where they trust each other with everything again.

"I'm so sorry, Scotty," Stiles says into his neck, and he feels twelve again, after he'd taken that nasty spill off the roof of the garage and Stiles had to pat him awake and rub his hair and chest to make sure he was okay, he was breathing alright, he was whole.

"I was scared," Scott says into Stiles' shoulder. Scared I'd never see you again. Scared because I was leaving my mom alone. Not scared for the pain, the inevitability of death, but for the ones I love.

"Fifteen minutes," Stiles says to himself, like he's choking on the words, like they're a noose. Scott just nods, feeling guilty for telling him at all.

The air is heavy with their silence, but it smells different now. The constant stink of anxiety still blankets them both, but in it is relief and love, and Scott had missed those smells. They settle his nerves almost as well as the hug has, and he sighs and sags in Stiles' grip, feeling, for the first time in weeks, truly held.

"I'm sorry," Stiles says after a few more seconds.

"Don't be."

"I still am."

"Your dad's alive. I'm alive. It worked out."

The laugh Stiles gives is high and short, bordering on hysterical. He cranes his head back and looks, really looks at Scott. Scott graces him with the same treatment, letting the honesty of the pain of his injuries, the pain of the rift between them, but the hope that it's mending. The relief that Stiles is okay.

Stiles must get at least some of those things, because his shoulders relax under Scott's grip, and he leans in and presses their foreheads together. It's slick with sweat and tacky with blood, but it's the closeness, the feel of Stiles' breath, his heartbeat cloaking him like a warm towel that has Scott closing his eyes and just being.

It's a long time before Stiles speaks. "You're filthy and hurting. Think you're up for a shower?"

"Yeah," Scott says, and it's only then that they pull apart. His chest aches with the pull of dried blood, but the rest of him longs for the contact again.

Stiles looks at him for a long time, looking an amalgam of unreadable things, before grabbing Scott's hand. It's strangely intimate, but not strange at all. Scott grips it back.