Set after 3x01.

Laughter echoed throughout Stiles's home, it was strange how his world could be so dark, but the tiny happy moments meant so much. The truth was Stiles tried to hang onto to the small happy moments as they hardly ever occurred, but they never outweighed the bad times in his life. Scott made Stiles happy, so did Lydia and his Dad, but at the moment in time it was Allison Argent who was making him cackle. Her head was laid on his shoulder as he had forgotten how to breathe whilst he was mid-laugh.

Allison and Stiles had always been like brother and sister. There had not been one glimmer of romance between the two; Stiles had laid eyes on her and automatically knew she belonged with Scott, but he kept that under wraps. It hadn't taken long for Allison to become fond of Stiles; he was like her little brother that she had to shield from the world the two perfectly normal humans had come to call home. When Allison broke up with Scott, she had still kept in contact with Stiles, but it had been mostly phone calls and texts. Whatever the world threw at them, whoever stayed friends with whom; Allison and Stiles would always have each other's backs.

"What?" Allison questioned, "What's so funny?!"

"Charlie's a girl, not a boy!" Stiles exclaimed.

Allison stopped laughing, "I have called her a boy since I joined Beacon Hills, no wonder she hates me." Allison cupped her hand over her mouth, "She must think I'm a bitch!" The two laughed, "I'm not normally one who prejudge, but I completely prejudged her." She sighed, "Why did this even come up? I was meant to be tutoring you for our chemistry exam."

"Oh, you know us Allison; we always go off topic." Stiles smiled, Allison studied him for a while; he had bags under his eyes and he looked shattered, the smile seemed real, but faked at the same time. He generally looked happy, but he also looked utterly broken. Stiles noticed that her smile faded, his faded quickly after, "Do I have something on my face?" He asked.

Allison snapped back into reality, "Sorry, you just look tired." She told him.

"Well when your best friend is a werewolf who you chase around, then it is sometimes hard to get sleep when bedtime is whenever you stop running." Stiles mocked, he chewed the end of his pen; he then brushed his hand through his thick hair.

"The boy who ran with wolves," Allison smiled sadly, "has a ring to it."

"The girl who copied Arrow from DC comics, doesn't have a ring to it." Stiles joked.

"Shut it." Allison giggled, it faded away and she breathed out deeply.

Stiles wanted to release the tension, he looked around his room for an interruption, "I might shave my hair off again, I hate it like this." He said looking in the window, he moved his hair up and let it go, "I have to style it and everything, I don't have time for it."

"Welcome to my world," Allison chuckled, "I like it. It's much better than seeing your scalp 24/7."

"What about Scott? Short or long?" Stiles asked.

"Short." Allison said a little too quickly, "I don't even remember it long." That was a lie; she had selfies on her wall. "I better be off, my Dad was angry the last time I bunked over."

"The sofa bed is always open to you Allison Argent." Stiles smiled, for some reason Allison thought he was lying; he said it with passion, but the boy seemed to like being alone. "See you tomorrow." Allison ruffled his hair.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, she beamed at him, "Do you understand how long it takes to look this good?" He joked.

"Get some sleep." She ordered, she began to walk out the room.

"Okay Mum." Stiles laughed, he waited until he heard the front door close and then the smile faded from his face.

It wasn't all an act. Part of him loved spending time with Allison, but it didn't patch his broken heart and it didn't stop him from his addition.

His addiction to pain. He reached under his bed and brought out a box of razer blades; he pulled up his left sleeve and looked for a space. There was a reason why he always wore long sleeved t-shirts, he had a secret to hide; if it was hot, he did wear short-sleeved but he had a limited supply of foundation to cover up his art gallery of scars. There was something about the blood running down his arm that he craved; he cut into his skin and didn't even flinch, tears dropped down his cheeks. Sometimes he knew he was going too far, Scott or Derek or any wolf could smell it, but he had got good at lying.

After five cuts, Stiles heard the front door open again. He dropped the blooded blade into the box and kicked it under his bed, he pulled his sleeve up and leant back into his pillow, "Stiles, I forgot my pencil case!" Allison's voice shouted up, "I used to spare key under the flower pot, I knocked but you didn't answer!" She walked into his room.

"I must be going deaf." He joked, the truth was when he cut, the outside world seemed to drift away, he had heard her coming in because he was nearly finished – he normally did six lines of agony before going to sleep.

"Yeah." Allison looked around for her pencil case and then noticed it was on the floor, she bent down to reach it, but she found something else – she found the box. The box that contained half a dozen blades, one with new blood on and others with dry darker blood on, she froze and looked up at Stiles. He had gone an odd grey colour, he began to breathe unevenly. She pushed it back down under and knelt by his side, she took hold of his hands, "Let's get you patched up, okay?" She asked calmly, he nodded, but no verbal contact was used.

She got up and walked to his bathroom, her hands shook as she reached into the medical cupboard; she had never had to deal with this before. She slowly walked back to the room; she was shocked to see he had gone for the box and cut himself again, "Sorry." He mumbled, "I have to do six, I have to; I always have, I can't change now." He panicked, "I can't change." He breathed in deeply and dropped the box on the ground, the new cut was deeper than the rest and Allison knew she had to do something soon.

She bolted over and cast the box to the side, she then proceeded to take his top and jacket off; she then looked at the whole extent to his pain. The cuts were mostly healed and he seemed to be very good at patching himself up, if Scott were to notice, Stiles could easily say he got them falling over or running with the pack – he had the perfect excuse. Allison cleaned the fresh wounds, she then placed a bandage around them as they seemed to be the deepest ones Stiles had done in a while. "We'll tell everyone that you smashed a glass, I witnessed it and I know it was an accident." Stiles stared at her as she reached for his pyjama top; she placed it over his head, she had to do the work because he had completely zoned out.

"Why are you helping me?" Stiles asked weakly.

"Because you're my friend and I don't want to lose you." Allison sighed as she finished the bandage off; she looked up the see tears running down his pale cheeks. She dropped the first aid kit and eyeballed him for a while, she then cupped his cheek with her hand; she wiped the tears away, "It's going to be okay Stiles." She let go and rose from the spot, he weakly took hold of her wrist, that's when she broke and tears ran freely down her face; he held his arms out and Allison wrapped herself around him. She nestled her face into his shoulder as he held onto her tightly, she rubbed his back lovingly, "I won't tell, I promise. I'll be here for you, always." She whispered.

"I know, I guess I'm just scared." Stiles wailed, "Thank you Allison."

"I'd do anything for you Stiles, all you have to do is ask." Allison tightened her grip on him.

"Can I come over to yours tonight?" He questioned.

"Of course, let's go." They separated, Allison bundled some of Stiles's stuff together as he curled together on his bed; she hid the box under his bed and put the first aid kit back. She then linked her fingers with him and guided him out of his house.