A/N: I posted this drabble to tumblr (littlecajunlady) on April 8, 2015 and recently to ao3, and the prompt was, "You're the only one I trust to do this."

I came up with the idea for this one immediately after Riddled aired (when Scott offered to "do something"), but back then I was still trying to resist the urge to start writing fan fiction again. I hung onto the idea for over year before finally writing it, so here you go - have some Scott and Stiles angst.

"One more day."

"Stiles –"

"Just one more day, Scott, okay?"

This conversation happened nearly every day, and each time Scott would sigh and nod his head. He'd rarely ever been able to say no to his best friend. It was even worse now that he was dying.

Turns out the Nogitsune's trick wasn't making Stiles believe he had frontotemporal dementia. Instead he'd made Stiles's scans look exactly like Claudia's to make them all think he was trying to pull one over on them. The real trick had been hope all along.

After the Nogitsune was gone, Stiles had shown some improvement. He certainly wasn't as weak and sickly looking. But as the weeks went by, he was still having some of the same symptoms. The Sheriff insisted on another MRI. They were all shocked to learn that while the MRI no longer matched Claudia's, his brain still showed signs of atrophy. The Sheriff was devastated. So was Scott. He'd just lost Allison. He couldn't lose his best friend too.

They tried to explain it away, tried to prove the Nogitsune was back somehow and playing another trick. But it wasn't. Stiles was sick, and there was only one thing that might save him.

Days after the diagnosis, when they were still all reeling from the news, Scott had said, "I'll do it. I'll give you the bite."

Stiles said nothing at first. He just sat there, infuriatingly calm, before finally saying, "I don't know if I want you to."

"What do you mean? If you don't do it you'll die."

"I know."

Scott wanted to shake him. Ever since they'd heard the news, Stiles appeared almost as if he was in a daze. He had to be in shock, because the Stiles that Scott knew would never be so passive, especially in the face of death. "You know and you still won't do it?"

Stiles shrugged. "It seems inevitable."

"If you take the bite then you'll be cured!"

"But we don't know that for sure, do we?"

A week went by and then another, and Stiles still wouldn't budge. Scott did his best persuade him, to get the others to appeal to him. Scott even tried to convince the Sheriff, but as much as he wanted to save his son's life, he didn't feel he could order Stiles to do something he didn't want to do.

Once, when pushed by Lydia to answer why he didn't want the bite, Stiles had said, "I want to be human. And what if it doesn't work? If I get the bite I could die tomorrow. But if I don't, I could live for months. I'm not ready to go yet."

All the while, Stiles was steadily and rapidly deteriorating. The doctors said they'd never seen it happen so quickly, especially in someone so young. Deaton guessed it could be a side-effect of the possession, possibly a parting gift from the Nogitsune. It was horrible for all of them to see him that way, to become less and less like the Stiles they knew.

Stiles became moody and less likely to joke. Sometimes he would randomly start binge eating and couldn't stop until he made himself sick. There were also moments they noticed that he was struggling to find a specific word, only to give up and let it die on the tip of his tongue. In fact, one day he and Scott were hanging out when Stiles's started to speak, but Scott couldn't understand a word he was saying. Scott called for the Sheriff, who came running.

"He was fine and then –"

The Sheriff listened for a moment. He couldn't quite make out the words, but he knew enough to recognize it. "That's Polish."

"What? Really?"

"Yes, Claudia's father was from Poland. She was fluent and she would speak it to Stiles when he was kid. I didn't know he remembered it. Claudia would do this too, when she was sick …"

Stiles got a lot of his mother's symptoms as the disease continued to progress, like asking the same question three times within 20 minutes because he couldn't remember the answer. He was forgetful in other ways too. Just a few weeks after this had all started; Scott noticed Stiles wasn't in their first class. He asked to go to the bathroom and went out to search the school parking lot instead, finding Stiles sitting in his Jeep.

Scott opened his door. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah," Stiles said, rubbing his head. The headaches were yet another recent symptom. "It's just, when I got here, I couldn't remember what my first class is. I can't remember who the teacher is or where to go. It's all just gone."

Scott tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it was getting harder and harder to pull off. "We have Econ with Coach, remember?"

There were always a few seconds of blank staring before Stiles would suddenly remember and his eyes would light up in recognition. But this time it didn't happen. Instead Stiles sighed and said, "Scott?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't do this anymore." Stiles took a deep breath. "I'm ready."

They'd all been so relieved when he'd finally agreed, but the truth was that he wasn't ready. That was when the whole "one more day" business had started. Even three weeks after he agreed to the bite, Scott was still getting -

"Not today, Scott."

"Scott, let's do it tomorrow."

And as much as Scott hated it, he couldn't push the issue. Not even when Stiles looked up from a textbook one day and announced, "I can't read anymore," or when he began to stumble when he walked. However, the absolute last straw for Scott was when he touched Stiles and could tell he was in near constant pain. He couldn't take his suffering anymore.

"Stiles, we're doing it today."

Stiles looked awful, and he was so exhausted he could barely even get the words out. "It doesn't have to be today."

"Yes, it does," Scott said, getting right in his face. Suddenly he was angry, and he finally did grab Stiles by the shoulders and gave him a little shake. "You're dying! Don't you get that?! You're dying!"

It took a moment, but Stiles's eyes suddenly became focused and clear. He could be oddly unemotional sometimes, but Scott was definitely seeing some emotion now, and it was fear.

"Oh god, I waited too long! It's too late –"

"No it's not," Scott assured him. "It's fine. I can still fix this."

Scott called everyone. The Sheriff and Melissa came, as well as Lydia, Derek, and Deaton. They all looked so sad and defeated, like they already knew the outcome, but Scott didn't care. He still had to try.

But just before he was about to bite him, Stiles had another episode. He started screaming and cursing, yelling hateful things at all of them that he probably only would've reserved for Peter. It took nearly an hour for him to be fully lucid again, and once he was, he couldn't stop shaking and saying that he was sorry.

In just that short amount of time, Scott completely changed his mind. He couldn't do it. They'd waited too long. In fact, there was a very good chance Stiles had already been too far gone as soon as they'd gotten the diagnosis. There was no way he could survive the bite.

Stiles surprised him when he said, "Okay, let's do it."

Scott shook his head and backed away. "No, I can't. Maybe we can find another Alpha, like Satomi or –"

"No, it's gotta be you. You're the only one I trust to do this."

Scott stood beside him again and took his arm. He didn't want to do it now that he was more sure than ever that he was about to kill his best friend. "Stiles, this isn't … you're not …"

Despite the non-stop shaking and pallid complexion, Stiles's voice was calm and more coherent than it had been in weeks. "I know."

They both had tears in their eyes when Scott leaned in to bite him. But just as his fangs were about to graze Stiles's skin, Scott stopped himself again. He looked over at Stiles one last time.

"It's okay, Scott. It's okay."

He'd just needed to hear it one more time. Before he could change his mind again, Scott clamped down on Stiles's arm. Stiles screamed and Scott quickly let go. He then took hold of Stiles's hand and held on tight, taking every ounce of pain that he was able.

For a long time it seemed hopeless. Stiles almost immediately became unconscious, and it didn't take long for the black goo to start appearing in his nose, ears, and corners of his mouth. His breathing became shallower, his heart rate slower. They all sat beside him for hours. The Sheriff held Stiles's other hand while Melissa and Deaton did what little they could do to help. All they could do was wait.

Then that night, something miraculous happened. Stiles's vitals improved, the black goo disappeared, and he got more color in his cheeks. They all gasped when the bite healed. They couldn't believe it had actually worked.

Scott was the first to notice when Stiles opened his eyes, which glowed a brilliant blue.