"Hurting"

It was Thursday afternoon, Stiles was sitting in sixth period World History with Scott, listening to the Mrs. Schilling talk about the government and how it all plays out. He wasn't listening, she's a great teacher and all but there was so many other things on Stiles' mind that he couldn't really focus on how to become a senator.

The alpha pack had finally left town, and they defeated the Darach. Cora was up and running again, and Derek seemed to be fairly back to normal. Everything was going good. Those weren't the things on Stiles' mind though, the things on his mind were far more personal than that.

Stiles was rapidly becoming depressed. With everything that had happened, how his father was taken, and he couldn't help him. It always had to be Scott saving everyone he loves, its never him. Hes around a bunch of supernatural people all the time. Scott, Derek, Cora, Peter, Isaac, Lydia, Deaton, hell even Allison! They were all something special, and Stiles was a puny, no good human.

Stiles' dad had learned about werewolves and all these other things while he was being held captive with Melissa and Chris by Jennifer. It was hard to believe at first but he finally gave up and just took it all in, believing it. It was hard not to with everything that happened, he either had to believe or play pretend.

Stiles and his father had a long talk about it, and John had made Stiles promise to be careful and never try to fight anything supernatural, to leave that to his werewolf friends. Stiles had agreed, for his dad's sake and his. Stiles was better at research, not fighting.

Derek had texted Scott, Isaac, and Cora that they needed to come to the Hale house right after school. He had told Scott to bring Stiles and Lydia also. Thats what also makes Stiles depressed, Derek never text's him to come over, he always tells Scott to bring him, like hes a tag along, not apart of the pack. Why would he be? He isn't anything special. All he does is fuck up everything and make people mad.

The bell rang, and the gang was off to Derek's preparing themselves with whatever bullshit would happen. Hoping for the best, expecting the worst. That's kind of how the gang lives their lives now. Shitty isn't it?

x

"You guys can relax, nothing bad is happening. We just need to train" It felt like a weight has seriously been lifted off of everyone's shoulders, Stiles let out a breath and let himself relax. Derek gave a small smile to everyone and started giving orders to them. They would be sparing, while Stiles and Lydia were to just sit and wait for what they need to do. Stiles guessed he'd just sit there the whole time, while Lydia would see what other cool things she could do with her banshee-ness.

Stiles was watching the wolfs spare, Scott against Isaac, which was painfully cute to watch because they didn't want to hurt each other and they kept letting each other win, cutest boyfriend awards obviously go to them. And Peter against Cora, which was weird to watch, so he mainly kept his eyes on Scott and Isaac. Derek was standing a little ways away, judging silently, sometimes loudly. He was with Lydia, they were seeing what they could do with this, Stiles, like always, had to do research about banshee's and their powers. So the two were practicing them.

He was beginning to get restless, and frankly pissed off, why did he need to be there? Honestly. It wasn't like he had anything to do. He wasn't even the chauffeur! Scott and Isaac had Scott's bike, Cora had a car, and Lydia had a car! He could be home right now doing homework and playing video games instead of sitting in some cheap chair on the old Hale House porch doing homework and watching werewolves fight each other.

He hadn't noticed someone had walked over to him until he heard someone clear his throat. Stiles looked up and saw Derek towering over him, his eyebrows raised. "What" Stiles said, no emotion in his words really, expect for a hint of pissed off-ness. "What are you doing?" Derek looked awkward, he was just standing there looking down at Stiles, who was obviously doing homework, he was making an attempt at conversation, but sadly Derek sucks at conversations.

"Homework Derek, because I have nothing else to do. I don't get why I'm here, I'm human Derek, nothing special, I don't belong at your practices, I would die if I was paired up against any of them, all I ever do is research, and you don't need practice for that" It felt good to get that off his chest, while he was saying that he stood up and was fairly close to Derek, he wasn't mad or anything, he was just frustrated.

Derek gave him a sympathetic look, and shook his head. "You may not be a wolf, or a banshee, or a werewolf hunter, or anything supernatural, but we need you here, we need you in general Stiles. Your an important part of this pack." Derek wasn't one with words, but Stiles had to admit, he was pretty good this time, he almost made Stiles believe he was apart of the pack. But he knew Derek only wanted him for his super fast searching skills, Stiles was the expendable person. He would never amount to anything, no matter what Derek said.

By the time Derek was done talking everyone was looking at them. Stiles cleared his throat and looked around with a blank face. "I need to go, I have a test to study for. Sorry" Stiles half heartedly said this, he gathered his things and almost ran out of there, not wanting them to see his tears, he got in his jeep and let them fall, small sobs escaped his lips, he tried to be as quiet as he could knowing they could hear him either way probably, but he couldn't stop them.

He started his car and sped away from the Hale House, trying to get home in record time. Tears were streaming down his face and things were getting blurry, he didn't want to crash so he pulled over on the side of the road, and let himself cry, hard. He was fed up with everything, he was finally breaking. He couldn't handle being this way anymore. He knew what was going to happen when he got home, he itched for it.

x

Stiles spent another minute or two crying, by this time they were just dry sobs escaping his lips, having his tears all gone. He started his jeep back up and sped off towards home, making it there in about six minutes. His dad was at work so he wouldn't have to worry about him walking in.

He ran to his room, opening his closet, grabbing a big black box all the way in the back hiding under a pile of magazines about cars. He went to his bed and sat down, taking a breath, he opened the box and looked inside. There were three razors, Vicodin, a pipe, weed, a lighter and a bottle vodka. He normally never did the weed, or Vicodin that was for days he was dreading life, days he needed to just distract himself. He cut sometimes, when he felt the need to release. The alcohol was mainly for fun when Scott was over.

He hasn't opened this box in 5 months. Opening this box made him feel like he was failing himself. But he couldn't help it. It had to happen. Stiles opened his laptop and put on "Bullet" by Hollywood Undead. It was his song he played when he did this. When he did them all together, the days he did them all together were the days he was too far out, the days when he needed to stop giving a fuck for the night.

My legs are dangling off the edge

The bottom of the bottle is my only friend

I think I'll slit my wrists again and I'm

Gone, gone, gone, gone

The song started to play and Stiles took out the weed, lighter, and pipe. He prepped it and lit the lighter, bringing the pipe to his mouth, he sucked it, feeling the smoke fill his lungs. He took the pipe away from his mouth and held in the smoke, a couple of seconds later he blew it out and went in for another hit, desperately wanting to feel the high.

My legs are dangling off the edge

A stomach full of pills didn't work again

I'll put a bullet in my head and I'm

Gone, gone, gone, gone

It took about 4 more hits till he felt the amazing effect of the weed. His brain was numb and felt lighter, like he could float, but it just wasn't enough for him, he wanted more release. So he put away his pipe and weed and brought out his razor, examining it before taking his pants off and pushing up his boxers.

Gone too far yea I'm gone again

It's gone on too long tell you how it ends

I'm sitting on the edge with my two best friends

One's a bottle of pills and one's a bottle of gin.

Charlie Scene's part came on and he lowered the razor blade to his thigh. There were old marks there, faded, and ugly. He was about to make them some new friends. He slowly slid the razor across his thigh, hissing as he felt the skin being ripped open, blood slowly trickled down his leg, it wasn't deep enough to kill, but it was a decent cut.

I'm twenty stories up, yea up at the top

I've polished off this bottle now it's pushin' me off

Asphalt to me has never looked so soft

I bet my momma found my letter now she's calling the cops

Stiles made more and more and more cuts until he was satisfied, this was the process, first weed, then cutting, then alcohol, then Vicodin. He left the blood there, the cuts weren't bleeding anymore but he was too high to get up and clean himself off, besides he wasn't done with the fun.

I've gotta take this opportunity before I miss it

'Cause now I hear the sirens and they're off in the distance

Believe me when I tell you that I've been persistent

'Cause I'm more scarred, more scarred then my wrist is

I've been trying too long with too dull of a knife

But tonight I made sure that I sharpened it twice

I never bought a suit before in my life

But when you go to meet God you know you wanna look nice

So if I survive then I'll see you tomorrow

Yea I'll see you tomorrow...

My legs are dangling off the edge

The bottom of the bottle is my only friend

I think I'll slit my wrists again and I'm

Gone, gone, gone, gone

My legs are dangling off the edge

A stomach full of pills didn't work again

I'll put a bullet in my head and I'm

Gone, gone, gone, gone

Stiles took a swig of the burning goodness, God, he was so far deep, he's never done this like this before. He'd be surprised if he woke up tomorrow honestly. Stiles took another swig while the song continued playing. He wasn't listening anymore, he already knew all of the lyrics.

The song ended, so Stiles played it again, it was almost over now and he was sitting in bed. He had cleaned up and put everything away, it was hard since he was high, and buzzed. He put everything away except for three vicodin pills, he had them in his hand, he was looking at them, debating whether to take them or not, he decided he would, that if something goes wrong, no one besides his father and Scott would really care anyways.

The chorus played as he swallowed the pills one by one, he laid down, and was drifting off to sleep as the final part of the song played.

I wish that I could fly

Way up in the sky

Like a bird so high

Oh I might just try

I wish that I could fly

Way up in the sky

Like a bird so high

Oh I might just try, oh I might just try

I made a new story! It's Sterek :D Yeah, this has MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS. As I said in the summary. Hope y'all liked it! :) I will still write "Just Breathe" so don't think I'll neglect it because of this story! I won't! Feel free to leave a review :D. Love y'all!