I felt like this needed to be made.
Stiles, he’s not just your best friend, okay?
When we met you, he was your only friend.
When your mother died and your best friend Heather moved away with her mom for a few years out of grief and your other friends didn’t know how to handle panic attacks and your dad was drinking and your grades were dropping because you couldn’t focus past the ADHD before the medication started… it was probably Scott that found you.
He probably offered you his pen one day in middle school when it looked like you were just going to lose it right there because yours wasn’t working. He probably asked if you wanted help, and you were probably desperate to have someone, anyone, reach out to you at that point. You probably thanked him and he probably smiled and it was the same lopsided smile he gives now, but it was probably the first genuine smile you’d been given in months because all the rest were long-suffering, exasperated, or sympathetic. You didn’t need sympathy; you needed help, and Scott was there.
So it was probably just the two of you then. Maybe Scott was new to town when you met him, and that’s why he had never heard about your mom. His dad had left him, and maybe he needed you, too. Maybe you knew that. Maybe you both know you still need each other. Maybe you both knew there was no going back, then or ever after. You found something, Stiles, and you were unwilling to let go of it; you’re still not willing to let go of it, and now it’s changed you both.
You are probably not the cause of Scott’s heroism, but you may have been the first long-term success. He probably helped you with your homework, and you probably asked if he wanted to come over for dinner sometime even though your dad wasn’t going to cook and all you knew how to make really was grilled cheese and tomato soup or something. But Scott did come over, and you probably made him grilled cheese and you probably made one for your dad, too. And you probably took it to him where-ever he was asleep, and you woke him up and gave it to him and introduced your New Friend.
And maybe Scott’s visits were what helped your father realize he needed to sober up. Maybe he didn’t do much cooking, but he probably took you guys out to eat at least. Maybe he met Scott’s mom and realized you were reaching out for help he needed to be giving you, too. Maybe Scott’s mom was the one to suggest the psychiatrist visit that started your medication.
And somewhere in all of this, you probably realized that the panic attacks had stopped. You had an anchor long before there were werewolves that needed anchors to keep them human. Maybe Scott was your anchor to hope and reality and recovery. Maybe he still is, and maybe that’s why you stepped into that pool of gasoline, and maybe that is why he let you take the flare; I think he realized, with you standing there in front of him, that he was holding onto the wrong spark.
I wrote 399 words of Scott and Stiles’ relationship and ended up hurting myself a bit, so here, have a small drabble:
Scott loves Stiles, he does, really, but sometimes… sometimes loving Stiles is a lot of work. Not just because he can be annoying and cruel or because he can lose the plot and sometimes he makes Scott feel like a dumbass but it’s…something deeper. Stiles can be hard to love because he’s wrapped in barbwire and sarcasm and clings and clings so hard you don’t realize he’s sliced you into ribbons until later. Loving Stiles is hard because it feels like an uphill struggle all the time because when you love someone you care about them, right? But no one cares less about Stiles than Stiles himself so loving him is really, really hard.
But Scott does love Stiles and so it’s okay. All of it, its all okay, no one can be perfect and they’re all still growing, you know? He just wants it stated, for the record, that sometimes loving Stiles is very, very hard work and he knows that.
Seeing Stiles in danger never gets easier. He thought it would, it got easier to see Allison in danger after all, and Isaac, but it never gets easier to see Stiles near fighting or hear his heartbeat in the woods when there are Alphas around and something that’s killing people just waiting for them in the wings. But Allison has mad hunting skill and could kick his ass if she had to and Isaac comes with healing and claws and fangs. But Stiles…
Scott supposes that there’s a part of him that will always think of Stiles as that twelve year old with a busted lip and bandaged fingers standing next to him, utterly silent and still, at his mother’s funeral. Scott will always think of Stiles as the little boy who grinned up at him, one tooth missing, thanking him for standing up to the bullies and do you want to play my husband at recess time? He has a history with Stiles that he doesn’t have with anyone else and in those times when he loses track of Stiles in favor of flinging Kali away from Isaac or the trees separate them in the woods, Stiles becomes both that little boy and the silent preteen melded together in his head and it scares him. What if he gets hurt? What if he dies?
Because Scott loves Stiles and loving someone means you care about them.
but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for
You’re right. I am a hunter. Trained before I could even speak, and trained others.
Do you know what the first lesson we teach is?
We take our children, we bind them in a chair just like this.
Then we wait for them to get out. Most of them, it takes hours. Others? Seconds.
Let’s not talk about it…