A/N this is basically just an angsty fic because I got super bored one night! Please r/r!

"Scott McCall was..."

The young boy bowed his head, not out of respect, or even gathering his thoughts, but to spare the site of his own embarrassment. It was a dreary September day, the grass was dull and lifeless, much like the crowd that had gathered, all for that awkward high schooler and the few that had volunteered to speak, couldn't make it a few sentences without choking up, much like Stiles Stilinski. The wind barely blew, but when it did it came in short, rapid spurts almost like it wanted to catch them off guard, make someone feel something for once since the past week. A huge crowd had gathered. Anyone who had really even talked to Scott seemed to have congregated there, all to wish that seventeen year old goodbye.

"my best friend." He finished, the lump that was forming in his throat threatening to push out those tears that were brimming at his wide brown eyes. He laughed, but not the usual Stiles laugh, the heartbreaking sound of a broken boy, wishing for his friend back.

"Uh, I remember this one time, we uh," He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his plaid shirt. He knew it was a funeral, the general morbidity of it all was painstakingly obvious, but he was Stiles, and the way Scott would remember him, was like this, so why not have a little consistency? Even if it was just a shirt, at this point, it wasn't just anymore.

"Tied his hands back as I hit him with Lacrosse balls." The few members of the audience that weren't in tears, which weren't many, laughed slightly, even Stiles cracked a smile but it vanished as quick as it came. It felt foreign, like he'd never experienced it before, as now, all he truly knew was pain. "And uh, the first time we met was time out first grade year. I-I ate glue or something and Scott laughed along with me, landing us both in trouble, but uh, after that, that's how it always was. Together, or not at all." And somehow they'd always landed on together. Or at least, until now.

"He had a bit of an anger issue to be completely honest." Raising his head from looking down at the podium, his tear stained eyes searching for anyone, anyone that could connect to the truth in those words, until he saw Derek. Derek was in his tux, refined in every way except in the face. It seemed he had aged 40 years in the past week, and his once hardset eyes had now softened. The scruff that covered his face had disappeared, a clean cut, but his mouth twinged a little, knowing the truth behind Stiles' words.

"yeah he was pretty temperamental if you ask me. Another time we uh," But he couldn't continue, that lump had now grown to a full sized beach ball, lodged in his throat. The 16 year old bowed his head, focusing on the wood pattern f the podium, as his voice cracked, "We've been through a lot. Fun times, hard times, but Scott man, I gotta tell you...this is as hard as it gets. And it's even harder without you here."

"It actually...it really wasn't an anger issue. It was more this...compulsive need to play the hero in everything." But that's what Stiles had admired about Scott, his general capacity to care for everyone, without a second thought. It's just that that was also the thing that took Scott away from him. "And I gotta tell you man, I wish you had let me be Batman this one time." He refused the Alpha's. He wouldn't bend to them, and Stiles didn't even have a chance to breathe before Scott had gone down.

He looked to his side, the casket was open and Scott's eyes closed, the trace of the slash that killed him still glowing like a laser, and Stiles' couldn't hold it in any longer. "It just isn't fair! It's not fair! We were...we were supposed to grow old together, you know two cranky old men with a hell of a story to tell. That or go out with a bang. Together." He swiped again at the pools around his eyes, but they just refilled, "Together." He whispered again, barely audible.

"Scott you're my brother. And you always will be. I...I miss you." The last part was obvious, but it still hurt to say. How? How could he possibly continue going on while the person that ran next to him was gone? Forever, just like a bad dream, gone the minute he opened his eyes. But the saddest part, was that right now, his eyes were open, and Scott's brown eyes would never shine again at whatever lame joke he just told. Never again would Stiles have his brother. Not by blood. No definitely not. But by something stronger. An unexplainable bond that just bond the two together. A feeling of always having each other's back, and never letting the other fall. Well now, Stiles felt like he was falling, and this time there was no bottom to fall to. He'd just continue on in what seemed like nothingness.

"You're my brother." He finished, walking off the stage, feeling as if his inside's could eat him away. He couldn't bare to look again at the casket, knowing he wouldn't even be able to make it to his seat if he did. It was then that Stiles realized, like a semi truck hitting him straight in the gut, that a life without Scott McCall wasn't worth living. He sat down, just next to Melissa, who was sobbing uncontrollably, bent over and shaking, and Allison who looked like she's never move again. Never smile, never laugh, never be happy, because that's just what losing Scott felt like.

Isaac's POV is next!