Scott stood in front of me, his face indifferent. "What?" I ask, worry seeping through me.
"You killed her, Stiles; it's your fault!" Scott practically yells.
Allison. He's talking about Allison. No, no, it was the nogitsune, I tell myself. None of this was my fault.
"Oh really, Stiles" The voice, the voice that talked to me endlessly as I slowly lost my mind; as it controlled my body and made me do things that I forever will regret; the nogitsune.
"No," I whisper, he's suppose to be dead! "It's just a dream, Stiles." I say to myself out loud, "It's just a dream, wake up!"
"It is not a dream, Stiles." Just the way he says my name sends shivers down my spine. Faces start to appear. My dad's, Isaac's, Lydia's, Derek's. "We will kill all of them, Stiles. One. By. One. And it will be all your fault."
I screamed myself awake. Then it started, my panic attack. I couldn't get a breath in. I was drowning. My dad was working the night shift tonight so I was all alone. I needed to call someone. Scott? No, he's still grieving for Allison. Which was your fault, I voice in my head said. My breath quickened a little bit more. Calm down, I told myself. I could call Lydia, but she was still probably grieving, too. Derek, a voice in my head said. My shaky hand reached for my phone, and once it turned on, I looked through my contacts. I finally saw Derek's name and I clicked the call button. My vision was already starting to get blurry.
"Stiles." I hear him say, he sounded very annoyed. Probably because I woke him up at 2am. Maybe this wasn't the best idea. Oh well, you've already done the damage.
"De-Derek," I'm already starting to lose my voice; due to me not breathing correctly and all.
"Stiles? Are you alright?" Derek asks, more alert now. I try to answer, I really do, but all that comes is short intakes of breath. "Stiles? That's it I'm coming over, whether you like it or not." The line goes dead after that. Right now, though, I have to try to calm myself down. I try to hold my breath in for four, and then out for four but that doesn't go so well, in fact, I think I just made it worse.
Luckily for me, I hear my window open, signaling Derek's arrival.
"Stiles!" He yells. He rushes over to me and sits in front of me. He puts a hand on my shoulder and forces me to look in his eyes. They look worried, why, I don't know. "Stiles," He repeats, "Focus on my voice." I do, I focus on his wonderful, soothing voice. Yep, that's right. Right when I get over my crush on Lydia Martin, I fall for another unattainable person. Derek Hale. "Stiles," He says again, then puts my hand over his chest. "Breathe with me. In," He exaggerates an intake of breath, then I try to breath in, I somewhat fail. Then he exaggerates an outtake of breath, "Out," I try to copy him, and I fail miserably. We repeat this process over and over again.
Finally, after what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes, I'm back to normal. "Thanks." I tell him.
"It's what pack does, we take care of each other." I'm pack? Apparently I said that out loud because he answers, "Yes, you are."
"But I'm only an annoying human that just tags along with Scott, but now his first girlfriend is dead because of me and he probably hates me by now so-"
"Stiles, it wasn't your fault."
"Yes it-"
"No." He says very firmly, "It wasn't, and Scott doesn't hate you, and if he does, I'll rip out his throat. With my teeth." He finished the last part with a small smile.
"I thought I was the only one aloud to get their throat ripped out by your teeth."
He chuckles, and then, "Stiles?"
"Yeah?" I reply.
"You're not annoying." Now that, surprises me.
"Really? But what about all the times you've thrown me against a wall, or threaten me, or smash my head against the steering wheel, even?"
"It was for your protection." At the confused look I give him, he continues, "At the time, I thought you were too young, so I did the only thing I could think of for you to not like me."
"I'll never not like you, sourwolf."
"Yeah, I know that now."
"And you thought I was too young for what, exactly?" I ask, curiosity consuming me.
"For this." And with that his lips crash into mine. It takes me a second to register what's happening, but when I finally do, I return the kiss. It's soft and and gentle at first, but it starts to get a little heated. He bites my bottom lip and I moan. Embarrassed, I blush, but then he grabs my face with both of his hands and kisses me harder than before.
We pull away for air and look into each other's eyes. I ask the one question that's been bugging since his lips first touched mine. "Why?"
"Because, I love you Stiles Stilinski. I love the way you start to ramble when you're nervous. I love your cute little moles that dot your face. I love how you talk with your hands when you talk about something you love. I love how your willing to save the pack, even if your human. I love that your able to put a smile on my face with your jokes and sarcasm. I love how your such a nerd over Star Wars and comic books. I just love you."
I started to tear up at these words. Yes, I know everything he said was totally cliché, but those were literally the nicest words someone has said to me in the past year. So I did what anyone in my place would do. I respond with the three magical words.
"I love you, too, Derek Hale."