"Dad?" Stiles crept around the corner and stood awkwardly in the door way, waiting for his father to reply.
Papa Stilinski sat on the floor of the master bedroom, his hand was hovering over a picture frame; his shoulders were shaking slightly, a bottle sat next to him, half empty.
"Dad? I'm…I'm going to Scott's. Is that okay?" Stiles shuffled into the bedroom, careful to keep a distance from his father.
"Sure, g-go ahead…" Papa stuttered, not looking at Stiles.
"Dad, are you okay? Do you want me to get…?" Stiles stopped himself, he'd just realized what was wrong, and he'd probably just made it worse.
"Mom…? I wish you could, but under the circumstances," Papa Stilinski sighed and took another swig from his bottle.
Stiles placed a comforting hand on his father's shoulder, "I don't have to go to Scott's…" he replied.
"No, no go out, have fun, be a kid, have fun…"
"Dad, I…"
"JUST GO!" He hadn't meant to yell, but Stiles fell backwards and then got to his feet and burst through the door, slamming the front door behind him.
"Can I ask you a question?"
Scott nodded as he tossed another stone across the lake, watching it disappear under the surface.
"When your dad left…was your mom distant? Or did she love you so much that it was suffocating?" Stiles wondered aloud, tossing his stone and watching it plunk into the murky depths.
Scott didn't answer right away, he glanced at he rising moon, and he could feel the power of it already.
"She was…my mom, nothing changed."
Stiles nodded. He loved Mrs. McCall; she was like a second mother. But she wasn't his, she was Scott's…he'd killed his own mother, not directly, but indirectly.
"Sometimes…" Stiles muttered, "Sometimes, at night, um, I lie awake, and think about how she'd still be alive…if I wasn't."
Scott gave Stiles a stern look, "Don't say that…I'm so glad you're here, Stiles, c'mon."
Scott gave Stiles a hug; Stiles didn't return it.
"It's the truth Scott! Cold, hard facts…if I've died, my mom would still be alive. My dad would be better off without me, trust me when I say this, because I've thought this through rationally and irrationally."
Stiles sighed at the end of his speech and sat back down again.
"What are you gonna do? You can come stay with me…" Scott offered.
"No, Scott…I need to get out, out of Beacon Hills, out of California…possibly out of the United States. I can't deal with any of this anymore." Stiles stated.
"Stiles…you can't leave!" Scott felt like someone had just punched a hole in his chest, "I've already lost my dad; I can't loose my best friend too…"
Stiles looked away, he didn't wanna hurt anybody else, he'd already hurt is parents, and that was what was weighing him down, if he hurt Scott too, it would kill him.
"Isaac and Derek come back tomorrow, can you wait until then? Stay at my place tonight," Scott pleaded.
Stiles thought for a moment and crossed his arms, "Fine…fine."
"Stiles!" Derek's gruff voice woke him up.
"Mm-wha?" Scott mumbled as the bed shook and Stiles was ripped from it into a bear hug by Derek.
Isaac came in just after, looking disheveled and out of breath.
"We couldn't have walked?" he demanded glaring at Derek.
Derek didn't answer as he let Stiles go; Stiles couldn't meet Derek's blue eyes, his own were still itchy with sleep.
"Hey, you okay?" Derek gently gripped Stiles's chin and made him look at him.
Stiles didn't answer; he struggled out of Derek's grip and shuffled to the bathroom, slamming the door.
"He's not a morning person, is he?" Isaac wondered, embracing Scott and kissing him softly.
Scott smiled as Isaac pulled away from the kiss, "No, not like you."
Isaac smiled.
"That's cute," Derek scoffed.
Scott rolled his eyes and watched as Stiles emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed and shaven. Derek tried to touch him but Stiles flinched away, turning into the living room and flicking on the TV, loud enough so that they couldn't hear him crying.
"He wants to leave," Scott said, running his hand through his hair.
Derek stood stock still, "Leave? What do you mean?"
"He wants to leave Beacon Hills, to keep from hurting his Dad, and me, and everyone else." Scott explained.
Derek was quiet, and then he stomped from the room, followed closely by Isaac and Scott.
"What is this I hear about you leaving?" Derek demanded, giving Stiles a deathly glare.
"You can't keep me here Derek; I don't care what you say!" Stiles burst out.
"I care about what you say! How could you think that you being here is hurting people?" Derek demanded.
"My mom is dead, Derek! I killed her, I should've died instead, but she saved me…she saved me so that I could live. I don't want to live anymore, because she took my life!"
There was a silence among minds as each was shocked. The TV turned off, and three pairs of eyes stared at Stiles.
"B-because she t-took my l-life…" Stiles sobbed, kneeling too the floor and running his hands over his face.
"Stiles…" Scott gripped Stiles's shoulders and knelt beside him, "Look at me."
Isaac sat on the couch, trying not to stare.
"We all need you here buddy, you're the backbone that holds this pack together, you-you're basically the brains of this whole operation…we'd all be dead right now with out you…" Scott choked back a sob, and patted stiles on the shoulder. "Now c'mon, get up,"
Stiles sat back on the floor and whipped the tears from his face and shook his head, "She took my life, Scott, and how can I live without a life?"