Author's Note: For some this subject matter may be triggering or confronting. I had difficulty writing a lot of this but its something I knew I had to write. A lot was inspired by difficult situations occurring in my own life, so please no negative criticism. Not for this one.
Things had only gotten harder since Scott and his mother had moved away a year ago. How could he blame them though, a fresh start could give them everything the needed. But then, at the same time a fresh start meant Stiles lost his best friend in the process. It started with a phone call maybe once a week, text here and there. Then when Stiles would call there would be no answer, nor a call back. There would be no text messages exchanged. There would be the time he rang Scott in desperate need, to find the number disconnected. To no longer his friend on facebook, as if they never knew each other. The last connection, the McCall house, which he would drive by every day just on the minute chance they had come back . . . to only be inhabited by new people, a new family.
Scott had always been the one steady in his life, even if he was slightly volatile at times. He was there for everything. Had been the one Stiles could crawl to in the middle of the night, push away to have him never leave his side, be there when his mother died, to be the person to make him find value in his life.
Each day blurred into the next for Stiles. No one noticed as the life in his eyes seemed to dull away to something lifeless, no one noticed as the clothes started to get baggier, no one noticed as his face began to resemble something skeletal. No one noticed the bruises on his arms were not from being slammed into lockers, no one noticed he never sat in the cafeteria anymore. No one noticed he never attended any parties any more, well that didn't say much anyway, when no one noticed him how would he even get invited to them? No one would notice the fact that if anyone hit him on his thighs the wince of pain was not because he was weak, no not at all but due to pain self-inflicted.
No one would question the sheriff, no one would question what went on behind closed doors in his house. No one would question where the copious amounts of alcohol went that the sheriff bought. But maybe if someone had . . .
The first time it ever happened is still a blur for Stiles, but he vividly remembers the glass crashing beside his head on the wall, shards piercing into his skin, leaving ruby red droplets to fall slowly to the floor. His dad had started drinking more heavily after his mum died. It was his way of coping, Stiles knew that, would never bring it up, nor talk about it. He would just go around in the morning picking up the empty bottles strewn over the carpet, drop them all into a bag and take them out to the garbage. It was his dad's way of coping, he knew his mum's death was hard on him and the least he could do was clean up. The least he could do was take what his dad did to him, fact he deserved it and it was only fair.
He had told Scott the little grazes from the glass were the result of him falling over on his front path upon getting home from school, Scott of course brushed it off knowing Stiles' clumsiness. Besides, after Scott moved away who was there left to question him? He had always been the awkward sidekick anyway, exactly that, the one on the side, the one that no one really paid any attention to.
It was about 4 months after Scott left home that things changed. A tear fell down his cheek as he watched his father yell at him once more, as he cowered further into the wall than humanly possible, as another glass was once again smashed next to his head on the wall. His father pushed his fist into Stiles' stomach repeatedly, making Stiles sure that he would have an eternal bruise. Next thing he knew he tasted blood in his mouth from the punch now aimed at his face. His father then stumbled off, mumbling about how everything could have been better had he they never had a kid.
Taking in a gulp of air Stiles ran up to his room, grabbed the duffle bag under his bed and chucked some pants, t-shirts, a jacket, pair of shoes, phone, wallet and finally the picture of his mother that he kept beside his bed. It was the bare minimum, all that he would need. He waited until he heard the snores coming from his fathers room to walk down the stairs, grabbing his keys on the way out and sliding out the front door, running to his jeep, heart beating rapidly as he started the engine. Then he was gone.
The first place he drove to was the only one where he ever felt at peace, and maybe it was because he knew he might end up there sooner than expected.
He touched the photo of his mother, a tear rolling down his face. Life was harsh sometimes, did bad things to good people for absolutely no reason, why couldn't it have been the people that deserved it that bad things happened to.
He stood silently before walking back to his jeep, knowing this would be the last time that he would see his mother's grave, knowing this would be the last moment of peace, happiness, whatever it was. He drove until he reached the woods then veered off the road knowing the track by heart, it was the only place he went when his mother was dying. The only place he felt safe after she was gone except for her grave. He kept driving until he reached the jetty that looked out onto the large expanse of water that was the lake on the outskirts of beacon hills, thought really was large enough to call part of the ocean further out. He climbed out of his jeep, walking slowly down the 5 metre jetty until he reached the end. He always loved this jetty specifically for the fact that no one used it any more, it was old, weathered, but he loved it all the same. He sat down and swung his legs over the edge. The light of the moon on the water was always something he found beautiful, one thing in an ugly, ugly world. It was the only thing that could calm him, give him the strength to push forward, the hope that there was something good in the world.
This time however things were different. This time nothing would continue, this time he didn't have the strength to push forward. This time, nothing was strong enough to heal the damage.
A tear slid down his cheek as he stared out at the water, eyes travelling along the reflection of the moon down the lake. He rarely cried, even when he was lying in pain after one of his father's episode. Maybe it was because he knew that this would be the last time he would see the water like this, peaceful, silent, beautiful. Maybe it was because this was the last time he would ever sit where he was sitting looking up at the moon wondering if his mother was really up there, wondering whether maybe if one thing had been different would he be sitting here now, one small detail, instead of living in Beacon Hills, instead of being born to his parents. Either way it doesn't matter because things happen how they are always meant to, regardless of the pain suffered by some.
He glanced at the time on his phone. It was nearing four am. He stood up and walked back to his jeep, grabbing a pair of knit pants from his bag and quickly changing into them before swapping his t-shirt for a new one and the hoodie he had shoved in the bag. He reached into the glovebox of the car finding a pad of paper, and a pen.
And so he wrote what would be the last things he would write, his all going into the words going on the paper.
The sun had risen and it was 7 am before he knew it. He had only just finished writing, perfectly the words before folding the piece of paper and leaving it in plain sight on the dash of the jeep where it would be found. He put the car into drive, following the familiar path up, the five minute drive up the winding road not far from where he veered off to the top of the cliff overlooking the lake.
This was it, his time. He slowly got out of the jeep, his feet mindlessly taking him forwards. It was so beautiful looking out across the water even in the daylight. He took off his shoes before standing tall. His feet took him to the edge. His breathing was calm surprisingly, this was how it was supposed to be. This was his time.
His toes curled over the edge of the rock, a rush of air coming into his lungs. He was ready.
"Stiles, stop!"
It was a voice he knew well but hadn't heard in years. Trembling he turned around.
"Derek?" he whispered.
"What are you doing?! I was driving past and saw you, Stiles you can't do this, you can't do this to me!" Derek pleaded as he slowly walked closer, afraid if he walked to fast Stiles would just jump.
"Sometimes life has funny ways of making things happen. It's my time Derek, it's my turn to go."
"No, no, no! You can't do this to me, you're the one thing that I have left."
"You haven't seen me in 3 years Derek, I'm a part of your past now, its time for you to sieze your future.."
"You know that I couldn't see you, you know what your dad said about me when I was charged, even though it had nothing to do with me I became a marked man, of course I couldn't come to you, I'd be behind bars for even looking at you, and it would have been just as bad for you had you come to me. You can't leave me, not you."
Stiles just looked away for a moment. "You'll be happy Derek, find someone who loves you, makes you feel like your everything to them. You'll achieve whatever you set your mind to, and you will understand that things happen not because we want them to but because that's the way they are meant to be, you'll understand, you'll know."
"You can't do this Stiles! I love you, I love you, please don't do this," tears streamed down Derek's face as he continued.
"Find happiness Derek, true happiness, I know you will, you'll have everything you ever wanted. Live your life, don't be afraid, I'll always be there in your heart no matter where I am. Be the person I know you are and never let anything stop you. Don't try to get over all that has happened, learn to live with it and you will always be the strongest, kindest, gentlest man I will have ever known, and you are the only reason that this is hard. The only reason, because I don't want to hurt you more than what you have already had to deal with. But, someday you'll understand, someday you'll know why. And don't ever doubt how much you meant to me and how much I have always loved you."
With that Stiles took the step backwards and his body fell through the air as Derek fell to his knees sobs catching in his throat.
Author's Note: There will be one or possibly two more chapters depending on how long the story ends up being after the chapter to finish the story up. Like I said before, please no negative feedback, however other thoughts on the story would be greatly appreciated.