Disclaimer: Teen Wolf is not mine, if it was, Erica'd be alive.

Author's note:

Hello, you guys! Here I am again.

Do you want to know who I really miss in TW? ERICA. :( And I was writing my "Believe in magic" when the characters started to talk about her and I felt like writing something about her. Not just her, but also Stiles.

It's not romantic and it's actually quite sad, I think. Not something you may say "Oh, I need some tissues", but anyway. It turned out the way I wanted and I'm happy about it.

I hope you guys like it as well.

WARNING: my english sucks. sorry.

Also, I wrote it based on Arcade Fire's "Wake Up" (that is one of my favorite songs of them and if they don't play it at the concert I'm going, I'm gonna be MAD), and I suggest you listen while reading.

We'll just have to adjust
A Teen Wolf fanfiction

"It might surprise you to hear me say that guilt is a good thing. It's a rather mature emotion."
Marin Morrell, Teen Wolf 3x20

"Something filled my heart with nothing;
Someone told me not to cry.
(…) Children, wake up,
hold your mistakes up, before they turn the summer into dust."
Arcade Fire

The first day of school after his mother died was also the first day he shut Erica Reyes out.

He had promised his father that he was fine and ready, but step into Beacon Hill Elementary School proved otherwise. He wasn't ready. He wasn't even near ready. He would never be ready again.

Luckily, his friend Scott was by his side, walking up the stairs with him and sitting in front of him at classes, trying to ease the tension. Scott was a nice guy and his mother knew how to make Stiles feel better.

But Erica? He couldn't even look at her.

At first, he didn't realized why, he just felt like avoiding her. She's a girl and couldn't understand how a boy feels with the loss of his mother. She couldn't know, she had her own mother.

And girls, oh my God, they are so full of themselves! They thing they know everything, don't they? Well, not this time. And so he was able to avoid her for most of the day.

He wasn't so successful when they had their free time at the square. Some kids – Jackson Witthemore being their leader – trapped him on a corner and started to pick on him for his lost, ask him how was it to be motherless and how was it to be son of a crazy woman and Stiles started to lose it.

The symptoms weren't familiar, even though it happened a couple of times already. The first thing was the air – it seemed to disappear around him and to breath was a difficult activity. Where was Scott? Then came the ache; his heart seemed to have half of its size and his head felt light with so little oxygen. Scott?

But Scott didn't come to his rescue. Erica did.

"Hey, Whittemore!" she said bravely, something she usually tried not to do since her goal was to become invisible. "Why don't you get lost and leave him alone?"

The boys started to laugh that evil laugh kids have.

"Look at that! Stilinski has a girlfriend!" Jackson provoked. "It suits you, Stiles. The freak and the orphan."

At that point, he wasn't absorbing anything that was being said, but Erica was paying attention and she had had those insults her whole life – enough time to come up with a good comeback.

"And what about you, Jackson?" she said firmly. "Have you ever asked your real parents what you are? Stiles has a father. What do you have?"

The next thing he remembers is being helped out of the square, Erica half-carrying him inside, no teachers around and no sign of Scott. They entered in an empty class and he leaned on the wall, breathing heavily.

"What's going on?" he asked, head down. His whole body hurt. Erica came near him, her face inches away.

"You are having a panic attack." She answered. "I know how it is, I had a few of those once in a while. Stiles? You need to calm down." She held his shoulders forcing him to stand up straight. "Look at me." He didn't. "Stiles. Please, calm down, you need to breathe properly, come on! Stiles!"

And sensing that he wouldn't snap out of it, Erica hugged him. They were with that age when the girl is taller than the boy, but she was a bit of an exception, just a couple of inches taller than him. He felt her messy hair in his face and her hands on his back and slowly, he noticed the control coming back to him.

"It's okay." Erica told him with her soft voice. "Everything is gonna be okay, Stiles, you'll see."

He could believe her, her words could be true and she could be right. He hugged her back, and Erica sighed.

"I'm gonna be here with you, promise." She continued. "I'm not leaving."

But the words snapped another feeling inside him. A feeling that was hitting the surface in a couple of weeks, when it was said by his mother, the exact same words so little before her death. Stiles let go of Erica, pushing her away from him. She had those damn brown eyes now confused and sad and the damn hair in the wrong shade of blonde and she was ill and she reminded him so much of his mother, it was sickening.

"Look, thank you for the help and everything." He said coldly, the effort still hurting his body and the sharpness of his tone hurting her as well. "But I don't need it. I don't need you do protect me, I can protect myself."

"Stiles…" she tried, but he wouldn't let her talk or she'd convince him otherwise.

"Actually, I don't need you ever. Understand? I don't need your friendship or your damn nose sniffing your way between Scott and I."

"You don't mean it, you're just hurt." She whispered, her hands on her back and tears on her eyes.

"No, Erica, I do mean it. Stay away from me, I don't want to talk to you or see you ever again."

"I'll give you space."

"NO!" he shouted. "Just… leave me alone! I don't like you, I don't like to have you around! Stop trying so much, you are not my friend!"

At that point, she was really crying and Stiles felt so bad. But he also couldn't handle it – to be close to this girl who his mother told him could be a good friend to him, this girl who really was a good friend and this girl that could crack in front of him and leave any moment, just like his mother did. And she ran from him, did as he said, never bothered him again.

For years, he learned to ignore Erica Reyes. It became so natural, eventually he really forgot about her. Except from one time or another when someone was commenting on her last seizure, he wouldn't bring her to his memory.

When Erica got the bite, she was like a Phoenix. She was so pretty and fierce and so different from the girl he knew that it was hard to link the image from third grade to sophomore year. She was provocative and just as rude as he was with her when they were nine. He asked for it.

But he wasn't expecting her to say the words she said to him. He wasn't expecting to be someone's crush and to know that she saw him as a real hero, even after all the mean things he said to her. He couldn't believe how self-absorbed he was ignoring that girl and not seeing at all her feelings for him.

He felt dumb and he felt sorry, but there was nothing he could do to make up with the past.

Still, he couldn't help but to feel guilt about Erica's death. He couldn't stop thinking how it somehow was his fault – that maybe, if he wasn't so deep into his grief he wouldn't make her leave, and maybe, being her friend, she wouldn't feel the need to accept Derek's offer and after being so turned down by Derek's methodology, she wouldn't leave and find the Alpha Pack.

Maybe, if he had seen Erica, she would be alive now.

And how could he believe she was dead? No one is really dead in Beacon Hills, are they? Sometimes, he wished Erica was somehow alive, just waiting to show up again, the way Peter and Kate did. Perhaps he'd feel less guilty with her walking around again.

That's why Ms. Morrell's words seemed like such bullshit to Stiles. A mature emotion, as if he could make up to death. He could never make up to everything he put Erica through, and Erica was just one topic of his list. He couldn't make up to anything, because he was just human.

And he would never forgive himself.

A/N: Hope you liked and I hope you review as well, it's important!

Thank you! x