A/N: Just finished the last of Teen Wolf and so I thought I'd add a little something to the end of 3B. Is it just me or did it feel a bit fast the way it ended? Anyway, enjoy! This takes place after the defeat of the Nogitsune, just after Lydia sees that Aiden is dead. Please review. That would make me so happy. Or send a PM. Either way.

-Kenxi :D

One second she was hugging him fiercely, nearly knocking him over in his weak state, the next she was gone, running toward the dead boy she had loved.

Stiles wrapped his arms around himself as if he could somehow get warm against the cold chill in the air. Not that it did much; he was still freezing as he had been the past few days. Of course, that probably had something more to do with the whole being possessed than the weather.

He let out a slow, shaky breath.

Reaching out with one hand he grabbed the metal rail next the school steps and found himself grasping it as if his life depended on it. Using the support of it (he no longer had his strawberry blonde crush to help him out) he lowered himself down onto the last few steps, watching Lydia as she sobbed over Aiden. Perhaps the tears were for Allison as well.

A sudden tightness gripped his chest—something he knew all too well to be a sign of a panic attack. But, even as he increased the strength of his hold on the cold metal bar with both hands, he knew that this was not the case. For it was not fear, but grief, that struck him, making it somewhat difficult to breathe.

Just like a panic attack.

Somewhere, in the back of his consciousness, he was aware of Kira and Isaac making their way past him and over to where Lydia and—and Aiden were. At least they had the heart to let him be. He also somewhat noticed that Scott had not joined them, but didn't really care at the moment.

He gasped at the emotional agony in his body, quickly leaning forward so as to press his head against the rail, right in between the spaces being occupied by his hands. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, hardly registering the tears freefalling from his eyes.

"If there is a God in heaven, please just let me die. Don't take away those others I killed, take me instead. I can't—"

Stiles broke off his whispered plea. It seemed silly, in a way, to be thinking about God after all of the supernatural things they had just gone through. But then again, his mom had believed in God. Couldn't he too, at least?

He squeezed his hands harder against the bar they held, as if doing so would tether him down into actual reality. Because this couldn't be real. This was all too painful to be real. Nothing should hurt this much. For the first time in Stiles' life, it was the facts that he couldn't seem to comprehend, the fantasy being what he actually wanted to hold onto. But, as always, Stiles knew the truth, no matter how hard he wanted it to be something else.

Allison.

Aiden.

Dead.

Because of him.

He cracked one eye open to look at his hand next to his face. It was the Nogitsune that had killed and hurt people with his hands—not Stiles himself. He knew that. He knew it and it didn't make anything easier in the slightest. If anything, it made it even more difficult. To know that it was his face that had hurled innocent people into their deaths. People he loved. People who were loved by somebody. And he couldn't control anything. No, the sick, twisted demon inside him made him watch. It fed off of the pain like a normal human fed off of chocolate. And Stiles, one of few humans even a part of this supernatural crap, was too weak to even do anything about it. Even now that he was in control of his body again, there was nothing he could do.

The grief was not lessening one bit, perhaps it was even escalating, but at least the effects of it were slowly easing. Stiles could feel his breathing levelling once again, the iron fist around his chest slowly unwrapping itself. It was as if he had come to accept the reality of things to a point where he had given up on trying to push them away. Control was overrated, it would seem.

The slight feeling of a hand on his shoulder yanked him from his thoughts so quickly, he actually flinched. Turning his head, he saw Scott behind him, surprisingly with no sign of tears in his eyes. Albeit, the pain was still there, strong to a point of being near tangible.

"Stiles," Scott said, voice steady, "we're going to be okay. It definitely doesn't seem like it now... but we will be. I know it."

If he hadn't been just about to break right then, Stiles might have actually laughed out loud. Spoken like a true True Alpha. All the same, a mirthless snort still elicited from him.

"I just got Allison killed, Scott," Stiles stated flatly. He found himself voicing his blunt thoughts for the first time almost as strong as Scott was his. If, of course, those had truly been his thoughts. He looked Scott firmly in the eye and wiped a hand over his tear streaked face as he continued, ignoring the expression of his friend. "Allison and Aiden. So many people are dead and hurt because of me. Yeah, I mean, it wasn't really me, so to speak, but..." Any sense of normality in his words disappeared, leaving the hoarse whisper of the horrific truth audible in his voice. "It was still me."

Stiles broke away from Scott's gaze. He had said what he wanted to—he wasn't going to watch the intense pain on his friend's face any longer than need be. His mind was just as fragile as his body at this point; that expression would simply be too much to handle. Instead he continued to focus on Lydia once again. Her sobs had eased a bit as the reality of things began settling in.

He knew how that felt.

The hand on his shoulder gripped him tighter—Stiles had forgotten it was even there, to be honest. But even as he felt Scott join him on the cement stairs, Stiles refused to turn his face away from physical proof of the pain he had caused.

"Yeah, it was your face that killed people, man. But that has nothing to do with you. Even if you hadn't been possessed by the Nogitsune, it still would have found another host and killed those people, just the same."

"You don't get it, Scott." Stiles could see Chris Argent trying to soothe Lydia, and her not responding at all to it. He hastily wiped away the tears that escaped his eyes once more. "It couldn't possess one of you guys because none of you are human. I'm the human one. Me. I'm the background, comedic, weak, unimportant, utterly human part of this pack, and because of that, it chose me. My face was far more influential than just another regular human. It was toying with you—all of you. And that's on me for the rest of my life. That's what you just don't get, Scott. And you never will."

There was clearly no encouraging words left to say that hadn't already been said or implied. Stiles was smart, he already knew all of the crap people were believing so that they wouldn't fall apart. Stiles, however, had already fallen apart. Again, control was so overrated. He was gonna believe whatever the heck the truth was.

And so, with nothing left to say, Scott let out a sigh and just stayed there next to Stiles on the cold stairs. Two best friends, broken friends, with a tie between them stronger than anything, sat together in silence while they all mourned for the lost lives.

For now, it was all they could do.

For now, it was enough.

A/N: I felt that Teen wolf was missing a little something with Stiles and the show's best bromance. Hopefully this was okay—not too choppy. :D I am thinking about putting another something like this as another chapter concerning Scott after the whole Beserker thing at the end of the fourth season. Let me know what you think! Please review! Tell me your thoughts, feelings…confessions of love. Anything. Thanks mucho!

-Kenxi