As soon as they were out of earshot of their parents, Scott took Stiles's arm and forced him to make eye contact.
"This is bad," he said desperately, his voice cracking.
"No shit, Scott," Stiles hissed, causing Scott to flinch. "Oh - sorry, sorry, but - I know what you're going to say Scott and just don't, okay just don't, because we can't give that motherfucker the power of a werewolf! He's done enough damage in my human body! We can't risk it! Everyone we know could die, Scott, he literally wants to kill. Everyone. Not just me, everyone."
Scott's hand gripped Stiles's forearm convulsively. There were tears in his eyes.
"I don't care, Stiles. I can't just watch you die when I know I can fix you! I don't care about everyone else, okay? You're my best friend… you're my brother."
Stiles's throat closed up and he could feel tears escaping his eyes. But he knew he had to be strong. Resist Scott's ridiculous cute puppy eyes. He had it all figured out, after all. When he died, so did the shadow. Which meant he couldn't hurt anybody else. Ever.
Scott must have read his mind because he growled and said, "Stiles, I know what you're thinking - I used to think that too, remember?" A flare, gasoline, yes he remembered, he remembered so clearly - "but it's not true. You're trying not to hurt us? Then don't die on us, Stiles! Death happens to the living, remember? Stiles?"
That last one came out as a whine, pleading and full of pain. Stiles had the odd sensation of wanting to laugh at Scott's dog-like tendencies at the same time as his chest felt like it was being ripped open, a hole that he'd buried down deep yawning open (remember? remember?), and he knew that Scott could smell the grief and pain coming off him in waves. Scott sobbed once, ragged, and pulled Stiles forward into a hug, warm and familiar, but wet with tears.
They stayed like that for a long time before they spoke again.
"Scott, you know I won't agree to the bite with this thing still in my head."
"I know," Scott sounded broken, completely broken.
"We can either figure out how to get rid of it, or let the Oni deal with me, or let the dementia deal with me. Those are our options. Not the bite. Not when there are so many lives at risk."
Scott had his head in his hands, shaking and still crying, but he forced himself to look up and smile.
"We're going to figure it out, Stiles. I swear to you we will figure this out. I love you, man."
Despite everything, Stiles found himself smiling. "I love you too, Scott.
That wouldn't be the end of it, he knew for a fact. But at least he had his brother by his side.