"That's it, drink up!" Stiles pat Scott on the back, giving him a little wink. Scott swallowed a mouthful of vodka, squinting and letting out an "ah" as the liquid burned a trail down his chest. Stiles chuckled, then turned away and sighed. He felt like the shittiest friend ever; he had somehow convinced Scott that he wouldn't actually get drunk because of his werewolf powers, and Scott easily broke through the lock that Sheriff Stilinski kept on the liquor cabinet. Scott continued to take small sips; Stiles saw that he had almost finished the whole bottle and took it out of his hands. "So... what's the verdict?" Scott blinked at Stiles. "Well... I'm not sure. Is my face supposed to feel like it's burning?"
Stiles groaned. Even though getting Scott drunk was his goal, he was already having qualms about his plan. But it was for Derek; he had to go through with it, even though he knew Derek would be beyond furious. But once things blew over, they could be together for a long, long time. Scott moaned and put his head down on the table. "Stiles, can you call my mommy to come pick me up?" Stiles grabbed him by his arm and hoisted him up so he was sitting upright in the chair. He stood up, pulled out his phone and dialed Allison's number, hearing nothing but his own breath as the line rang and rang.
"C'mon Allison, pick up..." Scott moaned again behind him as Allison answered. "Stiles, what's up?" Stiles sighed, already embarrassed by what he was about to ask. "I need you to make Scott go wolf." There was a pause. "You... what?" He thought about hanging up, forgetting the whole plan and driving Scott home, but he replied, "You just have to trust me we're testing some things with his wolf abilities. Just... I don't know, you know how to make his heart rate skyrocket, could you just try?" She laughed. "Alright, fine, give the phone to him."
He handed Scott the phone, whispering "It's Allison." Scott lazily grabbed the phone and pressed it against his face, saying "Hey baby, what's up?" Stiles sat back down and tried to listen to Allison, but the only indication that it was working was the occasional flash of yellow in Scott's eyes and his teeth sharpening. That was all he needed, so he grabbed the phone out of Scott's hand as Allison said "...and then I would put my hands-" but he stopped her with, "WHOAH wait, Stiles here, thanks for that though..." He heard her gasp, then laugh as she hung up.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, knowing that what he was about to do could very well kill him, if Derek or Scott didn't first. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing his arm. Scott shook his head. "Stiles, I know... I know exactly what you're a gonna do ok? And I? Am NOT gonna let you... do that..." Stiles blinked a tear out of his eye. If he did this... his life would essentially go to hell. He grabbed Scott's hair and yanked his head back, Scott letting out a groggy yelp as he bared his fangs, his eyes going full yellow. Stiles looked away, lowering his forearm into Scott's open mouth. He could tell Scott was trying to fight it, but with a mix of the alcohol and his wolf instincts, his jaws closed around Stiles' arm.
At first Stiles hissed through his teeth, not feeling any immediate pain. However, he could feel the power of the bite start to transfer and it essentially lit the inside of his skin on fire. He screamed, yanking his arm from Scott's grip, tears streaming down his face, dripping off of his chin and nose and onto the table. Lines of blood trickled down his arm and gathered in a puddle with his tears. Scott had fallen asleep and was mumbling nonsense while Stiles prayed that the wound would start to heal, the pain would start to fade and the lines of holes would close.
He waited 5 minutes, then 10. He wasn't going to start to panic yet, he didn't know exactly how long it took for the bite to be fully transferred and start healing. He grabbed a dishtowel and applied pressure to the bite, stumbling to the bathroom to disinfect and dress it. He was lightheaded and his vision swam; he had lost more blood than he thought. He heard Scott call from the kitchen, "Stiles?! Are you ok?!" He cleared his throat, croaking out a, "Yeah, fine!" He took a giant breath and closed his eyes, feeling hot tears start to form again. What if...
No. He told himself he wasn't gonna think about that. He turned the shower on as hot as it could go, allowing the room to steam up. He wiped the condensation off of the mirror and looked at himself, shaking and pale and terrified and in pain, wet streaks running down his face. He heard a commotion downstairs and wiped away the salty wetness with his sleeve, sniffing and clearing his throat again. He turned off the shower and slowly made his way to the top of the stairs, where he was knocked off of his feet but caught before he hit the ground.
He looked up at the face of Derek, who looked extremely concerned. "Stiles, what's going on? Scott called me and told me that... but he sounded drunk, he was just talking crazy right?" Stiles just looked at him, feeling the bite start to burn even more. "RIGHT, STILES?!" Another tear trailed down his cheek as Derek dragged him into his room, laying him down on the bed. He rolled up both of Stiles' sleeves and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the bandage, soaked with a mixture of black and red. "Stiles... WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING? ARE YOU CRAZY-" but he stopped. Stiles was shaking his head, giving Derek the most heartbreaking smile he had ever seen. "I'm crazy about you..."
Derek shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "You... you did this so you could be with me didn't you? So I wouldn't have to live without you?" Stiles, still smiling, let out a sob and nodded. Derek sat down on the bed next to him, pulling Stiles into his chest, resting his forehead on Stiles'. "I can't... Stiles, I can't lose you like I lost..." Stiles suddenly remembered what had happened when Derek was younger, how he had lost Paige, how it had scarred him and ruined his life. The smile faded, he started to sob, his body shaking and cold against Derek's. Derek was crying too, but he continued to soothe Stiles by rubbing his back and shushing him.
Between sobs and breaths, Stiles managed to get out, "It was-it was for you Derek, and I'm-I'm so sorry, please..." but he couldn't finish. The pain in his arm had spread, his chest and his other arm felt like they were no longer connected to him. He had stopped shaking; the pain was too unbearable. Tears still poured down his face; his breathing was slow and labored. Derek could feel him slipping, he was trying to be strong but eventually he would be gone. "Stiles... I love you. And I'm sorry. And... I forgive you." Stiles pressed his head against Derek's chest, trying to take a deep shaky breath. "Everything... everything hurts Derek. I want it to stop." Derek rested a hand on Stiles' chest, started to absorb some of his pain, but Stiles stopped him.
"No, please. Don't." Derek nodded in understanding, it would only make things longer and more unbearable. He had already lost so much; his family, his pack. He wasn't going to be able to deal with losing his mate, his TRUE mate. It was almost as if Stiles could sense that, because he said, "No, you have to be strong. Please, do it for me, I need you to be strong Derek." Derek whimpered, clutching onto the back of Stiles' shirt. They were both covered in dark red liquid and tears, but it didn't matter. They were together, Stiles had the reassuring warmth emanating from Derek's body. In the middle of a breath, he found he couldn't breathe in anymore.
He coughed, black liquid flowing forward. He started to cry again, feeling the power of the bite taking hold of his heart, his lungs, his brain. Derek could sense it too; Stile's heartbeat was sporadic and slow, his breathing almost nonexistent. He shook his head, not even believing this was happening. He was having some sort of dream, the full moon sometimes caused him to have weird dreams. Then Stiles reached out, wrapped his hand around Derek's and gently squeezed, and he knew he wasn't dreaming. "Dammit Stiles..." he whispered, trying to remain composed for Stiles' sake.
The gentle grip on Derek's hand released, and his breath caught in his throat. Stiles' head slumped against his shoulder and he closed his eyes, feeling the hot tears sting his face as they traveled downward and landed in Stiles' hair. He wrapped his arms around Stiles' unmoving body, letting himself go and sobbing freely, openly, letting go of emotions that he had kept bottled up for as long as he could remember. He could feel himself shaking, felt as if he was going to be sick. His own nails dug into his wrist, but instead of anger he was met with hysterical sorrow and sudden depression. He didn't know for how long he held onto Stiles, only that eventually there were gentle hands untangling him, wrapping around him, bringing him close as he cried.
Allison sat on the bed, shocked and weeping, her hands over her mouth. Scott stood in the doorway, still drunk and disoriented, not quite grasping what had happened. Derek concluded that the body pressed against his was Cora's. She was all he had left. The four didn't move for a long time; eventually Allison found a box of tissues and started to try to clean herself up, only upsetting herself more in the process. She pushed the tissues away, holding in another sob. Derek pushed away from Cora, eyes puffy and red from crying. She gave him a sympathetic smile but he could tell that she, too, had been crying. Scott was sitting on the floor, looking at the ground. Allison stood him up and walked him back downstairs. They would all have to talk about what had happened. Cora took Derek by the hand, but he didn't want to leave the room. He just wanted to leave the world.