Stop, stop it… Stiles cried, he's back against he's bedroom wall. Shaking his head before lightly bouncing it against the wall behind him. Shut up. He wept again, holding his head in his hand. Replaying his dream over and over again.
Stiles dream:
"You killed her Stiles!" sheriff Stilinski roared, throwing his glass full of scotch against the wall behind him. "Da…Dad" Stiles wept, biting back the pain in his chest. Stiles dad kept screaming and blaming him for mom and everything that's happened. This is not real… Wake up Stiles, wake up! Wake up Stiles, wake up! He kept whispering. "You ungrateful brat! I was left to look after you! You drive me to drink!" No, Stiles told himself, your dreaming. This is not real.
Someone came rushing through the door. It was Scott.
"Stiles, are you ok?" He breathed, bending down beside him. Lightly squeezing his arm in a supportive way.
"No… Im not ok, im losing my m i n d. Im… I feel like im… fading away."
"Stiles?..." Scott asked in a pleading way, but Stiles eyes were already shutting. He's breathing slowing down, and his heart giving its last few beats before…
Silence
He woke up with a scream, before calming down and staring at his blank ceiling. Something is wrong with me. Big time.