Chapter 2

"But you can't get away from yourself. You can't decide not to see yourself anymore. You can't decide to turn off the noise in your head."

— Jay Asher

"Dude, you look terrible. Are you still not sleeping?"

"I'm fine," Stiles said trying to shrug off Scott's concern. He didn't think he'd be able to take any more of Scott's pathetic puppy eyes that were directed towards Stiles every time they were together as of late.

"I just want to make sure you're okay man," Scott insisted trying to make eye contact while following him down the hallway.

"Yeah, dude, I'm good," Stiles reiterated stopping at his locker. "Hey, where's Derek been lately?"

He was aiming for distraction. It seemed to be the only way to get Scott to lay off him. Scott was always pretty easy to distract. It's not like he was concerned over the fact that he hadn't seen Derek since that night in his bedroom a week and a half ago. Or that he desperately craved that feeling of being safe that Derek had given him since he hadn't had a good night's sleep since then. Definitely not.

"I don't know, man," Scott shrugged. "It's Derek. He's always disappearing without a word. Anyway, I gotta get to class. I'll see you later. And, seriously, make sure you get some rest."

Scott clapped him on the shoulder before walking off leaving Stiles staring after him. God, he was tired. He just wanted to go home, but he couldn't really afford to skip class with how much he had missed. Heaving a sigh, he trudged off to his next class.

xxx

He screamed, his heart pounding as he tried to fight for control. The nogitsune had taken over again. He had his father and was preparing to kill him, relishing Stiles screams to let him go. The blade had just pierced his father's chest when a voice came through the haze.

"Stiles? Stiles, wake up!"

Then there were hands wrapping around his shoulders, shaking him gently until his eyes shot open. He gasped for air as the strong arms wrapped themselves further around him. He buried his face in the chest in front of him, clutching at the material of their shirt as tears leaked out of his eyes. He stayed like that for what seemed like hours catching his breath and trying to slow his racing heart.

"Stiles, are you with me?" the voice said after what, in reality, had only been a few minutes.

Now that the initial fear from the nightmare had faded, Stiles recognized the gentle voice and the broad chest and the warm arms. It was his father. He was being hugged by the man he had almost killed in his dream just minutes ago; the only family he had left. As Stiles made this realization, Derek began to pull away concerned with Stiles' silence.

"Don't go," Stiles whispered desperately, tightening his grasp on his father's shirt. He had to be sure his father was real. That his dream had been just that, a dream.

"I'm not going anywhere," the Sheriff reassured gently.

xxx

Stiles was walking to school the next morning when he felt a hand grab his hoodie. He hadn't driven the Jeep since the night they'd defeated the nogitsune; he wasn't sure he trusted himself behind the wheel of a car anymore, so he mostly walked places now. He body was jerked back so suddenly he almost landed on his ass, but then he was being shoved against the nearest tree, a dangerous-looking Ethan keeping him in place.

"Scott should have let us kill you!" Ethan roared, eyes flashing an icy blue. "It's your fault Aiden's dead. You killed my brother!"

Stiles simply stared as Ethan continued screaming in his face. He stopped hearing the words, just watched the rage and pain that played across Ethan's face and knew that he was responsible. He deserved whatever happened to him. Vaguely he realized Ethan had raised a clawed hand in the air, ready to strike. He closed his eyes.

xxx

"What the hell l was that?"

Stiles opened his eyes. Derek was standing over what appeared to be an unconscious Ethan, his piercing gaze never leaving Stiles as he took in the scene. Derek must have stopped Ethan. But where had Derek come from? How much time had he lost?

"Nothing," Stiles finally managed, trying to convey nonchalance. He took a quick breath in before turning to continue his journey to school.

"Nothing?" Derek growled grabbing Stiles' shoulder and spinning him back around. "That was not nothing. You didn't even fucking try to defend yourself. I've taught you how to get out of a pinned position. And you didn't even flinch when I got here; it's like you weren't aware of your surroundings. So I'll ask again; what the hell was that?"

"Nothing," Stiles repeated wrenched his shoulder out of Derek's grasp. "He's practically part of the pack, and I killed his brother, so he has a fucking right to be upset about it. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to be late for school."

And with that, he stormed off not bothering to look back to gauge Derek's reaction.

"Guilt isn't always a rational thing, Clio realized. Guilt is a weight that will crush you whether you deserve it or not."

Maureen Johnson, Girl at Sea