The world goes back to its normal pace, maybe even faster than usual. You don't care.
You scream his name and fall to the ground next to him, already assessing the damage. You know better than anyone he's survived a lot. He's been stabbed, shot, electrocuted, and drowned. He even survived when you, possessed by the Nogitsune, twisted a sword through him. But he's never survived anything like this. You hear snarls and the sound of gunshots from above, telling you that Derek, Peter, Malia, and Braeden have joined the fight. After that, everything fades away, except the sound of Scott's labored breathing and groans of pain.
"Scott? Scotty, keep your eyes open," you beg. "We'll get you to Deaton… you're gonna be okay."
He laughs breathlessly. "I think we both know that's not going to be the case."
You feel the beginning of a panic attack. Not now, you plead. Please, God, not now.
"Just let me try to get it out," you tell him. He doesn't have the strength to argue. You grab the arrow, and when you attempt to pull it out, he screams loudly. The sound sends such a stab of pain through you, you have to check to make sure the arrow isn't going through your own heart.
You stop, and shakily remove your hand from the arrow, and instead grab his hand. You begin cursing yourself. Why couldn't you have moved fast enough to dodge the arrow? Why weren't you paying attention? You should have been the one to be hit by the arrow. You should have-
"You're already blaming yourself, aren't you?" Scott's voice breaks you from your thoughts. You look at him. "Thought so. It isn't your fault, Stiles."
"You said that about Allison's death," you tell him, wincing at the memory.
"That wasn't your fault, either. It was the Nogitsune." There couldn't be more sincerity in his voice.
"Who's fault was this then?" You cry out, your voice breaking. You feel the stinging of tears in your eyes.
"Mine."
"Jesus, Scott, how the hell could this be your fault?"
He shrugs, then winces. "Well, I was the one who jumped in the way of the arrow. Also, I was the one that said we should we should walk."
You open your mouth to reply, about to say those were terrible reasons, but your mind goes blank when he yells in pain again. In that moment, you would have do anything to become a werewolf, just to take away his pain. After all, you should be the one feeling it.
Your face is mysteriously wet, and you realize you're crying. You furiously wipe your tears away.
"Stiles."
You look into his eyes, which you have always teased him looked like a puppy's eyes. They are slightly glazed.
"You okay?" He asks.
In spite of yourself, you have to laugh. "Am I okay? Seriously?" You sputter. But you know that even dying, Scott is more concerned for his friends than himself. It's just who he is.
"Are you?"
You nod, unable to speak.
He closes his eyes and laughs again. "Y'know, I never got to watch Star Wars."
"What? I thought I told Kira you were required to watch it!"
He opens his eyes again and looks at you. "Yeah, well, there was the whole thing with the Berserkers and Kate taking Kira and I to Mexico."
You can't think of anything else to say. You then realize that the fighting has stopped. You look up and see Derek is walking towards the two of you. He bends down, and lightly touches Scott's arm, and you watch as the beta's veins turn black, taking away Scott's pain.
"Do you remember the Glen Capri?" Scott asks. You nod.
"How could I forget?"
"You told me I was your brother. And I never got to tell you..." He takes a gasping breath. "You're my brother, and I love you."
You want more than anything to reply. But you can't form the words or open your mouth.
"Hey, Stiles." You look at him one more time. He looks so tired. "Breathe."
And in that moment, when he closes his eyes, you know he's dead.
You vaguely register Lydia hugging you and crying, but you don't move or speak. Kira is standing a few yards away, katana hanging from her hand and silent tears running down her face. Peter, Malia, and Braeden are out of sight, and Derek is doing the same thing you are- sitting silently and unmoving.
You hear in the distance, and coming closer, an extremely familiar sound- police sirens. Your father is coming.
The sirens reach an ear-deafening volume, then become quiet. You hear doors opening and slamming shut. "Oh God," your father says. God? He's got nothing to do with this, you think. The officers run to the silent group. You know only two police officers, your father and Deputy Parrish, will understand what has really happened. Thankfully, they are the only officers there.
Your father picks you up, and your hand is removed from Scott's. The sheriff hugs you, and you realize he's crying. Crying for a boy that he considered a son. You still are unable to move, and you don't try. Parrish helps Lydia to her feet. Your father is talking to you, you can see his mouth moving, but you can't hear a word he's saying.
You father grabs your shoulders and starts leading you to his car. You suddenly realize that he's taking you away from Scott. You scream and try to fight away, but an exhausted, and frankly already weak, teenager is not hard to control. Your father once again grabs you and murmurs words into your ear. Words like It's okay. Words that are lies, and you both know it. You stop struggling and take shuddering breaths. You go into the car, and a few seconds later you are joined by a shaking Lydia. Your father goes back to the area and begins talking to Kira and Derek. After that, many things begin fading away. Except for a few selective senses.