After several minutes, Stiles realized he needed to get back off of the bathroom floor and get ready to face his best friend. Whether he liked it or not, Derek was right. Scott was going to come to Stiles' home invited or not. Stiles certainly didn't want his best friend to see him on the bathroom floor like this.

Stiles pulled himself from Derek's arms. He stood shakily and collected his phone from the counter. He looked back at Derek before he led the silent werewolf down the stairs. He needed time to think about what Derek wanted from Stiles. He needed to consider his options. There was no way he would just tell Derek to bite him and hope for the best. Stiles needed to be sure there was no alternative option. But did Stiles really want to keep trying? He had already spent eight years of his life trapped and bubble wrapped. Did he really want to spend the last few months of his life moving from hospital to hospital?

Did he want to spend the rest of his life being controlled by the moon and the wolf inside of him?

As he stepped into the living room, he heard the familiar sounds of Scott's mom's car pulling up. He looked at Derek, his fear written clearly on his face. Derek pulled him in for a quick hug before he pushed the boy gently towards the couch.

"I'll answer it," he said as he walked towards the front door. Stiles was thankful that he didn't have to open the door. He sat down carefully in the middle of the couch, his usual spot when watching tv with his dad. He wondered how many games he would see with his dad before he died. No, Stiles told himself. He wasn't going to spend his the last few months of his life thinking about what he wasn't going to be able to do. He needed to focus on what he can do. He would need to focus on the positive things.

The doorbell rang. The doorbell freaking rang! The guy who he considered his brother rang the doorbell. Stiles wasn't even sure that before this that Scott knew where the doorbell was. Stiles shook his head and bit the smile back. He listened as Derek opened the door and greeted Scott. Scott's voice carried into the living room.

"Where is he?" Scott asked. Stiles heard Derek mumble something before Scott came around the corner. His best friend looked like he had been slapped across the face as his nostrils flared. He looked Stiles up and down before shaking his head in disbelief. Stiles held his breath as he waited for his best friend's reaction.

"No, Stiles," Scott whispered as he stepped farther into the living room. Derek stood just behind him. Stiles met Derek's eyes. His eyes seemed calm and comforting. Stiles released the breath he was holding and focused back on Scott.

Scott took a step forward, his hand reaching out towards his best friend. It paused before curling into a fist and falling to his side. Stiles just stared at the fist. He couldn't look at Scott's eyes. He couldn't. He sat on the couch, his own hands set trembling in his lap. There was no way Scott didn't know. Stiles felt grateful for the wolfy sense of smell as he didn't have to say the words.

Scott kneeled in front of Stiles and touched his knee. He just kneeled there and didn't say a word. When Stiles finally looked up, he saw his friend's tears running down his cheeks. His own face mirrored his best friend's as they sat there.

Scott didn't look mad. He looked shocked and defeated. The only other time Stiles had ever seen that face was when the young werewolf held the flare over his gasoline covered body. Stiles had sworn to never make Scott feel that way again. And here he was, causing his best friend's pain.

Derek's hand appeared onto Scott's shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. The younger werewolf didn't shake it off. He actually seemed to lean in towards it. Stiles couldn't look at Derek. Derek understood. He knew what was going on in Stiles' mind. Stiles couldn't think of anything to say. He just sat there crying with his best friend for several minutes.

After the sobs began, Stiles took a deep breath. He needed to be strong. He needed to show Scott that he would be okay. "Scott," Stiles didn't recognize his own broken voice. His best friend moved so that he held onto Stiles' hand as if it were the most fragile thing in the world. His best friend just stared at where they were connected. Stiles held onto his friend's hand as tight as he could.

"I'm so sorry, Scott."

Stiles watched as his best friend shook his head defiantly. He yelped as Scott pulled him into a tight hug. "No," the young werewolf kept whispering over and over. "Not you, Stiles."

Stiles felt his whole body trembling and shaking in his best friend's arms. It wasn't long before he noticed they were alone in the room. Derek had left them some privacy. Stiles was grateful once again that it was Derek that had found him and took care of him today. The werewolf was full of surprises.

Scott moved so he could sit next to Stiles. He didn't say anything, just stared at the coffee table. His blank face worried Stiles.

"Scott, please…just say something," Stiles whispered. Scott lifted his head to look at him. His eyes were still watery, but the tears had slowed down considerably.

Scott took a few calming breaths before he spoke, "This is why you weren't in school?"

Stiles nodded. Here came all of the questions. He knew Scott needed this so he just sat there waiting for each one.

"And Derek knows?"

"He found me. I was panicking and he took care of me."

Scott's eyebrows rose in surprise. His eyes flashed towards the kitchen where Derek was no doubt lurking. Stiles stared into the kitchen. The place where Derek had made him soup and forced him to eat it and take his pill. Okay, so there wasn't any real force, but it's Derek.

Scott turned back towards Stiles. "When did you…?"

"Eight years now. I was diagnosed eight years ago."

"But I never smelt it until I walked in the door just now. Your house has never smelled like this before," Scott stated as if that alone would make the problem go away.

Stiles shook his head. "I was in remission around the time you were bitten." He took a moment to gather his thoughts before he sat on his hands. The damn things wouldn't stop trembling. "I was taking pills but it came back."

Scott shook his head. "There's no way! I've never seen you take pills for this, only for ADHD!"

Stiles nodded slowly. "I was taking them regularly, but I…ran out of them. When waiting for the refill, the cancer grew back rapidly."

Scott leapt off of the couch and began to pace the living room. He looked like he wanted to hit something or someone. He turned to look at Stiles, but he couldn't say anything. He just resumed his pacing before he pulled his phone from his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked.

Scott didn't look up. He just kept going through his phone. "My mom would know what to do. If we can't fix this through medicine, Deaton will know. We have to get someone." He moved towards Stiles and kneeled in front of him again. "I'm going to fix this. You aren't going to die. I can't let you die."

Stiles bit back his tears again and shook his head. "Scott, I just spent 8 years of my life going from hospital to hospital, doctor to doctor, and dealt with radiation and chemotherapy. I'm not going to sit here and have you and Deaton try every kind of magical cure-all on me," he stated as calmly and unwavering as he could.

"I don't want to die like my mom in a hospital bed tied up to tubes and wires," Stiles whispered. He felt the werewolf's presence before he saw it. Derek had come back into the room and was already pulling Stiles against his chest.

"I don't want to die," Stiles whispered as he broke down against his werewolf. His best friend looked more horrified at what Stiles said rather than Stiles being cuddled by Derek Hale.

Scott reached over and held on tight to Stiles' hands. "I can't do nothing. I'm an Alpha now. You could become a werewolf." Derek's hold on Stiles tightened as if to say that was his vote.

Stiles sobbed and shook his head. "I know, but I can't do this all to my dad. He doesn't know. He can't know. It's dangerous. He'll break."

Derek moved Stiles' face to against his neck and pulled him farther onto his lap. Between the two werewolves offering him comfort and his sobbing, Stiles hadn't noticed his dad standing in the hallway.

He hadn't noticed how Derek's eyes turned red as they locked eyes with the sheriff. He didn't notice the way the sheriff's eyes watered before he bit back the tears and walked into the dining room. The only thing Stiles focused on was the safety and comfort Derek was providing him.