Chapter Seven: When It Rains
The next morning, Melissa woke up with a huge hangover. She could hear someone moving around downstairs, and as she found the note Chris had left for her, she figured it was Stiles. She groaned, wondering what had happened last night. She didn't remember anything past Chris dropping her off at the house. She knew he had to have helped her upstairs, there was no way she'd have made it to the bed without him. Melissa moved to sit up, and wondered if they had some eggs, it was her hangover food of choice.
Grabbing a robe, she pulled it on and went out into the hall. She poked her head in Scott and Stiles' open bedroom door, and Scott was sleeping. And the blanket was half off, after she'd recovered from seeing more of her son than she wanted to, she went and tugged the blanket up enough so that he wasn't hanging brain, as they used to say in her day. Melissa noted that there were clothes on the floor, and she told herself that she wasn't going to pick them up, no matter how much she might want to. Taking one last look at her son sleeping, peacefully, with his thumb in his mouth, she left the room, and headed down the stairs.
When she found Stiles in the kitchen, cooking eggs, she could have kissed him. He was learning so many things about her. Melissa moved to the coffee maker, and she was glad to see it was done percolating. "Morning, kiddo." She said, watching as Stiles added some cheese to the eggs in the pan. She didn't know what she was going to do if he knew that Chris had been with her the night before. Melissa honestly couldn't remember what had happened. It had been a long time since she'd gotten blackout drunk, and she knew it was what Scott had to deal with that was the reason.
"Morning, Ma." Stiles said, he knew she'd have a hangover, and he knew what her hangover food was. He got out some bacon and added that to the other pan. He wondered how much she remembered from the night before, and he didn't know if he wanted to talk to her about Chris. Although, he knew that she didn't know that he knew about that already. Stiles cleared his throat. "So, Ma, are we going to talk about the fact that Argent was with you when he dropped you off last night?"
Stiles didn't know how to be anything but direct. He was like that with everyone. Stiles stirred the eggs with the spatula, and checked on the bacon while he waited for her to reply. He didn't know what he was going to say if she actually confirmed that Chris had been with her. Stiles didn't wait for her to reply, he decided to ask her if it had been a date or not, even if he knew it had been. "Was it a date?" Stiles asked curiously, watching her face as she put the creamer in her coffee, heaving a sigh.
"I know that he was here, Ma. Don't try to deny it."
Melissa sighed again. She didn't know what she was going to say. It's not as if she wanted to tell the truth. They had wanted to keep it to themselves as long as possible. She sighed again and said, "Yes, Stiles, it was a date. You know that if you saw me with him it was." Melissa didn't know what else to say about it. It's something she hadn't thought that she would have to deal with for awhile. "Does Scott know?" Melissa hated that she had to ask that, but she knew that she didn't remember and possibly might not remember. "Because if he doesn't, I would really appreciate it if you didn't tell him. You know that I don't want you to lie to him, but that doesn't mean that you'd be doing that. You would just not be telling him something that he wouldn't know to ask about."
Boy, she was going to be Mom of the year, she told herself sarcastically.
"Yes, he knows. But Allison came over here before she and Lydia left for UCLA to let us know. We've known pretty much all summer." Stiles said, and a small part of him felt a little bit good at seeing the shock on her face. Stiles stirred the eggs and flipped the bacon over. He didn't know what to say to her about the situation, and he wasn't sure what she was going to say in return. It was something that he knew she hadn't been planning on telling them yet. "Ma, it's not that we don't like Chris. You know that's not it. He's been a good friend to all of us. But Scotty and I are concerned that it's too soon after his wife died."
That was hard for him to say, but he was glad that he had said it. She seemed to actually be listening to him. Stiles brushed his hand on his scruffy chin. "I'm sorry that you had to hear it like this. But I mean it. And so does Scott. We're concerned about you getting hurt. He's still on the rebound, you're the first person that he's dated since Mrs. Argent died." Stiles took out some plates and put some eggs and bacon on them, and they both went to the table. Stiles got himself a cup of coffee and then went to the table. "Just, at least think about our concern, okay? You were so drunk last night that he had to practically carry you up the stairs. You were as drunk as I've ever seen you." Stiles didn't know what else to say. It's not something that he'd expected to have to talk about this early in the day, it was only ten o'clock.
Before Melissa could answer, Scott came into the room, moving slowly. His bandanna was already on his head, and he was wearing a pair of Stiles' sweats and his Snuggie was wrapped around him as well. Scott could tell that they'd been talking about something serious by the tone in the room. Scott held up a hand when Stiles moved to jump up and get him a plate. Scott could handle it on his own. He moved to get the last plate on the counter and put a small amount of eggs on it and some bacon, and then joined them at the table. "So, what were you guys talking about?" Scott asked, looking at both of them as he spoke.
When no one offered up the truth, Scott salted his eggs. "Ma, if this is about you dating Argent, I already know. Allison told us." He didn't know what she was going to say about it, whether she was going to admit it or not. "Because Ma, if you really want to know what we think, we're worried about you getting hurt. I don't object to it being Argent if that's what you want. You deserve to be happy as much as we do. And I know that it's hard to be that right now, what with all that is going on… with me." He paused, his breath faltering a bit, causing his husband and mother to look at him in surprise. Scott finally continued. "It's not going to get any better, and we know it. At least, not anytime soon."
He knew that they didn't want to hear that, but Scott didn't want to keep his head in the sand if he didn't have to. "You know that I'm not going to deny how serious that my illness is." Scott said, taking a sip of Stiles' coffee.
Melissa had to gather herself before she spoke. It was still hard for her to see Scott going through this. It was too much. "Scott…" She started, not sure what she was going to say. Her voice was faltering, and she knew that she was going to start crying if she didn't get a handle on herself. "Okay, first of all, I can't handle the idea of you being so comfortable with dying." Melissa said, taking a deep breath and then a sip of her coffee. She didn't know what to say to get him to think that he could beat this. She knew that he was fighting the cancer, but if he was still thinking that she wasn't sure that she wanted him to have that mentality.
"Scott, you are sweet to be concerned about me. I know that I raised a good son, since you are so concerned. But I can take care of myself. I promise, even if Chris is doing this on the rebound, I can handle it. You and Stiles have enough to worry about without worrying about me. You hear me? You focus on getting better. You can do this, if you fight. I know that you think you're not going to make it, but I know that you can. I know how hard it's going to be. But they can get that tumor shrunk and remove it, I know they can." Her voice faltered a bit. She didn't know what she was going to do if she lost Scott. And she knew that part of fighting things like this was part of the attitude you had about it.
Scott reached out and touched her hand. "Ma, I know that you think that. And I promise, I'm not going to stop fighting. But I know that I'm not looking at good odds. I know that. I'm not going to let that stop me from being a realist. I know how this is going to turn out. I know that you don't want me to think that way. And Ma, you know that I can't help it. I don't want to put my head in the sand." Scott took another sip of Stiles' coffee, who got up to get him his own cup. Scott didn't know how to be positive about this, when they couldn't even operate yet because the tumor was still too big. It was scary, but Scott had to be real about it.
"I just can't have the blind faith that you do. And I want you to promise me that you're going to at least keep our concerns in mind. I can't not worry about you. You're my mom. You have always done the best you could by me, and I know that you'll keep doing that. You're my mom, Ma, and it's time for me to be there for you. You need to just let me worry. I know that I don't need more to worry about, but that doesn't mean that I'm not going to. You are the only mom I've got." This is when Scott's voice faltered, he had a lump in his throat.
Stiles came back in with his husband's coffee. "Scott, we've got a chemo appointment in a couple of hours, okay? I know I told you but you may not have remembered." Scott couldn't always with all the meds he was on. He didn't mind being the one to remind him, he didn't mind taking care of Scott. Stiles didn't know if he could handle any more talk about Scott's illness and condition. He knew that changing the subject to chemo wasn't really doing that, but he knew that Scott would go with the subject change. Stiles didn't take his eyes off his husband, who was reaching for his coffee mug to take a sip. Stiles knew exactly how he liked his coffee.
He listened to his family talk, and Stiles wasn't even sure he could tell you what they were talking about. Stiles wondered if he should tell Melissa how much his dad liked her. Stiles didn't have to have Noah say it out loud to know that he knew his dad was into her. Stiles really thought that Noah would be better for her than Argent. He'd already gone through his mourning period for Claudia. And honestly, he knew it was better than Noah hooking up with Natalie Martin, Lydia's mom. Not that he didn't like Natalie. He did. She was a nice woman. But he didn't think that Noah and Natalie would work out in the end.
It took at least an hour to get Scott ready for the chemo appointment, he wanted to be clean, and he refused to let Stiles help him in the shower and getting dressed. Stiles waited patiently for him in the bedroom, listening for Scott in case he called out for Stiles to help. Although Scott could be very stubborn, and he knew that he wasn't going to call out for help. Stiles sat on the bed and thumbed through a comic book, and Scott came out thirty minutes after he'd gone in, and then spent the next thirty getting dressed. Some of that was deciding what to wear.
"You ready?" Stiles asked, as Scott finished buttoning his shirt. He didn't tend to wear nice clothes to the chemo, because he knew that he was going to spend some time throwing up afterwards. Sometimes they had to stay in the hospital a little longer than planned because he needed to be near a bucket or toilet for awhile. Stiles usually didn't want to drive them home until he was sure that Scott would make it home in Roscoe without throwing up. Once they were in the house, fine, but he didn't want to have to clean out the Jeep. He wouldn't be mad if that's what had to happen, it's not like Scott could really help it.
"Yeah. Just need my shoes." Scott said, slipping his feet carefully into a pair of loafers, which he could easily get on and would keep his feet from getting puke on them unlike sandals. Scott had to hold onto Stiles' shoulder while he did that. He didn't know what he was going to do, it was just too much to consider. Scott reached and slid his arm through Stiles', he knew that he'd never make it down the stairs without him. Scott let Stiles lead him out of the room and down the stairs, moving slowly. He couldn't move as well under his own steam.
They had to stop briefly by the front door long enough for Scott to catch his breath, there were stairs on the porch to walk down to get to Stiles' Jeep. Scott was glad they'd gotten started so early, since it took forever to get anywhere now. Scott hated that, and he knew that he was going to have to get out some of his frustrations with that somehow. He moved with Stiles down the porch steps and gave Stiles a look that clearly said that he was going to climb up into the Jeep himself. Stiles watched him as he got in though, and Scott knew he had to be okay with that.
Once he was settled and buckled, Stiles started up the Jeep. He flipped on the radio, Scott couldn't be in the car without the radio on. Stiles pulled out carefully, he didn't want Scott's breakfast to come up. Stiles didn't know what Scott was thinking, and that scared him a little bit. He didn't know if Scott would tell him if he asked. He knew that as much as Scott said he would tell him how he really felt, Stiles knew that that might not be the case. He watched Scott as they came to a stop at a stop light. Scott was being more quiet than he usually was. Scott was shy when it came to meeting new people, he wasn't usually like that with Stiles. "Scott, are you okay? I know that you might be worried about Melissa. And I know that even though you said you'd tell me how you really felt, that you might not."
It was hard for Stiles to ask that, he didn't know if he really wanted to know what Scott was thinking about. Stiles knew that Scott was being a realist about all of this, and honestly, that was scaring the hell out of him. Stiles also knew that he couldn't fault Scott for anything that he felt, because HE was the one going through this. Stiles knew that his own feelings were valid, but Scott was the one it was actually happening to so his got to be more important. "I know that I can't make you tell me, but I would really like to know if you're okay. It's been so stressful lately and we haven't really been talking about things." Stiles had almost said "our issues" but they weren't having relationship problems. They never really had had relationship problems.
When Stiles asked him if he was okay, Scott didn't answer right away. He knew that Stiles didn't want to hear how he was. Scott brushed his hand over his ballcap, he didn't like to wear a bandanna to the chemo, he preferred to wear a ballcap. He didn't really know why. Scott looked out the window, wondering what he could say to Stiles that would ease his worries. Scott didn't want to worry Stiles if he didn't have to. Scott didn't want to tell Stiles that he was ready to go if it was his time. He knew that he'd already told him that, but he didn't want to remind him that he had said it.
"I'm okay, Stiles." Scott said, even if it wasn't really true. He was nervous as always about chemo, and it was making him queasy. Scott brushed his hand through his black hair. He didn't want to speak up about how he was really feeling. It was always a bad day when it was chemo day, he was always having to hide how he really felt from his husband. Scott sighed and looked out the window. He knew that Stiles just wasn't ready to talk about anything that Scott felt. He understood that though, it was a hard thing they were dealing with. Scott brushed his fingers over his dark skin, with it being summer his naturally dark skin had gotten a bit darker with the time he'd spent outdoors. Even if it wasn't a lot, he had to avoid getting sick.
Scoffing, Stiles pulled up at a stop light. "I don't believe that for a second. First of all, you know I notice on chemo days when you're off. You get nervous, and that's okay. You don't have to hide that from me. I've known you my entire life and I know when you're not feeling well." Stiles didn't know what he was going to do if Scott actually left him. Stiles wasn't letting himself think about that. He didn't know that he could handle even the thought about it. Stiles knew that that was most likely the issue, Scott wasn't as worried about Melissa as he was about chemo.
He turned left and the hospital was coming up on the left. He pulled in, heading straight to the employee parking lot. Everyone knew he was Melissa's son in law and no one stopped him from parking there. Stiles stilled his hands as he turned the car off, his eyes on his lap. He didn't know how to say what he wanted to say, and he didn't want to make Scott's anxiety worse. "You don't have to feel anything that you don't want to, I know that. I can't make you believe that you're going to make it through this, no matter what the odds say. I know that you're going to be fine. I have to believe that."
Taking a deep breath, he turned to face Scott. "We only have a couple of minutes. I'm honestly not trying to to make you even more anxious. I just…. I know that you said you were going to tell me how you really feel, but I also know you. You still have that Captain America mentality where you're trying to avoid hurting me. You can't worry about hurting me. I love that you are, but I don't want you to not tell me things. How can I take care of you if you don't tell me what's going on?" Tears were brushing his eyes, and Stiles cleared his throat.
"Please, baby, you have to promise me that you're going to tell me the big stuff."
Sighing too, Scott reached out and stroked some tears off Stiles' face. "I'm sorry, Stiles, if you think I haven't told you things." It was true, but not as true as Stiles thought it was. Scott mostly wasn't able to focus on what he really felt, and he couldn't put a lot of it into words, especially to Stiles, whom Scott knew wasn't being completely realistic about this. "I know that you want me to make it. I know that. I'm not saying I'm not going to fight. Because you know that I can't bear the idea of you and Ma losing me." Scott sniffled. He had to admit, he wasn't really dealing with the Rafe feelings he still had. He knew that his father wouldn't have been sorry that Scott was ill, and that was messing him up almost as much as the fact that his father had killed himself.
He didn't have to be on trial for anything that he had done. Lots of people were going to think that he was innocent and Scott was lying. Not that he could really do much about that. He didn't know what he was going to do as far as people believing him. Scott supposed that he didn't really care if people did or not, because he knew that it was the truth. Scott brushed some more tears off Stiles' face. "I know that you're wanting to do the best that you can by me. I know that. But you know I can't…." Scott sniffled, starting to cry himself. He didn't know how he could tell Stiles that he was prepared for death. Scott knew how hard it was going to be for Stiles to hear that.
"I can't tell you what I feel about things when you need to believe I'm going to make it. I know that you need to feel that way, and I understand why. I'm trying not to ruin that viewpoint, baby."
Stiles reached for the keys and stuck them in his pocket, moving to get out of the car. They still had to make it inside to a wheelchair. Stiles moved around and helped Scott down from the Jeep, even if he knew that Scott wanted to move under his own steam. Sometimes you just had to be disappointed. No one could get their way all the time. Not that Scott was ever one of those whiny people who complained a lot when he didn't get his way. Scott wasn't generally a whiny person. Stiles tugged Scott closer to him, ignoring Scott's protestations that he could walk under his own steam.
"You have to be honest with me Scott. I can't take care of you if I don't know everything. Don't worry about my viewpoint. You have to tell me what's really going on, baby. I need you to do that. I promise you that no matter what, I'm always going to have faith that you can make it through this, regardless of how you feel. I know how you feel. But you need to feel whatever way you feel. You're fighting this horrible fight, you have the right." Stiles managed to get them in the door, going straight for a wheelchair, knowing Scott couldn't complain because it was hospital policy that patients ride in a wheelchair.
Almost as soon as they got inside, Scott was whisked off by a nurse. Stiles watched him go, tears filling his brown eyes. Stiles moved to sit down in the waiting room, he couldn't go back with Scott. It pained him every time to see Scott wheeled off into chemo and Stiles knowing that he had to trust the nurses and doctors to take care of Scott. Stiles wasn't so good at that, trusting other people to keep Scott safe. He settled in a seat, pulling out the novel he'd brought with him, to keep him occupied. As he was opening it up, he caught the eye of Deaton. "Deaton? What are you doing here?" Stiles asked, honestly, Deaton didn't look happy.
Deaton's eyes fell on Stiles'. He knew that Stiles wasn't going to want to hear what he had to say. He cleared his throat before he spoke. "Um, Stiles…. There was an accident." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he saw Stiles deflate. He didn't want to be the one to have to say this. "Stiles, your dad…. He was in a car accident. I happened to be a witness, that's why I'm here." Deaton watched as Stiles' chin started to wobble with disbelief. Deaton hated to be the one to put that look on his face. He knew that they were already here for Scott's chemo, this was a hard enough time for him. Deaton knew that he couldn't be in that boy's shoes. Deaton knew that Stiles was one of the strongest people he'd ever met, and Stiles was still just an eighteen year old kid.
Reaching out, he touched Stiles' shoulder. "Stiles, your father's in surgery." Deaton knew that much because he'd seen them wheel him off into surgery as soon as they'd gotten him there. Deaton didn't know that he could let on to Stiles how serious it had looked. Deaton couldn't be the one to lower that bomb on him. "You just have to know that he's a fighter. You know he'll be fine." Deaton did believe that, but he also knew how dose it was going to come. Deaton looked at Stiles, who seemed to be shell shocked. Deaton waited for Stiles to speak, he didn't want to upset him further, especially if he really was in shock.
It hurt more than Stiles could say when he heard those words. He knew that with Noah being a cop, he hadn't really expected anything to happen to his dad. His dad was so larger than life. Stiles couldn't even remember a time where his father wasn't there, being a constant in Stiles' life. Stiles couldn't be losing another parent. Not his dad. Stiles knew that he needed his father more than he would usually let on. He just couldn't handle this. Not without Scott. He sniffled, trying to take a breath. "What…. What happened? How did he get hit?" Stiles asked, he needed to know what had happened. He knew that it was more serious than Deaton was saying, he could tell by the way he didn't want to tell Stiles. He was going out of his way to hide it.
He could hear a rushing in his ears as he heard Deaton tell him that his dad had been sitting in his squad car in the intersection and then Peter Hale had come tearing through drunk and hit him straight on. Stiles couldn't, this couldn't be real. He couldn't…. His heart was beating way too fast, as the news sunk in. Stiles couldn't lose Noah. He knew that it was too late. He knew that with Noah being hit straight on by Peter's car there wasn't much chance that he had that he was still alive. Stiles held up a hand, stopping Deaton's assurances that Noah would pull through. "Deaton, you can stop. I know that there's not much of a chance that he survived." His voice was wooden. Stiles couldn't handle this. One more thing couldn't be added to the pile he was already carrying.
"When is it going to be my turn to stop suffering?!" Stiles asked, his voice rising more than he had planned it to. "When is it going to be my turn to catch a break?! What have I done to deserve losing my mom, my husband having cancer, after he'd been put through years of torture from his own father and almost died, and now my dad? What has my dad ever done but help people?! HOW IS THIS FAIR?!" Stiles cried, tears were falling off his cheeks and he was having trouble breathing. He knew that there was a panic attack coming on. He couldn't do this. He couldn't handle any of this. That was when he lost consciousness.
It was about an hour later when he woke up, Deaton was sitting with him and Scott was just being brought back to him. Stiles sat up, wondering why he'd gotten so upset he'd passed out. Stiles sat up slowly as Scott was wheeled to a stop next to him. Stiles felt his heart slowly start beating normally as he ran his hand through his brown hair. Deaton let out a sigh of relief. Stiles reached out and took Scott's hand, who had reached out his hand for Stiles'. Stiles cleared his throat and finally said, "I'm okay. " He could feel Scott's thumb stroking the back of his hand. He focused on that.
"How long was I out?"
Scott heard Deaton telling Stiles it had been about an hour, and Scott felt a bit of fear clutch his heart. Stiles had been so upset that he'd gotten a panic attack and passed out. What could have happened that would have caused that? Scott tugged his chair closer still to Stiles and reached out, wiping tears off Stiles' cheeks. "What happened, baby? Why were you that upset?" Scott asked, his voice soft and soothing. He didn't know what he expected Stiles to say, but he didn't expect it to be that Noah had been in a horrific crash. Scott could feel his own chin starting to tremble as soon as he saw his husband speak the words. Scott couldn't bear this.
Noah was the only father he'd ever had. Scott did his best to keep himself from really letting go, he knew how fragile Stiles was going to be about this. Scott didn't want Stiles to think that he had to be strong for Scott. Scott didn't want Stiles to have to worry about him. "I know you're worried. But you know Noah's going to make it." Scott knew that Stiles needed him to say that. Scott reached out and brushed his lips over Stiles' softly. "And Peter Hale is going to pay for what he's done." Scott watched his husband's face crumble.
Scott let Stiles pull him in his lap, since Scott couldn't hold Stiles in his waist right now, and he let Stiles' head settle in his neck. Scott wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist. He knew that Stiles was fearing the worst. Scott was too. But he knew that Stiles didn't want to hear that out loud. Scott held Stiles as he cried, as they heard a doctor come up and tell them that they did everything they could, but they lost Noah. Scott knew how devastated Stiles was, and he held him the entire time the doctor was talking.
Stiles sobbed into his husband's shoulder. He couldn't believe that this was happening. It was a chemo day. Those days were already the worst out of his week. Every Friday and Monday, in the afternoon. Stiles knew that Scott was going to need to be sick soon. There was already a bucket on the floor near his chair. Stiles leaned up, still in shock but also knowing that while he had to lean on Scott right now he didn't have to do it physically. He reached out and settled Scott back in his chair, with as thin as he was it was much easier than it should have been, and settled the bucket on Scott's lap.
"I shouldn't be leaning on you like that when it won't be long till you're feeling sick." Stiles told him, and then looked up at the doctor, who Stiles recognized, he was one of Scott's doctors. Stiles said, "Thank you for trying all you could, Dr. Dunbar." Stiles said, and the doctor said he'd leave them alone to deal with the news. Stiles watched him walk away. As he did, it sank in, that this was the last time that he was ever going to be a kid. He was now a man. He'd just lost his father. Stiles was eighteen years old and married, but he didn't feel as much of a man before as he did now.
Letting out a breath, Stiles ran his fingers along Scott's arm. A cop stepped up needing to talk to Deaton about the accident, and Stiles met Scott's eye. His husband was watching Stiles with a pained look, and Stiles knew that Scott was trying to hold himself back from really letting go because he wanted to be strong for Stiles. Stiles didn't know what he was going to do if he didn't let Scott feel this too. He knew that Noah was the only father that Scott had ever known, and he knew that Noah had been so glad to see Scott and Stiles get married. Stiles brushed some stray tears off Scott's face.
"Baby, you don't have to keep it all in for me. I want you to feel like you can feel this too. He's your dad too." Stiles said, watching as Scott's face crumbled, and Stiles let him, reaching out and taking Scott's hand, holding on tightly.
As soon as Stiles told him to let go, Scott did. He cried, his shoulders shaking. His ball cap slipped back on his head, and Stiles let it come off, taking it into his lap with his free hand. Scott couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that someone like Peter Hale could live with themselves, having done what he'd done. Scott couldn't believe that they had to lose Noah like this. Scott was crying so hard it started his vomiting, and he reached for the bucket, glad that Stiles had put it there. Scott felt the pain of the hurt as he tossed his cookies, wondering when he'd be able to eat eggs again, he was tasting them coming up again.
They were there for about another hour, before Scott felt safe enough to go ahead and go out to the car and go home. They told Deaton to call them later and then headed out to the Jeep. Scott fell asleep as soon as he was settled in the seat. Honestly, Stiles was glad. He didn't want to have to worry about Scott on the way home. Stiles pulled out his phone and went to text his dad, and it hit him all over again. Stiles turned on the radio, putting it on softly. Stiles felt tears brush his eyes. He didn't know how he was going to get through this. His dad was gone. The one thing that Stiles had always had in his life, except Scott.
Stiles sat and cried for a few minutes before he could start the Jeep and get them home. They had to ride past Stiles' dad's house as they went, and he had to stop and pull over so he could look at it. Stiles reached for his key. He left the car running, and headed up the walk. He went inside, and stood in the doorway. There was a light on in the living room, so someone would think Noah was home. Stiles' eyes were full of tears as he stared around the room. It was…. It held so many memories. Right over there was where Scott and Stiles had fallen to the floor making out when they'd gotten back from Prom.
And over in the corner was where Stiles had been when he'd first heard that his mom was sick. Stiles had remembered passing out and waking up in his dad's arms. Tears brushed his eyes again and he took a deep breath, trying to calm down. There was so much history in this house, and Stiles was going to have to decide what to do with it. He didn't know what to do. It's not like they were going to ever going to get to go to college any time soon. Stiles had already gotten UCLA to agree to let them defer for a year. Stiles knew it might be longer than that, even, and it was starting to really depress him. Stiles brushed his hand through his hair.
Walking into the kitchen, he found the dishes from his dad's breakfast, and the coffee maker still had coffee in it. Stiles didn't know what he was going to do with this house. Stiles couldn't bear to sell it. But he wasn't sure that he had the heart to move in with Scott right now, and keep him from Melissa. Scott, as much as Stiles didn't want to admit it, only had so much time left. He'd never forgive himself if he took Scott here to live and then something happen to Scott and Melissa not know right away. Stiles stared around the room for a moment, trying to find the strength to leave. He glanced towards back of the house, where his room was. Stiles didn't think he could go in there and look right now though.
Finally though he left, going back out to the Jeep. Scott was still asleep. Stiles got back in, and stared at the house for a few moments longer, wishing that he had known that the last time he'd see his dad would be the last. He might have been able to say something more, make sure his dad knew how much he meant to Stiles. Stiles took a staggering breath, and finally he started breathing more normally. He set the car back on the road, heading for home. Stiles knew then and there that if he had to sell the house, it was okay. Because home was wherever Scott was. That was where his home was. Not a home, as much as he would miss seeing his dad in it.
His chin trembled as they made the turn onto Scott's street. Stiles knew that this next part was going to be so much harder than anything that he'd done so far. And it was killing him that he was going to have to deal with this. It honestly wasn't fair. Noah hadn't deserved that.
He hadn't.
Author's note: Okay. So I wasn't planning that. I honestly wasn't. Apparently the muse made that decision for me. The next chapter will pick up exactly where this one left off. I'll try to get some more fluffies in there next chapter. Anyway, I'll make sure to add the warning for Noah dying too. Ugh. Turning out more angsty than I originally thought but it's okay, it's more my style. Hope ya'll are hanging in! I am really liking how this fic is turning out, as sad as it is.