A/N: Today has been nothing short of frightful and I'm not even half way through my 18 hour plus day. Hopefully this craziness that is my professional job will be over by the end of the week. The only form of escape I had (the legal sort of course), was to write this story. I hope you all enjoy this chapter as we get inside Stile's head.

Chapter 3

Emotional Time-Bomb

His dreams were disturbed as usual. Full of blood and the foul breath of a creature that seemed to be breathing down his neck but he still couldn't see. He tossed and turned and finally yelled out as he was slammed into by the creature effectively breaking his body rendering him useless. Lydia was yelling his name. Only it wasn't Lydia.

As he finally awoke he could see the grim face of his father standing over him, a worried and pinched expression on his face. Stiles blinked repeatedly and glanced at the clock to see that it was well after midnight. He attempted to shift himself into a sitting position but nearly cried out from the pain wracking his body.

"Stiles..." his father started but Stiles shook his head not wanting to hear it.

"Sorry I fell asleep."

"How long have you not been sleeping?" Stiles brought his eyes quickly to his father.

"How d-did you know?" He asked nervously picking at the blanket as he regained control of his breathing and willed his heart rate to slow down to a more natural pace.

"I've started catching on… I'm a bit slow and I know your mother would have noticed long ago."

"Dad," Stiles started but his father but he put his hand up to tell him he wasn't finished.

"How much of the Adderall have you been taking?"

"What…what are you talking about?"

"Stiles the pharmacy called and said that you had filled the maximum number of bottles in just a month. That should have lasted three times that… tell me you aren't taking that many." His father looked exhausted, like the last year had aged him twenty years. Stiles felt horrible for adding to any load his father was already carrying. He was afraid he'd be the straw that broke the camel's back and his father would drop dead of a heart attack or start drinking heavily again like when his mother had died.

"I just have been having trouble focusing… I haven't been sleeping well and it started getting to me more and more. I'm just trying to keep busy and keep my mind off of things." Stiles said softly as he attempted to shift into a more comfortable position.

"You want to tell me why you look like you got run over?" His father asked as he moved on to a different topic.

"Because I did." Stiles began and rushed on as his father rose in eyebrow and was about to demand information, "It was just gym class and I charged Isaac and kinda got my ass handed to me."

"Stiles… those boys need to be more careful. Are you okay? Did you get checked out?" His father asked. Stiles quickly ducked his head hoping to avoid the tirade his father was about to unleash.

"No I didn't get checked out because it didn't hurt at the time…"

"At the time huh? Are you telling me you're hurting now?" His father asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Maybe a little." Stiles admitted as he felt his face burn in shame.

"You want to show me or should we call Melissa? Or is it so bad that I'm putting you in the cruiser and taking you to the ER?" His father asked as he ran a hand over his stubble in exhaustion.

"Dad... I'm not going to the doctor, it's not that bad."

"Not that bad then… let me see." His father stood off the bed and Stiles rolled his eyes. He attempted to lift his shirt over his head but his shoulder wouldn't allow it and he nearly called out in agony but instead chose to bite down on his lip. His father didn't miss it and took a quick step to still him, he clicked on the lamp on the bedside table and glanced at the bruising along his side, he tried to pull the shirt off to look at his shoulder but Stiles couldn't help but whimper and his father stopped at once. "Anywhere else?" He asked so softly Stiles could hardly hear him.

"Um… my back… and my hip down my leg." He said as he swallowed past a golf ball sized lump forming in his throat. He couldn't help but feel like he had let down his father. He should have hid the pain better… or better yet he shouldn't have charged Isaac like a moron, or he should have been stronger. His father interrupted his internal lashing as he eased Stiles out of his jeans he had fallen asleep in. A quick glance underneath the band of his shorts revealed a horrible purple bruise nearly black in color.

"Jesus Stiles… if this isn't that bad. What the hell am I going to do with you? I think I just need to take you to the hospital". He looked resigned and defeated.

"No Dad c'mon. Can't we just call Scott's mom and if it's not that bad I can just take a day or two off of school okay?"

His pulse began to pound at the thought of going into that hospital. He'd braved it a few times on the account of his friends but he never wanted to be a patient. He had a huge fear of needles after watching his mother become a human pin cushion for years. He could feel the cold sweat start at the back of his neck at the mere mention of it.

"What about the other stuff Stiles? You can't keep self-medicating. After we get this straightened out I'm going to take you to see Doctor Allen. And that is final. I'll call Melissa and hope she can come take a look at you. If she says you go to the hospital we are going, no arguments understood?"

His tone had taken on that of the commanding officer and Stiles knew enough not talk back. Instead he uttered a soft "yes sir." He struggled to ease the constant ache while he heard his father make a phone call. How humiliating, he was weak and he hated to show it.

His thoughts were traveling down another dark path when his father returned still clutching his phone. "She just got out of work and is stopping here in just a minute." He looked like he wanted to say more but couldn't think how to word it. Stiles just sat in silence as the shame seemed to burn within him making him grow uncomfortably hot and chilled at the same time.

Both men whipped their heads to the door as Melissa strode through the door still clad in her bright scrubs from a long shift. She smiled at each of them in turn before making her way over to the side of the bed. "Alright, who's going to fill me in?" She asked. Stiles couldn't bring his eyes to her at all; he kept them trained on the floor. He couldn't help this overwhelming fear that he'd burst in to tears if he looked at anyone. That would just make it even more humiliating than it already was.

He could hear the soft murmur of this father's voice as he softly explained the situation to her. He hadn't even realized when his father left the room to take another call. It wasn't until Melissa laid her warm hand on his cheek that he jumped and brought his eyes up to hers. Her expression was more lined than he remembered but her brown eyes were warm and kind and there showed no hint of judgment in them.

"You okay?" She asked him. And for the first time the question didn't grate on his nerves. He could tell that she wasn't just asking about his physical injuries.

"I think I'll live." Stiles answered as his breath hitched a little. He took a deep breath to push the burning sensation of tears back. She gave him a warm smile and proceeded to lift his shirt to peak at his side.

"Can you move your shoulder at all?" She asked. Stiles tried to but it hurt too much so he stopped trying and just shook his head. She pressed her lips into a thin line as she felt around it through his shirt. She didn't say anything as she felt his rib cage and then shifted his shorts down to look at his hip. She brought her hand to her mouth to hide her reaction and Stiles shut his eyes not wanting to deal with it anymore. "You can feel your leg, no numbness or tingling right?" She asked with a small waiver in her voice.

"No, it's fine." He answered barely above a whisper. He was desperately fighting himself to keep from breaking down entirely but he was just so tired. It took a lot of effort to keep up the façade, to keep the wall up to keep everyone at arms-length. Sometimes he was just tired and lonely and wanted someone to take care of him.

"Stiles it is most certainly not fine. I don't even know how you walked away from it to begin with." She paused for a moment before continuing in her soft tone again. "Can you roll onto your side so I can feel your back?"

He complied and though it took him a few tries he was able to lie on his uninjured side. He took several steadying breaths to handle it but he still hadn't cried out or broke down. She lifted his shirt again and ran her fingers down his back. She stopped at the tender spot and softly touched it feeling around it with feather soft touches. "Have you had spasms, shooting pains down your back or leg, pins or needles?" She asked him as she pulled his shirt back down.

"Yeah but not until later today." He said as he slowly eased himself back onto his back.

"Probably because the swelling worsened as the day went on and it caused pinching in your nerves. Did you hit your head or neck? What about nausea or dizzy spells? Did you lose consciousness?"

"Ugh…" Stiles began but lost focus easily, "a little sick to my stomach maybe a little dizzy, and I'm not sure if I blacked out or not."

She pulled her pen light out and nearly blinded him with it as she looked at his eyes and felt around his head for any lumps and down his neck asking for any tender spots. When she was done she leaned back and thought for a moment. Stiles was fighting sleep again, though he was in tremendous pain and an emotional time bomb his body was overcoming with survival instinct and the need to rest.

"It's okay Stiles, you can rest. I'm going to go talk to your dad. I'll be right back." She said as she patted him softly on his leg.

When he opened his eyes again the room was dim with the early morning light. His eyes fell upon Melissa in the chair slumped over and asleep in the corner. His bladder was pressing in on him uncomfortably but he didn't even know if he could stand and shuffle down the hall to the bathroom. He was a bit confused as to why Melissa was asleep in the chair in the first place and wondered where his father had wandered off to.

He shoved the blankets off and pulled himself into a sitting position. Already the beads of sweat began to form as he battled through the stiffness and pain but he was determined to keep his last shred of dignity. He stood shakily on his feet and took an off balance step and then another. The pain in his leg worsened with every step but he managed to make it to the bathroom. He had nearly made it to his room when the back spasms started and he leaned heavily on the wall. He stopped for a minute in the door frame to gather the strength to make it the last half a dozen steps.

By now he was covered in a layer of sweat but he didn't care. Three steps away from the bed his leg started to shake and give out at the same time his back started to spasm. He called out as he started to pitch forward towards his injured side again and couldn't even throw his useless arm out to brace him. He closed his eyes and embraced for the inevitable impact, only it never came. Melissa had grabbed him as best as she could and guided him to the bed making Stiles immediately grateful for her presence.

"Easy there. I must have been out of it; I didn't even hear you get up. You okay?" She asked a she gave a nervous chuckle.

Stiles sucked in air like he'd run a lacrosse game and nodded. When he finally had managed to catch his breath he spoke. "Where's my dad?"

Melissa looked nervous at the question but quickly put her smile back on. "He had to go out on an emergency call. He said he'd meet up with us at the hospital."

"The ho-hospital?" Stiles asked his voice breathy and weak.

Melissa knitted her eyebrows in worry. "Stiles you are hurt far more than you realize. I can't be sure but I suspect that your shoulder is at least dislocated, you may have a herniated disc in your back, and you may have even fractured a rib or your hip!" Her voice had gotten louder as she went and she stopped to regain her composure as she sat down next to him on the bed and cupped his face in her hand. The gesture brought back memories of his mother doing that when he was young and he had to blink back the tears that immediately sprang forth. "Listen to me Stiles, I know why you don't like to go there, and I don't blame you. But you need help. I will stay with you the whole time and if there is something that makes you uncomfortable or scared or anything we can work around it okay?"

He nodded and broke her contact with his face and hastily swiped at a tear that had escaped.

"Okay." He said. He sat up and Melissa assisted him in a painfully slow trek to her car in the drive.