Stiles had thought the hardest drive of his night had been to the police station to talk to his father, but it was nothing compared to the nerve-wracking drive over to the animal clinic. He couldn't stay still. He knew his dad and Lydia had noticed it, but neither had said anything. So he fidgeted and tried not to break down into a panic attack. That was the last thing any of them needed.

All too quickly, his dad pulled up in front of Deaton's—who was still nowhere to be found—gravel crunching underneath the sheriff's car's tires. When the engine turned off, the three of them hopped out. Stiles closed his door loudly, feeling a sudden rush of apprehension and anger now that he was here. He rested his forearms on the window and leaned his forehead on them.

This was all so unfair. Why did everything have to turn out so wrong and twisted? He had thought that once the truth had come out everything would be okay. But that was stupid. Stupid thinking on his part. It was hopeful, foolhardy thinking that he hadn't truly believed in. If he had truly thought that, then why had he hidden it in the first place?

In his head, he knew it would turn out this way. He had feared it would. But somewhere in his heart, he hoped that Scott would see that he hadn't meant to. That it was an accident. That it was one of the worst things to have happened to him.

"Stiles?"

Stiles lifted his head from where he was resting against the car and looked over to Lydia. She looked drawn and resigned, but at the same time, determined. Ready for a fight. She looked every bit the fierce girl he had fallen in love with over and over again. And he found himself falling for her once again. She was confident, resolute, and Stiles knew that Lydia was going to give everything she had to make Scott realize the truth.

But what was the truth?

Stiles sighed when he realized he didn't know. Did anyone really? Was Theo really the reason behind Scott turning away from him? Or had Stiles done that on his own? He didn't know. And even if all this was cleared up, he would probably never really know for sure. He would always doubt.

"I'm fine," Stiles told Lydia once he realized she was staring at him. "I'm just…nervous."

"This is going to work," Lydia told him quietly, her eyes gentle and understanding. "Maybe…maybe it will take some work, but Scott knows better than to doubt his best friend."

Stiles laughed mirthlessly. "I don't think that Scott's all that wrong for doubting me. Even I'm starting to doubt me."

Lydia frowned and Stiles suddenly wanted to take back his words. He never wanted to be the source of unhappiness in the strawberry blonde's life. He never wanted to put anything but a smile on her face. Never.

Sighing, Stiles just let his whole body sag onto the car, all of the tension draining from his body. This wasn't what he wanted to do. He had wanted to fix things, hadn't he? Not break them. He didn't want to cause any more rifts between him and his friends. Scott was his best friend and Lydia was the love of his life. Of course he loved Malia, but Lydia was just an ache that never went away. If he caused something to break between them, he would never recover no matter how hard he tried.

"I think you're being ridiculous," Lydia said. "It's just Scott. If we tell him about Theo, he'll see that he was wrong."

Stiles straightened and looked Lydia directly in the eye. "And if he doesn't?" he challenged.

Lydia's mouth opened and closed a few times as she struggled for words. Finally she settled on an indignant, "He will. I know he will."

"No." Stiles ran a hand over his face and shook his head. "No, you're hoping. Knowing and hoping are two different things, Lydia. Two very different things. You want me to base my whole friendship with Scott on hope."

"If we don't have hope," Lydia said slowly, choosing her words carefully, "then what else do we have? I don't think you ever know something for certain, and if you don't hope for it, then you're never going to get it."

"I've already ruined this, Lydia," Stiles practically shouted at her. She squeezed her eyes shut, but didn't back down. "How the hell am I supposed to hope that this can be fixed when it's already been shattered!"

They were both silent for a moment, Stiles panting out harsh breaths as he tried to calm himself down. Lydia looked a little lost and tearful and Stiles regretted, once again, making her do anything other than smile. Why couldn't he just do something right for once?

"You keep doing this."

Stiles looked up sharply to see Lydia's unwavering gaze on him. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"You," Lydia breathed out. "I'm talking about you. I'm talking about the Nemeton. I'm talking about the Nogistune. I'm talking about A-Allison. Eichen House. The Benefactor's list. Theo. Scott. I'm talking about every damn thing that ever goes wrong around you, Stiles!"

Her words had started out soft, but as she went on, Lydia's words gained more and more velocity until it felt like each word was cutting into his flesh. And when she finished, Stiles felt like he had been hit with a sledgehammer. In the stomach.

Suddenly he was on his hands and knees and gasping for breath. Lydia had somehow appeared next to him, too.

"Stiles?"

"Hey, Stiles? Can you hear me?"

His dad. That was his dad. Stiles had forgotten that his dad was even with them, too caught up in his conversation with Lydia.

Both Lydia and his dad seemed worried, but Stiles just waved them off. He was okay. He could already start to feel his lungs start to work properly once more. Still slightly winded, Stiles sat up and leaned his back against the car door, exhausted. Well, at least it wasn't raining anymore. That would've just made everything so much worse.

"You okay, kiddo?"

Nodding his head, Stiles grabbed his dad's offered hand and let himself get pulled to his feet. "I think so," Stiles said, and it was true. He was okay. Physically. Mentally? Emotionally? He'd have to get back to his dad later on those.

"Stiles?" Lydia asked, timid and quiet. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Don't." Stiles looked over at her. He wasn't mad or anything. It had just taken him by surprise—well, surprise was kind of an understatement—at how true everything she had said was. He had become the kind of person to blame everything on himself, it seemed like. To sacrifice his own needs to save his friends. "You're right."

Lydia blinked, but didn't say anything else. She just gave him an odd look.

The sheriff clapped his hands loudly, effectively startling both teenagers into attention. "I think that's enough of that, don't you think?"

Stiles nodded and turned to face the door. "Yeah. Let's get this over with."

Scott heard the car pull up first, but he didn't move. Sitting in the front room in a silent vigil in hopes that it would somehow help Hayden where he couldn't, Scott stayed where he was. Theo was next to him, glancing at the door every few seconds. Scott almost wanted to ask what was wrong. But he didn't. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

It was the arguing that really caught his attention. Even with his werewolf senses he couldn't hear much more than muffled voices. Whoever it was arguing kept their voices down enough that it wasn't loud enough to travel enough to Scott's dulled senses.

Scott was exhausted. Maybe if he hadn't been so completely drained then he could have concentrated enough to hear who it was and what they were talking about, but in the end, he just didn't have the energy.

It seemed Theo did, because at every inflection of a voice being raised slightly, he tilted his head just enough to let Scott know he was listening. By the end of it, Theo was even scowling, his eyes distant and faraway, as if he had just heard of something that caused him a problem and was trying to come up with a solution for it. Who knew, though? That could be exactly it and Scott then thought that maybe he should be listening to the argument, too.

At that point it didn't matter, though. The argument had stopped and it was quiet. At least until the ringing of the bell on the door rang out as the door was pushed open. Lydia walked in, her head held high and her green eyes bright with both tears and determination.

"Lydia?" Scott asked, his voice flatter than he had hoped it would be. "I've been trying to get a hold of you for a while. You didn't answer."

"I've been busy," Lydia said, her eyes darting over to Theo and flashing before returning to Scott.

Scott followed her gaze and glanced over at Theo. Whatever Lydia had seen, though, was gone, as Scott found nothing wrong. The teen was looking at Lydia with thoughtful, almost concerned eyes. Scott turned back to Lydia.

"Doing what?"

Lydia inhaled slowly. "Jordan," she told him. "I've been with Jordan at the sheriff's station."

Scott's eyebrows scrunched together. "Did you tell him about…?"

Lydia nodded, her movements jerky and tense. One sniff told Scott that she was anxious and that she smelled a lot like….

Scott's concerned expression immediately turned into a glower. She noticed the change as soon as it happened, but her expression and stance didn't change. She held her ground and kept her head high as she faced Scott and Theo.

"Why were you with Stiles?" Scott asked. "I told him not to-"

"I know what you told him, Scott," Lydia snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously. "He came into the sheriff's station and he was an absolute mess."

Scott flinched but said nothing as Lydia reprimanded him. He wouldn't apologize for what happened. He still believed Stiles should have come to him before anything else. It still hurt to find out that Stiles didn't trust in him enough to tell him about Donovan.

"Stiles should have-"

"Don't tell me what Stiles should have done, Scott!" Lydia yelled, her voice tight with anger and sadness. "Not when you couldn't do something as simple as hear him out. You both are absolute idiots sometimes, I swear!"

Not knowing what she was talking about, Scott rose tentatively from his chair and reached out a hand towards the banshee. "Lydia? Are you okay? What happened?"

Lydia glared at him. "What did Theo tell you? About how Stiles…about how Donovan attacked Stiles?"

"What are you talking about, Lydia?" Scott asked. "How would you know that Theo said anything about it?"

Staring at Scott pleadingly, Lydia practically begged, "Just tell me, Scott. What did he say to you?"

Scott looked between Theo and Lydia, measuring the two to see where this would lead. Lydia only had eyes for Scott, but if Scott had to guess, if Lydia had been looking at Theo right now, her glare would have been daggers so sharp, they'd probably hurt even without being physical.

Theo, though, looked vaguely intrigued, like this was an interesting development that he would love to see play out. That seemed to be how Theo always seemed to be taking things, though, as more things played out. Unless he was concerned.

Behind Lydia, the door opened again and this time the sheriff and Stiles ran in, both looking rather panicked. Scott idly wondered what the two of them were doing here, but pushed that thought away in favor of trying to figure out just what the hell was going on.

"Damn it, Lydia!" Stiles yelled, pushing forward to grab at her wrist and pull her back. "You were supposed to wait for us!"

"Calm down, Stiles," the sheriff said, intercepting Stiles before he could reach Lydia and yank her away from Scott and Theo.

"You want me to calm down?!" Stiles yelled, his voice raising an octave as his eyes sporadically roamed the room, never settling on anyone or anything longer than a second. That is until his eyes met Theo's. "I'll calm down when he gets the hell out of this town!"

"Seriously, Stiles?!" Scott asked, the venom in his voice causing Stiles to flinch back and slowly meet the werewolf's gaze. Calmer this time, Scott continued, "Not this again. Theo's done nothing-"

Stiles snorted. "I don't care what he's done at this point. All I know is that everything went to hell when he showed up. I'm not taking any chances!"

The sheriff put a comforting hand on Stiles' shoulder, trying to calm the irrational teen down. "Hey, Stiles, remember what we said about fixing and restoring? What are you trying to do here?"

Scott couldn't figure out what the sheriff was talking about, but apparently Stiles knew exactly what his father was referencing. He deflated at once and stared miserably at the floor. Scott almost felt bad for him, but wouldn't be the one who would reconcile the two of them this time.

"Scott, can you tell me what Theo told you about Donovan and Stiles?" the sheriff asked softly, a gentle hand squeezing Stiles' shoulder gently when Stiles flinched again. Scott noticed that the teen almost looked like he wanted to curl in on himself, and Scott realized he hadn't seen Stiles look so vulnerable since the Nogistune.

Shoving that thought aside entirely, the werewolf looked between Theo, Lydia, Stiles, and the sheriff, feeling more than lost. From all of their wary expressions—well, besides Theo, who just looked contemplative—he felt out of the loop. And for an alpha, he wasn't so sure it was really supposed to be that way.

So, since he had no idea what else to do, Scott told the occupants of the room what Theo had told him about Stiles attacking Donovan and then his and Stiles' conversation afterwards, just because it seemed to justify his thinking even more. Even though he didn't know why he needed to justify himself anyways.

Was this how it felt to be interrogated?

Stiles held his breath as Scott recounted his conversations with both Theo and Stiles. He should have been relieved, he supposed, when he heard the lie that Theo had told Scott. And yet, he wasn't. He was just exhausted.

Exhausted seemed to be the word that could cover his entire existence since he had found out about werewolves and everything had gotten so complicated. Sometimes, like now, he just wanted to fall into a deep sleep and hope that everything would be okay when he woke up.

But that wasn't how life worked. At least, that wasn't how his life worked. No, nowadays, Stiles never found the blissful sensation of a dreamless sleep. His nights were usually plagued with nightmares or research and theories that never seemed to end. It all left him beyond tired and feeling like he needed to run away or go to someone for a big hug and hope that someone else could beat this monster that seemed to haunt him at every turn.

There was silence in the room and Stiles looked up from the floor to realize that everyone was staring at him for some reason. Especially Scott, who was looking at him oddly. Stiles could almost see the gears in his best friend's head turning as he struggled to figure out the meaning of Stiles', Lydia's, and the sheriff's visit to the animal clinic.

Finally, after too long a time of nothing but quiet, Scott finally spoke up. "Why did you want to know that?"

Silence hung over the room once again. Stiles' dad cleared his throat when it became clear that his son wasn't going to answer Scott's question. Stiles felt bad for making his father clean up his mess, but he was just too exhausted and heavy to ty anymore. Not when he knew the outcome.

"If we don't have hope, then what else do we have? I don't think you ever know something for certain, and if you don't hope for it, then you're never going to get it."

Or did he know the outcome? Maybe that's what he thought the outcome would be, him getting his heart crushed into dust for the second time that night, but did he have any hope that it would turn out okay? Maybe Lydia was right, and if he didn't hope, it wasn't going to happen.

So should he have hope that this would turn out okay? Could he do that to himself?

"I wanted to see if it matched what Theo told me," Stiles' dad said, cutting through Stiles' thoughts like a scalpel and pulling him back to the present.

Scott's eyebrows knit together like they always did when he was confused. The werewolf glanced between Theo and the sheriff several times before settling on the sheriff. "What did Theo tell you?"

"Theo told me that he was being chased by Donovan and killed him in self-defense."

"Is that true?" Scott whispered to Theo.

The look of surprise on Scott's face was not unexpected, but Stiles was still a little shocked himself that Scott had immediately believed his father. He had expected a lot more denial and questioning. He hadn't expected Scott to just turn to Theo like that and ask out of the blue.

Stiles licked his lips nervously as he processed what was happening around him.

Theo was smirking, Lydia looked like she was halfway between crying and murdering someone, his dad looked calm and collected but tense, and Scott just looked downright appalled. And Stiles…Stiles felt blank. Numb. Like he couldn't decide how to feel.

"Of course it's true, Scott," Theo said, a malicious sneer contorting his face. "It was the only to break you and Stiles apart. Although, it helped that Stiles didn't want to hurt you by telling you he accidentally killed someone who was going after him just to hurt his father."

The sheriff pulled his gun out of his holster, stepping forward as Lydia stepped back and grabbed Stiles' wrist. Stiles didn't even notice. He was too fuzzy to even understand what was going on anymore.

There was a shout and some growls before his dad's gun went off, and then Stiles finally couldn't take it anymore. Swaying dangerously, Stiles let out a shaky half-sob before his knees gave out and he was suddenly pitching forward and into someone's waiting arms.

Stiles grabbed at the arms holding him, his chest tight with sobs that couldn't quite escape.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely to the room. "I'm sorry, Scott. I should have told you. About everything. I just couldn't. I didn't know how. I thought you would-"

He didn't know what he said after that, but he was almost certain it was all muffled blubbering as he sobbed into the unknown person's arms—he was pretty sure it was Scott, but he wasn't ready to deal with the consequences if it was (or wasn't, he didn't know which one was worse) his best friend.

"I'm sorry, too, Stiles," Scott said into his ear, his voice full of concern and regret. "You were right about Theo, and I- I'm such a- I was a really big jerk, you know? I should have heard you out. I should have…."

They both should have done a lot of things that they hadn't, but Stiles finally let himself hope that maybe things weren't as shattered as he had once thought they were. Maybe they had a long way to go, but Stiles was sure that something as precious as this friendship was worth figuring out.

Stiles was just happy to have his best friend back.

I am so sorry. Sorry for taking so long to get this and ILAPA out (which I still need to do). I'm also sorry for the incredibly cheesy ending. It was a little fast for my liking, and I'm not sure if I'm completely satisfied with it, but I don't want to rewrite it all just. Maybe I will in the future, but not now. I have ton on my plate right now, so everything's hectic.

I appreciate your guys' enthusiasm for this story, though. To tell you the truth, this story was supposed to just be a look into Stiles' mind and emotions in an AU, but then you guys wanted more, and I didn't want to disappoint. I'm not sure if I'll write another chapter after this, so don't hold your breath. But it may be a possibility. For now, though, I'm marking this as complete and putting it aside. I just need to focus on my other stories. Sorry.

Thanks for everyone's support, favorites, follows, and reviews! I hope everyone enjoyed it! Thanks again!