Trigger Warnings: Graphic descriptions of a severe panic attack, time loss, distortion of reality, mentions of abuse and alcoholism, broken glass, self harm, descriptions of blood/very mild gore. Summary at end!

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Stiles couldn't stop shaking as he stumbled around the bathroom, getting the bath ready. He'd almost dropped the bubble bath in before he decided he needed to take a breath and relax while the tub filled.

He stepped over to the sink and braced himself by holding the sides, staring down the drain. The darkness of the hole made him uncomfortable and he looked up. For a moment when he saw his reflection… his mind flashed back to the dream, his own face smiling as he suffered, and it made his heart race with terror. He felt the shards prick into his fist cruelly as he threw it forward. He cursed, as he went to rinse his hands… But at least the mischievous hallucination of his reflection had been dispelled, and the bleeding had stopped with a gently rinse of cold water.

He looked over and the water was nearing the rim of the tub. He hurried over to stop it, cursing and shaking getting worse as his breathing followed suit, wondering how long he'd been standing there.

He knelt beside the tub to catch his breath and let the spinning of his head slow. His knees shaking as he got up almost made him face plant into the water, but he managed to get in with minimal falling and splashing.

The water surrounding his torso made it slightly easier to breathe, but didn't calm the banging of his heart against his ribs and his lungs. It made tears brim in his eyes.

He didn't know what to fucking do. He felt like his heart was giving out. He could feel the valves of his heart growing sore; if he didn't know better he would think they would bruise with the force of the pounding. His body still shook, making the water tremble around him.

He couldn't do this. He didn't want this to become a regular thing again. He didn't want things to be how they were before, this time without his dad to help him. He took a deep breath as tears fell down his cheek. He wiped them away, splashing the bath water on his face. It helped to ground him a bit.

He didn't need help. He didn't need his half drunken father fretting over him one moment, and guilt tripping him for going insane next. He didn't need anyone. He'd overcome this himself before,.he could do it again.

His eyes flicked to Sam's razor and rubbing alcohol sitting on the side of the tub. It had worked in the past to help calm him. Chances were it still would. He'd promised his father he'd stop when they'd both started doing better… But his father had promised he'd be there for him so he wouldn't have to… Stiles looked to the door to make sure he'd locked it. He picked up the razor, cleaned the blades thoroughly, making sure there wasn't any hair or skin or dirt stuck in it. He would make sure to rinse the cuts with hydrogen peroxide when he finished before he washed up, or if he was feeling particularly masochistic, maybe some of the alcohol. He drenched the razor in the alcohol and rinsed it off under the tap. He settled back into the water and relaxed as much as he could before bringing one of his legs out of the water and setting the razor against his leg, pulling is sideways, slow and easy as he felt it cut into his skin gently. His heart still pounded insistently, frantically but there was a feeling of relief as it seemed to at least start to relent. He moved it down slightly and cut again, starting to feel the faintest tingles of pain as he did. He had to sigh in relief as it showed signs of working. He moved it again and slid it slower.

Next thing he knew, before he even finished dragging the razor across his thigh, he heard the door open, and before he could turn to see her, Claire was beside the tub, grabbing his hand gently and taking the razor out of it, setting it aside.

"Dude, what the fuck were you thinking-" She whispered obviously concerned, but voice understanding. He shook his head.

"Claire, it's not like that, I wasn't trying to-to kill myself or anything, it's just- it helps me calm down-" Claire grabbed his shoulders, making him look her in the eye.

"Stiles, I get that, I understand where you're coming from, trust me, but doing this? Without letting any of us know? You can't just do this, Stiles, you could have died, and none of us would've known to come and check on you!"

"It's not that bad, I wouldn't have cut enough to-" He tried to argue, shaking his head. She shook him gently.

"What are you talking about? Look at yourself. Look around you!" She whispered, gesturing down at the tub. Stiles complied, shocked to see the water heavily tinted a bright red. He looked at his thighs to see they were covered in the little cuts, varying in depth. He hadn't done that, he didn't remember doing that. He-he must have blacked out….

"C-Claire I didn't- I-I didn't mean to- I-" She nodded.

"I know, I know, I've been there…. But that's why you tell someone, so they can check on you and make sure you're okay. Scott, me, one of the guys, anyone. If you feel like you have to do this, that's your choice, but you have to promise me you're not gonna be a fucking idiot about it and wind up dead…" She looked at him pleadingly, taking his shaking hand in her stead firm grip. He didn't know what to say…. He just nodded. "No, Stiles, I want you to promise me right now, you're not going to do this again without warning someone…" Tears were brimming in his eyes. He nodded, squeezing her hand softly.

"I promise… I'll tell someone…." He murmured, tears choking up his throat. Claire leaned in, headbutting him softly, putting her other arm around his shoulders.

"It's okay… I'm here, I've got you, dude…." She cooed gently. That only made him cry more. He didn't deserve this kind of concern.

"Why… do you care?" Stiles asked bewildered, but not ungrateful. She smiled, squeezing his hand.

"Foster kids look out for each other... That's just how it goes… I'm your sister now. I've gotta take care of you…" She offered glibly. He just sat with her in the silence for a bit.

"You… won't tell anyone about this… will you? I don't want them to think I'm…." He was worried, but Claire shook her head.

"Our little secret. I promise."

SUMMARY:

Stiles has a panic attack that causes him to hallucinate and dissociate, and decides to self harm/cut because that's what he did when he was younger to cope, Stiles get three in and blacks out without realizing it, until Claire comes in and makes him look at his now several dozen cuts, and warns him to tell someone when he's going to do something dangerous like that so someone can come check on him to make sure he doesn't accidentally die. He promises and basically, they hug. Stiles asks why she cares and Claire tells him foster kids take care of each other, and since he's her brother now, she's gotta take care of him.