How hard could it be? • LM / SS

Chapter 79

                 "Somewhere in these eyes,
                          I'm on your side."

Jade fiddled with the hole in her tights, swinging her legs backwards and forwards while she sat on the bed of the MRI machine next to Stiles. The doctor was explaining how it would work, just so he was prepared for what he was about to go through.

Noah and Melissa sent him small smiles, and a squeeze on the shoulder before leaving. Jade nudged Max in the ribs, tilting her head towards the door. It was probably best to give Scott and Stiles some privacy before they said their own pieces.

"Where are you going?" Stiles furrowed his brows, gripping onto the sleeve of Max's brown jumper, refusing to let go until he got an answer that he classed as satisfying.

"We're just gonna give you a moment, all right? Be back in a minute, don't worry," he smiled reassuringly, grabbing Stiles fingers and prying them off his clothing. He let out a breath of relief when he stepped outside the room. The air out here seemed to be less heavy. Less filled with dread and worry.

The MRI room was pretty depressing, and it seemed really stuffy, as if it was weighing them down. But that might have just been the severity of the situation. He was beyond grateful that he'd gotten to skate for a while earlier with Isaac; just to clear his head for a while. He would most definitely not have been able to handle a double economics class, listening to Coach drone on and on.

The twins were quiet, listening to the hustle and bustle of the hospital corridors. It felt so weird that everyone was going about their every day lives, yet here Stiles was, about to be told whether or not he had a life threatening illness. Specifically, the dementia that had been the cause of death of his mother.

"You can go in now," Scott held the door open, waiting for someone to pass by him. He plastered a watery smile on his face, already after wiping his eyes before facing his cousins. He chewed the inside of his cheek until he could taste blood, letting Max go in and hearing the door close behind him.

"I still don't know why you didn't take the music," Max observed as he jumped onto the small table next to Stiles. God forbid, but if he would have had to sit in a machine for hours listening to nothing but a clinking, he would go crazy. He bit his lip when Stiles leaned his head on his shoulder, feeling tears start to form in his eyes. "You've got this, okay? You'll be fine, don't worry."

"What if I have it? The dementia," Stiles whispered, staring blankly ahead at the white wall. God, everything was so plain in here. White walls, a white ceiling, a white machine. The only interesting thing was a different shade of white at the bottom of the skirting boards.

"We'll deal with that if it happens, alright? And we'll deal with it how we always deal with everything. Together. As a pack. We'll find some solution."

"Stop crying, you'll start me off," Stiles laughed, fixing his hair that now had water in it from the faucet that was Max's eyes. Funnily enough, that seemed to be close to what Scott had told him too. But no matter how much he wanted to act brave, to show his dad that he would be fine, that he wouldn't have to be alone, he couldn't. He was scared. Fuck that, he was terrified.

Finally sitting up, he took Max's hand in his own, feeling his heartbeat quicken. Squeezing it tightly, he tried to get what he was feeling across without having to say it out loud. Letting go, he wiped away the fallen tear that had escaped, wrapping his arms tightly around Max's body. "Right. Go send in Jade before she kills you."

He watched the door close behind him, feeling a sudden emptiness in his chest. "I love you. I think, anyway," he whispered to the empty room. He'd only had the guts to say it now because what if he never got the chance too? Even though no one was around, at least he knew he'd said it. Out loud this time, and not in his head.