Stiles Stilinski: A Sad Tale

Chapter 7: Painful Love

Everything after that moment seemed to happen in slow motion for all four of them.
The Sheriff stood there, too stunned to move, as he held the gun that had been pointed at Stiles's stomach. He watched his son scream in pain, or shock, he couldn't tell which. Stiles fell to the ground.
Scott covered his ears as Lydia screamed at the sight of Stiles covered in his own blood, lying there.
And Stiles looked up as the three of the people he loved the most gathered around him. He felt his strength lessening and lessening with every breath he struggled to take.
Lydia was kneeling beside him, holding his right hand while Scott was on the phone, presumably calling an ambulance, along with Melissa.
The Sheriff just stood at his son's feet. His face was blank. If tear streaks hadn't been covering his face, you wouldn't have even been able to tell that he was broken, smashed to a billion pieces inside.
Scott had put his phone away, and now was holding Stiles's other hand. He tried taking the pain away. He squeezed and squeezed, but nothing happened. He looked into Stiles's eyes, and said over his own sobs,
"No... Please don't... No, please don't say it... Don't..."
Stiles's eyes let out a gush of tears, and he said the exact thing that Scott had been dreading,
"It doesn't hurt."
"No, no, no..." Scott put his forehead against Stiles's hand.
Stiles turned his head to face Lydia. She was smiling at him. But what a pain filled smile it was. Her eyes were like dams, trying to hold the tears back.
Her hands and lips were trembling, but she managed to speak,
"Stiles... Stiles... Hold on... Hold on because there's something I've been meaning to ask you... Yeah..." It was at that point that the dams collapsed and the tears came rushing, because she knew that what she was about to ask was something that might never happen, "Well, remember the winter formal? We went together. Well," she weeped after almost every word, "I was wondering if you- If you would like to- To do that a- again?" She knew it was stupid, but she needed him to know that this was what she wanted, "Stiles Stilinski, will you go to senior prom with me?"
Stiles nodded vigorously, causing tears to run down the sides of his head. Then he spoke, the words so faint, you couldn't even call it a whisper,
"Yes. Yes, because..." He started struggling more for breath, "because, Lydia Martin, I love y-" he tried to catch more breath, but couldn't. He tried, and tried, and tried.
Then he stopped. His chest stopped rising and his body became lifeless. The grip he'd had on Lydia's hand loosening until it was only her holding on.
"Stiles?" Lydia's face was the sight of pure terror. "Stiles! No! No! Stiles, Stiles, you can't! You can't because- because I love you!" She cried into his neck for a few seconds, then rose once again, looking into his dead eyes, "Stiles, I love you, and I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to say it! I'm so sorry! Stiles..." She sobbed once again, but then her face cleared slightly and became more consumed by panic than grief, "I never- I... Remember that time in junior year? Remember?" She touched his cheek, "That kiss? That was our first kiss... And I never wanted it to be our last... So..." She leaned forward and kissed him. She kissed him, and kissed him, like it was going to bring him back. Like he was suddenly going to kiss her back.
Scott let go of Stiles's hand that was already starting to feel colder, and put it on Lydia's shoulder,
"Lydia... Stop..."
"Lydia!" The Sheriff shouted, coming out of his trance.
She stopped kissing him, and slowly drew her lips from his. She stood up and just hugged the Sheriff.
Scott just stared at Stiles.
Melissa ran through the door and almost lost her footing at the sight in front of her. Then there heard ambulance sirens outside.
But they were all too late.
It was too late to save Stiles Stilinski.