I'm fine. |stiles stilinski•

Part 29

The second to last chapter. This one is mostly just flashbacks from Derek and Scott's POV.

SCOTT

I lie on my bed in a heap and just think. I've been doing that a lot lately. Thinking. Mostly about Stiles and all the shit he's going through. He doesn't smile much any more. None of us do.

It was a hot day and we were on summer vacation. Stiles, Lydia, Allison, Isaac, Malia, Derek and I all went camping. I learnt Stiles doesn't like camping. At all. So, we had pitched our tents and sat out in the blazing sun by the lake. All of us in our swimwear. Except Stiles.

"Dude, I can't believe you didn't pack your swim shorts!" I laughed, jeering at the jeans he was wearing.

"I thought it was gonna be cold." He replie sternly though gritted teeth.

Everyone laughed at him. He didn't pack any shorts or sunglasses. I have no idea why he thought it'd be cold in California summer.

I smile at the memory, now fading. That was two years ago. Before Allison died. I frown, thinking of her. I already lost one person I love. I can't lose Stiles as well.

DEREK

I gently rock Stiles in my arms. He smelt very sick today, but it was hard to identify when it was just the chemo. He snored slightly between breaths, making me smile. We were sat, huddled together, on the couch under some blankets and his head was squished into my chest as he curled up next to me. I stroked my fingers over his hair, which was very thin and short, barely noticeable, but still really soft. My fingers wandered down the back of his neck and onto his back, where I rubbed it slowly and gently, tracing my hand down the bumps of his spine and his very defined rib cage. I think back to the time when he saved me from drowning.

God, almost four years ago. I smile. He's saved me a few times now. Like when I asked him to cut off my arm and he refused.

"You're not afraid of a bit of blood, are you?" I asked, hissing in pain at the feeling of my arm getting torn apart by this damn bullet.

He scoffed. "No! But I might at a chopped off arm!" He cried, squirming away from my gross arm.

"Just. Do. It." I ordered sternly at him. He picked up the knife and held it close to my arm. I gritted my teeth, preparing for the excruciating pain about to come my way.

Little did I know that the excruciating pain I was going to face would be far worse than a chopped off arm. It'd be seeing Stiles going through his own excruciating pain, and watching, knowing there was nothing I could do.
He stirred beneath my grasp. He was dreaming about something. I hope it was a happy dream, I really do.

SCOTT

"You know what they're looking for, right?" He asked, looking up at me with terrifyingly sad eyes. I didn't answer. I couldn't answer

"It's called frontotemperal dementia." Said Stiles, his voice a weak croak. I turned away.  I couldn't look at him.

"Areas of your brain start to shrink." He says. I clench my fists. Stiles' brain is way too precious to lose...

"It's what my mother had." He said. Nope. No. I let a tear trickle down my face, but quickly wiped it away.

"And there's no cure." He finally said. I turned to face him, now, my eyes red from trying not to cry.

"Stiles..." I began. What do you say to someone who might die?

"If... If you have it... We'll do something." I say, nodding at him. He looks up at me, his eyes filled with hopelessness.

"I'll do something." I assure him sternly. His face scrunches up and a few tears escape. I pull him into a hug. Possibly the biggest hug I've ever given. I can't let him go. Not yet. Not ever. I cry into his shoulder and he cries into mine.

Scott, stop! God, I need to stop thinking about this. Him. He's gonna be okay. He's strong enough to beat it.

"You're not no one, Scott, okay? You're someone. Scott, you're my brother, okay? And I need you..." Spoke Stiles, his voice croaky and hoarse from tears. I shook my head at him, letting more tears fall down my face.

"So, if we're gonna do this..." Stiles spoke with fear lacing his voice. He took a slow step closer to me, and held out his arm. Then, slowly he took the candle from my hand. I felt his hands shake as they briefly touched mine.

Suddenly he threw the flame behind him. However the flame soon caught alight. Lydia screamed and ran towards us both, knocking us down as the explosion took place.

Stiles saved my life.