HARD TO GET ➤ [ STILES STILINSKI ] > 1

29|THE POSSESSION OF STILES STILINSKI✔

' I stopped fighting my inner demons,
we're on the same side now. '

▪▪▪

TODAY IS the day that I dreaded.
It is the day where Stiles would get an MRI scan which would determine if he really has Dementia.

I didn't want to know the result,
I just wanted all of this to go away, but I knew that wouldn't happen.

So here I am, standing in front of Stiles as the doe eyed boy sits on the MRI machine, his eyes sad and teary as his gaze is focused on the floor.

Scott stands next to me, hin fiddeling with his fingers in a nervous habit.

"Stiles, just to warn you, you're going to hear a lot of noise during the MRI. It's due to pulses of electricity going through metal coils inside the machine. Uh, if you want we can get you earplugs or headphones." The doctor, dressed in all white, together with Melissa and Noah Stilinski approaches us.

The doctor has a tight smile placed upon his features, Stiles only shakes his head at him, "Oh, no, no. I don't need anything." Stiles dismisses as he sratches the side of his head, his eyes dull, almost emotionless.

"We are just on the other side of that window,okay? The sheriff says to his son, voice gentle.

Stiles nods, patting his father's shoulder as the Sheriff together with Melissa and the doctor make their way outside of the MRI room.

"You know what they're looking for right?" Stiles groaks.

"It's called frontotemporal dementia. Areas of your brain start to shrink. It's what my mother had. It's the only form of dementia that can hit teenagers. And there's no cure." He sounds hopeless, his voice soft, and I can see the tears welling up in his eyes.

"Stiles, if you have it, we'll do something. I'll do something." Scott insists, as he wipes away some of his tears.

"We'll figure it out, we always figure it out, Stiles." My voice cracks, and I can't help the tears escaping my eyes.

Rushing forward, I wrap my arms tightly around Stiles, my sobs muffled as I bury my face in the crook of his neck.

Stiles' hands wrap around my waist in a tight hug, and soon, Scott joins our hug, tightly wrapping his arms
around both me and Stiles.

▪▪▪

"You see this." The doctor leans forward in his chair, his pointer finger pointing toeards a colored section om the MRI of Stiles' brain.
"The tissue here and there. Both those spots are showing signs of atrophy." The doctor explains as I gasp loudly at this.

The tears well up, as my breathing become heavy.

I lock eyes with Stiles' father, before quickly snapping away my vision, rushing toward the exit of the MRI room.