Unsteady | Sterek

One: Mama, come here

He isn't sure how he ended up here but here he is, standing and staring and waiting. He doesn't know what he's waiting for but he's waiting. He will always be waiting.

"Stiles?"

He needs someone to talk to, needs to be somewhere that isn't home. He can't be alone right now, can't bear to be alone in that room full of haunted memories. It isn't his room anymore. Nothing is his anymore.

He can't talk to Scott-

"Stiles."

-hell, he can't even look at Scott anymore. He knows Scott doesn't blame him, nobody blames him but they should blame him. They should all blame him.

"Stiles!"

He blinks and looks up, staring tiredly into dark eyes filled with confusion and annoyance.

"What do you want SourWolf?" He asks, rubbing his forehead. God, he's exhausted.

Derek frowns slightly, his scowl still fixed in place. "Stiles, you came to me."

"So I did." Stiles shakes his head. "Forget it." He turns away, aims for his Jeep, only to find his Jeep isn't there. He must have walked.

"Stiles." Derek sounds concerned now and Stiles almost laughs. Almost. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." His voice is calm, his heartbeat steady; Stiles knows how to lie to a werewolf. "It's nothing."

"It's got to be something."

Stiles just sighs and keeps walking. No doubt, Derek will tell Scott and Scott will talk to Stiles and everybody will be concerned for about two minutes and then they'd go right back to pretending. That's all everybody does now. Pretend.

He walks and walks, going nowhere and everywhere. He should be going home, he knows that, but there is nothing for him there. His dad is working, he's always working, and Stiles knows it's his fault. He needs to be a better son, he needs to be a better everything.

Soon, the sun is rising, soft light stalking him as he returns to his room, tired but not sleepy. He changes for school, makes breakfast for his dad, does everything he is supposed to do. Going through the motions, yet he's still  waiting.

The drive to school is quiet, no music, no talking because nobody is there. Scott has his own ride to school, Scott has Kira, Scott doesn't need him anymore. It's just Stiles and he's beginning to think that Stiles isn't anything at all. There is no worth, no meaning to Stiles.

He pulls up, gets out, slaps a bright grin on his face. He can pretend, just like everyone else, that he is okay. He isn't okay. Then again, he hasn't been okay for a very long time.

"Morning Stiles." Lydia looks happy but he can see her pain and her tiredness. She is broken too. She pretends too.

His face can't get any brighter as he says, "Hey Lydia."

She gives him a blinding smile and flounces off, playing her role of Queen Bee. Stiles doesn't have a role to play, not anymore. That had been taken from him, just like his friends, just like his family.

Not once does his shining smile waver, turn bitter. As far as anyone is concerned, Stiles is happy. Stiles is normal. They don't have to worry about Stiles. Stiles is fine.

"You good?" It's Scott. Stiles has to fight the brief flash of panic and guilt. This was the first time Scott has talked to him in weeks.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he says nonchalantly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Scott gives him a once over, trying to pick apart what Stiles is hiding. He won't find anything. Stiles is better than that. "Derek told me about last night."

Stiles shrugs. "Derek doesn't care."

"Of course he does."

"No, Scott, he doesn't." Stiles starts walking, heading for his locker. "I'm not park of his pack."

Scott frowns at him. "You're part of my pack."

Before all this, before Stiles was a murderer, he would've felt a warmness in his chest but now he just feels hollow. "Aw Scotty," he says teasingly. "Is this love?"

Scott relaxed, the smallest bit of relief seeping through his eyes. Stiles remembers how much pain had been in those eyes only two months before. Pain because of him.

He doesn't stop smiling the whole day.