S͟T͟E͟R͟E͟K͟ I͟M͟A͟G͟I͟N͟E͟S͟

More than forever

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Sickness, angst, get tissues NOW!
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Stiles had been on the donor list since he was 10. He honestly had given up on actually getting a kidney because after 8 years he hadn't significantly moved up on the list. He understood, really he did, it just wasn't in the cards for him. He knew his fate, he had been diagnosed with Polycystic Kidney disease right after his mom died. He was atoning for his sins of killing his mother. His therapist doesn't think he had any part but he knew. Both of Stiles parents had told him that, his father while black out drunk after his mother's death and his mother when she was dying in her hospital bed. His kidney was failing but not fast enough to be an emergency, not enough to be a high priority. His dad wasn't a match, wrong blood type, and no one in the Beacon Hills area was a matching donor type. Realistically there was a match in town but who would give their kidney away to someone they didn't even know. It was damn exhausting trying to keep face for his father who had some unfailing hope that someone would match with Stiles and all would be fixed. Stiles was more of a realist, he knew the statistics of getting a kidney from where he was on the list in time before he kicked the bucket from organ failure.

When it crossed his mind he knew it was a morbid thought, waiting for someone to die so he could live. At this point he didn't really want to live. He'd never tell the doctors that, his dad couldn't afford the healthcare he had let alone a section on a psych ward. Being able to live at home was the best he had, even if he had to give up school and most activities normal teenagers partake in,. One of the wonderful side effects of having a kidney disease is anemia which leaves Stiles utterly exhausted all the time.

Stiles shook his head trying to jar his spiralling thoughts back to the present. Everything ran in circles. It wasn't the best mindset to have when walking into a doctor's appointment. The only other place he went beside his house. Every week he walked in the same entrance, down the same corridors and up in the same elevator; all in case his condition worsened and in case his kidney took a swan dive in anticipation of complete organ failure.

Stiles's dad drove him in each time since he'd accidentally driven into a ravine. He'd been so damn tired and achy and between one second and the next his concentration drifted from the road ahead. His dad had told him it wasn't entirely his fault.

It was depressing how well they knew the hospital staff, Stiles and his dad were greeted by nearly every nurse and receptionist as they made their way down the familiar route of corridors. With nothing better to do Stiles had calculated he'd spend seventeen minutes in the waiting room on the fourth floor waiting room D, then he'd spend another 15 minutes in the consultation room before the nurse and doctor came through to him. Stiles wished they switch it up sometimes because these doctors visits were really the only thing that got him out of the house and even these were insanely predictable.

Like clockwork, the next doctor proceeded with an examination then a blood test followed that. Stiles peed in a cup and then the doctor left with a few brief words about positive thinking and how he'd look forward to seeing him again the next week. The only time anything varied was when his bi-monthly MRI was due. Stiles wanted variety in his life so badly but there were no opportunities for adventures and new experiences with a debilitating chronic illness .

Stiles went through the motions and in an hour the appointment was over again for another week. His doctor was probably the oldest man alive Dr. Quash as he had to be at least 90 years old with his stark white hair and hunched in shoulders that always made him look like he was hobbling along more than walking. Stiles is pretty sure his doctor is also closer to death than he is and Stiles is pretty damn close.

Driving home with his dad after doctors appointments are Stiles least favorite part of his illness. His dad always has this look on his face as he glances over like Stiles will disappear right before him. It was the same look the Sheriff gave his mom the months leading up to her death. Stiles felt so guilty for that look because he is doing the exact same thing his mom did, dying slowly. He wished he could have had the chance to die quickly and suddenly, because no matter what anyone says watching a loved one die is always more painful than the sudden death. Not that Stiles wants to die before his father, but the universe could have at least been kind to Stiles dad; not make him watch the two most important people in his life wither up and cease to exist, unable to do anything to stop it.