little mccall || stiles stilinski

I Should Have Asked You How to Be

"I heard you say something today," Stiles pulls up in front of my house "It's not your fault."

"Yes it is," I state flatly. There's no point of convincing myself it isn't.

"I don't know why you think that." He pushes, and I don't want to argue. I understand that he's just trying to make me feel better, but I don't deserve it. I've earned every crushing ounce of pain.

"Do you know why she was even at the school today?" I ask him and he shakes his head.

"I forced her to help me figure out what Scott was hiding. I got her involved in something I knew would be dangerous. And when she figured it out, she begged me not to go to the recital. She knew that Ms. Blake was bad. But I didn't listen to her!" I yell and he cringes. It's that bad. "I went to the school and she came to warn me. To show me all that was going on so I wouldn't get hurt, but guess what? I'm not the one who got hurt. She did. She got hurt trying to save me."

"It's Ms. Blake's fault," He tells me, with a tired sigh. Is he sick of me? Am I too much? I cant help but feel self conscious. "She's the bad guy." He assures me. He looks tired still, but when I pay closer attention, something about his demeanor is so caring. I don't know how to take any of his words.

"Whatever." I open the door to his jeep and walk towards my house. There's no point in trying to figure him out. I'm over him. Completely. Romance is such a stupid trivial thing to be worried about. Maybe if he wasn't so consuming, I would have been more careful with Tessa. Part of me hates myself for blaming him. The other part believes it to be necessary.

"Wait," He jumps out of the jeep as well and chases me down, tapping my shoulder when he reaches me. "You can't be here alone."

"Why not?" I grab the spare key underneath a flower pot and unlock the door.

"It's not safe." He trails me into the house.

"I don't care."

"Well I do," he says. "Alright?"

I sit on the couch in my living room, and think of all the times me and Tessa have sat here. I can't handle it, but where else am I supposed to go? She's everywhere in this house.

"Oh my God." I cry as another wave of realization hits me. The more real it gets the more I hate myself.  She's everywhere. This is my fault. I killed my best friend. I took her away. It's my fault. I can't breathe any of this cursed air.

"I don't know where to go," I hyperventilate. "She's everywhere— where can I?"

"Bella," He steps closer to me and rests his hand in my shoulder, ignoring the blood. Blood. This is her blood. She's not just all over the house, she's all over me.

"The blood—" I panic "She's on me. Please get her off. I don't want to—"

"Alright," He scratches his head, trying to solve me like a math problem. "Let me call someone. They can help you—um— clean up."

I want to argue that I can take a shower by myself, but honestly I don't know if I can. I nod my head and slide to the ground, hugging my knees as he tries to call someone.

"Allison's on her way." He sits next to me, and starts fidgeting with his hands. He look nervous. I'm not sure why, until I remember his dad.

"Go," I tell him. He looks at me like I've lost my mind.

"No," His brow furrows "I'm not leaving you."

"Stiles," I level with him. "Go save your dad. I'll be fine."

"Okay," He cringes. Leaving obviously causes him a lot of stress.

"Allison's almost here. I won't be alone." I assure him.