Kiss It Better

3

"Stilinski! Are you deaf or stupid?" Finstock yelled, coming over to stand in front of Stiles' desk.

Stiles kept his eyes trained on his notebook, his vision blurry. His breathing was shallow and ragged. He tapped his pencil against the table repeatedly, his leg bouncing in time with it. His throat felt closed up, like he couldn't breathe. His hands were shaking uncontrollably. His brain was fuzzy, not fully comprehending what the coach was saying to him.

"I asked you a question." Finstock raised his eyebrow. 

Scott glanced between them nervously. His eyes were wide with worry as he took in the scene before him. Stiles had only returned to school about a month ago after losing his mother. He wasn't sure if Finstock knew the reason for his absence. He didn't usually bother looking into his students' lives.

Ever since the funeral, Stiles had been having panic attacks. Usually the two ten year olds were separated when they happened, Noah taking Stiles somewhere quiet to calm down. Melissa would gently lead her son away with a hand on his shoulder. Scott had wanted to help but his mother had told him that Stiles would be embarrassed. Scott didn't want to embarrass his only friend. 

The whole class was staring silently. Coach was known for humiliating students and no one wanted to step into his line of fire. Scott wanted to speak up, to help Stiles but he didn't know what to say or do. There was always an adult around to help Stiles, well a rational one at least. 

A tear slipped down Stiles' cheek. He didn't even reach up to wipe it, his whole body too tensed up. 

"Are you- Are you crying, Stilinski?" The coach asked incredulously, earning a few giggles from Jackson and his friends. Scott shot them a glare.

"Sir-" Scott tried to butt in, leaning over the aisle closer to his friend.

"Not now, McCall. Stilinski still has to answer, tears or not."

"But sir, I think he's-"

"McCall! Stilinski's well able to answer for himself. Isn't that right? Or do you need McCall to answer for you?" Finstock sneered condescendingly. 

Stiles suddenly shot up from his seat, the metal of the chair legs scraping against the linoleum before clattering down. The boy abandoned his stuff and shot out the door.

Scott quickly gathered both of their things and ran after him. He ignored the teachers protests in favour of finding his best friend.

"Stiles?" Scott called, looking down each corridor and through the window of each unoccupied room. "Stiles?" He called again. Scott was now beginning to panic. He didn't know what would happen if he didn't find Stiles. He guessed that a panic attack was something similar to an asthma attack. Stiles was hurting and he needed help.

Scott ran down the hall before pausing and quickly backtracking towards the boys bathrooms. He pushed open the heavy door and stuck his head in.

"Stiles!" He breathed in relief, running over to the other boy who was hunched over underneath a sink. 

Stiles was hugging his legs against his chest, rocking back and forth. The tears were flowing freely from his eyes now, making his face blotchy. 

"Go 'way," Stiles managed to gasp out, refusing to look at Scott. Said boy shook his head, dropping their bags and kneeling in front of him. He tried to catch Stiles' eye but the boy had buried his face in his knees.

"I want to help." He said with an air of certainty. "We have to call your dad." He reached forward, ready to take Stiles' emergency phone from his pocket but the boy flinched away.

"No. No, you can't. He worries, you can't," Stiles choked out, shaking his head quickly.

"I don't know what to do, Stiles. We need to get help." Scott tried to reason desperately. He didn't like seeing the older boy hurt. He wanted to help. He needed to help.

"D-deep breaths. C'mon, Stiles, take some deep breaths." Scott's hands were uselessly dangling by his side, unsure of what to do. He wanted to reach out for him again but was scared he would move away again. He knew there was no use fighting against him for the phone. Stiles was extremely stubborn. 

Scott watched as his friend wheezed in front of him in an attempt to catch his breath. Stiles shook his head at him. It felt as though his airways had closed and no matter how desperately he tried to breathe, his lungs wouldn't fill.

Scott grabbed his school bag, fumbling around in it before finding his inhaler. He shook it and pressed it to Stiles' lips. 

"Here! Ready?" He pushed it down, watching as Stiles took a puff of it and tried to hold the medicine in. 

Stiles' shaky breaths immediately resumed.

Scott felt more and more desperate now. 

"H-how does your dad calm you down? What can I do?" Scott could hear the hysterical note in his voice. He moved closer to Stiles, putting a hand on his knee. He didn't know if he did it to comfort himself or Stiles.

"I-I need to- hold- I need to hold my breath." Stiles gasped out. Scott was nothing more than a blur of colour in front of him. His image clouded by the lightheaded sensation in his head and the pools of tears in his eyes.

"Okay um.. okay.." Scott glanced around, as though he would find the answers on the grimy bathroom wall. "How do we- okay."

Suddenly, lips were pressed against Stiles'. There was hands holding his face up. The hands were clammy and the lips were chapped but Stiles found that he didn't care. It was a distraction and for a second, Stiles forgot to breathe.

Realising his plan was working, Scott began to move his lips inexperiencedly. He felt Stiles' shoulders slump and his body loosen up as he slowly calmed down, his lips moving with the same amount of uncertainty. 

Scott slowly pulled away but left his hands cupping Stiles' face.

"Did it work?" He asked, his eyes still full of worry.

Stiles gazed at him with a dumbfounded look. There was a light dusting of red on his cheeks, thankfully covered by Scott's hands. He nodded mutely as his lungs finally filled.

"Why did you kiss me?" He eventually asked, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

"You needed to hold your breath. I didn't know how else to do it." Scott suddenly looked sheepish now that his friend was okay again. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologise." Stiles grinned. "I should start having more panic attacks if that's what's gonna happen." He joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Scott rolled his eyes at the joking tone, letting his hands drop back to his sides. "Oh, shut up." He glared good naturedly before relaxing his face again. 

"Promise you're okay?"

"I promise. Thank you, Scott." Stiles suddenly looked embarrassed. Scott leaned in to hug him. 

"Don't be embarrassed. You've seen me have an asthma attack. Now we're even."

Stiles let out a laugh, his gangly arms coming up to wrap around his best friend.

"Can Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall please report to the principals office?"