Scott McCall oneshots

Selfish Hate (Scott + Stiles)

"You trusted him, so where were you?!"

Scott could hear Stiles yelling, could hear the doctors shouting, but the words began to slur and fade as he felt his back hit the wall and then the floor. He couldn't make out what was being said but he could guess. The sound of the Sherriff's heart monitor broke through the buzzing in Scott's ears. He knew exactly what was being said. 

He felt the same dizzy feeling he had felt when he had passed out earlier. His eyesight blurred until he could only make out the silhouette of Stiles above him. He could feel his wound reopening with the hits his once best friend nailed him with. He felt dizzy and disconcerted. 

He could've mustered his last bit of strength and pushed Stiles off, but he didn't. He didn't fight back because he knew he deserved this. It was all his fault; Hayden, Lydia, the Sherriff. Stiles knew it too. 

Stiles had every right to hurt him.

So he didn't say or do anything. 

But he felt. He felt everything. He could feel the pure rage and sorrow pulsing off Stiles, the worry and anger from his mother, his own self-loathing. He felt blinded by his emotions, the main one being hurt. 

The wound on his chest pulsed and throbbed with pain. He could feel his body trying to heal only to tear apart again. It was agonising. It was a constant reminder that he had died. Theo had lacerated his organs, he had killed him. Scott had been dead and no one even noticed. He tried to remind himself that it wasn't their fault, he had drove them away. This was on him, all of it was on him. It was his fault. Everything was his fault. He was the reason he was bleeding. 

The blood was making an obvious stain on his shirt, one that Stiles easily brushed off.

For a moment, a split second, Scott hated him. 

"Oh, you'll heal."

The words rung in his ears. He'll heal. He knew he would but Stiles didn't even stop to question why he hadn't. Didn't stop to think how the last time he didn't heal he had momentarily stopped breathing and Allison had to stitch him up.

Allison was his fault as well. 

He deserved everything he got.

He felt completely disconnected from who he once saw as a brother, who he still did see as a brother. But he knew Stiles didn't feel the same. 

Scott was used to having a dysfunctional family. 

He watched as Stiles' face twisted at the thought of Lydia being hurt. Scott pushed down the hatred he suddenly felt for her too. He didn't hate Lydia, he loved her. But he hated that Stiles reacted to her being hurt and not to him. He felt worthless. 

It reminded him of how his mother had rushed off to work after he had died, and of less than an hour ago, when Parrish had found him. He hadn't strived for an answer to why Scott had passed out because Lydia was more important. Everyone was more important than Scott, it was what he had conditioned himself to believe. 

He wanted to grab Stiles' shoulders and shake him. He wanted to teleport them back to the library. He wanted to show Stiles his lifeless corpse. He wanted to make him feel the same hollow feeling in his chest that he had felt after Theo had ripped his claws out. He wanted him to hurt like Scott did. Like Scott had been hurting since the bite. He didn't want to hide anymore. He wanted to scream and kick and shout and let everyone know how much pain he was in. How terrible he felt everyday. 

He wanted them to know how relieved he had felt as his heart gave its last beat.

Wanted them to know the sense of dread and guilt and despair he felt when it gave its first.

It occurred to him only when he was in the elevator that Stiles hadn't known he was hurt when he had first attacked him. Stiles had attacked an alpha werewolf without even knowing he had a chance. He had attacked Scott because he knew that Scott wouldn't fight back. He had wanted to hurt Scott, knew he would. 

Scott's breath hitched and he wrapped his jacket around his front tightly. He felt truly helpless. He was alone and hurt. 

He wished his mother hadn't been the one to find him. 

He wished he had escaped all of this. 

It was a selfish thought, people needed him. 

But Scott wanted to be selfish for once, even if only in his head. 

He wanted it to end.

He wanted to be dead. 

And he wanted his old pack to feel guilty and pained because of it.