Stiles knew the pack was distant, and for good reason, but he ignored it, they were the only family he had, he did have his father, but he was always at work, providing for them, but what happens when two vampires save him and claim that he can help...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
"You know when you're drowning you don't actually inhale until right before you black out. It's called voluntary apnea. It's like no matter how much you're freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won't open your mouth until you feel like your head's exploding. Then when you finally do let it in, that's when it stops hurting. It's not scary anymore, it's... it's actually kind of peaceful." The whiskey-eye boy spoke monotonously, looking at the therapist who sat in front of him.
The therapist wrote on her clipboard, then she looked up at the boy. "Do you feel like that? Like you're drowning?"
The boy shrugs, leaning back on the very uncomfortable plastic chair. "Depends on the situation, sometimes I feel like I can't breathe at times like the memories of what I did still haunt me."
The therapist nods. "You were controlled, Stiles, none of it is your fault, you were saving Malia." She spoke calmly.
"But more people died because I wasn't strong enough," Stiles retorts, his hand shooting up and wiping his eyes.
"No one would have been strong enough, no matter what you did, someone would have gotten hurt. That being your father, Scott, Melissa, Malia, Lydia, you," The therapist continues.
"I rather be the one who got hurt, then I won't feel this guilt," Stiles admits.
"Maybe, but others would've felt the guilt. No matter what you do, Stiles, someone in some way will feel guilty or hurt," The therapist writes on her clipboard. "How are you feeling besides the drowning?"
"I'm fine. Yeah, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant overwhelming crushing fear that something terrible is about to happen." Stiles answers, his leg bouncing.
"It's called hypervigilance. The persistent feeling of being under threat also comes from what you have been through in the past," She says.
"It's not just a feeling though. It's like it's a panic attack. You know, I can't even breathe. Like I'm drowning," Stiles looks up at her, obviously seeing how the topic went back to the previous conversation.
The therapist nods, writing one more thing before she lets out a sigh. "From what I'm hearing, you need to be around your friends more, make sure you know that none of this is your fault. Maybe visit Allison's grave, talk to her, get ease," She says, getting up.
Stiles doesn't answer, he just gets up and nods, heading for the door.
"Until next time, Stiles," She calls out, sighing as the boy leaves the room.
It didn't take long for Stiles to make it outside where his father was waiting. Stepping into the passenger seat of the sheriff cruiser, Stiles lets out a sigh.
