kiss you // S.S.

Chapter thirty-two: cold room, warm hands

XXXII

Hospitals had a way of shrinking you, even when you were already trying to disappear. Stiles was sitting on a bench just outside the ER, hunched forward, flannel sleeves stretched to cover his hands. His leg bounced too fast to be casual, and his eyes kept drifting to the scuffed tile, counting the flecks of beige in the linoleum just to keep his mind from going places it didn't want to go.

Leo spotted him before the automatic doors even finished opening.

He didn't hesitate. Crossed the concrete in a few quick strides, heart pulled tight in his chest. He'd changed clothes before arriving quickly, rinsed the blood off his hands, swapped the torn hoodie for something that didn't scream just got out of a fight in the woods. None of that mattered now though. None of it ever did when Stiles looked like this.

When he finally reached him, Stiles glanced up and tried for levity. "You didn't have to actually come all the way here, you know."

Leo sat beside him, close enough that their knees brushed. His voice was gentle, but immediate. "You say that like I ever listen to anything that isn't your voice."

That got him a breath. Just a little exhale, not quite a laugh. But the moment it passed, the weight settled back in.

"I saw her," Stiles said, eyes back on the sidewalk, like he couldn't bear to look anywhere else. "Heather."

Leo didn't say anything. He didn't need to. His hand found Stiles's, fingers sliding in with an easy kind of familiarity, grounding.

"When Melissa showed me the body earlier, it was just part of the pattern. Same injuries. Same savagery. I didn't even realize who I was looking at until she turned the sheet back." His throat worked around the memory. "I knew her since pre-k. She was loud and terrible at keeping secrets. She—" He cut himself off. Shook his head. "Doesn't matter. I'm not here to mourn Heather."

Leo tilted toward him, voice quiet but certain. "You're allowed to feel everything, Stiles. Even if it's complicated."

"That's the thing," Stiles whispered, almost as if it was a confession. "It's not even about that. I need to see them again. I missed something. There's something we're not seeing."

Leo studied him for a long moment. "Then we look. Together."

Stiles didn't answer, just leaned into the side of him slightly, like gravity decided Leo was the safer option to collapse against. The hospital door hissed open behind them.

Melissa McCall stepped out, concern already written across her brow. "Hey, Stiles." She gave Leo a nod, a quiet acknowledgment that didn't need words. "You sure about this?"

Stiles stood slowly, jaw clenched, shoulders stiff but steady. "I need to look again. There's something I didn't catch before."

Melissa gave him a long, assessing look, then simply said, "Okay. Come with me."