Hunger

Chapter Twenty

(So I accidentally published 21 instead of 20, so if you read that, sorry. Here's your second update this week, but no more until the next Monday.)

Stiles

I wasn't prepared to walk through that door, to face Will. I wasn't prepared for all of the tears and screaming and denial from Will. I wasn't ready. I walked extremely slow towards the door, Liam right beside me, each step slower than the last, but heavier too. None of spoke on the way back. No one knew what to say, or how to react. There was nothing that could be done to make us feel any better. Charlie was dead, and he didn't deserve it. He was just a kid, with a full life a head of him.

I walked inside first, followed by Liam. Derek was behind us, and as soon as Will walked into the room, Derek lost it again. He began to sob, shaking his head furiously as he back up to the corner of the room. Will only looked confused, raising an eyebrow at me. "What's going on? Where's my brother?"

"Will," I started, taking a large breath. I knew the tears were about to come, for Will and I, because Charlie was my friend and Will is too, and I can't handle things like this very well. "Will, something happened," I admitted slowly. I reached for his wrist and led him over to the couch, urging him to sit down.

"What's wrong? Just tell me where Charlie is!" he demanded, eyes darting furiously between the three of us. He drew his eyebrows together and parted his lips slightly. "Stiles, what happened?" He looked so confused, and I couldn't muster up the strength. I just couldn't.

"Will, I'm so sorry," I tried to say out loud, but it was more of a whisper. I took a large breath, and let it out, despite the shakiness. Will opened his mouth to say something, but shook his head instead. "Will, Charlie's gone," I said softly, reaching for his shoulder. I barely made contact with him before he jerked away forcefully, eyes narrowed.

"What the hell did you just say?" he spat angrily, abruptly standing up and kicking the couch. "You can't be serious! You're joking, aren't you? Charlie can't be dead! HE CAN'T BE DEAD, STILES!" Will's hands flew up into the air before landing on top of his head, tugging at his hair. I didn't know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut. Will paced back and forth quickly. Finally, he looked at Derek. "This is your fault," he spat, and then he was gone, leaving Derek standing there with his jaw dropped to the floor.

"Derek, I--" I started, but Derek turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. With an exasperated sigh, I pushed back the urge to cry and hesitantly followed after Derek. I should've gone after Will, really, because it was his brother who had been murdered, but I couldn't leave Derek like that. I needed to make sure he was okay, and that would give Will time to calm down a bit.

"Get out," Derek ordered intimidatingly. I jumped at his voice, but shut the door behind me anyways. I inhaled sharply and slowly took one step forward. "Stiles, I said get out!" Derek practically screamed, but I didn't listen. I knew he was hurting and I couldn't leave him alone like this. He was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands, and his knees tucked up against his body.

"Derek, are you okay?" I asked, and I knew it was a stupid question, but I didn't know how else to start. I took three more steps, now about three feet from the bed. Derek gradually raised his head, and I could see the tears rolling down his cheeks, and the redness of his eyes from all of the crying. He sniffed and shook his head slowly. "Derek," I whispered softly, and then I didn't care about anything other than holding him, so I crawled into the bed and pulled his head into my lap. His fingers grasped tightly at my pant legs, and now he was sobbing again.