I'm fine. |stiles stilinski•

Part 18

"Any news on your scan yet?" Derek asks as he enters my room. I look at the floor.

"Nope. I find out in a few days." I mumble, staring at the way my feet are overlapping each other.

"You okay?" He asks, sitting beside me.

"Yeah, it's just... Scott offered me... The bite." I say, lifting my head and looking at Derek, who's biting his nail but nodding.

"And what did you say?" He asks.

"I said no. I wanna die a human, live a human. I don't wanna be a werewolf." I say, locking my eyes in his. He furrows his eyes brows and sighs.

"I never knew that." He says, looking away.

"Knew what?"

"You hate the idea of being supernatural so much, you'd rather die." Says Derek. Although he probably didn't mean it, his words come out like bullets; wounding me.

"Look, no one said anything about dying, okay? Nah-ah. I'm gonna fight my puny little human ass off until I beat this. Okay? So, nothing to worry about." I say in my usual sarcastic tone. Derek chuckles dryly.

He goes serious again very quickly.

"What happens if- and only if your scan results come back bad?" Says Derek, which once again makes me consider death.

"Well, then, I guess I'll just die..." I say, shrugging.

Derek stands up.

"Stiles that's ridiculous! You're willing to die, Stiles! Die! How do you think that'll leave the rest of us feeling? Because if you die, I will literally go crazy!" Yells Derek.

When he finishes shouting he turns his back and rests his head in his arms against the door.

I feel my throat go very dry, and for once, I have no words.

"I'm sorry." I eventually whisper, my voice just a croak. Derek slowly turns around.

"Please, Stiles. Please just take the fricken bite." He quietly pleads in his desperation filled voice, his face crumpled and his eyes teary.

"I can't, Derek. Yes, I know it sounds crazy, and stupid, and ridiculous. But yes, I would rather let the cancer kill me than take the stupid ass bite and become a monster. Because what if I can't control it, Derek? Scott's Scott, he's good at these things- but me? I'm stupid, and wreckless, and I'm scared that I'm gonna hurt someone." I say.

"We'll help you!" Derek says frustratedly.

"I might not want your help!" I yell. And I clutch my chest for a second because the shouting hurt, and I sit still for a moment, just focusing on a point in front of me.

"Stiles, you okay?!" Derek says, rushing towards me.

"I'm fine." I mutter, lying down on the bed, my hand still grasping my chest.

"What was that?" Asks Derek, stroking my arm.

"Nothing, I'm fine." I murmer, though the searing pain in my chest still lingers.

"You're lying." He says, placing his hand over my heart. Fuck. His arms line with black veins as he relieves me from the pain.

"Thank you." I whisper, shutting my eyes.