Stiles Stilinski Imagines

Ch. 14 - Donovan

ATTENTION!!! ATTENTION!!! If you read the title and was like uhhhhh who the heck is that then I highly suggest you skip this imagine, because it contains spoilers about Stiles from Season 5 Part B..... I mean the season has been over for a while now, but I don't want to spoil anything for anyone who isn't caught up yet! You can read if you want to tho :-)

But if you haven't then by all means read! I hope you enjoy ;-)

I was sitting on my window seat, staring out into the night while sipping some of my tea. I checked the clock to notice it had just turned one o'clock. Time flies when you get lost in your thoughts. I was just about to go back to bed when I saw Stiles walking down my street towards my house. What the hell... Where is his jeep?

I slip on my slippers and walk down the stairs. My arms pushed behind my head as I fought back a yawn. I hadn't realized that sitting there in one position for so long would cause such a strain on my muscles. Then again that's just common sense.

I grab my coat off the rack next to my door and open it stepping out into the chilly night air. I search for Stiles and notice that he is just sitting on my curb holding his head in his hands. As I approach him, I notice that there is blood stain on his shoulder and a wrench resting beside him.

I pick up the wrench and watch as he looks up at me with sorrow and desperation. I look down at the tool and notice it has a coat of blood resting on it. I meet his eyes once again as I ask, "What's happened?" He just shakes his head and looks down.

"Stiles..." I say nervously. He just continues to stare down at the pavement as if it holds the key to the existence of supernatural. "Stiles." I say again with more confidence. I watch as he continues to sit there and stare for another good ten minutes. Me standing there staring at him as he sat there staring at the ground. I honestly thought he wouldn't say anything and we would be out here all night. His voice startled me once he did open his mouth. His voice was shaky and sounded as if he had been crying for hours. I know I should be understanding and patient, but the words - or should I say word - that flew out of his mouth ticked me off.

"Nothing." Was his short reply.

I fought back my sarcastic replies knowing this was not the time to be an ass. I moved the wrench out of the way as I took a seat next to him.

"You know you can tell me anything. I am your best friend." I tell him as I reach out and grab his hand. I was surprised at how calming and sweet my voice sounded when I was agitated just a few moments ago. I heard him sigh guiltily as he pulled his hand away. I tried not to frown since he has never done that, but I couldn't help it.

He ignored the look on my face as he continued to get up and walk down the street. What the hell just happened? He shows up at my house at one in the morning with blood on his shoulder and quite possibly a murder weapon then just leaves after I try to comfort him.

"Stiles!" I yell but he continues walking. What is it with him and ignoring tonight? I run to him and walk backwards as I face his front trying to keep his pace. He finally stops after I continue to walk in front of him.

"What do you want y/n?" He asks annoyed. I hold an eye roll as I reply back, "I want to know what the hell is wrong?"

He finally meets my eyes and I can see how much hurt and guilt is filled in them. I cup his cheeks as I tell him once again, "You can tell me anything. I won't judge or hate."

He laughed sourly at this as he pulled his hands off my face and gave me a hard look. "I have a girlfriend." Is he joking right now? Please tell me I am being punked.

"No shit! I am trying to be your best friend right now." I yell as softly as possible so I won't wake any of the neighbors. He glares at me as he speaks with such venom I can't even seem to recognize this boy.