Sterek One Shots

The Depressed Nerd And His Bullies

Trigger: Self Harm, Bullying, Suicide attempt.
*Don't worry, happy ending. I don't like writing sad themed stories with sad endings.
••••
Stiles' Pov

I woke up this morning with a large smile on my face, then I realized I have to go to school, and all my happiness, or at least my not depressed thoughts, drained out of me and I slowly made my way out of bed. I make my way over to my dresser, picking out a t-shirt and some jeans, then grabbing a sweatshirt from my closet. I throw on my sweatshirt, making sure my cuts from last night are covered.
Yea, I'm that kid. I cut my skin open and watch as I bleed. I'm depressed and have social anxiety. I get panic attacks and I'm also bullied like there's no tomorrow at school by pretty much everyone. No one actually likes me, Scott did once though. So did my old friends (Boyd, Erica, Lydia, Issaac, Jackson, Allison, Derek, etc.) that he still hangs out with. In the ninth grade, I told my friends that I was depressed, also that I have social anxiety and I'm prone to panic attacks. After I told them that, they decided they didn't want to deal with all that and left. It started off just them making plans without me, or not involving me in conversations. But then, they just stopped talking to me at all. They left me all alone. After that, when I asked what I did wrong, they all just laughed saying I was a freak, and nobody actually liked me. They started picking on me briefly, which eventually turned into them completely bullying me.
That did absolutely no good to my depression and anxiety whatsoever, so now I cut open my skin every night, usually whenever I get really stressed out. The occasional suicidal thought flutters by from time to time, and sadly I've acted on them.
I make my way downstairs and sit down at the kitchen table. My dad left out a bowl, spoon, and a box of cereal for me when he got home from work earlier this morning. I sit down in the chair and poor a tiny bit of cereal into the bowl. I'm doing what I can to loose weight, that way they'll stop calling me fat. When I started I weighed 165 pounds, now I'm down to 110. Hopefully I can manage to get thin enough for them.
I eat my breakfast, though I'm done in 3 spoonfuls, and place my bowl in the sink before grabbing my backpack and heading out to my jeep. I climb in the front seat and start on my way to school. I park my jeep and head towards the school, and unfortunately I have to walk past the group to get there.
"Hey loser! How's your whore of a mom?" Scott yells and I have to hold back the tears. My mom died of cancer shortly after they started picking on me. They don't know that. They don't know that she's 6 feet underground and that I spent a month crying in my room and wondering what I did to deserve my life. They don't need to know that though.
"Maybe your dad will let you borrow one of his pistols so you can kill yourself in one blow!" Jackson yells and I just sigh and continue walking. I make it to my locker and grab my books for my first class. I head to my class early and take my seat. The bell rings and in comes the rest of the class including Derek, Scott, Jackson, Lydia, and Isaac. They take their seats at the back of the classroom and I can feel their smirks staring at me.
"Ok class!" Mr. Hambrock says and picks up a stack of papers.
"Today you'll be getting an assignment and you'll have to work with a partner....who I've already decided for you!" He says with a slight smirk.
"Ok! So we'll have Lydia and Jackson, Scott and Isaac, Lisa and Tom," he goes on and on before getting to my name.
"Stiles and Derek." He announces and I feel my heart skip a beat. "Now this will be due this Friday so you'll have to work outside of school. Now discuss with your partner about where you're meeting and when, and then get what you can started!" I gulp before looking back at Derek. He doesn't look pleased but the others are laughing and pointing at him. Little does he know that I have a huge crush on him! I make no effort to move and just sit reading over the project. I see the chair beside me get pulled out and hear a grumpy huff before Derek speaks.
"I'll be at your place at 6. You plan, I'll just help do research or whatever." Derek states and I nod slightly. I look down at my hands before noticing that one of my sleeve has rolled up. I look up at Derek and he is staring at all my visible scars and fresh cuts. I fake a cough and pull down my sleeve quickly before looking up at him again.
"You can go back to your friends. I'll start planning." I mumble quietly. He slowly gets up from his seat and makes his way back to his desk, but I can feel his gaze on me still, and it's sort of freaking me out. The bell rings and I quickly gather up my stuff before rushing out of the classroom.
•••••
I sit down at one of the empty lunch tables in the cafeteria right in the corner. I watch as everyone else has someone, anyone, to talk to, spend the 50 minutes we have to eat with. I have no one. Everyone I once was friends with are all sitting at a table in the opposite side of the room as me, probably laughing and making fun of me. I quickly finish my lunch, (half of an apple), and make my way outside to a tree in front of the school. I slide around to the side where I know no one can see me, and pull out my phone. I take of the case and pull out the shiny piece of metal hidden between it and the phone. I sit there and pull up my left sleeve of my hoodie. I make a few quick slices before the bell rings and head back inside to my next classes.
•••••
It's 6 o'clock and Derek will be here any minute now. I cleaned up my room a little bit. I've been planning out how to do this project and I have it all figured out.
The doorbell rings and I slowly get up to answer it.
"H-hi, come on in." I say barely above a whisper.
"My dad's at work so we're here alone. I hope that's ok." I mumble and he nods.
"Yea. It's fine." Derek says clearly bored.
"Sorry. Let's go up to my room. I know you probably don't want to be here any longer than you have to be." I sigh and head for the stairs, Derek right behind me. I lead him into my room and head over to start up my laptop.
I tell him what to search up and he does actually work. We're about 2 pages done when he stands up and takes a break. He wonders around my room looking at all the pictures on my walls.
"Who's this?" Derek asks looking at a picture of my mom I took before she lost her hair to Chemo.
"That's my mom." I smiles slightly and turn back to my computer.
"She's very pretty. Where's she? I know your dad's working, what about your mom?" Derek asks and I feel my stomach drop.
"She's not here. She's at the graveyard." I say quietly.
"Gardener or tomb digger?" Derek asks and I shake my head.
"I didn't say that correctly. She's in the graveyard. I took that picture before her first Chemo treatment. She didn't make it." I whisper tears welling up in my eyes.
"Stiles- Oh my God. Your mom-she, she's-" he stutters but I cut him off.
"She's dead." I nod.
"Stiles! I'm so sorry! We didn't know!" Derek apologizes but I shake my head.
"You weren't supposed to know." I say starting to cry.
"Stiles." Derek says and walks over to me.
"No, it's fine. Just please don't tell the others. I'm begging you." I ask and he nods.
"I promise I won't." He whispers and gives me a gentle smile.
"Thank you." I whisper back and he moves to pack up his laptop.
"Before I go, I need to ask you something." Derek asks and I sigh but nod.
"You cut?" He gives me a questioning look and I sigh but nod.
"Why?" He asks and I roll my eyes before looking him straight in the eyes.
"Seriously Derek?! You have to ask me why I cut?! You want to know why I slice my wrists open every night?! Because my so called friends thought it'd be a great idea to ditch me, and bully me like there's no tomorrow!! If that happened to you, you'd cut too!" I yell at him tears now streaming down my face.
"Stiles-"
"No Derek! I tried to come clean to you guys about my mental health, and it got me nowhere! Just goes to show you can't trust anyone." I spat at him and get up from my seat, heading over to my window, facing away from him.
"Just go home. I'll be fine." I mutter and I hear him get up, but I'm not expecting him to walk towards me.
"Stiles, please." He whispers placing a hand on my shoulder.
"Please what Derek?" I ask spinning around, gasping at how close we are right now. We're standing pretty much nose to nose and my breathing picks up.
"Just- just be quiet for a second." He whispers before gently connecting our lips and placing a hand on my waist. I gasp before slowly kissing him back. He places his other hand on my waist too as I slowly bring my hands up to cup his face. He presses his lips harder against mine and deepens the kiss altogether. I feel his tongue swipe my bottom lip and I accidentally let a moan slip out. This seems to break him out of whatever trance he was in and he quickly pulls away from me.
"Stiles. I'm not gay. This never happened! Got it?!" He threats the last part and I quickly nod my head. He grabs his bag and run out of my house, slamming the front door in the process.
I break down sobbing as I realize that I don't mean anything to him. My crush just kissed me out of pity, not because he actually likes me. How could I have been such a fool?
I make my way into my bathroom and pull out one of my blades from the cabinet. I peel off my shirt which is now soaked with my tears and sit down against my tub. I quickly swipe it across my wrist and the sting feels amazing. I deserve this! I'm nothing but a loser no one will ever love. By the end of the night I likely have made about 20 cuts on both arms, the pain almost like a high for me. I rinse off my blade and put it back in its place. I wipe up all the spilt blood and flush the toilet paper down the toilet. No evidence. No problems.
•••••
I walk into the school the next day and make it to my locker without a run in with the group. I open my locker quickly and grab my books for my first class. It's too quiet around here, so instead of heading to class early, I walk around trying to see if something is going on. I instantly regret my decision when I find the group hanging out by one of their lockers.
"Stiles! Hey! Come with us for a second!" Lydia smirks and I turn around to leave.
I run right into Boyd who drags me outside with them.
Scott smirks before stepping in front of me.
"So, you kissed Derek last night?" He asks and I shake my head.
"No! That's not what happened!" I object but he just rolls his eyes. I glance at Derek and his face is full of guilt.
"Well Derek said that you kissed him last night. And he's not gay, so that means you're the fag." Scott chuckles evilly before punching me in the gut.
"Also, we know your moms dead. She probably deserved it. Probably a client gone wrong if you know what I mean." Jackson laughs and I start to cry.
Boyd lets go of my arm and I step in front of Derek.
"You promised." Is all I say before turning and quickly walking away from them.
•••••
It's been two weeks since Derek told everyone about my mom and the kiss, and my life is now at its lowest point. I make it a daily routine to go to school, come home, not eat, and then fill my bathtub with my blood.
I make my way to my locker since it's the end of the day when Jackson throws me up against the lockers.
He starts to punch me in the gut and I fall to the floor. Him and the rest of the guys continue to beat me until I hear them telling me to go kill myself.
"Cut deeper faggot!"
"Go join your whore of a mom!"
"You're a loser."
"Nobody wants you here!"
They laugh and I start to cry but Derek's sticks out the most.
"Why don't you just go kill yourself already?" He asks and they stop the beating.
I slowly stand up and face them.
"I will gladly go kill myself. I'll see you all in hell." I laugh sadly and feel the blood from the cuts they reopened trickle down my arms.
"You guys just helped me become one step closer to dead." I chuckle as I roll up my sleeve to reveal my numerous cuts on top of cuts. I see Lydia, Isaac and Erica gasp and I smirk.
"What? Never seen a cutter before? Or did you think that was made up?" I question them. "Well take a good long look at what you guys caused! I'm so done with all of this shit! You guys were my friends! I trusted you guys. And now I'm scared to come to school. Do you know how many time I've already tried to kill myself? 13, 13 times now I've tried to kill myself! And it was because of you guys! And to clarify, my mom died of cancer, not a client gone wrong." I scream and cry at them.
Scott looks actually shocked and I shake my head.
"It was fun while it lasted guys, but my time is up. Let's hope attempt 14 is a winner." I say quietly and turn around to head out to my jeep. I hop in and speed to my house, pretty much running up to my room.
"Stiles?!" My dad yells and I sigh.
"Yea?" I reply.
"Are you alright?" He asks.
"Yea! I'm fine! I'm just kinda tired and I really just want to sleep right now. I love you!" I call back, nearly breaking down into sobs at the fact that that's the last time I'll ever say that to him. I lock my bedroom door and head into my bathroom. I pull out my pain meds and unscrew the lid. I swallow them down one by one, my throat already starting to feel dry. I grab my razor from the cabinet and sit against the bathtub like so many times before.
I start slashing at my arms, adding more and more cuts to the collection, which of course means more blood flowing out. It's amazing how much red is spreading and gushing out of my arms.
I feel my eyes begin to droop but I continue to cut my arms. Eventually I feel my body go limp, and the blade falls out of my hand.
•••••
Derek's Pov