Goner

Into this sound

Stiles was making to Totinos pizza when his stalker zombie wolf came into the house with a swoosh of his long coat.

Stiles was leaning on the counter and gives Peter a bitch face, "Really Peter? You don't live here, you could have, you know, knocked instead of just welcoming yourself into my house. What if I was naked?"

Peter raises an eyebrow and smirks before sneering, "Then I would have enjoyed the view."

Stiles stared at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. He had a nice rosy color along his cheeks and his ears burned as he blushed.

He glares and turns around pretending to check the pizza that was still thawing in the oven.

He hears Malia greet Peter, and Peter greet back. He turns and give Peter a side glance, Peter raised an eyebrow at him in question, Stiles just shrugs because if Peter's not going to say anything,  neither will he.

"So, is there any actual reason the two of you are sitting at my dining room table while I'm making you freezer pizza,  while I could be sleeping and wallowing in self pity?"

Peter gives him an amused look before replying, "It gets boring at my dear nephews loft and you are pretty much the only person in this god forsaken town I can stand."

Stiles looks at Malia then,  but she shrugs,  "Same."

Stiles signed and rolls his eyes. He rubs his temples because the haunting voice keeps whispering hateful things about Allison's death into his ears, and it's clouding up his brain.

He gets it: he's the reason for Allison's death. He's the reason her father will never get to see her in her graduation gown, never get to walk her down the Isle on her wedding day. Why Scott lost the first girl he ever loved, why Lydia lost a best friend.

Hell, Lydia lost two people that day. Her best friend and her boyfriend. He wondered how she could still stand to sit in the same room as him for school.

He couldn't believe Lydia hadn't smacked or punched him yet. She could have at any moment burst his eardrums with her scream and he would let her. He would let her do anything, and it wasn't even because he was in love with her.

He wasn't in love with her anymore. Actually he couldn't really feel anything but depression, anger and guilt these days. He wasn't sure when he stopped being in love with Lydia Martin. He never believed someone could fall out of love.

He wished they would do something. He wished that they wouldn't.

"..iles? STILES!" Someone calls him out of his thoughts.

He looks up at Peter who is crouching? When did he get on the floor?

Stiles was curled into a ball between the fridge and counter, holding his head in his hands.

"Stiles are you alright?" Malia asked from behind Peter who was looking at Stiles with a knowing look. Stiles could see swirling fury in his blue irises.

Why was Peter angry?

"W-what happened?" Stiles asks as Peter pulls him up and walks him to the table. Stiles noticed the older werewolf never removed his hand that was protectively around his waist, as if Stiles was going to collapse at any time and Peter had to hold him up.

Malia stared in worry, sitting across from him while Peter sat beside him, "You spaced out the started whispering about how it's all you fault, then fell to the floor, curled into a ball and moved to the corner... is that what was happening at Derek's yesterday?"

Stiles ignores her question as he thinks over what she'd said he'd done. He had a panic attack, and.... Peter helped him out of it. The only person who was able to help him when he got in an actual panic attack was his parents. That's why he counted to twenty and back, that's what his psychiatrist said to do to stop himself from going into one after his mother's death. He would have one all the time, and Scott would freak out not knowing what to do. He hasn't had one since the night after the whole Nogitsune thing was finally finished. His dad had to hold him and calm him down while he screamed and clawed attacks the sheriff's arms.