Teen Wolf X-Reader

Chapter 27

Previously:  His breath quickened, a panic attack perhaps? You ripped the knife from his hand, drips of blood getting all over his nice grey shirt. He would be mad about that later. His eyes were watering, tears then dripping down his cheeks.

What was happening?

-

He looked at you so frightened. His face went white, his eyes soft and innocent now. You grabbed a cloth napkin from the table, wiping the blood from your hands, and the tears from his eyes. 

"What the fuck was I doing? Did I hurt you?" His eyes darted all around your body.

"It isn't me you should be worrying about Stiles." 

Eventually, when he calmed down and he knew what happened, you blew out the candles and cleaned up the mess. The two of you finished your meal, no matter if the steaks were slightly cold. So many things went through your mind. Was it really him that tried to make that choice? Why himself, what would tempt him to make himself... disappear? If it had not been him in his mind, who or what was? 

He could tell you were pondering the options, "I'm sorry." he blurted out. Your face changed, not understanding why he said it. 

"There is no way that you could blame yourself for this. You had obviously been unaware of what you were doing. Do not take the blame for your actions just now." You said, sternly.  His breaths somewhat quicken as you lectured him. "Just know that this is something bigger than you or I, but together perhaps we can beat it?" you added, feeling bad about lecturing him. 

"Let's see Deaton."

Later that day after cleaning the rest of the bloody mess, the table, and dishes, you got new clothes and found Stiles sitting on the bed. He stared at the wall aimlessly. His eyebrow twitched, he didn't notice you so you continued watching him. Finally, enough was enough.

"Stiles." With no response, you tried again.

Tears started flowing, his eyes focused on the same spot on the wall that was slightly caved in. His breathing was null and his eyes no longer looked to be his own.

"Stiles?.." You got your phone out and dialed Scott immediately, scared for not only his well-being but your own. Physically there was no way Stiles could win against you in a fight, but mentally you weren't sure if you could handle this situation alone.

"Scott, I need help. It's Stiles, he's acting very strange and ghostly. He doesn't seem to be himself at all. Come to the house?"

"Woah wait-?"

"Now please, can you get your ass over here?" you pleaded

"Give me there minutes, open his bedroom window."

Your phone call ended, meanwhile, Stiles has now stood up, his fists clenched and breathing heavy. Before you could take a breath he started hitting the wall, his fluffy hair softly drooping in front of his face. A hole formed and you stood back in shock, having no idea what to do. You opened the window and hoped Scott arrived sooner rather than later.

"Stiles, please stop." He kept going, recklessly while his hand bled. "Stiles." You were getting angry.

"STILES." You yelled, fangs out and voice growling.

Not more than a minute later, with Stiles in a corner scared out of his mind, and you attempting to control your anger spur, Scott arrived.

"I heard that from a few miles away, (Y/N), jesus."