Torn

*trigger warning* this story has cutting & suicide references, if that triggers you, please don't read!

Stiles sat in his bathroom, holding a -recently sharpened- razor blade that he stole from his dad's razor. He slowly put the blade to his pale skin, on his thigh. He slowly moved the blade upwards, not too hard but he forced it enough to draw blood.

"Stiles?" Scott yelled as he ran in the front door and up the stairs.

"Shit, shit, shit," Stiles quietly hissed, "Umm hold on Scott, I'm in the bathroom." Stiles yelled as he rummaged through the bathroom vanity for a bandage. He found one and wrapped it around his thigh. He put on his track pants, and put his baggy hoodie, over his three layers of t-shirts. Trying to hide the affect that not eating had taken on him.

As Stiles walked out of the bathroom he said, "Scott what do you want - -" He was cut off by Scott, "Stiles help me." Scott was leaning in the doorway to Stiles' room, his t-shirt was ripped and it was soaked in blood. He had scratch marks all over him.

"Scott, what happened?! Why aren't you healing?" The concern was very close to being tangible in his voice, "Why did you come here and not go to Derek?"

"Because Derek did this to me!" Scott nearly roared in rage when he said -or rather, screamed- this.

"Why did Derek do this, Scott?" Stiles asked as he walked over to Scott. His leg was killing him for this, he helped Scott over to his bed. He sat Scott down and kneeled in front of him.

"Scott? Why did Derek do this to you? And why didn't you fight back? You are the Alpha, not him." Stiles said as Scott looked up at him, despair, sadness and anger all flooding his eyes.

"He said that- that you- were cutting your-self and you weren't eating." A tear rolled down his face. Stiles broke eye contact with Scott, he stood up, and he had his back to Scott. He had one hand on his hip and his other was brought up to his face, holding his forehead.

How did Derek know? How did he find out?

"Stiles? Are you okay? It's not true...right?" Scott said with concern and worry basically written all over his face.

"No, don't worry its not. I'll be back in a minute."

Stiles walked down the hallway, then stopped leaned against the wall, and slid down until he was sitting on the floor against the wall. He put is chin on his knees and just sat there, his arms hugging his legs. Tears ran down his face.

"Stiles? Are you okay?" Scott yelled from Stiles' bedroom.

"Umm yeah. I'll be there in a minute." Stiles yelled back as he stood up, wiped the tears from his eyes and walked to the bathroom.

He grabbed a needle and thread and a bandage, although he knew that when he got back Scott would probably already be on his way to recovery.

"Scott I got them- -" Stiles walked back into his room, to see Scott on his feet, shirtless, his bloody and ripped t-shirt was lying on Stiles' bed. Scott had healed fully. Scott was going through Stiles' dresser looking for a clean t-shirt.

Stiles walked in, sat the needle, thread and the bandage on his desk. He walked over to his bed and sat down. Then he remembered something, "Scott, don't look in there!" He said in a rush as he jumped to his feet.

"Stiles," Scott reached into a drawer of the dresser and picked something up, as he turned around to face Stiles he said, "What are these?

Stiles? Derek was right." Tears started rushing down his face. Stiles then realized what he was holding: 3 razor blades.

"Scott, it- its not what you think." A tear ran down his face. Stiles walked over to Scott and grabbed the 3 metallic objects.

"Stiles?" Scott started but was cut off by this own crying, "what- what are you doing to your self?"

"Scott, don't worry, I'm fine." Lying came easy to Stiles; he had been doing it for so long that it had became an instinct.

"No, you're not fine! Stiles, please..." Scott trailed off.

"Scott, can you just please leave?" Stiles looked down at the ground in guilt he just couldn't maintain eye contact with Scott.

Scott walked over to Stiles and gave him a hug. Stiles didn't do anything, he didn't hug Scott back but he didn't push Scott off either.

Scott walked towards the door, he stopped in the doorway, "I don't know what's going on, why you're doing this, but if you need me, you know where to find me." Stiles looked on as Scott walked out the door, and down the stairs.

"Scott? What's wrong? Are you okay?" Stiles heard his father question his best friend.

"Umm, I have to go." Was Scott's response.

Stiles stood frozen in his room until his father entered his room.

"Stiles? What wrong with Scott? Are you okay?" Stiles put his hands in the pocket of his hoodie to hide the blades from his father. Two of his pack already knew, he just couldn't handle his dad finding out.

Stiles walked over to his father and hugged him. Tears rushing down his face.

"Stiles? What's wrong?" The sheriff said as he hugged his son back. Tears were beginning to flow from his eyes.