Uniquely Normal

Battlefield

[Stiles' POV]

"You know when you're drowning, you don't actually inhale until right before you black out." I said to Morrell as I tightened the strings on my lacrosse stick. "It's called voluntary apnea. It's like no matter how much you're freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong, you don't open your mouth until you feel like your head's exploding. Then when you finally let it in, that's when it stops hurting. It's not scary anymore. It's actually kind of peaceful..."

"Are you saying you hope Matt felt some peace in his last moments?" Morrell asked.

I looked up from my lacrosse stick and stared at her pointedly. "I don't feel sorry for him."

"Can you feel sorry for the nine year old Matt who drowned?"

I sighed. "Just because a bunch of dumbasses dragged him into a pool when he couldn't swim doesn't really give him the right to go off killing them one by one."

I paused for a moment before adding to my statement. "And by the way, my dad told me they found a bunch of pictures of Allison on Matt's computer. Not just of her though, he photoshopped himself into them; stuff like them holding hands and kissing...you know, like he had built this whole fake relationship. So yeah, maybe drowning him when he was nine years old sent him off the rails, but the dude was definitely riding the crazy train."

Morrell just stared at me. "One positive thing came out of this, though. Right?"

I thought back to my dad receiving his Sherriff's badge at the crime seen where Matt was found.

"Yeah." I said. "Yeah, but I still feel like there's something wrong between us. I don't know, it's just like there's tension when we talk. Same thing with Scott."

"Have you talked to him since that night?"

I shook my head as I messed with my lacrosse stick. "No, not really. I mean, he's got his own problems to deal with, though. I don't think he's talked to Allison, either. But that might be more her choice, you know? Her mom dying hit her pretty hard. But I guess that brought her and her dad closer. Jackson hasn't really been himself lately. Actually, the funny thing is, as of right now, Lydia is the one who seems the most normal."

Morrell nodded. "What about [y/n]?"

I paused at the mention of her name. We hadn't really talked since that night.

I pulled up to [y/n]'s house and parked the car in her driveway. I sighed and turned to look at her as she stared out her window.

"You okay?" I asked her gently.

She turned her head but avoided eye contact with me. "I'll be fine."

I nodded, then leaned over to press a soft but long kiss on her cheek. I pulled away and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into me, sighing in content. She rested her head on my shoulder and I leaned my cheek against her forehead.

We sat in comfortable silence before she spoke.

"By the way," she said quietly, just above a whisper. "I kinda dug holes into your sleeves."

She brought her arms up to show me the small holes on the ends of the sleeves of my shirt. I furrowed my eyebrows at them, but shrugged it off.

"It's fine." I reassured her. "You can keep it."

She met my eyes and softly smiled. "Really?" I nodded and she let out a chuckle.

"Just know you won't get it back." She said. "Like ever." We laughed together and I shook my head.