Building Up From Pieces

Cold rooms

Scott looked himself in the mirror-like it was the first time he did it in a long time. Tracing the bruises and cuts from his face with his fingers. They hurt more than they should and were taking more time to heal than usual. Maybe werewolves' powers slow down a little after you die and come back to life. But how would he know? The last time it happened he wasn't this messed up.

He didn't want to be alone now, but Melissa was called in the hospital and he insisted for her to go. Even though she knew he was hurt, he was getting mad when she insisted to stay, so she just left.

After she left, the hole inside Scott just got bigger and bigger.

He had lost his girlfriend, his friends' trust, and had been killed by his own Beta. And even worse than that he might have lost his best friend forever.

He and Stiles haven't talked for more than a full day now, and that didn't happen often. Not with Stiles.

After looking at himself in the mirror for almost half an hour, he remembered that his mom didn't have dinner, and he owned her that much, no, he owned her a lot more than that, but dinner was a start.

He changed clothes, grabbed his key cars, and went off to buy dinner, like a normal teenage boy, who didn't die and came back a few hours ago.

***

Stiles didn't know what to do, at all. Panic was taking over him as he covered his dad's wound to stop the bleeding. He thought about calling an ambulance, but he felt like the words wouldn't come out of his mouth if he tried to talk. maybe he could try to take his dad to the emergency room himself, but what if he didn't get there on time. He would be an orphan with less than 20 years old, but he couldn't let himself think of that, he just couldn't.

But no matter what he knew that he had to figure something out quickly, his dad was getting pale and Stiles was doing a pretty bad job on stopping the bleeding.

Stiles pressed with one of his hands on his father's wound and grabbed his cell phone with the other. But desperately assuring his dad he was gonna be okay. They were gonna be okay.

He punched in the numbers with his shaking hand so fast he couldn't believe he got it all three of it right. As the beeping started his anxiety was taking control of his whole body, but he needed to concentrate, he needed to save his dad.

A woman picked up the phone. He didn't remember much of what he said, but he must have got the words right because seconds later she said an ambulance was on the way.

With that Stiles could drop his phone and use both hands to cover the wound. His dad's eyes were still open, and he was trying to make up a smile, even with the amount of pain that he was in, he wanted his son to calm down.

The Sheriff wanted his son to be alright too, he was tired of being the one Stiles had to save. He was almost mad at him for finding him, for having his son saving his life for the second time.

Stiles mumbled words of comfort for his dad to calm down, but he didn't realize he was actually trying to calm himself down too. They treated looks and smiles, but it felt like he was losing him. And for the second time in his life, he was terrified.

He heard the sounds of the sirens in what it felt like hours. The minutes after that were a blur. He felt petrified while the paramedics did their jobs. He joined them in the back of the ambulance and didn't dare to let go of his father's hands for even a second.

When they got to the hospital he knew he was gonna be stopped somewhere near the door, but he followed them anyway. Luckily he was stopped by warm, comfortable hands which belonged to Melissa McCall. She actually didn't know who to help, she knows that she needed to help the Sheriff, but she'd never seen Stiles in such horror. She followed the doctors a few steps ahead to make sure they had it all under control, she could come in to help in a few minutes.

She came running back to Stiles who was running around in circles in the emergency room. She placed a hand in his shoulder and he jumped with the touch, so fast that she got scared herself. She looked at him with warmful eyes, he would have appreciated it if he wasn't too busy trying to calm himself down. He was doing a pretty shitty job at that.