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It had been 6 hours since the fight with Theo and the Dread Doctors, and Scott sat in the waiting room of the hospital, waiting on news. The fight that ended when Theo fired a wolfsbane bullet at Scott. Stiles pushed the wolf out of the way, and took the bullet himself. In his blind rage, Scott tackled Theo and ripped the chimera’s throat out with his bare hands.
The only thing that brought Scott back from the brink was the faint heartbeat he heard in the chaos. He looked back and saw Stiles lying on his side, curled up, still breathing.
Scott ran over to his best friend, and gently rolled him over on his back. He looked the boy over with tears in his eyes. “Are. You. Okay?” Stiles asked between gasped breaths as Scott pressed his hands down on the bleeding wound on his chest.
“Yes,” Scott said, tears falling from his eyes. “Yes, I’m fine, you stupid asshole.”
“I’m dying here, and you’re calling me an asshole. Some friend you are,” Stiles quipped. Not even a piece of lead can stop that famous sarcasm.
“Don’t you dare say that,” Scott demanded. “You’re gonna make it.” And with that, he’s picked Stiles up and carried him to Stiles’ jeep, gently placing him in the passenger’s seat.
Once they got to the hospital, Scott’s mom Melissa met them at the door, and helped get Stiles rushed into surgery. Scott just sat down in the waiting room, helpless. Nothing he could do now. Melissa called Stiles’ father John after they got Stiles in the OR.
When he got there, he sat down beside Scott. Scott didn’t notice until John put an arm around the crying boy’s shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” Scott cried softly. “It’s my fault. If I’d made him stay home and not come with—“
The sheriff stopped him there. “The way I understand it, if he hadn’t been there, you would be gone, and Stiles would be in worse shape than you are now.”
“But what if he dies?”
“Don’t even think that. Those doctors are back there doing everything they can to fix him. And unless we hear otherwise, he’s gonna make it.”
After what seemed like weeks, but was really more like a few hours, a voice snapped both Scott and John’s attention.
“Sheriff Stilinski?”
Both of them stood up to face the doctor who had just appeared in the room’s doorway.
“Is my son okay?” The sheriff asked softly.
The doctor breathed hard for a minute as she adjusted her glasses. “He just got out of surgery, and is now asleep.”
“How long will be asleep?” the sheriff asked.
“It’s hard to tell,” the doctor replied. “He lost a lot of blood, and the extent of his injuries requires time to heal.”
Before John could ask the inevitable question, the doctor continued speaking. “The bullet entered your son’s chest in the right pectoral muscle, punctured one of his lungs, and exited below his right shoulder blade.”
“When can we go see him?” Scott asked, almost too quietly to be heard.
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said. “It’s family only in the ICU.”
“They grew up together,” the sheriff spoke up. “Scott’s family in my book.”
“Well, in that case,” the doctor said with a half-smile. “If you follow me, you can go see him now.”
As the doctor lead Scott and John down the long hallway into ICU, the sheriff’s radio went off.
“Sheriff,” Deputy Parrish’s voice chimed over the speaker. “I know this is a horrible time, but you’re needed at the station.”
The group stopped in the hall. “I’ll be there right there after I see my son,” he replied into the radio.
The three turned to a door at the end of the hall. A placard beside the door read “M. Stilinski”
“Are you ready?” the doctor asked before opening the door. The room was silent, save for the beeping of the various machines hooked up to Stiles. A room containing Stiles should never be silent; Scott thought. It’s like a law of nature.
Scott choked back a sob as Stiles’ father placed a hand on his back and led him farther into the room, to a chair beside the bed. As Scott sat down, the sheriff leaned over the bed and softly kissed his sleeping son’s forehead. “I’m sorry I have to run,” he said softly. “Parrish needs me for something. But I’m gonna be right back here the second I’m done. Wake up for me by then?”
He stood up and faced Scott. “Just keep talking to him. He’ll respond to you.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Stilinski,” Scott said softly, as the older man walked out of the room, the doctor right behind him.
A single tear rolled down Scott’s cheek as he took Stiles’ still hand in his own. “Hey, man,” he whispered. “I hate you sometimes, you know that? You’re too brave for your own good. I hate that you leap before you think. You put yourself in such danger when you’re so fragile.” He looked down, and saw black veins climbing up his arm. Even through the anesthesia and painkillers, Stiles was still hurting, and that broke Scott’s heart.
Scott wiped away a tear from his eye and hung his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, softly. “You do so much for this pack, but we can’t even keep you completely safe. Which fucking sucks for more than one reason, the main one being you’re the most important person in my life.”
He lets go of Stiles’ hand, and pulls his cell phone and earbuds out of his pocket. Connecting the earbuds, he gently places one in Stiles’ ear.
“I was gonna play this for you at a better time. After all this shit with Theo and the Dread Doctors was over, but I guess the time is now.”
He pushed a button, and Jesse McCartney’s “Because You Live” started playing softly in the tiny speaker in Stiles’ ear.
“I heard this after our fight last month, and it perfectly expresses how I feel about you,” he said, holding back a sob. “It’s alright, I’ve survived, I’m alive again,” he quoted the lyrics. “Cause of you, I’ve made it through every storm.”
Scott took Stiles’ hand once more. “You’re the reason I’ve survived everything that’s happened since Peter bit me. I love you, Stiles. More than anything. You’re the first person I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last before I fall asleep at night.”
Scott leaned over and rested his head on the bed, next to Stiles’ waist. “Just please wake up soon, so you can hear me say this.” He softly sobbed into the bed until he fell asleep.
The next morning, Scott awoke to fingers softly running through his hair. He looked up to see Stiles wide awake and smiling. “Hey there,” Stiles said, softly.
Scott smiled, seeing his friend wide awake. “Hey, man,” he replied back, resisting the urge to lunge forward and hug his friend. “How do you feel?”
“It still hurts like hell, but I’ll be okay.”
Scott softly laughed behind a tear falling down his cheek. “I’m glad you will,” he said.
“I heard you, you know?” Stiles said, grabbing Scott’s hand.
“What?” Scott asked, using his free hand to rub the sleep from his eyes.
“Last night. You were talking to me. You said you loved me.”
“Yeah, about that—“ Scott started to stammer before Stiles cut him off.
“I love you too, Scott. I always have.”
Scott was shocked. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Same reason you didn’t. I was afraid of fucking up what we’ve had for these past 10 years.”
Scott laughed softly. “What good timing we’ve got, huh? “
“Only took me almost dying for somebody to finally make a move.”
Scott scooted his seat up as close as he could to the bed. “How’s this for a move?” he asked before leaning over and kissing Stiles softly on the lips.
Stiles smiled against Scott’s mouth. “That works even more,” he whispered before returning the kiss.
After breaking the kiss, Stiles looked up at his new boyfriend. "Hey, Scotty?" He asked softly.
"Yeah?"
"Can you play that song for me again?"
Scott retrieved his phone and tapped the screen. Soon, the room was filled with the sounds of what will forever be known to the two boys as Scott and Stiles' song.
THE END