Some Things Are Left Unsaid

Stiles didn’t think he could take it anymore. Ever since his best friend Scott had been turned into a werewolf, protecting that secret and saving his werewolf ass had become Stiles’ whole life. He tried to be a supportive friend, but he didn’t think he could do it much longer.

Stiles was sick of the fact that he couldn’t tell his dad anything anymore. Before the werewolf thing, Stiles told his dad everything, even if it got him into trouble. Now he had to lie to his dad almost every time he left the house because almost every time he left the house, his reason was werewolf related. Stiles hated it.

When Stiles wandered into school one day, he hoped with everything he had that Scott wouldn’t be standing at his locker, waiting to walk to class. Not only was Scott the cause of his werewolf problem, he was also the one that introduced Stiles to the one werewolf that he couldn’t have, but wanted nonetheless.

“Hey dude, you look a little down,” Scott said, his arm around his girlfriend Allison’s waist, as Stiles walked up to the pair.

Stiles shrugged, he really didn’t want to see Scott and Allison acting all couple-y when Stiles couldn’t be a couple with the one he wanted.

“Stiles,” Allison said softly, “Are you down in the dumps because of a girl?”

Stiles got his books out of his locker. “Nope.”

Scott sighed and let go on Allison. “Dude, we just don’t want to see you upset like this.”

“Well, I don’t feel like telling you what’s wrong.”

When Stiles left his two friends, they looked at each other with worried looks on their faces. Whatever war was being fought in Stiles’ mind, they weren’t going to find out what it was about. They wanted to find out, but if Stiles wouldn’t tell them, they weren’t going to find out.

The two separated after watching Stiles walk to his class, and went to their own classes.

…

Later on that night, Stiles was sitting in his room, researching stuff on werewolves and listening to music. Normally Stiles would choose happy and upbeat music, but tonight he wasn’t in a happy and upbeat mood. Actually, he was at his all-time low point.

‘Dear Scott,’ he wrote down on a piece of paper, feeling weird for writing this kind of letter to his best friend. ‘I know that you have no idea why I’m going to do this, but just trust me that I need to. You aren’t the reason, so don’t think that and please don’t try to stop me. Stiles.’
Stiles folded the piece of paper on half and placed it on the side of his desk.

‘Dear Dad, I’m sorry that we seem to have drifted apart. I used to be able to tell you everything and I used to not have to lie. Lately I have. Just trust me that there are reasons to why I didn’t tell you everything, and trust me that there are reasons to why I did what I did. Love Stiles.’

This time when Stiles wrote the note, a tear escaped. He didn’t want to do what he was about to do, but he needed to. He put the note to his dad on top of the one to Scott, and contemplated writing one more. He knew there was one more person that he wanted to write to; he just didn’t know if he should. First off, this person hadn’t ever given Stiles the impression that he would care at all if Stiles died. Then there was always the fact that if his dad or Scott came and found their letters, they could end up finding the letter to the other person. If he was dead by that point, he obviously wouldn’t care too much, but while he was still alive and thinking about it, it gave him good reason not to write another letter.

Stiles decided to write to him, he couldn’t see the down side of doing so.

‘Derek, I know you hate me and really don’t care about what I did, but I care about you. All those times you were close to me, I thought I was going to die, but not from fright. My heart sped up and I started sweating. Even with your werewolf senses, you thought I was just terrified of you. At first I was. I know you don’t care, but I just wanted you to know that I love you. Stiles.’

That was the end. Those three were the only people Stiles could think of that he wanted to write to.

Stiles figured that once he was gone, his room would be searched, and that would be when the letters would be found. All he could hope was the letters would bet to his intended people and not to anyone else. He sure as hell didn’t want his dad or Scott to see what he wrote to Derek
Stiles didn’t know exactly where he needed to go to do this, so he drove around town in his jeep for a while. He figured water would be best, even though drowning would suck. He knew if he took pills, he would have had to buy them first. His dad had ever been one to buy a ton of pills, so that plan had gone out. Stiles had thought of shooting himself, there were all sorts of guns around the house, but Stiles was too scared to even think about doing that, much less actually do it. So he settled on jumping. Sure, that scared the crap out of him too, but it gave him time to get whatever thoughts he had together. He also thought that it gave someone time to save him.

Finally, after about an hour of driving around town, he found a bridge.

“Okay,” he said to no-one as he got out of his jeep and walked to the edge.

Stiles didn’t want to get up on the edge yet. He was quite relieved to see that the edge was made of a foot of concrete block since if it had been one of those fenced edgings with the iron fencing, he would have had to find a new bridge to jump from.

He stood there, looking over at the river running under the bridge. Stiles thought that he just wanted to look at something beautiful before he died.

Stiles took a deep breath and climbed onto the edge of the bridge. Better get this over with, he thought.

“Stiles, what are you doing?” Scott said from behind Stiles.

Stiles turned around quickly. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to stop you! You can’t kill yourself!”

“You have no control over me Scott. I can do whatever I want.”

Scott sighed. “Stiles, why do you want to kill yourself? You’re so happy almost all of the time, what would make you so upset that it would make you want to kill yourself?”

“Did you read my letter to you?” Stiles asked, wanting to turn around and jump, to ignore Scott.

“Well, yeah, that’s how I knew to come look for you. I knew you didn’t have enough pills in the house, and I knew that you would be too scared to shoot yourself.”

“How did you know that I was here?” Stiles turned away from Scott again.

“I didn’t,” Scott said cautiously,” I drove around town and saw your jeep here. Stiles, why do you want to kill yourself?”

“I have a reason,” Stiles whispered.

“Why don’t you tell me the reason?”

“Because you’ll be disgusted!”

“Stiles, I didn’t want to tell you this, but I read your letter to Derek. I’m not disgusted.”

“You’re not?” Stiles asked, trying to wrap his head around what Scott had said. “Wait, that’s not the only reason though! All this werewolf shit is putting me under too much stress! I don’t want to have to worry about all these night creatures that are going to kill people! And I don’t want to worry about what trouble Derek is getting into!”

“Sties.” Scott walked up to his friend. “You said that Derek isn’t the only reason you want to do this, bit the last thing you said was about Derek, and all these night creatures include Derek.”

“I know.”

Scott didn’t reply to Stiles. At first Stiles thought it was because Scott was thinking, but when Stiles turned around, Scott was nowhere to be seen.

“Great, not even my best friend wants to be here while I need him.”

Stiles hoped that Scott would come back, so he sat down on the ledge. He was facing the river, looking at its beauty as he thought about what was going on. He had thought that he wanted to jump; he really had. Now all he wanted to do was go home and curl up into a ball on his bed.

Actually, Stiles thought as he listened to the sound of the river below him, what I really want to do is curl up in a ball with Derek holding me. Not that that will even happen though.

Stiles closed his eyes. He imagined laying on his side, on his bed, with Derek facing him. Derek’s arm would be on Stiles’ waist, and Stiles would reach his hand up to Derek’s face, tracing his jawline. Derek would smile down at him, and would slowly bring his face closer to Stiles’ until their lips would touch softly.

“Stiles.”

Stiles jumped. When you’re daydreaming about someone, like Stiles had been daydreaming about Derek, and then said person appears being you, it tends to scare you.

“What do you want?”

“You to turn around.”

Stiles didn’t want to turn around, but he did anyway.

“Scott told me that you’re going to kill yourself.”

Stiles heartbeat quickened. “Did he tell you why?”

Derek nodded. “He did and I don’t understand.” Derek slowly got closer to Stiles, making the younger boy’s heartbeat get even faster. He really didn’t think it could get any faster.

“What do you mean you don’t understand?”

“I don’t understand how you could love me or how that could drive you to this point.”

Derek put his head down and Stiles thought that he might have seen a blush appear on Derek’s cheeks.

No, Stiles thought, there was no way I could have seen that. He’s Derek Hale, and Derek Hale doesn’t blush.

“What? You don’t think that someone like me is good enough to love you?”

The werewolf rolled his eyes. “No, I don’t see how someone as good as you could love me.”

Stiles thought he had heard Derek wrong, or maybe that he was dreaming. There was absolutely no way that the werewolf had just said what he had said.

“Come again?” Stiles asked, his shock evident though his tone of voice and his facial expression.

Derek closed the foot wide gap that had separated the two. He put his hand on the back of Stiles’ neck before replying.

“I don’t understand how someone as good as you could love someone like me.”

Stiles didn’t reply, he didn’t feel he needed to. He did lean back against Derek’s hand though, loving the feeling.

Wanting to finally show his feelings, Derek moved his face in closer to Stiles’.

Stiles moved his hand up to trace Derek’s jaw, just like in his daydream.

Also like Stiles’ daydream Derek smiled at the boy, and pressed his lips to Stiles’, slowly at first, testing his limits.

Derek put his arms around Stiles’ waist and pulled the boy off of the bridge that was almost the last thing Stiles had ever saw.