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Drowning Chapter 2

Sheriff Stilinskis POV
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Where the hell is my son, Hale?!" I scream in Derek's face, gripping one of his shoulders. He raises his hand slowly, like he was poisoned or really exhausted.

I turn to where he points. The River.

Derek tries to get up, but his legs shake, and he collapses, but then his face twists in agony, someone is talking to him, and he's not happy about it. His eyes widen in shock, and he throws himself off the ground, going straight to the river, and diving in.

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Stiles POV
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I feel a pressure on my lips, and a pushing against my chest, the water in my lungs getting forced up my throat, burning.

I'm alive! I'm alive...

I lean to the side, choking up seaweed and little bits of rock, when I open my eyes groggily.

I see Derek looking down on me, dripping wet, with red eyes. He growls softly. I raise my fingertips to my lips, and force a smirk.

"We're you kissing me, Sourwolf?" I ask, my eyes fluttering closed.

He picks me up bridal style, laying my head gently on his warm shoulder. I hadn't realized how cold I was until I felt him. Wrapping my arms around his, I shiver violently, when he places his hand behind my head and neck.

He turns to me with a wicked grin on his face, but also with comfort, "Hold on tight."

We ran through the woods, and he stopped at one of the trees and he sat me down, leaning against the wood. He kneels down next to me, pressing his lips softy to mine, tilting his head to the side. I slide my hand up his 'V' neck sliding off his leather jacket and moaning into his mouth as he drags his tongue across my bottom lip sliding it into my mouth, he pulls away slowly.

"Stiles.Stiles! STILES!" He screams, and my eyes shoot open, I jump back, to reveal Derek and Deatons worried faces.

I just daydreamed about Derek Hale. Oh my god.

"Sorry." I say nervously, dragging my hands over my face.

"Are you okay, Stiles?" Deaton asks, like I didn't just get drowned by Jackson.

I sigh, looking up into his eyes, tears about to fall. I bite my lip, then begin.

"You know when you're drowning you don't actually inhale until right before you black out. 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 that you won't open your mouth until you feel like your head's exploding. Then when you finally do let it in, that's when it stops hurting. It's not scary anymore, it's... it's actually kind of peaceful."

I'm full blown crying now, but that's when he speaks.

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

"Just because a bunch of dumb asses 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. And by the way, my dad told me that they found a bunch of pictures of Allison on Matt's computer. Not just of her though, I mean he photoshopped himself into these pictures. Stuff like them holding hands and kissing, y'know like he had built this whole fake relationship. So yeah, maybe drowning when he was nine years old was what set him off the rails, but the dude was definitely riding the crazy train."

"And what about you, Stiles? Feeling some anxiety about that championship game tomorrow night?"

"Why would you ask me that? Oh. Uh, uh, no I never actually play but hey, since one of my teammates is dead, and another ones missing, who knows, right?"

"You mean Issac. Now really, how are you?"

"I'm fine. Aside from the jumpiness, the constant, overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible is about to happen."

"It's called hyper vigilance. The persistent feeling of being under threat."

I have been diagnosed before. I don't want to be analyzed or fixed. Don't want to be told that what I'm feeling is a disorder. It's why I didn't answer any of the questions directly originally, didn't volunteer any information. Because I've been through this before. I've been diagnosed. And I'm tired of feeling like somethings wrong with me.

"Maybe it's not just a feeling though, right, it's... it's like it's a panic attack. Y'know, like I can't even breathe."

I stop myself from saying anything that's the truth. "It's like I'm being attacked by the supernatural, like I've dragged the only remaining parent I have into it, like I almost watched him die because a crazy kid went off the handle and happened to find a freaky lizard who is also my classmate who tried to kill me and killed lots of other people and almost killed my father." So instead, I change it to the only thing I know I can articulate that's possibly similar: panic attacks. Because they make me feel helpless, like Jackson did, like Matt did. Helpless to take care of myself, or anything around me.

"Like you're drowning."

"Yeah."

"So, if you're drowning, and you're trying to keep your mouth closed until that very last moment... what if you chose to not open your mouth? To not let the water hit?"

"Y-You do anyway, it's a reflex."

"But... if you hold off, until that reflex kicks in, you have more time, right?"

"Not much time."

"But more time to fight your way to the surface"

"I guess."

"More time to be rescued."

"More time to be in agonizing pain. Did you forget about the part where you feel like your head's exploding?"

Because I never get rescued. That's the difference between Matt and I. I've felt like I've been drowning since mom died, since my father started drinking himself to an early grave, since Scott turned into a werewolf and left me, since everyone around me became stronger and more well adapted for life, since my dad told me he didn't trust me. Since my dad called Scott's name instead of mine when he heard a gun shot go off. Since I watched my dad get attacked, and I was helpless. Like I always am.

"If it's about surviving, isn't a little agony worth it?"

"I mean, what if it just gets worse? What if it's agony now and... and it's just hell later on."

"Then think about something Winston Churchill once said: If you're going through hell, keep going."

I think the last quote really encompasses my way of coping, way of living. I am under this barrage of every thing going wrong, of drowning under every crisis my life throws at me. But I'm in the constant state of voluntary apnea. I never breathe in, never let it take me under all the way. I'm going through hell, I can't breathe, I want nothing more than to open my mouth and let the pain go away. To have peace. But I live with feeling like my head's exploding, because other people need me to survive. Dad, Scott, even Derek. I play a role, and that role is the only thing that keeps me going, even if I don't realize how big it is. It's the only thing that keeps me from breathing, from letting the water in. I don't believe in a brighter future for myself; I don't see the drowning feeling going away any time soon, unless I let the water in, give up. But I do believe in the fact that if I do give in, do concede, it might hurt the ones around me more than I'm hurting.

So I am willing to deal with agony now, and hell later on, because I care about those I love more than I care about myself. I'll live in hell if it means everyone I care about gets to live, period.

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No ones POV
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Stiles sits there, not knowing he said all that aloud. No one would tell him, either. Because they know that's what he believes, and they wouldn't deny him that. They couldn't..

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