bruised//«stiles stilinski»

Part 21

Unknown number

I roll my eyes but click answer anyway. I'm so glad I did.

"Derek?" Asks a quivering voice which I know to be Stiles.

"Stiles? Stiles, are you okay?" I ask hurriedly, beckoning Scott over to listen.

"Yeah, yeah." He whispers. "I'm fine." Though I can tell he's not.

"You're not fine, Stiles." I say through gritted teeth, my voice laced with anger. I'm angry at him, angry at his dad, angry at everything.

"Why are you pissed with me?" Stiles asks defensively.

"I'm... You left me, okay?" I shoo Scott away now, and he scurries into the other room. "You left me without saying goodbye." I whisper. "I was gonna help you, you were gonna get better, and it would be-"

"No, Derek. Don't say it. It wasn't gonna be okay, alright? My mom is dead, Der. My little sister's dead. My dad hates me and doesn't give a shit! My life's freaking mess, okay? So don't tell me- don't lie to me- by saying things are going to be okay because they're not! None of this is okay!" He yells, and I hear his voice crack at the end of line and gentle sobs escaping his mouth. I shut my eyes.

He's so broken.

"Stiles, don't. Don't cry." I whisper sternly. "I'll get you outta there, okay? I'll do anything, and you'll be home soo-"

"I don't want to get out, Derek. Don't you get that? If I wanted to be at home I wouldn't have freaking checked myself in to a nuthouse!" He cries, and I hear someone nearby tell him not to use the word 'nuthouse'. He tells them to piss off.

"Why? Stiles, why'd you do it? Check yourself in?" I ask my eyebrows furrowed.

"You think I had a choice? You think I wanted to be labelled as some crazy idiot?! I didn't have a choice, Derek. I had to do this. I don't belong out there." He whispers after a small outburst of shouting. I sniff and breath in deeply, trying to swallow the horrible lump in my throat.

"You don't belong in there, either, Stiles." Is all I can manage to choke out.

"I don't belong anywhere." Is all he says before he hangs up and a long beep plays in my ear, signalling he's gone.

I don't realise I've been crying until Scott slowly walks back in the room.

"You okay?" He asks concerningly, walking quickly towards me.

"He's not coming back, Scott." I whisper, looking at my phone, which is still held in my hand tightly, making my knuckles turn white.

"What do you-"

"I mean he isn't coming back. He doesn't want to." I say sternly, narrowing my eyes at Scott making him step back a bit.

"What?" Asks Scott, his eyes a fraction wider.

"Yeah. He said he had to go there... He 'needed' it, he 'belongs' there." I say, scowling at each word he said. "It's bullshit, Scott. Seriously. He doesn't belong there. He's not like that... He's not." I say, staring at a random point in the distance.

"Derek, we gotta get him out. Like, soon. Before his thoughts take over and he loses it." Scott says, flicking his gaze up to meet my eyes. I nod in agreement.

***

Stiles POV

"Mr Stilinski, time for your group counselling." A nurse says as she pokes her head around the door. I set the book down that I was reading, grab my hoodie, and follow her out of the room. She leads me down a few winding hallways and we reach a door labelled 'group counselling'. The nurse instructs me to enter.

"Remember there's some patients from outside the House." she says, and she walks off back down the hall. Slowly I reach for the door handle, taking a deep breath before pushing open the door completely, revealing a group of people sat in a horse shoe formation around a main desk in a relatively large room. The first thing that catches my eye is a girl with dirty blonde hair, her back towards me, whom I know to be-

"You must be Stiles! Take a seat." Welcomes a cheery woman.

Immediately the dirty blonde haired girl- Malia- spins round, her mouth hanging wide open. I completely ignore her and walk to the corner of the room, sitting as far from her as possible.

Malia doesn't remove her eyes from me until the woman leading the group speaks.

"Stiles, everybody has already introduced themselves. Why don't you?" She urges, her eyes slightly menacing and intimidating. I shrug and slouch back.

"Okay..." I murmer, "I'm Stiles. I'm depressed, have anxiety, and ADHD. Hi." I say unenthusiastically, narrowing my eyes at the entire room, who look slightly terrified of me.

"So, Stiles. Are you a patient at Eichen?" Malia asks suddenly, squinting at me, a slight smug smirk on her face. I roll my eyes and frown at her.

"Yeah, I am actually." I snarl through gritted teeth.

"Do your friends know? Did you tell 'em?" She asks, raising a bitchy eyebrow.

"Why the fuck do you care? Please, shut up." I groan.

The counceller shoots me a disgusted glare but I ignore her, sticking up my middle finger at Malia. She sticks her tongue out at me, flipping her hair over her shoulders. I immediately roll my eyes and scowl.

"Uh, excuse me!" Bursts the counceller, and I forget the whole room are watching us. I roll my eyes and slump back into my seat.

"Sorry." I mutter.
***

As soon as the session is over I practically run to the door.

"Don't even think about it." Malia snaps in my ear from behind me.

"What?" I ask defensively. We leave the room and she whacks me on the arm, making me flinch.

"What the hell?!" I frown at her.

"You know exactly what, Stiles. I haven't spoken to Scott or Derek this week. Okay? So, I assumed you were just missing school because of your dad or something. Then I was worried when you didn't bother to answer your phone! And now you're freaking..." Her words hang in the air as her voice trails off and cracks. Her eyes glaze with tears and she looks around the hall, as if for inspiration. "Now you're in here." She finishes.

I fidget with my shirt hem, looking at the floor.

"Malia, I belong here, okay? Scott and Derek saw me in here a couple days ago anyway, I thought they'd tell you..." I shrug, and turn to walk away, leaving her confused in the middle of the hall.

A/N ok idek where I was going with this shitty chapter but you know(: vote and comment tysm guys!!