Dylan O'Brien/Stiles Stilinski Imagines

Fire and Ice

Y/N POV

I snapped out of my trance when someone rested their hand on my shoulder. I knew it wasn't the hand I was hoping to feel but, I would pretend that it was for the time being. I would pretend that the smaller hand on my shoulder was actually the long, slender one of the man of my dreams when I knew, for a fact, it wasn't. I would pretend that he was comforting me in this moment of terror. But I knew, that hand would never touch my shoulder again. 

I would like to say that I was cold standing here with only a dress and a light sweater covering my shivering body, but I wasn't. I wasn't shivering from the cold. I had gotten used to the cold once my true love was no longer here. The warmth that he brought me had disappeared and I was left with the cold feeling of emptiness. 

In the words of Robert Frost, "Some think the world will end in fire, Some say in ice." The ones who say ice are smart. Because the world will end in the ice since the warmth of Stiles Stilinski can no longer be felt. 

I don't know how others are handling it. I hadn't bothered to ask. I haven't left my room since I heard. Except for today. 

Today was Stiles Stilinski's funeral. I didn't know who would show up. I didn't know whose hand was resting on my shoulder at the moment. I didn't know anything. All I knew, was that I didn't want to be here. I would much rather be here all alone so me and Stiles could be by ourselves but, I knew that wasn't going to happen. Others needed to grieve just as much as I did. 

Honestly, I am surprised Stiles hadn't asked for a party instead of a funeral. He is one of those people who would want to celebrate instead of mourn. He would find himself "not good enough" for people to mourn over. We would argue over his importance and he would finally decide on just throwing a party instead of people standing around his coffin,  in black clothes,  in the cold of the California winter. 

But he didn't get that decision. We didn't get the chance to argue over the topic because his life was taken from him. No one was expecting it and no one would've expected the way that it happened either. 

But, I guess, people never really expect to die. 

The hand that was on my shoulder moved down to my arm and another hand moved to my other arm pulling me into their chest. That was when I realized who it was. Derek Hale had showed up to the funeral. He never really seemed like the "touchy" type so I was surprised when I looked up to see that he was the one holding me. "I'm sorry," he whispered. The funeral hadn't begun yet. Not everyone has showed up. His body was already waiting above the man made hole in the ground in his shiny, black coffin. 

"It's okay," I managed to say, lying. Those were the first words I've said in days. I hadn't been crying, my eyes were dried out. "I know it's not," he says, almost chuckling. "You don't have to lie and pretend it's okay. It's not. It's hard and I know that. We all know that." He pulled away from our embrace, to look at me. "You don't have to pretend to be fine," he says again, slowly as if he is making sure I completely understand. All I can do is shake my head. 

After he walked away, I looked around to see who else had shown up while I wasn't paying attention. 

Jackson Whittemore. Jackson, out of all people was someone that I did not expect to see. He must've flown in from London. I didn't have enough energy to be shocked. I looked next to Jackson to see Lydia. She wasn't crying, like me. She was being strong and holding it together. I want to tell her that it was okay to cry and be upset just like Derek had told me but,  I just couldn't make myself move. The reason behind my lack of tears was because it was physically impossible for my body to produce anymore but, I can assure you, if it was possible I would be doing it. 

Next to Lydia was Malia, of course she wasn't crying either. She was staring off into space blankly like I had before Derek shook me out of it. I knew that she had been in love with Stiles before and I would be lying if I said that I wasn't a little jealous of their previous relationship but, I couldn't blame her. I mean, who couldn't possibly fall in love with Stiles. I'm surprised Lydia didn't date him after he revealed his old feelings for her. When he told me how he felt about me, I couldn't possibly say no. I was surprised he even felt the same way that I did. 

A couple feet to the right of Malia was Coach Bobby Finstock. Again, I wanted to be shocked but I just couldn't. Apparently I wasn't the only one that couldn't seem to move. Coach was standing with one hand on his hip and the other over his mouth as he stared at the box that held my dead boyfriend. It wasn't just us that was in shock about Stiles' death. It was like the whole town was in a depression. It was a death that was absolutely unexpected by everyone. The Sheriff's son was dead. 

Sheriff. I scanned the crowd to find Stiles' dad. When I saw him I didn't have long to study whatever emotion was on his face because Scott had just ran up to him and given him a hug. "Scott," I could hear him say, his voice cracking from sadness. The hug was so intense I had to turn my head but, not in a bad way. 

I searched through the crowd again, seeing only parents and teachers and decided to give my, for lack of a better word, investigating, a rest. No one from the pack talked to each other which was a good thing. We could comfort each other later. 

The service went by slowly. We were all asked if we want to say anything but, I couldn't. Turning it down made me feel like I was letting Stiles down but, I know he would understand. I would be back to talk to him later. 

When the service was over, the pack parted ways again without talking. I turned around and  began walking to the car when I spotted someone else that was familiar. Isaac Lahey, had came back from who knows where for Stiles' funeral. I laughed when I saw what Isaac was wearing remembering all the times Stiles had called him out for wearing those things. I wonder if he did it on purpose or if it was just because of the cold. Isaac saw me looking at him and he tucked his scarf into his jacket smiling at me. I smiled back as I continued walking to the car. I wasn't going to tell anybody that he was here. He had disappeared without a word for a long time and if he didn't want people knowing where he was, I wasn't going to rat him out so he could get jumped by the rest of the pack. 

Were we still a pack without Stiles?

I climbed into Stiles' Jeep, one of the many things of his I got to keep and drove home. On the way there I couldn't take it anymore. I had to hear his voice and I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of this before.  I dialed his number quickly, from memory, knowing he wasn't going to answer. 

"Hey! It's Stiles!" The familiar recording from his voicemail rang through my ears causing tears, that I thought were impossible to pour from my eyes. "Sorry I couldn't get to the phone right now but, I'll call you back when I can. . . Oh and if this is Y/N, I'm sorry for missing your call and I love you." The recording laughed and I could hear my laugh in the background. I remember joking around with him and telling him to say that. Hearing him say those three words when I had been so deprived of them made my heart shatter. 

I heard the beep and began talking into the microphone, saying something that Stiles would never even hear. 

"Hey, Stiles," I wiped my eyes as I stopped at a red light. "It's Y/N but... you already knew that. I just wanted to say that... um... I miss you and it's going to be hard not having you here wit-" The beep telling me that my message was cut off rang in my ears. 

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Claire