Let Me Heal You

Chapter Two

"D-Derek." I mumbled, his strong grip was suffocating me.

He slowly let go of me, hiding his face in shame.

"Derek..." I reached out and touched his forearm, his huge forearm.

He rejected my touch, pulling his arm away immediately.

"You were just hugging me for like 10 minutes, Derek. Now you won't let me talk to you?"

His arms were tightly crossed, and his face turned away. He sighed a few times before actually looking at me, and I understood why he was hiding it at first.

His cheeks were bright red, and his eyes full of tears. I have never, ever seen him in a mess like this.

"Derek I'm sorry." I said.

"There's nothing to be sorry about, Stiles. I'm fine, can't you see that?"

"Don't do that."

"What?" He asked, like a complete idiot.

"Don't act like everything is fine, when obviously it's not. You're blaming yourself for the fire, and the death of your family. You're also blaming yourself for Peter's condition, and you think you brought on the urge for him to kill."

"It is my fault, Stiles. Now leave like I told you to." I could hear the anger in his voice build.

"No it's not, and I'm not leaving until you admit it's not your fault." I was the angry one now.

"It was my fault, Stiles! Why does it matter so much to you?!"

"It matters to me because no one deserves to feel that way!" I yelled.

Except myself. I thought.

"You don't deserve the pain you're feeling, no one does. No one deserves to wake up every morning, and be reminded of something bad in your life, and think it's your fault."

Except for me, I deserve the pain. I thought.

"You won't let anyone in, or let anyone know how you actually feel because first, you have this "bad boy, no feelings" reputation, and second, you don't want anyone to feel bad for you. You don't want negative attention. You don't want your reputation to change. You don't want all these things, but it's okay."

I have nothing. My reputation is "that nerd who's friends with Scott, the awesome popular guy." No one would care one bit about my pathetic, feelings. I thought.

We stared at each other for a while, neither one saying a word. Did I really leave the great Derek Hale speechless?

"How do you know all this." He finally asked.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he spoke for me.

"You are spot on... I, I just... Don't feel comfortable talking about this with you."

I had him about to admit everything, and he stops.

"It's not fair for anyone to say they understand, I don't understand how you feel. You don't understand how I feel. I know because I have severe depression, I don't like admitting it, but I do. That's one I thing I know you have to do, is admit the problem. Look Derek, I don't feel comfortable talking about this either, to you or anyone else. I just don't like talking about it period. The only reason I am talking about it to you, is because you have severe depression too. I feel like we can connect in this one way."

"I'm not depressed." He said.

It was like nothing else I said in my speech mattered, and he only cared about being called depressed.

"Yes you are. You know it too, you just don't want to admit it."

"I have nothing to admit, I'm not depressed. I'm fine, just like everyone else."

"You aren't. I know for a fact that you think about suicide at least once a day, I know for a fact you spend most of your time dwelling and blaming yourself. I know for a fact, you hate yourself with a passion..." I screamed.

I'm describing myself now... I thought.

A tear escaped his eye, and fell down his red cheek.

"How did you know that..." He whispered.

"You're depressed, like me..."

~

"Here." I said, shoving the duffle in Scott's face.

He grabbed it, and looked at me confused.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

I opened my locker and began digging into it, trying to find anything that was related to math.

"Fine, you?"

"Yeah.. Thanks for bringing me my stuff."

"No problem."

"How much of an ass hole was Derek? Sorry you had to deal with him."

Derek isn't an ass hole, Scott. I thought.

"He was fine." I answered.

I knew if I said anything different, he would think something was going on. And I'd rather him stay out of my life for this one thing. He knows enough about me already.

"Oh, that's a change. He's usually such a douche bag." He laughed.

You're the douche bag, Scott. I thought.

"I'll see you in class." I said annoyed.

I walked off, feeling his eyes on me. He can think what he thinks, I don't care. After the time I spent with Derek yesterday, I feel like it's my only job to help him. "Heal" him some would say.

Suddenly my phone started vibrating in my pocket, I guess I forgot to turn it to silent. I pulled it out and discover a text, from Derek.

It read:

"Can you come to my place when you're done with school?"

I quickly typed out my reply:

"Yeah, can I ask why?"

"Just come over."

Well, I shouldn't push my luck.