Broken

Chapter 11

Scott POV

I start calming down a bit, my body shaking a lot less than it was before. I eventually pull out of the hug and look at my mom with teary eyes, trying my best not to break down again. Mom gazes back at me worriedly, none of us caring about the people watching from all around us. "What happened, sweetie?" Mom asks in a gentle voice as she runs her hand through my hair in an attempt to comfort me, which does work a little. I sniffle quickly a few times as I prepare to tell my Mom everything. I take a deep breath to calm myself down before speaking.

"Well, Mom, as you know, we thought that Stiles shouldn't be in the pack anymore. To protect him. I just wanted to keep him safe. Great fail that was. Anyway, we tried to avoid him at school so our enemies wouldn't be able to see any connections between us and Stiles." I begin in a quiet voice.

"What about your old enemies? They know Stiles." Mom points out.

"Yeah, I know it was a stupid plan, alright?" I sigh sadly, feeling even more guilty.

"Sorry. Please continue." Mom tells me.

"Okay, well, I don't really know much about what happened to Stiles before now, but there was this party tonight. Jackson had thrown it at his house and it's huge. I was hoping Stiles would be there so we could talk and I could apologize, but he wasn't there. I asked Jackson where he was, but Jackson said he didn't invite him, even though he invited anyone who was anyone, implying that Stiles wasn't anyone. I punched Jackson in the face and left straight after that. I got on my motorbike and drove to Stiles' house and the front door was unlocked. I rushed inside and found Stiles lying unconcisous in the bathtub as water overflowed the sides, some of the water tinted pink and red. Stiles was bleeding out badly and I was in shock. I managed to get him out of the bath and put pressure on the wounds and I ran him all the way here." I explain to Mom quickly, not wanting vivid images to remind me of what just happened. I squeeze my eyes tight shut, wanting to just block out the world around me. It's cold and cruel. It hurt Stiles so much that he wanted to take his own life. I'm hoping and praying with all my might that he didn't succeed and that he's going to live. I need him to live. I realize that none of this might not have happened if I was just there for Stiles. I should have seen the signs, especially since I'm a werewolf! I'm supposed to sense people's chemo signals and feelings. I'm supposed to hear when people are lying. How was I so blind and stupid not to see that Stiles was lying about being okay and that he was really struggling? The bruises that seem to keep forming on him should have been enough of a sign to figure out that something was wrong. I didn't do anything when Stiles grabbed my wrist in the hall and asked why him. He was obviously upset and hurting, but I did nothing! I just walked away, leaving him alone! Some best friend I am.

"It's all my fault." I whisper, feeling heartbroken as I open my eyes and hang my head in shame, tears still spilling down my cheeks. "No, Scott. It's not your fault. None of this is your fault." Mom assures me in a firm voice as she lifts my chin up so I can look at her again, neither of us caring about the people around us.

"Don't blame yourself for this. It'll only make things worse. It's not your fault, Scott, I promise." Mom continues, gazing at me sympathetically. "I could've done better, I should've been there for him." I whimper, still feeling awful.

"We all could've done better, Scott." Mom sighs sadly, but squeezes my shoulder comfortingly. I feel myself about to cry again, so I quickly pull Mom into another hug where I cry into her shoulder for several minutes while she rubs my back and promises me that everything will be okay. That Stiles will be okay. Eventually, we pull out of the hug and Mom helps me to my feet. "Here. Come with me, Scott." Mom says softly as she takes my hand that is still covered in my best friend's blood and leads me down the hall and sits me down in a chair in the waiting room with him. "Now, Scott. This could be important for Stiles' case. Every detail counts, especially when it comes to suicide, considering that they can be so hard to come by. Is there anything else that happened or anything else that you know?" Mom asks me in a serious voice, squeezing my hand tightly. I think about it for a moment. Well, I had no idea that Stiles would do something like this. We haven't been talking for a while now, which wouldn't have helped anything. I suddenly remember the letter addressed to me in my jacket's pocket. Could that mean something?