l - teen wolf imagines

Scott McCall - I Cant Without Her

Warning - mentions of suicide

Scott sat on the bleachers, his eyes roaming the crowded gym. They landed on the streamers, the balloons, and the girls in the dresses they had probably spent hours agonizing over. Graduation was less than a month away, and the promise of celebration had swept throughout the room and landed on everyone...except for Scott.
He knew prom was supposed to be exciting, but he didn't feel much like celebrating. Not when they had lost you almost four months ago.
He could see Stiles and Lydia talking quietly next to the table with the food, and Malia was swaying with the beat of whatever was thumping through the speakers. Every few minutes their eyes would flick toward him in concern, but he couldn't bring himself to walk over and tell them he was okay. He couldn't lie anymore. He just didn't have the energy.
The song Malia was dancing to abruptly ended, only to be replaced by a slow, soft melody. Scott watched as the crowd on the floor thinned out a bit, only to be replaced by a mob of couples. Arms were wrapped around necks, and hands were placed on waists, and Scott felt like the air was being snatched from his lungs.
It probably took him longer than it should have to realize that this was the first song you had danced to together, at the least the first at a real dance. He remembered the feel of your gentle hands on his back, and how, when you laid your head on his shoulder, he had listened to your heartbeat and realized you loved him.
You were his best friend, and had been since he and Stiles had helped you up from the dirt when Jackson shoved you to the ground in third grade. This was the beginning of junior year, just after he and Allison had called things off, but he couldn't help but forget about her when he looked down at your smiling face.
When you looked up to meet his eyes that night, he couldn't resist leaning down to kiss you. Of course he had always been curious. You were his best friend, and he had always loved you, but that was something different. That was something more.
He closed his eyes and willed the memory to disappear, but as the song went on, he began to feel more and more like he couldn't breathe. He jumped off the bleachers suddenly, and pushed through the crowd to get to the gym doors.
When he made it out into the darkened hall, he only made it a few yards before slumping against the lockers and sliding to the floor. He swiped a hand under his eyes, wondering why it took him so long to realize how you felt, and why it had to happen right before everything fell apart.
It hadn't been long after that night that Allison died, and if that hadn't hit you hard enough, you lost your sister to the Dread Doctors the next fall. Scott remembered how wrecked you had been, and one particular conversation had told him just how broken you were.
He had walked into your room one night to find you lying among a pile of broken glass. Your hands were coated in blood, and you were simply staring into the mirror you had smashed.
"Y/n," Scott said shakily, grabbing you by the shoulders. "You should have called me."
"What's the point?" you had croaked. "There's just...there's no point to this anymore, Scott. My sister...god there was no point. They took her, and they turned her into that thing, and then they came back and just killed her. She didn't die for anything. She died because we were too slow."
"Y/n, no-"
"It's true," you had whispered. "There was no point. And there's no point to any of this anymore. It just...it doesn't matter."
Scott knew now that your words had been a warning sign, but he was too shaken to notice. While he had been everyone else's rock, you were his, and seeing you like that scared the hell out of him. If only he hadn't been so selfish, if only he had thought more about you instead of himself, maybe he could have stopped you.
The sound of the door squeaking open brought him back to reality, but he didn't look. He didn't want to face whoever had come out into the hallway. He didn't need anyone else's eyes on him.
"Scott."
Reluctantly, he glanced up at Stiles. His best friend, the only one he had left, was staring down at him with a mixture of regret and pity. "Come on, dude. Let's go back in there."
"I can't," Scott whispered. "I can't without her."
"Scott. She's not coming back."
"You think I don't know that?" Scott asked bitterly.
Stiles sighed and sank down beside him. "No, I don't."
"You're angry," Scott stated, his eyes narrowing as he glanced over at him.
"'Course I'm angry. I'm angry and I fucking miss her."
His voice broke against the silence in the hallway, and he closed his eyes. "She chose to do this, Scott. And I'm pissed. I'm pissed that she's gone, and that she decided that it was okay to leave us behind, because it's not. It's fucking not, and yeah, I'm angry. I hate her a little bit for doing what she did. And I hate us for not noticing."
"There was a lot going on."
"Had to be the night of the supermoon," Stiles whispered, his voice fraught with bitterness. "It just had to be."
"Even if we wanted to be there," Scott said softly. "I don't think we could have."
"She didn't call," Stiles reminded him. "She didn't give us anything besides that fucking note."
"No," he insisted. "She gave us a lot more than that. She gave us everything."
Stiles pursed his lips and looked over at Scott. He met the boy's broken brown eyes, but he was sure his didn't look any different. He reached out to grip his shoulder in the darkness, and he gave him one, firm squeeze. "You're right."
They sat there in the darkness, only able to tell how much time had passed by the music fading in and out. No one came out, aside from the occasional couple sneaking off to the janitor's closet or someone leaving for the bathroom, and no one bothered them.
"Lydia's probably worried," Stiles said eventually.
"Go back in," Scott told, flashing him a pathetic excuse for a smile.
"You can come back in, dude. No one's going to judge you."
The Alpha shook his head. "I just...I don't think I can."
Stiles took a deep breath and nodded. "I get it...but if you need me, I'm here. I'm always here."
Scott nodded. "I know."
With one last glance at his best friend, Stiles stood up and headed back into the gym. Another slow song drifted out through the open doors, and Scott closed his eyes and listened.
It hurt so much that you were gone, and sometimes, he felt like he would drown in the painful ache of not having you by his side. After everything the two of you had been through together, what you did had just torn him apart inside. He knew you hadn't meant to hurt anyone but yourself, but now that you were gone, he was suffering the consequences.
He let his head fall back against the lockers and used his wolf hearing to listen in to the muffled music. If he tried hard enough, he could just imagine the two of you together out on that floor, swaying to the music, and loving each other in a moment that would never get the chance to be real.