Chapter Text
The clouds above are dark and visibly heavy with rain. They thunder every so often. In the distance the clouds, where haven't reached yet, there's sunshine. There's a clearing in the preserve. Its oval in shape. Two figures in the middle.
The pack runs as fast as they can to their alpha. He's bleeding.
Stiles, somehow, breaks through the woods first despite the fact that he's the slowest. The clouds start to sprinkle and the rain falls down harder and harder with each passing minute.
The pack waits at the edge of the forest as Stiles continues to run. He reaches Scott and the clouds unleash the rain in them; the drops are fat and heavy.
Stiles touches Scott as much as he can. There's a voice in the back of his mind telling him, that this is the last chance he'll have.
Scott takes Stiles' hand and mutters something.
"What?" Stiles asks. "What do you need? Scott tell me please." Stiles can't tell the difference between the tears and the rain falling down his face. He feels like he could cry a storm right now.
Scott clears his throat. "Sing to me,"
Stiles looks at this man, the man he grew up with, the man he wrestled with, the man he loves, and nodded. He arranges Scott so Scott's head is in his lap. Stiles holds his hand tighter.
"You are my sunshine," Stiles' voice is shaky."My only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray." Stiles stops to cry and swallow away the lump in his throat.
"Keep going," Scott urges. He smiles up at Stiles with his best smile. The one that gets him out of trouble. Its all deep dimpled and crinkly eyes. That's Stiles' favorite smile.
Stiles starts singing again. "You never know, dear, how much I love you," Stiles feels Scott take a deep breath and hold his hand extra tight. "Please don't take my sunshine away."
Scott's grip on Stiles' hand goes lump and his chest stops moving.
"Scott-Scotty?" Stiles shakes Scott's head back and forth. "No, no, no. Don't do this, Scott." Somehow the rain pours down harder. Stiles screams at the top of his lungs. Its so strong the pack can hear it over the lighting that strikes a nearby tree. They just watch on. Derek takes a step forward but is stopped by Peter's hand on his shoulder.
"Don't," He says. Derek stays where he is
Stiles keeps singing until his throat feels raw and he passes out. Derek carries him to the loft and let's his dad know what happened.
When Stiles wakes up he asks if anybody's told Melissa. The pack says no. Stiles tells them he'll do it.
Stiles drive's to Sc-Melissa's house. He knocks and ignores her shock at how he looks.
"Where's Scott?" She asks. She looks at the jeep. "Stiles where is Scott." It's not so much a question as it is a demand.
"Sc-Sc-" Stiles swallows the dryness in his throat. "He didn't make it."
Melissa takes a step back. "What do you mean he didn't make it. Where is my son. This better not be some sick joke Stiles."
He doesn't say anything. He wraps his arms around her as reality hits her and she realizes her son isn't coming home. His food's going to get cold. His dirty laundry isn't getting washed. His shower won't be used. She screams and cries until she, too, passes out. The pack moves to the McCall house. They help Melissa and Stiles out for a while.
After the funeral, which Stiles barely remembers, things get easier. He still finds himself reaching for Scott's hand or looking for the endless trail of dirty clothes after practice. He tries to keep Scott's stuff in a bag to retain the scent but finds himself, and other members of the pack, holding a shirt or a sweater.
Years later the pack can talk about him, about the best alpha they had, and it doesn't hurt as much. Stiles wears the wedding band he and Scott got each other. He thinks-knows- he won't take it off or marry again and he's okay with that.
They all still have their bad days, of course, but they work through it with a simple question: What Would Scott Do?