One afternoon in 2017 a Boston manager made me realise the difference between straight and curly quotation marks/apostrophes (consider the difference between "x" and “x”) and my life has not known peace since. 😭

Stiles Stilinski- Something to live for

The metal tray clashed to the floor with a vibrating smash, sending shock waves throughout the room as the utensils resting on top of it scattered around the room, hiding under the bed, under the chairs and the machines dotted around to be out the way of Stiles' wrath. The chair sitting calmly next to the bed was next to be tossed out of its place, thrown onto its side resting up against the wall just below the window. The clattering added with the violent screams that left his lips being a siren that sounded throughout the corridor. Alerting Scott, Noah and Melissa who had been a few feet away after Stiles had insisted he needed time without them hovering around too.

Slamming the door open Scott felt his heart breaking in his chest as he gasped like he was having an asthma attack which had not happened in a long while. His body propelling forward onto the shimmering white tiled floor, hands grasping at the needle which Stiles had in his hand, almost pushing it through the skin and into his vein. Throwing the lethal utensil filled with air across the room Scott felt tears overriding his system as he pulled Stiles against him despite his limbs flying around in protest. Ignoring the screams that burst through his ears and bounced off the walls inside his head. Keeping his arms securely locked around his best friends frame as he felt the tears staining into his shirt which he ignored. But the thing that Scott simply couldn't ignore was the almost silent pleas that were leaving Stiles' lips on a loop, low enough that he knew his father wouldn't hear but his best friend would.

"Let me go with her." Pleading with Scott to give him the relief that he was craving in his shocked state, wishing there was some part of Scott that would let him but he knew there wasn't

"Stay with us, Stiles. I've got you, I've got you, ssshhh." The words quietly passing from Scott's lips to Stiles' ears, wishing he wouldn't think that way, but Stiles could see no alternative at this moment and Scott could not blame him in any possible way. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Stiles shifted his gaze from the window over to Melissa who had entered the room almost silently, not wanting to scare or disturb him. Having been called round by the sheriff who was frightened that his son was not getting any kind of sleep. All he did was sit in her room, perched on the window seat and stared out into the night sky, or the morning light as if he was watching his favourite tv show without showing any emotions whatsoever.

No one could break him out of the cycle. Scott had tried. He had talked to Stiles, told him what was going on, new things that were happening, asking for help with the supernatural, trying to get him to read comics or watch some tv, anything and everything he could think of that Stiles enjoyed. It was useless, Stiles hadn't spoken since that night. He barely managed to eat anything, only drinking enough to keep him going through the torturous days. His eyes had rings of black underneath them as the veins in his eyes were more prominent than ever. Lydia had come round, tried to hug him and console him but he didn't respond, not even responding to anything Noah said to him which broke his heart into pieces more than it had been broken already.

"Hey Stiles, your dad tells me your not sleeping, I brought some medicine to give you to help." She stated gently, walking in and sitting on the edge of the window seat by his feet as Noah stood in the doorway watching carefully. Wondering if this would be the day that Stiles said something, breaking his streak of being mute which no one used to.

Reaching into her medical bag which she brought with her Melissa pulled out a bottle of pills, thinking over whether to leave them in here or give them to him at all given how he had tried to push air into his veins to take his life that night. Pills might be something he desired to have another attempt. Looking to Noah and back again she stuffed them into her pocket, planning to give them to the sheriff in a moment so he could regulate giving them to Stiles just to be on the safe side. Looking through her bag she pulled out a needle and a medicine bottle, the liquid form of sleeping tablets. Filling the needle with a regulated amount she gently took hold of Stiles' wrist, eyes locking with his asking if she was alright to go ahead seeming as he didn't seem to notice what she was doing. Seeing she was trying to give him something, a kind of shimmer crossed his eyes, one that Melissa had never seen before and one that she didn't like either, hoping not to come across it again

"Will it kill me?" Melissa took in a large gulp of air, feeling her hands begin to shake as she pulled away from him ever so slightly it was almost unnoticeable. The first thing that Stiles had said in just over two weeks happened to be something that sounded so dark and malicious yet with not a lot of tone or emotion to it at all. It was like he was being possessed all over again. Hearing those words come from his son Noah turned around, hand clamping over his mouth as tears fell from his eyes, he couldn't lose Stiles as well, he just couldn't.

"No honey, It's just to help you sleep." She responded, her voice coming out uneven as she gently pulled his wrist closer to her when he suddenly ripped his wrist from her hand, wrapping his arms around his chest as he seemed to sneer at her.

"Then I don't want it." He spat through gritted teeth, turning his head away from her dismissively as he rested his head against the window, glaring out at the view it was giving him. Waiting silently for her to leave, both adults knowing this was the only thing they were going to hear from him and it broke them completely to hear it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Because she's my twin and I don't want to live without my other half!" The words tore from Stiles' throat, burning his lungs from the volume and the adrenaline that the words caused to shoot through his system. His tears acting like acid, burning into his eyes and his skin as they trailed down his features, a river that has broken through the dam protecting it. His face turning red from the blood coursing through his veins as his head was bursting at the seams with emotions and memories that he didn't want.

A shallow breath left Noah's lips as he hadn't heard those words in a while, the words that tore through his system and brought back the memories that he had treasured so much before, the ones that simply broke his heart to think about now.

The memories of when it was a simpler time. How Stiles and Isabelle had shared birthday parties even when they turned seventeen, how they always insisted on sharing a cake like when they were little. How the pair of them make a lot of trouble for Noah yet in his heart he never minded because they were his troublesome twins. How one never went anywhere without the other, always needing their twin by their side to feel better or at ease. How he had taught the pair of them to drive the jeep that had once been their mothers. The jeep they shared rather than having a car each.

Noah remembered the talks he had with the pair of them, how it had been so hard to tell them yet, in the end, it had worked out better than he thought. How, a few years after their mother had died, Noah decided it was time to come clean to them, not being able to hide it anymore. Having to sit them both down and tell them that Isabelle wasn't actually Stiles' biological twin, how she wasn't actually his or Claudia's biological daughter altogether. He remembered seeing the broken look on Stiles' face as he suddenly let out a petrifying scream of denial that almost put cracks into the walls. Demanding to know why and how this happened, leading Noah to have to tell them that when Stiles was eight months old, Noah had been called to a scene to find a car had driven off the road and crashed. The man inside dead on the scene but his seven-month-old daughter somehow alive, and how her mother had died a few months previous. Something inside Noah told him he needed to look after her, which is exactly what he had done. Adopting the girl as his own and simply telling people she and Stiles were twins, due to being almost the same age, it made no difference to them.

Stiles didn't want to believe it, they always thought they looked partially alike, they were the same height, had the same hair colour, the same eyes, they just had to be twins. He wouldn't talk to Noah for days, shutting himself away from everyone except for Isabelle until their pair came to the conclusion that they were still twins, they had been brought up that way and were always going to be twins, the DNA didn't make a difference, no one else had to know. Shared birthdays continued, going everywhere together continued, sharing the jeep continued as per usual. And Noah had never been more relieved and happy. They had lost Claudia due to a terrible condition that could not be treated or slowed down, leading to her forgetting who the twins and Noah were a lot of the time, and when the twins were at such a young age too. Stiles wasn't prepared for losing his sister as well. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tears of a different kind left Stiles' eyes as he subconsciously rocked himself back and forth slowly, an old coping mechanism he hadn't seemed to have forgotten as he tried to calm down his breathing that was running away without him. His eyes glued to the tiny baby resting in his arms who resembled a doll made of glass that he was terrified would break if he made one wrong move whilst cradling her. His arms holding the sleeping baby to his chest for comfort as he sat on the window seat that was piled with cushions like it always had been.

His mind felt a sense of peace and calmness for the first time in over a month that Stiles never thought he would feel again for the rest of his life. Although he could still feel the emotions he had felt when his eyes first set on the baby now in his arms. How he had seen her when she was hooked up to a life support machine in the intensive care unit for premature children. How, somewhere in the back of his mind, he had screamed at the baby, wishing that she had been the one to die in place of his sister, wondering why God had chosen her to live and left Isabelle to die. Wondering if it was so he could torment Stiles, to toy with his emotions and push him to the brink of death like his twin. He hadn't been able to bring himself to look at her for more than two seconds before he simply walked away without a single care as to whether she would live or die and join Isabelle.

Everyone knew how he felt, and none of them could blame him for it. They had seen the look in his eye before he turned and walked out of the hospital never wanting to return. The resentment towards the child who had been abandoned, the only person willing to save her being the man who had saved her mother all those years ago.

Stiles wouldn't listen when people tried to tell him that the baby was doing okay, he wished himself to die partly due to his thoughts that were wishing the same upon the baby everyone was fussing over. It just didn't seem fair, the scales of life were tipping the wrong way and Stiles could do nothing to restore order back to them. He had been there when Isabelle had gone into labour, he had held her hand, he had cried with her and then for her when she had left him. He never let go of her hand during the time Scott tried to give her the bite, failing as she simply rejected it, not having the energy to fight anymore, simply giving up and allowing death to creep in and take her away.

There was a feeling like his heart had simply snapped in half in his chest, leaving him to suffer through a panic attack as he screamed for death to take him as well if he wouldn't give Isabelle back. Stiles had had Isabelle by his side throughout his life, he had no default setting built in, he didn't know how to live if she wasn't there by his side anymore. He had nothing to live for.

Until now. The moment she had been placed into his arms Stiles had felt his heart mend itself in a matter of seconds, her being the only medicine she needed to restore a big part of him. Stiles had a part of Isabelle with him, he hadn't lost her forever, she had left him a piece of her so he didn't have to walk it alone anymore, and that he would never have to again. Stiles had his niece with him, someone for him to care for and look after with all of his heart, even if there was a huge part of his heart missing, he would give the rest of it to her. Noah didn't have to worry over Stiles anymore, Isabelle had made sure of that.

"Claudia." The raven-haired boy whispered, running his finger delicately over the baby girl's cheek as she pushed her head slowly against his skin as if nodding in agreement. She had gone long enough without a name. "Belle would have wanted you to be named in memory of mum."