The heartbeat that Scott knows so well, that he’s become accustomed to hearing all the time, like a known fact of his life, is slowing to a halt.
Scott can hear the the rest of the pack crowded in the hospital room, the scents of grief and shock strong in the air. Scott holds on to Stiles’ hand, the black trails on his own arm disappearing to nothing. He’s not drawing any more pain because Stiles… isn’t… isn’t…
"No," Scott says, refusing to believe it. There are people talking around him, but it’s like he’s underwater; everything seems so far away. He catches a few whispers around him—
we’re going to have to move him to the morgue in a few hours—
just let him grieve, I’ll make the excuses—
Scott notices everyone has left the room and he’s alone— no, not yet, Scott thinks miserably. Stiles is still here with him; he’s still warm, he’s not— he can’t be gone—
Scott crawls into the hospital bed next to him, pressing his forehead to Stiles’, holding on, refusing to let go. He takes his hand again, curling his fingers around Stiles’ palm, concentrating on taking the pain, even if it’s pointless, if he can’t hear Stiles’ heartbeat anymore…he doesn’t care, he wants to just do something.
Scott falls asleep and doesn’t notice the slight trails of black flickering up his arms again.
Scott wakes up to a raspy voice that should be impossible. “Hey, Scotty.”
Stiles is looking at him, face worn and tired but he’s alive and okay and Scott doesn’t even know what to say, he’s just wraps his arms around Stiles and holds on to him tight, trembling at the warm reality that is Stiles. Scott doesn’t want to let go, too afraid to find out that this is a dream—
"I missed you too, okay— you’re kind of squishing me here, can’t breathe—"
Scott relaxes a little, and Stiles smiles fondly at him. “I love you,” he says, simple and easy, like it should be— but—
They’ve said it before, and they’ve always known, but today it carries a certain weight. Scott doesn’t want to think about the possible consequences, of what might have happened, what almost happened, just wants to change the heaviness of the moment.
"I know," Scott says. He waits a beat, and then Stiles’ jaw drops.
"You did not— did not just Han Solo me," Stiles says.
"I don’t know what that means," Scott replies, feigning ignorance, but Stiles sees right through him.
"You watched Star Wars. Oh my God, this is the best day of my life," Stiles says.
"Yeah," Scott says, squeezing his hand, glad that Stiles is okay. "Mine too."