Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
( XLVII. HIDDEN TRUTHS )
AMELIE DROVE AROUND BEACON HILLS LIKE A MANIAC. When she had left the animal clinic after confronting Scott, she found Stiles gone. She needed to find him and talk to him, make sure he knew that she wasn't mad at him. How could she? Stiles was the only person in the world who could make her feel better. He was the smartest person she knew and the sweetest. If he had some blood on his hands, then she did too. She would carry that burden with him, just like he did with her.
After hours of driving around, she finally spotted the blue Jeep parked on the side of the road with Stiles on the ground, leaning his back against the wheel. He turned his head at the sound of her car, but he made no movement to stand up.
Slamming her door shut, she walked up to him, kneeling in front of him and extending her hand, "Come on," She whispered, looking into his teary eyes. Hesitantly, he grasped her hand like he was holding on for dear life. When he stood up, she placed her other hand on his cheek softly and gave him a small smile before engulfing him in a hug, which he returned before his body shook uncontrollably and started sobbing.
They took their time. She kept rubbing his back, not leaving his embrace for a second. "It's okay," she whispered. When he finally calmed down, she nodded to her car. They didn't drive off, they just sat together in silence as Stiles called to get his car towed.
The sun was rising as they watched the Jeep being taken away. "Can they fix it?" She asked him, drumming her fingertips against the steering wheel.
"There's not enough duct tape in the world to fix that thing," Stiles said, his voice hoarse.
"Maybe you should try something other than duct tape...?" Amelie suggested, turning to look at him as she started the car and began to drive off.
"It's got a bad alternator, you know... Needs all new belts... Transmission's going... The brake pads are basically metal on metal..."
"How come you let it get so bad?" She furrowed her brows.
"There's been a few distractions, if you haven't noticed," Stiles sighed.
She pursed her lips. How does she tell him that she noticed everything about him? From the way he picked at his nails or shook his legs when he was anxious. "I notice— more than you think I do."
"I know, Ams, I didn't mean..."
"I know. Am I taking you home?" Amelie changed the subject.
"No. Sheriff's station," Stiles shook his head. "I gotta talk to my dad."
She nodded, taking a right turn. The rest of the car ride was silent. As they approached the sheriff's station, Amelie asked, "You want me to go in with you?"
