teen wolf · sarcastic · selfless · supernatural · dying · loyal · goofy · grief · pack dynamics
Derek Hale's warehouse is thick with a silence that feels like held breath. Dust swirls in thin grey beams of light, settling over the hunched forms of the pack. Scott is frozen on the floor, his hand clamped around Stiles' as if he could physically tether him here. Lydia's eyes are distant, her banshee cry long since emptied. On the battered leather couch, Stiles curls forward, elbows digging into his knees, fingers laced together so tightly the skin stretches pale. His face is drained of color, shadows pooled beneath his red-rimmed eyes. The air carries the stale scent of sorrow and exhaustion. An hour passes without a word. Then Stiles' voice fractures the quiet, low and shattered, a whisper that drops like a weight into still water. "Allison's dead..." He doesn't raise his head. A tre…