(closed) behind every door is a fall

[mensrea]

Who: Stiles Stilinski, Jonas Ward, and Sasuke Uchiha
When: Morning of Iuneril 15
Where: Stiles and Jonas’ cottage
What: Surprisingly: not polygamous dating! Stiles finally tells Jonas about Donovan
Warnings: Discussion of an accidental killing made in self-defense, PTSD, related topics

[ After surviving the longest, most agonizing shift at Worse Dragon yet – in an admittedly short period of employment there – he power walks around the city as if his anxiety were nipping at his heels. Though he intended to use this time to construct an ironclad defense should he need one, his mind only whirls in frenetic circles as he repeatedly plays the last memory he has of Scott. Inevitably, like a dog chasing its tail, his frustration and dormant rage build. Stiles burns through it by running, a form of exercise his body protests wearily against, which is how dawn finds him: exhausted mentally and physically, soaked with sweat, and red-rimmed eyes shadowed by deep bruises. He slips into the cottage quietly, hoping that Jonas is asleep, and showers.

Then he sits in the living room, hands wringing thin ropes of silk from his recently developed wrist spinnerets as he waits for Sasuke to arrive and Jonas to come downstairs. At least his thoughts have quieted; his end of the Bond is unnaturally placid. There’s no doubt he’ll become increasingly agitated while talking about Donovan, but for now he can enjoy the eye of the storm. ]

Comments

[coherer]

What the hell? (breathed out of him, mind immediately jumping at the chance to speak between the burst-fire explanation.) Jesus, Stiles.

(what else is there to say? it's frightening, like something out of a horror movie, and not one single person was around to help him? no one knew he was in danger, or even really cared that he was the one who got hurt? that his father might've been killed if he didn't do something this drastic? it's obvious to anyone with ears—anyone with a clue—that this was an accident, a fucked up, traumatizing accident that makes jonas so angry it forces him out of his seat.)

Are you okay? (demanded with a look down over him as though seeing him for the first time, as though stiles has only just emerged from the wreckage in the library, like the wound's still fresh and bleeding.) Wh-Why would– who would– I-I can't believe that. You did what you had to do, obviously! And they wouldn't do the same thing in that position?

Who wouldn't? Would you? (a question for sasuke, one that easily illustrates his point; he has and would again, because he knows the value of that.) Of course you would. I would and I–

(this living room sits, now, three people who cherish their last living relatives. sasuke, with his brother; jonas, with his father; stiles, with the sheriff. no brainer. the gall of scott, of malia. the fucking gall.) Jesus. I'm sorry. (thinking it over is overwhelming, so jonas decides to forgo that and cut to the part where crosses what space is left between them. it's a deep lean, avoiding the pocketknife in his efforts to reach him, the inevitable hug bringing stiles' head to his shoulder.

a press of his nose into brown hair above his ear, eyes narrow and fixed on some insignificant fleck of damaged wallpaper.)

I'm sorry. That must've been– I-I don't know how it must've been. Awful. Fuck.

[eyeforaneye]

[ Sasuke cuts through the scene in his mind several times before Stiles is finished retelling it all, a lifetime of violence and unjustified murder making it far too easy for him to judge it objectively. If asked to apply a criminal label to the scene he'd choose "assault"; what Stiles had done wasn't a crime. He was a victim, it's simple enough.

But it's his feelings for the other teen that slot over his eyes like a lens and repaint the entire scenario, listening to the emotion in his voice that adds a new color to it all, the avoidance in his gaze that hints at nuance. This is more than something so cut and dry, at least in the effect it'll have on everyone here, and it's that that he needs to keep in mind.

Jonas is quick to find the fault in Scott's reasoning, however, and there's a moment of genuine relief that shows only in the tilt of his head, unflinching when he's pointed out and used as an example of the witch's point. He knows the answer; they both do. He's confessed enough to both of them now to make his stance clear, as if it weren't already. If Stiles is guilty then Sasuke is irredeemable and unfit to stay here with them. ]

Stiles– [ Whatever it is he's planning to say seems woefully inadequate in the face of that embrace, one that actually encourages him to tense for a moment as if to stand. Only taking a moment to remember himself keeps him seated – what was he planning to do, join in? That's not his place. ]

... I don't believe you need me to confirm that every word is the truth, but it is. Donovan instigated and Stiles acted as he did out of necessity. It was an accident.

[mensrea]

[ The overwhelming fear of abandonment that has plagued him for nearly half a year, festering without closure, finally comes to a head. Jonas unhesitatingly sweeps him up in an embrace and that nearly undoes Stiles, his breath whooshing out of him in a loud sob of wretched relief. Boneless fingers fumble the pocketknife, which clatters to the floor at their feet. He doesn’t notice; bringing his own arms up around Jonas, Stiles takes what his best friend offers with great, gulping hiccups as tears stream down his face. This is the catharsis he’s been denied for so long, the moment Sasuke began to gently wheedle out of him in the dream before Stiles was torn away. And while normally he prefers to give, prefers to constantly demonstrate his worth so as to not lose the interest or affection of loved ones, he devours the comfort found in this simple hug, desperate for it. Hands clutch wildly at Jonas’ back, creasing his sweater, like he’s afraid his best friend might pull away too soon. Because he’s not ready to let go – feels like he’s only just opened the dam of emotion plugging up his throat, really.

In the background, he hears Sasuke affirm his statements – “It was an accident.” – and blinded through his ugly tears, Stiles reaches over Jonas’ shoulder toward their friend, asking silently for a continuation of what they were denied in the mirror. ]

I told him, [ he babbles, words nearly indecipherable through the huskiness of his voice. ] I kept telling him, but he wouldn’t believe me. I thought we w-were brothers, and he wouldn’t…he wouldn’t… He left me like th-that and I just –

[ Maybe it becomes clear then, what the true trauma of the event has been for Stiles: Scott’s reaction and rejection. ]

It was an accident. But I d-don’t regret it. I can’t lose my dad. And n-now I can’t lose you either, Jonas. [ Stiles shakes. ] You or S-Sasuke. I’m s-sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I just thought –

[ In the end, he doesn’t need to explicitly say it. It’s obvious what he thought, after Scott. ]

[coherer]

(stiles' anguish, felt through the bond, is almost enough to bowl jonas over. his next exhale is audibly distraught, arms tightening when sasuke's reached for. tearily glancing up, finding him still seated and yet relieved his perception of the events that transpired are similar: it was an accident; it was self-defence; it was necessary.

he left wondering if the heartache will ever go away, or if it will be shared between them now. jonas doesn't hesitate to press the lower half of his face down against stiles' shoulder before his head raises altogether to fuss at his clothes as though smoothing them out will keep them steady. it's better to focus on than the tremble in his friend's voice, jerking his head into a shake that'll no doubt mirror sasuke's.)

No, this is not your fault. You don't have to apologize at all, ever, to anyone about it. (a tighter grip is taken of his arm, just around the bicep where jonas is sure he can hold him upright if his strength gives out.) You're not gonna' lose your dad, you're not gonna' lose Sasuke, and I'm not going anywhere either, alright? Scott and Malia? They– they clearly had unresolved issues to work through on their own.

–heads up their asses. (muttered with a tight tension that shows along his jaw.) Let's sit, though, okay? It's better that way, c'mon–

(that's what he says, but stiles is guided in sasuke's direction a few more steps. if he wants him, he'll gladly make sure he makes it over there.)

Man, thank you. (an aside to his first bonded, red-rimmed eyes only lowering to search for what he'd like to say. it comes out disjointed, but honest. always honest, and—with sasuke—always ) You– when I... I couldn't be there, you were. Backing him up... that's– it just means a lot to me.

[eyeforaneye]

[ Sasuke's brow furrows when sobs shudder out of Stiles in a great release of emotion, feeling it as it washes over him and finding himself paralyzed between the desire to guard himself against it and let it in. It's a fitting reflection of what he'd experienced with him in the mirror, only now they're uninterrupted and he has someone more capable of providing him with the gentle patience that he needs.

"You're not gonna' lose Sasuke."

That promise combined with Stiles's hand reaching for him is daunting, far more so than threats of violence, death, or harm. This targets his greatest weakness rather than his greatest strength and the thought of making a promise he's well-aware he can't keep is repulsive when his friend needs support now more than ever.

But maybe what matters is now and convincing himself that he can. If Stiles can be brave enough to say what he needs to... can't he do the same?

Sasuke finally stands, an abrupt movement once Jonas has directed him closer, and steps forward to plant a firm hand on the arachne's upper arm. Not a full embrace, no, but a reassurance with a brief squeeze. ]

... he's my friend. [ Eyes skirt from Jonas to Stiles, brow still knit but expression otherwise unreadable. ] Both of you are. So it's what I'll continue to do.

[mensrea]

[ Eyes still burning hot with tears, he begins to make the slow, painstaking ascent to pseudo-normalcy. Despite his more sensitive nature, Stiles is wholly unaccustomed to friends who actually acknowledge and respond to his emotional outbursts. Even Scott – True Alpha, can-do-no-wrong Scott McCall – normally just shoots him a pained and awkward look as if to say, “Pull yourself together, dude.” His ex-best friend used his werewolf abilities to absorb pain more on strangers than he ever did on Stiles – something that the Arachne is beginning to scrutinize more closely with the distance between them now. So, for Jonas to take the time to console him like this… Well, he’s sorely tempted to allow himself to break down fully. Just for a little. Just for a while. But though he understands logically it wouldn’t be selfish to, he still balks at the idea of leaning that heavily on Jonas. The Bond must be suffocating enough as it is. He’s dealt with this silently for the past six months; Stiles can learn how to unload bit by bit so as to not overwhelm either of them.

Jonas guides them toward where Sasuke sits and, at the touch of a hand on his arm, Stiles manages a watery grin in the direction of the Vampire. As ridiculous as he feels right now, with his face blotchy red from crying and his nose stuffed up, he can’t muster up the usual energy to be self-conscious. Not in front of these two, not right now. He’s so damn lucky to have met them – to have befriended them – sentiments of which he wants to voice, corny or not. ]

…Thanks, [ he says instead, addressing them. The hands that had been fiercely clutching at Jonas release the young man to wipe at his face. ] F-for listening to me. Both of you.

[ Inhaling deeply, he gives himself a moment to dry his eyes on the shoulder of his shirt before turning again to Jonas, expression grim. ]

I think…you already get it, but I need to be explicit about it so there’s no misunderstandings. I was glad when I realized that Donovan was dead. That I wouldn’t have to try helping the guy who wanted me and my dad dead. I know that probably makes me a little fucked up as a person, but it’s the truth.