userhobrien replied to your post “Scott knows it’s silly. There’s no reason – the Ghost Riders are in...”
and then one one night, after another unsuccessful fight with Ghost Riders (Liam's gone, Malia and Scott are healing from nasty whip wounds) Scott picks up his phone, dials Derek's number just to hear "hello? who's this?"
The question cracks like a whip down Scott’s spine, and he’s never had a panic attack before, but he’s sure it feels like this -- head swimming, palms going hot, a rush of adrenaline that makes him want to double over.
“It’s Scott,” he says, trying not to sound too tentative. It could be anything -- Derek could've neglected to look at the Caller ID, could've gotten a new phone and lost his number, could’ve --
“Scott what?” Derek asks, voice going low and distrustful and Scott feels his heart catch in his throat, a hard lump that he can’t breathe past. “How did you get this number?”
“It’s Scott, Scott McCall,” Scott answers, watery and weak, and he knows what this is, knows he needs to hang up, figure out what the fuck is going on, but he doesn’t, grips the phone so tightly he can feel the plastic creak like it wants to buckle.
“I think you have the wrong number,” Derek says, voice softening. Scott wonders if he can hear the way Scott’s pulse is pounding.
“Yeah, I... I might,” Scott says. “Sorry, I’ll...” The hand holding the phone goes to his side, but he can’t... bring himself to hang up, needs to hear it when Derek says:
“Yeah, it’s fine,” low and tinny and far away before Scott’s screen lights up red: CALL ENDED.
Scott collapses on the edge of his bed, giving into the weakness of his knees, the way his muscles feel like lead, like he can’t move them even if he tried. His eyes are hot at the corners, hurting from how much they’re burning.
He was so focused on making sure Derek didn’t disappear, Scott never bothered considering he might be forgotten.