@unsolvedcase·: ‘i wanted you to stay.’
“we can’t all get what we want.” uncaring is the attitude he wields far too comfortably now, half sword / half shield. a protection from someone seeing his vulnerabilities and a knife to someones throat, telling them they’re unwanted, telling them to beware, to stay back. he wonders if stiles notices the clenching of his jaw, the tenseness along the muscles of his fingers or even the bruises peeking out from underneath his sleeves.
his mind flashes back to all the promises of staying, to all the soft touches, to the love that radiated between two boys who didn’t know how to love themselves but somehow managed to love each-other.
run, his mind screams (it sounds like her. like the woman he left stiles for. like the woman who promised things would be different this time. god, what a fool he was to beleive her), run or you’ll stay. or you’ll ask for it all back. you’re weak. you know you are. this isn’t your home anymore. he isn’t your home.
“it had to happen. you know it did.” i wanted to stay. i want to stay. would you welcome me with open arms? is there still a space by your side that i would fit into? can i heal what i have broken? “you’ll get over me. us. i know you will.”
SITTING TURNS INTO STANDING; there’s a laugh that escapes past chapped lips that sounds incredibly bitter, tastes that way too, frustrated hands rub the back of his neck with a little too much force as he paces the floor of the living room they once shared. the room that was once home to a blanket fort that sitles made so isaac’s son would be more comfortable with him ( stiles ripped it down in anger the moment they left ) and that turned into sneaking chocolate in the middle of the night which turned into him loving that boy like he was his own.
adoption papers still rest, hidden in his bedside table, that feels like a lifetime ago.
“ no, nothing had to happen. you’re just afraid of her. ” he’s done tip toeing around him, he’s done saying it’s okay and that he understands because he doesn’t and he never did, he never thought that she was going to treat him right but seeing the bruises, knowing that he was right for believing she wasn’t going to change --- he’s done, plus he was right but that’s for another time. “ your dick attitude isn’t going to work on me either, you dick. you put him back in that situation, i know that you don’t want him to grow up without a mother -- it sucks but it only sucks when your mother actually loves you and isn’t using you as a tool to get your father to stay so she can continue to abuse him. ” he’s never been good at keeping his mouth shut, filter never exist nor does he give a fuck. deep breath, trying to swallow the anger that continues to build, his skin hot from it, it doesn’t work. he only gets angrier. stiles knows he’s not the best guy for isaac, he’s not the best guy for his son, or anyone for that matter but he’s not going to do ---- that to them.
he reaches forward, pulling up the sleeves of isaac’s shirt. “ this is what you want your son to be around? why? i love you, you asshole and you left to go be with --- ” voice gets softer, eyes grow warmer as he looks at the bruises, actually looks at them. he hates her, he wants her dead. “ --- with this, isaac. him being around her, around this, is only going to destroy him. if you go back there i will kill her with my bare hands, isaac. ” he’s not sure if he’s joking or not.
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