It took a lot of convincing for Stiles to finally come home with Scott. Stiles had been afraid of hurting his best friend, despite the fact that his best friend was a werewolf. After he'd gotten a little too close for comfort to killing Theo, he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to fully trust himself around anyone again. Also, even after Scott assured him that he could take care of himself, there was still one other concern: Scott's mother. Melissa McCall was still human after all, and he didn't want to hurt her, especially after she'd been like a second mom to him after his own passed away.

Always the optimist, Scott assured Stiles that everything would be alright. Stiles wasn't sure if it was his friend's perpetually positive outlook on life or his own desperation to get out of the sun (though he thinks it was the latter) that convinced him, but either way, he ended up at his best friend's house.

The two hardly spoke to one another on the way there. While Scott had attempted to offer a few words of reassurance, it only made it more abundantly clear that Stiles wasn't exactly in the talking mood.

The first thing that Stiles did when he got there was shower. He didn't care that the blood was gone; he just needed to feel clean again.

He shrugged off his unbuttoned flannel, allowing it to fall to floor before removing the t-shirt that was under it. He removed the rest of his garments before stepping into the shower and turning on the faucet. At first, he just stood there, feeling the hot water spraying his cool skin. He wanted to feel warm, to feel human. Afterward he scrubbed his skin too hard, just wanting to feel clean again, as if he could scrub away the memory of what happened in the bunker.

When he looked down at his feet, he could see red mixed in with the water that moved down the drain. He gasped, before seeing the same blood red on his own hands. No matter how hard he tried to scrub it away, it still stained his skin.

He felt himself then begin to struggle for air, gasping as his lungs were no longer working. Were they even supposed to? He had zoned out for at least half of Deaton's long winded explanation. Either way, it didn't matter as he began to feel an all too familiar tightness in his chest. He felt as if he was going to drown in the very water that poured down from the shower head, but maybe a monster like him deserved to die anyway. If his father knew about the bloodlust, about the urge to kill, would he really still love him? Would Scott ever truly accept him? And God, what would his mother think?

All of these thoughts came flooding at once like the water that began to turn cold, making him aware of the passage of time. He felt like he was going to throw up or pass out. He let himself be aware of the cold water on his skin, connecting him back to reality, after realizing that he was, in fact, having a panic attack. He took deep breaths, focusing on his breathing rather than the voice in his head reminding him that he had lost his humanity.

Eventually, he felt enough control of his own body to turn the faucet off. He exhaled before stepping out of the shower and reaching for a towel. When he dried off and put his clothes on, he tried his best not to think about how he'd inevitably have to go to his Dad's house to get the essentials. After what happened in the woods, he wasn't quite sure how he'd ever face him again.

When he made his way back into Scott's room, Scott looked concerned which was the last thing he wanted. Then again, he couldn't really blame him given how long he was in there.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked.

Stiles nodded, looking at Scott as he stood in the doorframe.

"Yeah. I'm sorry," he said.

Scott shook his head slowly, confused.

"Sorry? For what?" Scott asked.

Stiles broke eye contact with Scott and nervously scratched the back of his neck.

"I️ sorta used all of your hot water," he confessed.

Scott's eyes widened.

"Dude! Are you serious? My mom's gonna be pissed!" he said, hoping that his mother wouldn't want a hot shower after work.

Stiles just shrugged as he made his way into the room.

"So I️'m guessing now would be a bad time to ask for a favor," Stiles said.

Scott sighed.

"What do you need?" he asked.

Stiles began to nervously twiddle his thumbs, not making eye contact with the werewolf.

"I️ need to you to stop by my house and pick up a few things for me. I'll text my dad and let him know what I️ need and that you're stopping by, I️ just can't..." he began before his voice faltered.

He didn't need to finish his sentence. Scott already what he was going to say: he just couldn't see his dad.

At that, Scott stood from the edge of his bed where he was sitting. He stepped toward Stiles, placing a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

"Hey, it's okay. I'll get your stuff for you. Don't worry about it," Scott assured.

Stiles nodded, jaw clenched tightly.

"Thanks, man," he said after a moment of silence.

The two passed the time mostly playing video games, but essentially doing anything to distract Stiles from his new reality. Stiles was especially grateful for this later on when he felt himself growing hungry, and just needed to stay distracted from the alpha's heartbeat and the scent of his blood. He could feel his fangs itching to extend, but he tried to fight them back as much as possible.

That night, he heard the key twist in the door, signifying that Scott's mother was home. Stiles' grew even more anxious, unsure of how much longer he could control himself. He knew that at the very least if he lost control and attacked Scott he could defend himself. With Melissa he wasn't so sure, as she was still human.

"Scott! Stiles! Get down here!" she called.

Stiles was a bit confused at this, as he didn't know she knew that he was there, but he supposed that Scott must've texted her.

Either way, the two boys both did as they were told, making their way down the stairs.

When they got there, they saw Scott's mother, tired looking and dressed in scrubs, standing next to the counter.

"I️ brought you dinner," she said, patting a cooler on the counter.

"Oh, I️ already ate," Scott said.

Melissa shook her head.

"Not you. You," she said, making direct eye contact with Stiles.

She then opened the cooler to reveal that it was filled with blood bags.

"I️ swear that one of these days I'm going to lose my license because of you boys," she said.

Stiles turned to Scott.

"So, I'm guessing you told her everything," Stiles said.

Scott shrugged.

"What was I️ supposed to do?" he asked.

Melissa rolled her eyes.

"Okay, well with the day I've had I️ don't have the energy to deal with any of this, so I'm going to take a hot shower and go to bed. Good night," she said.

At that, Stiles felt another twinge of guilt for using up the hot water.

"Uh, yeah, about that..." Stiles began.

After he explained the situation, he learned that turning into a vampire, needing a place to crash, and requiring his best friend's mom to steal from her job? Fine. Using up all of the hot water? Far from fine.

After Melissa went upstairs and Stiles insisted on Scott going up as well (he really didn't want his best friend to see him feed - even if it was from a bag) he made his way to the cooler and pulled out a bag of AB positive. It wasn't that he didn't feel bad about drinking human blood, it was just that he was far too hungry to even care. He felt bad for noticing that it wasn't as good as fresh blood - as Theo's blood - but it was still sustenance and it was still empty within seconds before he reached for another one. He realized that he should probably pace himself, but he decided to make getting through the night without killing the people who had been gracious enough to open their home to him his number one priority as he drank two more.

He threw away the empty bags and put away the cooler before heading back upstairs and trying not to think about what he now had to do to survive. He was no longer human, and that was going to take a lot of getting used to.