"I never hated you." He says softly, as Stiles says he couldn't--still can't, sometimes--stand the sight of himself in the mirror. "I never blamed you, Stiles... It wasn't your fault, it was never your fault." Not that he expects Stiles to believe that, but to Scott, it was the truth. Always had been.
The sob that escapes Stiles rips through Scott like a knife because he can literally feel the sorrow and the sadness hanging thick in the air between them. It takes everything not to move and wrap his arms around him, to try to squeeze away all the pain his best friend--because he was, he still was, he never really stopped considering him such--was feeling.
"I'm sorry."
His voice sounds so broken that it hurts to even hear. Scott slowly gets to his feet again as Stiles asks him to tell him how to fix it. He doesn't have an answer, not really. There are so many problems between them, who could know where to start. "I don't know." he says softly, closing the distance between them, wrapping his arms around him, squeezing tightly, years of mixed emotions pouring out into it. "Try starting with actually being around."