Elena had always known that she cared about Stiles -- obviously she did, he was one of her closest friends, she loved him in a purely platonic way and thought that he felt the same way about her -- but she'd never been quite as aware of it as she was now. Stiles looked absolutely terrified out of his mind and she did that, it was her fault. Tears started to well up in her eyes, but Elena bit her lip hard and forced them back. She was not about to cry in front of Stiles when he needed her to be strong.
"I know you wouldn't have, Stiles, you're not like that, I'm not mad," she promised, repeating the last over and over even as she let him pull away from her. "I'm not mad, I'm not mad, Stiles, I promise I'm not." Elena reached for Stiles again as he staggered backwards, grabbing his hand only for as long as it took to keep him steady, then let him go again. Her hand stayed right next to his, hovering next to him, palm up, ready for him to take her hand if he needed to.