Stiles feels the hands on his shoulders, and for a moment isn't sure what's real and what's a vision anymore. The tears are flowing freely down his face, and it's obvious he's had nothing but bad times in this place.

"Scott?"

He croaks his best friend's name, looking up at him slowly, before struggling to his feet. Everything is hot and dizzy right now, and he's losing his grip again.

But then, he's staggering into Scott, throwing one arm around his shoulders helplessly. Help me, hold me up, I need you, I'm sorry, I'm an idiot, don't leave me here. All unspoken in that one gesture.