Through his tear-filled eyes, Stiles observed all the people standing around his father's casket at his funeral.

Parrish, Clark, Grant, and his others deputies stood at one side. There were evident tears in all their eyes, but Parrish was the only one who seemed truly affected by it.

Next to them was Chris Argent. Melissa McCall. Natalie Martin. Malia. Kira. Liam.

By his side was Scott. Lydia was on the other side, staring up at him with tear-filled eyes. Scott was looking between him and the casket, tears dripping on his cheeks.

Scott looked over at Stiles just in time for them to make eye contact. Stiles looked like a mess - red eyes, wet cheeeks, his entire body shaking with sobs. Scott let out a shaky breath, his eyes looking over his best friend. Stiles knew that Scott pitied him, but he also knew that Scott was almost as sad as Stiles. Sheriff was like a second, better father to him.

Stiles' mind was a million places. His heart ached. The second his father died he felt something carved out of his heart. It was the same feeling he felt when he lost his mother, except now it was just bigger.

He had lost both of his parents. And nothing would be able to fill that void in his heart.

Stiles had to turn his head away when they began to lower the casket into the ground. He let out a sob, his teardrops mingling with the rain falling from the sky. He couldn't bear to watch his father go in the ground. Once he was in the ground, it was official.

Another sob escaped Stiles' throat. The feeling of holding his father's dead body flashed back into his mind. He remembered every detail unnaturally vivid. He remembered the feel of his hot blood seeping onto his hands as he tried to save his life. He remembered the bang of the gunshot as it flew straight towards his heart. He remembered the unbelievable, heart wrenching pain that clenched his soul when he could no longer feel his pulse.

I could've saved him, Stiles thought to himself. I could've been there for him. I could've taken the bullet.

"Something," he whispered to himself, wiping away a tear. "I could've done something."

Suddenly, he felt Scott's hand on his shoulder. Stiles looked up into Scott's tear filled eyes. His eyes glanced back over to the ground. His father's casket was no longer visible.

It felt different than Stiles' had expected. He expected pain unlike no other, but, instead, he just felt empty. His heart felt hollow.

Scott then engulfed Stiles' into his arms. Stiles felt a comfort in Scott's arm, so he returned the gesture, wrapping his arms around his body and burrowing his head into his shoulder. His tears leaked onto Scott's suit.

"You couldn't have done anything, Stiles," Scott whispered, a few tears leaking from his eyes.

Stiles shook his head, which was still buried in Scott's shoulder. He didn't know how to respond to that. He tried to open his mouth to reply, but instead he choked out a sob. Scott hugged him tighter.

After a few, long seconds, they broke apart. Through blurry, tearful eyes, he observed Scott's face. There were teardrops wetting his face, and the rain falling from the sky had dampened his hair. He looked broken, too.

"Stiles..." Scott began, trying to comfort him. He didn't know what to say, so he just gave him a sympathetic look.

"Y'know," Stiles mumbled, his voice cracking. "I could've done something. I... I was there. I could've done something - anything."

Scott shook his head. "Don't talk like that, Stiles."

Stiles used the back of his hand to wipe away tears. "The guy who killed him... he's still out there."

Scott put his hand on Stiles' shoulder. "I promise we'll find him one day, but, you need some time to mourn. Don't
... don't go straight into a revenge plot. It's not good for you."

Maybe Scott was right. Maybe he did need some time to mourn. But, Stiles wasn't thinking straight. Every single bone in his body was consumed with sadness.

He wanted to make sure no one else had to feel that sadness because of some deranged street criminal.

Stiles shrugged. "Yeah, maybe."

Scott gave him a small smile. "You know I'm there for you, right?"

Stiles smiled through the tears. "Yeah, I know."

"Good," Scott replied.

Stiles walked away. He didn't want to deal with everyone else's pity. He had heard it too many times. He walked away towards his Jeep, his shoulders shaking with sobs. Something. He had to do something.

He jumped in his car and drove away. His entire body was wracking with sobs.

Soon, he was back at his house. He was planning on selling it, knowing he wouldn't be able to pay mortgage, but, he couldn't let go.

Not yet.

He barreled through his house, peeling his wet suit from his skin. Soon, he was shirtless and falling onto his bed. He didn't make it all the way I onto the mattress, he was one his knees on the floor with his head buried in the sheets. He continued to cry not knowing what else to do.

Stiles turned his body around, pressing his back against his bed. He put his head in his hands. When his mother died, he had his father. But, now he didn't have any family left.

Stiles stood up, walking over to the clear board. It was still covered in red tape and pictures. Stiles, with a sudden burst of anger, tore the pictures and tape down.

Stiles didn't know what he was doing. His brain wasn't working properly. He took the white marker and wrote on the board.

Find the man who killed my father.

He let out another sob. He then picked up a piece of paper and fell onto the chair at his desk. He stared down at his wrist, and let a spiderweb shot out of it. He had these powers, he had do something.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. He grabbed a pen and began to sketch it onto the piece of paper, his tears mingling with the ink.

That's not good enough, Stiles thought. He grabbed another piece of paper and began to sketch on that. After that, another one.

After an hour, he had taped all of his sketches to the clear board. It was a blur of reds, blues, and blacks.

He has been designing different suits. Something that would mask his identity, let him have better control over his powers, and protect him from bullets. He wasn't sure how it was all going to work out, but he had an idea in his head.

Stiles scribbled something down on the board, then took a step back to examine his work.

He was going to become Spider-Man

---

Guess who finally stopped procrastinating and wrote a new chapter?

The spidey suit is finally here! Next chapter Stiles will start building the suit.

Also, I'm so close to 7k reads??
Thank you so much! Especially to all the people who comment and vote every chapter, it means so much to me!

Love y'all

- Holli