You think you’re so tough. Now watch me take this prompt out of context and make it Scott/Stiles because you didn’t give me the name of a second character so I’m gonna assume this is what you wanted, right. Right.
Scott has been shot, stabbed, thrown through walls, and breathed poison into his lungs. He’s stared up at the rocking interior of an ambulance at the age of ten after forgetting to take his inhaler to school, heard his mother sobbing in relief when the doctors said he’d be okay. He’s felt fire eating away at his flesh while others screamed and burned around him (Peter’s memories forced into his head, but they were real for Peter and that night in the locker room they were real for him too).
He thinks he knows death like a stranger you keep running into, someone you pass on the street and lock eyes with every day before you hurry past, refusing to engage. Death is the friend he hasn’t made yet, who keeps brushing by him with a sound like distant wings.
So when Stiles says “I want to try it. Just this once,” Scott shivers as if a feather has just been traced down his spine.