Disclaimer; Do not own Teenwolf,
has not been beta, any mistakes I am happy to change if you let me know.
Enjoy.
"Saturday April 8th... "
Stealing aside glancing at the alarm clock situated on his desk, Stiles whispered to himself, running his fingers through his wet hair that hung clammy to his face.
"18 years...I feel so old. Aha, well congrats on making it this far buddy!" (A.N I know he isn't 18 yet but for this he is.)
Standing a metre away from the mirror he took a moment to study his appearance. The slightly damp towel hung from his waist, water dripping gracefully from the individual strands before on his head racing down his face before silently dropping to the floor.
Taking a deep breath he prepared himself - today was going to be a long day...
Stiles had awoken to the suns kind warm touch on his face through a slit in the frail curtains that fell with precision into his room.
Laying on his desk through the orange array of light was a small, crumpled, but carefully laid out note- "Morning Son, Sorry I couldn't be here when you woke up, hope you understand. Happy Birthday, I will see you when I get home and we can order pizza. -Love Dad." Next to it lay a rectangle package with blue shining wrapping paper neatly folded at each end.
Ripping off the paper in a dramatic, yet gentle fashion, Stiles removed the paper from the box and discarded it on the floor; no doubt where it would stay for the next few days.
Prying the end off the brown tainted box, he pulled out the contents.
Drum Sticks!
(A.N: Just assume Stiles has a Drum kit, thanks.)
There lying in his hands where a set of new drumsticks, he could smell the new scent of furnished wood. Twisting it through his hand he let his fingers touch the smooth varnish coating before holding it to his chest and hugging it tightly; as if to wish a silent 'Thank you' to his dad, in addition making a mental note to say it in person later as well. (Not that he would forget of course!)
After spending a considerable amount of time drying his hair with precision, then throwing on his trademark red (let alone slightly worn) hoodie, he was ready to leave. He had made plans to go to Derek's' for a small gathering with the pack to celebrate.
Plucking his keys off the sideboard, he strode to the door and locking it behind him, carefully checking it was locked before heading to his Jeep.
Before setting off to Dereks'.
Kick starting the car he reversed out of the drive with a loud rumble and puff of black satanic smoke out of the back of the exhaust. Making a note to make sure that he took the car into service within the next few days he left with a stuttering rumble.
Things had been difficult lately, with the whole ware-wolf thing going on, his best friend turning into a furry beast every full moon let alone his girlfriend's dad wanted him dead... It was rather messed up.
Stiles was driving along desolate road that lead to Dereks, there had not been a car in sight for miles.
What was going on?
It wasn't until he came across a cross road that he sensed something bad was going to happen. It was just at that moment- almost like he had sensed the feeling of foreboding that it happened.
Bang!
There was an incredible bang that erupted from the back of his car, big black puffs of smoke billowed out from the exhaust. Unable to keep control of the car he swerved off to the right the car spiralling out of control and skidding right into a tree with an almighty crash.
The window smashed sending glass raining upon the teen, who was helpless to save himself from the shower of glass that was now piercing his arms and face in an attempt to shield himself. The Jeep had turned on it's side in the accident and the Driver door was facing down, preventing an exit.
It was only afterwards he realised that there was a bright orange malevolent glow dancing on the front of his Jeep right by the engine.
Fire.
He stared at his dumbfounded, "this can't be happening" he muttered before scrambling as fast as he could out of the Jeep and lifting himself up out of the passenger door much to his limbs protests. His heart was beating painfully in his chest as his jumper got caught on the handle. Pulling the cloth as hard as he could, only his phone fell out and land right on the other side of the Jeep, deciding that it could be replaced he left it and rushing away from the Jeep he only just made it when the engine exploded- flames and smoke billowed out in a satanic mist that rose above the trees.
Stiles on the other hand had been thrown at least 2 metres from where he was previously running and had landed painfully on his side.
When the smoke had parshally cleared and the shock had finally left him he managed to peer behind him.
It was all gone.
All that remained was debris that was currently alight and black smoke, the heat penetrating the air that was wafting towards him.
Once the adrenaline had worn off, Stiles made an attempt to stand, only to make it part way and then keel over in pain. His ribs made a sharp protest and waves of dizziness submerged his conscience.
Deciding he could spare a few minutes rest on the floor, he laid on the grass and patted his pockets in an attempt to find his phone in order to call someone.
Of course.
Just his luck, it had been blown up along with his baby. Taking a deep breath, he tried to make sense of the situation. Looking around he was aware that he was fully alone, with no means of contact and he had no idea how far away from his destination he was, normally he would just drive down the main road until he got there, it had never occurred to him just how far it would be.
Managing to pull himself up, he started to trek in the direction he thought (well hoped) was Dereks', after realising there wasn't going to be anyone going past any time soon.
It had been 2 hours since Stiles was meant to have arrived and the pack stood there anxiously waiting as Scott spammed Stiles phone with miss calls and voice mails.
"he should be here by now!" Scott shouted in frustration. "what if something has happened to him!" he started pacing in an attempt to calm his nerves as he tried phoning Stiles again for the 11th time. It read "Stiles...It's me Scott, when you get this phone me back, we are all worried." The others stood there anxious and at a loss of what to do/
"I will go look for him" they all looked round as Dereks rough voice penetrated the air.
Without waiting for a reply he walked out telling the others to stay there in case Stiles turned up while he was away.
Taking small Steps Stiles stumbled along the road, it felt like he had been walking for days, the pain in his ribs was almost unbearable and his head was swimming, he felt like a fish out of water with his shortness of breath.
How had everything gone so wrong, and on his birthday as well!" It was growing darker with didn't help with all of the smoke that was still in his lungs making his cough ragged and harsh as he stumbled across the tarmac.
Derek had been running for 7 minutes when it hit him, the smell of burning petrol and immense panic, he was about to ignore it when he smelt Stiles sent.
His heart skipped a beat as he raced towards the scene. There before him was Stiles Jeep, well what was left, smoke surrounding it. Running towards it, he confirmed that Stiles wasn't in it and looked around for another alternative.
Looking around he then saw very small spots of blood, they looked like they were leading away from the car and in the direction of his house...?
Taking off he started to running that direction the scent of Stiles and pain getting stronger with each passing moment.
It was about 3 minutes later he saw him.
"Stiles!" he called out. The small figured turned slowly and with a crooked almost doubled over posture before it collapsed tumbling towards the ground.
Stiles had almost lost the will to walk any further when he heard it, through the semi darkness he heard his name being called, even in his semi concious state he could tell it wasn't him hallucinating.
Turning round to quickly he just caught a glimpse of a tall figure racing towards him when the darkness obscured his vision, 'Derek' he thought to himself before he lost conciousness- crumbling to the floor.
Till next time...