Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Teen Wolf characters.
A/N: So this is a direct continuation of my story Coyote Blue. If you haven't read that, then this one might not make a whole lot of sense. Anyways, you can expect lots of AJ, Derek, Lydia, and Peter shenanigans, as well as my new character Robbie. Hope you enjoy. If anyone cares, I've graduated nursing school and now have a job, woot woot. That's why I now have time to write again. :)
ROBBIE
Moving to Beacon Hills was supposed to be a fresh start. We could reinvent ourselves, according to my mother. No one would know about the crap that we had been through.
I want you to be happy, Mom had said. I want you to have a good life, to have friends, to have a new start. Beacon Hills will be that for us.
We'd been here for a little more than a month. So far I had one potential friend, a boringly normal life, and what was amounting to the same high school experience all over again.
I wasn't a big guy. I wasn't strong, fast, or good looking. I had crazy brown hair that curled out of control and an unremarkable face. I didn't even have a particular skill set that would make me cool or be my "thing."
I mean, I was smart, but in high school, smart doesn't get you very far. My mom always said that in college, people finally realize that hard work and brain power is what makes a successful person. But I wasn't in college. I was stuck in high school where the cool factor came from what you looked like, or what you drove, or what sport you played.
I was frighteningly unordinary and skinny to boot, which made me the perfect target for "having a little fun" according to Ryan and his group of thugs. Which is why I was stuck inside a stinky gym locker, and Ryan and his friends were outside of it, laughing.
"We'll come let you out tomorrow," Ryan said, slapping a hand against the locker door and making me jump in the cramped darkness.
Did these morons have any idea of the consequences of leaving someone in a locker overnight? If I didn't come home tonight, my mom was going to kill me. She would freak out, call the police, make them find me, and then kill me. But I couldn't say that without sounding like a mama's boy, so I said nothing at all.
The locker room door opened. I couldn't see anything aside from the little rays of light coming through the downward sloped slats, but my hopes shot up anyway, because I was thinking maybe it was someone who could help.
"Nothing to see here," Ryan said. A stretch of silence. "Beat it." I dearly hoped whoever was on the other side would realize that something was wrong and would to go get help.
"Robbie," someone said slowly. Oh my god. AJ. He'd somehow found me. AJ wouldn't just ignore me, maybe. He'd go get a teacher or something. He wasn't scared of Ryan.
"AJ," I called back, hating how panicked my voice sounded. Like clockwork, my stutter came back full force. "I'm in t-t-the locker-r."
"Oops," Ryan said, and I could perfectly picture the stupid smirk he probably had on his face as he said it.
"Oops is right, asshole," AJ said. Uh-oh. AJ sounded...AJ sounded mad. And I'd heard stories of what happened when AJ got mad.
"AJ," a girl murmured quietly. My face heated instantly. There was a girl in the boys locker room, and not only that, but she was witnessing my humiliation. God. No wonder I didn't have any friends.
"AJ?" I called out, tired and embarrassed. I was thinking maybe it was better if he just left me here, but I couldn't quite get the words out. There was another long stretch of silence. I wondered if they'd left.
"Fuck it," AJ snarled, and then the silence exploded into noise. Oh dear lord, what was happening?
After it was all said and done, the vice principal asked me the exact same thing. "So what happened?" he asked, resting his elbows on his desk and steepling his fingers. I sat in his office, trying to stop shaking.
It was harder to explain to the vice principal what had happened. I mean, it was one thing to have classmates see you get bullied. But then to turn around and explain to an adult that you weren't able to stand up for yourself and make people leave you alone...it's just worse, somehow.
Plus, I was probably going to get suspended. AJ too, and it would be all my fault.
Outside the office, in waiting area, Ryan and his friends were sitting as far away as they could get from AJ. AJ, for his part, seemed content to send them this kind of arctic, bored glare. Like if they messed with him again, he'd do more than just beat the crap out of them.
And he totally had, beat the crap out of them, I mean.
One second, I'd heard a girl's voice, telling him to stay calm. Then AJ had, in spectacular fashion, not stayed calm. There were grunts and blows and yelling, and all of a sudden someone was pounding on the locker and ripping the door off its hinges.
AJ had stood in front of me, tossing the mangled metal aside like it was nothing. He'd been breathing hard, and his face and hands had been a mess, but the four boys lying on the ground around him had been in worse shape.
The strangest thing had been his eyes, though. They had been kind of bright, in a crazed rage-y kind of way. AJ had stared at me for a long moment before his face went carefully blank, like he'd just dropped a wall in front of whatever he was feeling inside. His eyes had flicked back towards the girl standing in the doorway. She had, of course, been watching with a dropped jaw. And when the gray shifted back to me, his eyes had calmed from full-on rage down to a cold ferocity.
He'd held out a bloody hand, the knuckles mangled something awful. "Come on," he'd said, all quiet and tired. I'd hesitated for half a beat then had reached out and grabbed him, letting him lever me out of the cramped locker.
"T-t-thanks," I'd told him, all breathless and hating how I stuttered when I was scared or nervous.
"Derek's going to kill me," he'd muttered, almost sadly. I'd heard about Derek Hale. I was new in town, but Beacon Hills High School had a serious gossip problem, because some of the first things I'd heard were about Crazy Derek Hale and about the strange, wild boy who'd somehow survived in the woods for eight years.
For a moment, I'd wondered if AJ regretted helping me. If that would be the end of my first, tentative quest for a friend. But AJ must not have been too upset about the whole thing, because as we walked past Ryan, AJ kicked him in the ribs again. "Leave Robbie the fuck alone," he'd hissed, menacing and hard. God, I'd wanted to be like him so bad.
Of course, I didn't tell the vice principal about that last part.
After I finished my version of the event, the vice principal just sat back and stared at me thoughtfully. Then he looked out over the boys in the waiting area. I wondered if what he saw matched up with what I saw. "We don't condone violence here at Beacon Hills," he said finally. "I understand the circumstances are...unusual, but we do have a zero tolerance policy."
I swallowed hard, looking at my hands.
The vice principal sighed. "I've called your parents. You're not at fault, so you're free to go when they get here."
I rubbed my hands over the legs of my jeans, working up the courage to ask. "And AJ?" I squeaked out.
He sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "AJ's behavior was unacceptable, however justified as it may have seemed. I've already spoken to his guardian regarding the consequences." He held up a hand when I started to protest. "This isn't his first offense, and I'm sure it won't be his last. Right now, you should focus on doing your best at school and catching up in your classes." The weary way he talked about AJ made me wonder just how often AJ got called to his office.
Movement in the entry of the waiting area drew both of our attention. My stepfather, Jim, walked in, looking tired and embarrassed. He was followed closely by a man that honestly didn't look too much older than me.
The man's eyes flicked around the room, carefully cataloging the injuries of Ryan's group before settling on AJ. Oh. This was Derek Hale, then. He was tall and stocky, but he moved with unexpected fluidity and grace for a man of his size. I could see where AJ got it from. A dark stubble covered his strong jaw, and wrinkles made his heavy brow dark with displeasure. I remembered very clearly after the fight when AJ had said, "Derek's going to kill me" in a sad, dull voice. Derek radiated stark disapproval as he crossed his arms and studied AJ, but he didn't seem as crazy as the rumors I'd heard made him out to be.
The vice principal stood and motioned for me to head out into the waiting room. He followed behind me closely. I hesitated in the doorway, seeing the damage of the fight up close.
AJ was sitting stiffly in the chair. He had some blood on his face, and one eye looked pretty bad. But his hands looked worse. They were kind of bloody and bruised and swollen.
My fault.
Guilt shot through me, and I slid my eyes away from AJ. By chance, I glanced back up at Derek, only to do a double take when I found he was watching me. His eyes were green and piercing, and even though I didn't know him, it felt like he was staring straight into my brain and measuring me up. I couldn't look away, but eventually his eyes went back to AJ, and I let out a breath I didn't even know I'd been holding.
The vice principal put a kind hand on my shoulder and steered me all the way out of his office. I avoided looking at Jim, because I knew he'd be disappointed, so I looked at Ryan's group instead.
They were all staring studiously at their feet, bloody noses, black eyes, split lips, and bruises abounding. It didn't look like AJ had done any heavy damage, which was probably for the best. Though, they definitely knew who won the fight.
Savage satisfaction shot through me at the thought. Then it was dampened when Derek Hale cleared his throat. "Car. Now," he said slowly, but he didn't sound mad, just disappointed. AJ stood slowly, not even looking at me as he walked towards the door. He just glowered at Ryan's group, as if daring them to do something.
AJ stopped, though, when he reached the doorway, hesitating much in the same way I had. "It's okay," he said quietly. "I don't mind." It was obviously directed at me, even if he wasn't making eye contact. All of a sudden, the painful ball in my stomach dissipated. He knew he was in trouble, but he didn't mind. Maybe we could still be friends.
And then he was gone, out the door in that crazy predatory glide that I wished I could move with. Derek uncrossed his arms, giving me and the other boys another once-over. He nodded what looked like an apology at the vice principal, who was still standing over my shoulder, and then he was gone, out the doorway in the same manner as AJ.
Jim shifted from foot-to-foot, smoothing back his hair in a nervous motion. "I'm very sorry," he said quietly, reaching out to shake the vice principal's hand. "It won't happen again."
As if he should be apologizing for me getting stuck in the locker, as if he could promise it wouldn't happen again. Anger and embarrassment flooded me, making my face hot. Why couldn't he just be like Derek and just accept that that fight had happened but not apologize for it?
I walked out to the car in stony silence. Jim had parked at the curb right outside of school and right behind Derek's car. AJ was sitting in the passenger side, face completely blank. I could tell Derek was ripping him a new one, but AJ didn't seem to be listening.
In a fit of boldness, I went over and knocked on his window. AJ rolled it down, stopping Derek mid-sentence, and then there were two sets of eyes, pinning me in place with matching heavy gazes. "Um, t-thanks," I told AJ, barely stuttering this time. "I know you didn't have to help me. S-so thanks."
AJ hissed, and at first I thought it was at me, but then I realized Derek had a hold of his left hand and was methodically straightening out AJ's fingers, probing the knuckles to check for damage. "S'okay," AJ mumbled with a wince. Then I fled, heat blowing up my face yet again.
Jim drove me home in silence. I could tell he wasn't happy, but it wasn't like he could chew me out for being bullied or locked inside a locker. I hadn't done anything wrong, and he was pretty mild-mannered by nature, so I knew he wouldn't be telling me to stand up for myself or fight back.
I still liked Jim, though, whatever his shortcomings. He loved my mom and treated her well. And although he didn't seem to have a clue about what to do with me, he was never mean or violent, which couldn't be said about my real father.
"I got bullied in high school, too," he said finally as we pulled into the driveway. He would have. He wasn't large or imposing, and he was extremely laid-back and quiet. A lot like me, actually. "You'll get through it. Now, not a word of this to your mother. You know how she'll react."
I guess that was his version of a pep-talk, because he shut the engine off and got out of the car. I sighed, grabbing my backpack and following him. I was grateful that we weren't going to involve Mom, though. She was stressed enough with her new job and finding a PTA group to join and other stuff. She'd freak if she knew about my day, no doubt about it.
By the time I finished my homework, my mom had gotten home from work and was humming cheerfully around the kitchen, making dinner because she was a chef and loved to experiment on Jim and I. Jim was still in his office, doing whatever he did for his accounting work. I didn't want to bug either of them, so I slipped my shoes on and went for a run.
To be honest, I sucked at running. I was getting better at keeping up with AJ, though. I was nowhere near his level, so I still practiced running at home, too. If I worked hard, someday I'd be fast enough and strong enough to keep Ryan and his friends at bay.
And AJ wasn't mad at me. Didn't want to ditch me the first chance possible. He'd still let me run with him and help me get stronger, and maybe he'd even teach me how to fight. Clearly he was good at fighting, since he'd taken on four big guys and still come out on top. And, maybe, just maybe somewhere along the way we'd become friends, and I wouldn't be all by myself in this crappy little town called Beacon Hills.
Here's to hoping, I thought sourly as my lungs burnt with effort and my muscles complained that they could be sitting in front of the TV all comfy-like. I pushed through it, cranking up my music and pounding down the sidewalk. Here's to hoping.