Sorry this chapter is so long! I just wanted to get the exposition out of the way before I get to the good stuff, and I think I did just that. Please continue to let me know if I'm doing this right. Love anything you have to offer and thanks for reading! 3
Derek perched elegantly on the outer sill of Stiles' window as he peered in at the sleeping boy. Stiles was tossing and turning, discomfort evident in his features, and the smells of stress and fear emanated from the window like smoke from a fire. He heard the boy's rapid heartbeat.
Derek's brow furrowed in frustration, and the wolf inside him begged him to open the window and go comfort the boy. Neither Derek nor his wolf liked the negative smells that tainted Stiles' normal scent. His normal scent was, for lack of a better word, intoxicating. Derek couldn't for the life of him pinpoint what exactly described Stiles' scent; it was as light and crisp as rain, yet soft and fresh like the morning which lay just a few hours ahead. Derek peeked at his watch.
3:57am.
The sun hadn't yet begun to rise, and the moon hadn't set yet, so everything was bathed in a gentle and pearly white. Derek knew he should be taking his leave soon, but he couldn't bear the thought of leaving the boy alone to face his nightmare. The wolf inside growled at Derek, demanding that he enter the house and wrap his arms around the boy.
In all honesty, there was nothing more that Derek wanted to do. The only problem was he had no idea how. He had never been involved with anyone since Kate. Everything Derek became involved with somehow ended badly; everything he touched began to burn. There was no place for someone such as himself in the life of a boy like Stiles.
Derek huffed a sigh, and leapt down from his perch, running home moments before Stiles jolted awake.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Stiles pulled his jeep into a space in the school parking lot. Beacon Hills High was already teeming with life, though Stiles had no idea why. For fuck's sake it was a Monday morning. Why anyone would want to be awake and cheery was beyond him.
Stiles was already exhausted, and it was only 7:15 in the morning. Only seven more hours to go…Stiles looked in his rearview mirror. Smile. You'll make it through the day in one piece, he lied to himself.
With that, Stiles pulled his bag out of the back seat and climbed out of the jeep. Once inside, Stiles dumped his homework into his locker.
BAM!
"Mother fucking Christ!" Stiles world around to see a red-faced Scott, laughing uncontrollably.
"Good morning princess," Scott remarked. "What's up? You're like a thousand miles away over here. Rough night?"
"You could say that." Stiles replied.
"That's nice," Scott ignored Stiles' response. "Hey, do you think Allison will like these? I picked them on the way here."
Of course…Stiles groaned internally. "Scott, those are dandelions."
"No shit Sherlock, but it's the thought that counts right? I mean what girl doesn't love being thought of each and every minute of the day… I mean honestly Allison told me the other day how she thought it was just so cute how…"
Stiles wasn't even listening anymore. He knew if he kept Scott talking with a few 'hmmms' and 'uh-huhs' he could make it to Chemistry without even listening to what the lovesick idiot had to say. After all, Scott didn't give two shits about his night last night so why the hell should Stiles give half a shit for what Allison told him the other day blah blah blah.
Mr. Harris groaned audibly as the two strolled into the chemistry classroom. He was the last person Stiles felt the need to impress. Mr. Harris only hated him because he was the only one who talked in Chemistry, and he was definitely the only person who knew the difference between the periodic table and an actual table.
"Stiles are you even listening? I'm trying to tell you something important here." Scott whined.
"Yeah Scott I heard every word." Stiles grumbled. How important is it? Did you get her pregnant or something?
"Okay good. So anyways you'll never guess what Allison and I talked about last night…"
Stiles was already gone again. Who the fuck cared? He slumped down in his chair and pretended to both listen to Scott whisper and to how compatible atoms formed what compounds. The clock ticked by, both on the classroom wall and on Stiles' internal time-bomb. If he could make it through the day without ripping shit off the walls and attempting to beat people up it was going to be a miracle.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Lunch time rolled around and Stiles was on his way to the cafeteria when someone grabbed him from behind, trapping him between his armpit and torso, and rubbing their knuckles into his head in a vigorous noogie.
"Hey Stalinski buddy," Jackson's voice taunted. "How's it goin'?"
"Oh just peachy. I love this feeling Jackson. So great." Stiles replied irritably. This douche…
"Come off him Jackson," Danny's voice chastised him.
Stiles gave Danny a grateful look, earning him an apologetic smile.
"Lighten up brolinski, I'm only joking. What's got your panties in a bunch?" Jackson punched his shoulder a bit too roughly.
"Can we not today Jackson? Any other day of the week fine, I'm your joking bitch just not today. I'm not in the mood." No longer hungry, Stiles turned to leave, no longer hungry when he ran right into Scott and Allison.
"Hi Stiles!" Allison smiled sweetly, completely oblivious to Stiles' mood.
Stiles had to admit, he had a really hard time hating Allison, no matter how completely moronic she made his best friend. Aside from the whole going on an angry killing rampage thing comparable to the worst case of p.m.s. and nearly killing everyone in the crew, she was a sweetie.
"Hey Allison," Stiles replied half-heartedly. "Scott."
"Sup dude?" Scott nodded back. "Where ya goin'?".
"Eh, I'm not really hungry so I'm just ganna go chill in the jeep."
"I'm pretty sure he has a date with Mrs. Right and her five sisters." Jackson retorted, moving his hand in a masturbatory motion.
Oh for fuck's sake. Stiles almost punched him then and there. To further his anger, Scott and Allison laughed with him, and even Danny snickered a bit.
"Real mature Jackson. Real mature." Stiles turned to leave again.
"You're really not ganna eat with us?" Scott asked.
"Nope." Stiles popped his lips on the 'p'.
"Oh. Well then can I have your lunch money? I used mine to buy Allison a coffee when I ditched third period." Scott asked innocently, and put his arm around Allison's shoulders.
Stiles just stared in disbelief. Are you kidding me? There was no way he was going to make it through the rest of the day without killing anyone. Without saying anything, Stiles reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wallet. Digging into it he pulled out a five dollar bill and threw it at Scott. I don't even care anymore. No fucks are given.
He turned and stormed off seething, getting out of earshot after hearing a confused "What the fuck" from Scott.
That lovesick, pretentious cuntburger. Who the fuck does he think he is asking for my money when he knew full fucking well he didn't have to rain diamonds, pearls, and coffee around Allison's petite ass feet. Who cares if I wasn't going to use it anyway, I mean it's not like they gave two flying fucks that I wasn't going to eat with them. I'm just their joking bitch. That's all I ever was.
Stiles had stopped at his locker to throw his bag in. Closing it, he threw a vicious punch at the metal door. Shaking his hand off, he stormed out of the school to the jeep.
xXxXxXxXxXxXx
The final bell sounded through the halls and Stiles followed the torrents of teenagers out of their classes. He didn't even bother stopping at his locker, he had no homework anyway save for the Chemistry project Mr. Harris assigned last week. He already had a fair amount of research stocked up on his desk at home, and Scott who was regrettably his partner had nothing. Stiles was just not in the mood to deal with it.
Crossing the parking lot, Stiles made it to the jeep.
" Stiles wait up!" Scott's voice called from behind him moments before he jogged up to the side of Stiles' jeep. "What's up with you today? You seem kind of off…"
"Oh do I Scott? Gee, I hadn't noticed. Could it be the fact that I haven't slept more than four hours in the past three days? No, probably not. Could it be the fact that I'm still sore and bruised from the whole Gerard thing two weeks ago? Most likely not, but none of you would know considering none of you knew I was taken to begin with. How about Jackson McDouchefuck and his never ending torments? Nah. Oh wait I know, it's definitely not the way my best friend will not shut the living fuck up about his angelic girlfriend, who thinks of nothing but her and himself and does not even give a fuck big enough to ask how I'm doing or if there is anything he can do because I don't have tits and a vagina!" Stiles blew up. "Have I left anything out?!"
"Whoa man, calm down. And don't talk about Allison that way, she was going through an emotional time." Scott replied.
"Oh of fucking course," Stiles threw his hands up. "Will you pull your head—both of them for that matter—out of her vagina and just listen to how stupid you are being right now? She was following Gerard around like a lost puppy. She almost killed Derek, and Isaac, and she almost killed you Scott. Gerard beat the living shit out of me. Look at my face. Does anyone care? Not a chance. And you say Allison had an emotional time?!"
"Stiles stop it…"
"No, you stop it!" Stiles threw back. "I'm sick of being treated like shit by everyone because I am the only fucking human who can't do anything but serve as your outlet for a few good jokes. Sure, I smile and brush it off but do you know how old that gets Scott? Do you know? NO! Because while I'm sitting here taking all the abuse your head is so far up Allison's ass—"
"Stiles, I mean it… Pipe the fuck down…" Scott growled. But Stiles wasn't listening.
"Because Allison is so fucking perfect that she can do no wrong with those pretty eyes and fluttering lashes and all because she can probably give a good blowjob and—"
WHAM!
Scott's fist connected with Stiles' face, busting open his lip. Blood flowed freely from his mouth.
"Holy shit... Stiles!" Scott cried realizing what he had done. "Oh my god, dude I am so sorry. I…I didn't mean it… Stiles I'm so sorry…"
But Stiles wasn't listening. After he had recovered from the initial shock of the blow, and the pain had set in, Stiles turned his back and climbed into the Jeep.
"Stiles wait!" Scott yelled, but Stiles had already started the jeep and began backing away before speeding out of the lot.
Stiles' mind was a blur. His best friend had just punched him in the face. In. The. Fucking. Face. I know I went too far…Stiles thought to himself. But what was I supposed to do? None of them know… None of them care… Stiles looked back at the school which was quickly disappearing in the rearview mirror.
A single tear began to creep its way down his bruised cheek and mingled with the blood on his lip. Last night's injuries stung and itched in conjunction under their bandages and Stiles knew what he desired to do. He pushed further on the accelerator, and sped home, eager to get his hands on his razor.
Dun dun dun! Stay tuned!
