Stiles stared at his best friend as he moped in the corner of his room. He was trying to avoid the moonlight that was streaming through his window. It wasn't a full moon, but close enough that Scott was feeling itchy in his skin. Tomorrow was going to a rough day and he just wanted to calm down.
Scott banged his head against the wall.
"Hey!" Stiles glared at him. "I don't need holes to fix in my wall, thanks."
"Sorry," Scott muttered. He focused instead on his claws and picking dirt out from underneath them. He was too agitated to make them retract.
"You know, you should probably go home. You can't avoid your Mom forever." Stiles shut his laptop. Silence was his reply. He looked over at Scott who was gazing up at the window.
"How do you know she even wants me back?" He could feel his eyes glowing. He let a soft growl come out of his throat.
"Come on man. She's your mom. She's gonna get over it."
"Stiles! This isn't something to get over. I'm a monster! And the way she looked at me proved it!" He stood up and began pacing.
A heavy silence fell in the room. It stretched until Scott finally sat on the edge of the bed and hung his head in his clawed hands.
The human teenager watched his best friend deal with something he had never been taught to deal with. It was unfair. He just couldn't stand the thought of the werewolf losing his mom. He knew that pain was far worse.
"What if she's in danger?" Stiles tapped his pencil on his desk until Scott finally looked up at him, glaring. "The Kanima is still out there. Worse yet, it's got a new master who has it out for you." He got up and walked over until he stood in front of his best friend. "It's going to be awkward and hard, but your Mom needs you. It would be worse of you to abandon her right now."
Scott didn't respond. Slowly Stiles watched his friend reign in the wolf until a seemingly normal human sat in front of him.
"You're right." It was a defeated whisper. "I just hope she doesn't try to hit me with the baseball bat."
Melissa hadn't seen Scott for at least a good 36 hours at this point. But who was counting? Every time she heard a floor board squeak, she would race to his room to see if he was there. But nothing. She had called in sick to the hospital, telling them she would be back in a week. She was hoping by then she would have all of this processed. But the idea of her son being a…
Well, she just wasn't able to think about it long enough without horrible thoughts coming to mind. So she had spent her time cleaning. Melissa couldn't remember the last time her house hand been so immaculate. But it still wasn't welcoming. Her son's things weren't thrown about and there was no smell of dirty socks to permeate the air.
She missed him. But could she face him?
Night finally came. It had now been two nights since she had seen what Scott had become. Two long agonizing days as well where she hadn't talked to him or been able to ask him what was going on with Allison.
Goodness, she missed her son. She sat on her bead, her usual scrubs on. They made great PJs, not just work clothes. A sudden noise from down the hall caught her attention. It was a slight sound, like the window being pulled up. Was it Scott?
Quietly she opened her bedroom door and walked down to his room.