Madamon650: Lol, I literally laughed after reading you comment. I won't lie, Stiles and Sam being together has crossed my mind before but that won't happen in this fanfic…but if I continue writing the series of Sam involved Teen Wolf fanfics it could happen.
Raffylores: Samiles? I love it. As for your question, I kinda gave it away above. Thanks for the comment!
HeartlessNobody: The kind of vampire I am portraying is the same breed from the Vampire Diairies and The Originals. For the last week Stiles has been in transition meaning he didn't have all of the vampire's usual weaknesses like the sun bothering him but him being hungry and thirsty did affect him. Now that he transitioned after drinking blood we'll see a lot more of the strengths and limitations of vampires.
(Warning: mention of death.)
(Chapter 4)
As soon as Sam's arms touched around Stiles's shoulders, his entire body tensed and he squeezed tightly as the sense of death was staggeringly powerful but he didn't let go. "When I saw that she was dead and that you weren't in the office waiting for your dad like you said, I got worried I thought…shit, my mind immediately went back to everything we had to deal with last year…my mind flickered back to when I had to watch that senile old bastard Argent beat your senseless while I was unable to help…"
Fondness. He finally felt something familiar and for the witch holding onto him tightly. He lifted his arms and wrapped them around Sam's waist. He pulled the witch closer and shoved his face in Sam's neck. Inhaled deeply and another feeling filled him.
Feeling Sam's body pressed against his and his nose brushing the pulsing vein in Sam's neck. He opened he shifted slightly, his lips brushing against Sam's neck purposely and pulled back some; his mouth opening, revealing sharp and deadly fangs.
Just as he was about to latch onto the witch's neck, a loud clap of thunder startled both of them. Stiles flinched out of Sam's arms and closed his eyes in annoyance. His enhanced hearing made it seem as if the thunder clapped right next to him.
Sam looked up as rain began to fall drop by drop. "We better go, I have to go meet Isaac anyways." He said turning to Stiles, who was staring at him with a bizarre look on his face. "Stiles?" he asked confused by the look.
"Huh?" Stiles muttered after blinking once but then blinked again and shook his head a little. "Wait, what's going on?" He questioned confused but when a drop of rain landed on his nose, causing him to scrunch his face, he glanced up. "Oh, yeah, I better get to my Jeep." He ran his hands over his pockets for his keys as he walked away from the field.
He heard a jingling from beside him and turned to see Sam walking beside him holding the keys to his Jeep between his fingers. "I took them earlier, remember?" he asked teasingly. Stiles went to grab them when Sam pulled them back, becoming serious again. "Are you sure you can drive? You could wait for your dad here."
In a flash, Stiles snatched the keys from Sam's hand, faster than the witch could have predicted, and gave a grin. "I'm fine and, normally, I'd love to eavesdrop on my dad to figure out what happened," that earned him a disapproving look from Sam, "but it wasn't anything, you know, supernatural so I'm gonna just head home."
Sam hesitated, unsure whether or not he should let his friend drive but before he could even make a real decision, they were crossing onto the parking lot's ground and Stiles was heading towards his Jeep. Sam would have followed but he spotted Isaac climbing into the passenger's seat of his car. He turned back to Stiles' retreating back. "Be careful." All he got was a dismissive wave of his hand. He's going to do something stupid. Sam sighed and winced as the rain began to pour down harder. Pulling his jacket over his head, he ran to his car and climbed inside.
Isaac, who had been scrolling through his phone, glanced at his roommate from the corner of his eyes and raised a brow. "You're wet." He pointed out blandly.
"Well, this new this called rain is falling from the sky and it's very wet." Sam said sarcastically as he ran fingers through his wet auburn locks. "I'm just ready to go home and get changed."
"I wish I could." Isaac muttered.
"What do you mean?"
Instead of answering, Isaac handed Sam his phone. The phone was opened to a text message from Scott.
Scott to Isaac.
Coach Finstock is having a team meeting at Dreux's. Immediately. He's insane.
Sent at 10:45 A.M.
Sam sighed and handed Isaac his phone back. He kept his face impassive because he could feel Isaac's eyes on him. "Scott is right, he is insane." He muttered as he put the key in the ignition and turned on the engine. "I'll drop you off and then head home." He pulled out of the lot and took off.
Isaac hesitated. For a moment it hit Isaac that Sam didn't want to be alone and he understood that because he almost never wanted to be home alone. The last couple months he's been with Sam in Italy he was never alone, mostly always with Sam or even hanging out with his aunt for a while. "I could always skip it because, despite what Scott said, I doubt it's really important."
Green met blue as Sam turned and gave Isaac a smile. "No, no, it's fine." He assured with more confidence than he felt. "Maybe I'll stay behind at…Dreux's and have a coffee, plus Boyd wants me to do a locator spell for Erica."
Isaac frowned. "Why? Is something wrong?" he asked.
"Boyd sure seems to think so but I don't know." And that left him irritated. His instincts and senses were frayed thanks to his out of control emotions. Also, there was a part of him that didn't want to use his magic and another that wanted him to just leave that part of him alone. But a less selfish part of him told him it wouldn't hurt to put Boyd's worries to rest.
(Elsewhere)
The skies were already dark with thunder rumbling in the distance with lightning cackling soon after. The gusts of wind were powerful; it pushed debris, trash and trashcans into the air carrying down the street. The rain showered across the town, soaking everything and everyone in its reach.
It was as if the Gods were angered by the city's very existence and were contemplating wiping it away in a storm.
Such as the luck of Beacon Hills, Stiles thought as he walked down the center of the road, the devastating weather not affecting him in the slightest. His skin was paler than normal but he walked like a person that hadn't lost sleep and wasn't in the middle of a storm.
What is going on with me? Stiles wondered, his eyes drawn to the ground as he walked.
He drained the blood from that girl, Lindsay, after screwing her and then had practically did the same thing to Sam not fifteen minutes ago. And I don't even feel bad. He realized as he thought back on it. He almost sank his teeth into Sam's neck and didn't care.
Sam's body against his stirred up complex feeling Stiles didn't understand, Sam lost weight and looked slightly smaller, almost vulnerable a dark whisper added but Stiles could feel the power humming under that olive skin, power that could tears apart limbs and set fire to the world on a whim of a sixteen year old boy. But above that power was also blood.
Stiles could smell it, could smell Sam and it made his body react strangely. I mean, I have thought about what it would be like to…have Sam under him, panting, skin gleaming with sweat, eyes bright and begging. But I never wanted to drink his blood…what am I?
The answer was obvious to Stiles and even he, the one who first realized Scott was a werewolf, found it a little difficult to believe that he was a vampire. How could I be? I wasn't bitten by a vampire. He frowned but then remembered that he was a missing a week of memory. Could-could I have been bitten then? And if so, why?
His thoughts immediately shifted back to Sam, or more specifically, his blood. Stiles licked his lips as he thought about the way it smelt. Be he tastes better than Lindsay. Stiles bit his bottom lip and stopped walking. I wonder how Lydia tastes or Dan- his thoughts were cut off by the sound of an engine.
He turned around and looked down the street but saw no vehicle in the distance. Stiles narrowed his eyes as he listened closely. It's a truck, someone's coming this way, but they're about five minutes away. His brain quickly analyzed and if he weren't so focused on who was coming he'd find the topic interesting.
Suddenly, it felt like tunnel vision and then there was that scent invading his nostrils. He could smell two scents and hear two heartbeats under the roar of the engine. Their scents were drenched in cologne, beer and cigarette smoke. But underneath that was an undeniably sweet scent coming from them both.
Stiles felt his body tense before he was gone.
Moving with almost no effort and in a second, he was closer to the car and could see it coming closer. Stiles' face twisted into something monstrous, the veins near his eyes became more prominent and visible as his eyes bled black and his fangs grew.
Inside the truck were two seventeen-year-old boys, two opened beers in the cup holders and a lit cigarette in-between the driver's index and middle finger. The driver was blonde while the passenger was a ginger. The ginger was staring into his phone nervously.
The driver glanced at his friend with a raised brow. "Would you calm down Jared? We're going to get home fine." He stated confidently.
"But what about the meeting at Dreux's?" Jared asked.
"We'll blow it."
"Eric."
"What? Coach is insane if he thinks it's safe to be out in this kind of weather and I'm not going there just to listen to him rant and rave, and harass Greenberg." Eric rolled his dark brown eyes and turned the wheel slightly.
"But you know that he'll notice we're not there and makes us do suicides all day." Jared whined.
Eric snorted and went on ignoring his friend. He reached over and turned on loud rock music earning a sharp look from Jared, who wanted to continue his argument, but paused when he noticed something in the distance, it was small but getting bigger as they got closer. "What the hell…" he trailed off.
"What?" Jared asked after turning off the loud music when he noticed the look on Eric's face.
He glanced at his friend. "I think someone is standing in the middle of the road." He answered.
Turning to face forward, Jared studied the road but saw nothing. Only rain. He made a humming sound. "I don't see anyone."
"Well, whoever it was, was just there." Eric stated.
"Are you sure it wasn't a tree?"
"Yes, I'm sure it wasn't a t-" Eric's shouting was interrupted by the large thud on the roof, the weight of whatever it was rocked the truck. "What the fuck?!" Glass shattered as a hand punched through it and grabbed hold of Jared's hair before dragging him out of the window.
"Shit!" Eric hissed as his truck shook and he heard his friend screaming in fright, panic and…pain. "Jar!"
"Eric!" Then there was a snap followed by deafening silence.
Slamming his foot on the break, Eric's truck came to a screeching stop before he opened the door and hopped out of the truck. He looked on top of his roof but saw nothing there. He panted and looked around the empty road. "Jared!" He yelled but got no response. "Where the hell is he? What just happ-" Once again, he was interrupted by the sound of a loud and wet slapping sound.
Spinning towards his truck, his eyes widened in shock as he stared into the lifeless blue eyes of his friend, who was staring back at him blankly. His body was sprawled across the hood of the truck, his head hanging off the right side, facing Eric. His skin was pale, his clothes were soaked and even though they were being poured on with rain, Eric could see blood pouring on the ground.
From Jared's neck.
He was so shocked he didn't notice that someone was standing behind him.
Staring.
Not breathing.
Hungry.
Eric took a involuntary step back but didn't touch the person, they were a hairline apart.
And Eric was still none the wiser.
After a moment, snapping out of his stupor, Eric rushed forward and pulled Jared's body off the roof with a sob of fear. "Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" he hissed frantically as he climbed back into the car and sped off, not caring for the corpse of his friend.
Not even glancing in the direction Eric went in, the predator stalked over to the body of the dead boy. "Looks like I may have just done you a small favor." Stiles whispered with a bloody smirk on his face. "He would have gotten you killed anyways…he did just get you killed." He recognized the boys; they were on the lacrosse team, who were supposed to be at Dreux's.
Which was in the opposite direction. "Had he listened to you, you'd be alive." Stiles tapped his finger on his chin and hummed thoughtfully. "That's not even remotely fair is it?" he asked. Then nodded. "You're right, he shouldn't get to skip out on the fun we're having, and I'd better go get him." He turned and began walking in the direction Eric took off in before pausing and glancing over his shoulder. "You're actually a great conversationalist."
And in a clap of lightning, he was gone.
Elsewhere, Eric rushed into his home, slamming the door close behind him and pressed his back up against it as he panted heavily. His heart trying to break free of his chest, his body soaking wet, adrenaline mixed with fear was pumping and he felt a little woozy.
After talking himself down, he took notice of his house and something in his heart knew there was something wrong.
It was still morning and his mother didn't work in the mornings.
But all the lights were turned off and he couldn't even hear a hint of his mother's favorite game show she watched in the mornings. "Mom?" he called out taking a step forward and winced when a loud squeak echoed through the house.
He looked down at his wet shoes and sighed irritated. He continued, walking carefully to, failingly, avoid making a sound. "Mom, are you here?" he asked despite trying to keep quiet.
He walked into the kitchen and sighed in relief when he saw his mother standing at the sink. "Mom, God, you scared me, why are all the lights off?" he asked after letting out the breath he didn't know he was holding.
Eric walked forward and frowned. "Uh, mom?" he questioned when he didn't get a response but his mother didn't say anything, didn't even move. "Hey! Are you ignoring me because of something I did or…" he trailed off as his mom slowly turned to him with a long, sharp kitchen knife in her hand. He gulped. "Mom?"
The woman stared at him blankly before lifting the knife high above her head.
"Mom?!"
And then brought it down.
"No!"
Blood was splattered everywhere and Eric's eyes widened in agony and pain.
His mother fell to the ground with a large gash across he neck.
He whimpered and gingerly stood from his seat, shocked beyond belief. He took a step back and he felt it.
There was a breath on his neck.
He tensed and didn't move, fear paralyzing him. Slowly, painfully so, Eric turned his head and found himself staring into a pair of pitch black eyes. It roared at him before lunging.
Eric screamed.
(Dreux's)
"Greenberg! What the hell do you think you're doing stuffing you're face?! Move that ass into a seat! That goes for you too, Archer! And you, McCall, get the lead out!" Coach Finstock snapped at his players as they all took seats at the tables in front of him. "Finally, now before I begin, I would like to know one thing…where…the hell…is…Stilinski!" he shouted.
Everyone's head snapped in the direction of Scott, who sat wide-eyed at the looks and stuttered out an answer. "H-he's going to be a little late, family stuff." Scott lied through his teeth and when Finstock narrowed his eyes, the werewolf knew he didn't believe him.
Luckily, Coach Finstock didn't seem like he was in the mood to yell again and continued on with his usual ranting.
On the opposite side of the shop, Sam sat with a blue thermos in his hand as he watched Finstock. "He's just one big bag of crazy, isn't he?" he muttered with a snort.
"You literally have no idea." Boyd muttered before turning to Sam. "Did you get what you needed?" he asked.
"Yup." Sam said popping the last letter of the word.
"And this spell is unconscious enough to do in public?" He asked.
Sam sighed. "Boyd, if it weren't, I would have done it in the safety of my home but the spell is simple and is done on a map." He pulled out a folded up map before spreading it across their table. He pulled out a crystal attached to a string. "The old ways of locating people." Sam added when he caught Boyd's confused glance. "Give me Erica's belonging."
Boyd handed him a necklace and Sam stared down at it before closed his eyes. He opened them and Boyd caught the faint glow to them, Sam held the crystal over the map and began swinging it. After a moment of watching it swing, Boyd watched as it dropped on New York. "Well, she's still there."
"Which means she's still with her family, I'm sure if there was something wrong or she was missing they'd called the police and she'd be on the news or something." Sam shrugged.
"I guess, but why isn't she answering my calls?"
"Maybe she's tired of denying that she has feelings for you and is playing hard to get." Sam suggested coyly earning an unamused look from the werewolf. "Or maybe not."
Boyd snorted. "Idiot." He stood and began walking towards his group. There was still something bothering him about Erica ignoring his calls.
Maybe he should…
Scott sighed as he put a fist hand under his chin with his elbow on his knee. He was bored out of his mind listening to his coach. He felt a pair of eyes on him and glanced in the direction of the owner.
It was one of the new kids trying out lacrosse. What was his name? He tried to remember after Coach Finstock made them all introduce themselves to the newbies and nice versa. Ian Miller. His name flashed through Scott's mind.
Ian was actually already accepted onto the team, Scott didn't remember Coach Finstock giving them an explanation but the only one Scott could come up with is that Ian impressed Finstock somehow.
But none of that explained why Ian was glaring at him like that.
Scott turned away, not intimidated but not in the mood to get into whatever the guys problem was, his friend, Sam, who was sitting at a table alone, soon caught his attention. He looked like he was drawing in his book.
Things were still slightly tense between them, Sam wasn't outright saying it but Scott knew Sam was upset with him. He knew Sam and Sam was never one to really hold his tongue so it surprised him that Sam hadn't already confronted him for whatever it was he was angry about.
When Coach Finstock dismissed them, he saw Isaac glance in Sam direction and knew the blonde was going to make his way over to him.
Quickly moving, wanting to talk to Sam alone, Scott quickly stood and walked over to the two seated table and sat on the other side of it.
Green eyes blinked, surprised, when Sam lifted his head and saw Scott sitting there. "Uh, hey." The werewolf greeted with an awkward smile.
"Hey, yourself." Sam responded casually as he dropped the pencil into the center of the pages before closing the book before Scott could get a good look at it. "Finstock letting you guys go?"
"Only for a few minutes, then he'll finish and then we can go." Scott corrected.
Sam tried to show sympathy for Scott but only ended up snickering. "Sorry, sorry." He apologized when Scott pouted. "It's just, he's actually insane."
"Right?" Scott bit his lip after they sat in a moment of silence. "This is strange, why is this strange?" Scott asked.
"What?"
"Us, this…" he wavered his hand between the two of them as if to emphasize. "it's like we're strangers just meeting and I don't know why."
Sam frowned and Scott could almost see his walls slamming up. "I don't get what you mean, Scott, there's nothing wrong."
"Just tell me what it is that I did to make you angry."
"I'm not angry." Sam insisted with a smile but Scott could see it was slightly forced. "Let's not talk about this here." Sam added quietly.
"So, there's something to talk about?"
"God, when did you become my wife?" Sam huffed crossing his arms over his chest, green eyes flashing with impatience.
"I just want to know what I did."
"You tell me."
"I don't know!"
Sam shrugged his shoulders and leaned back into his seat. "Then what reason would there be for me to be angry?" he asked.
Scott groaned combing fingers through his hair. "Fine, but if there were something bothering you, you'd tell me right?"
"Sure." Sam shrugged.
That didn't fill Scott with confidence. "It's just…I miss you, Sam." Conflict entered Sam's eyes and the witch bit his bottom lip. "I haven't seen you in months and you're back but I still feel like you're gone."
Sighing out of his nose, Sam opened his mouth to respond when a piercing whistle cut through the air. "Alright, boys, lets get back into it! Move it!" Coach Finstock called for them.
Scott nearly groaned aloud when Sam closed his mouth and began gathering his things. "I'll see you later, Scott." Sam said as he slung his backpack of his shoulder and grabbed his umbrella. "Tell Isaac I'll be back to pick him up."
"I can drive him." Scott offered.
Sam nodded his head in thanks. "Alright, see you later?" He asked as he walked away, not really wanting to hear Scott's response. He could, literally, feel Scott's frustration.
"Sure."
As Sam walked out of Dreux and quickly opened his umbrella. He began walking towards the direction he parked his car in. He couldn't hear much over the pounding rain and it made him a little anxious. As Sam turned a corner, he felt it.
Love.
His entire body became warm despite the cold rain pouring onto him. He turned his head in the direction it was radiating from and saw a couple getting out of the car. A blonde man and dark haired female, they were giggling and couldn't keep their hands off one another as they tried to get into the building.
Sam turned away from them, feeling his face heat up at the sight of them. That was…strong. He thought a little frazzled by the intense emotion he felt from them. How am I feeling that? And then he thought about it. I felt their love…has that been what's been happening all day? Have I been feeling other people's emotions? He wondered and instantly knew that the answer was yes. That's new.
He wondered if his grandmother dealt with anything like this. Was it a new power? Was it just a temporary ability? Would it get easier to control? He, then, wished he had his grandmother here to answer these questions. She'd probably give me some vague answer. He chuckled.
I guess there's one place I can find the answers I'm looking for.
He immediately began walking again, his thoughts swirling around the new ability he discovered.
Mostly wondering whether it was a blessing or a curse.
Back in Dreux's, the doors slammed open causing everyone to turn and watch as a soaking wet Stiles Stilinski strutted inside the warm building with confidence never seen in the young man before. Scott blinked as Stiles took a seat next to him, not affected by his wet state. "What's up, buddy?" he greeted with a large smile.
Scott stared at his friend for a moment. There was something wrong but he couldn't put his finger on it. Stiles looked normal, better than earlier, with color in his cheeks and a smile on his face but there was a scent clinging to him that made the hairs on Scott's neck stand at attention.
Scott opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by Coach Finstock. "Stilinski!" The man stormed up to them and glared down at him. "What the hell do you think you're doing coming in almost an hour and a half late?" He demanded heatedly. "Someone with your skills really shouldn't skip out on any opportunity to get better."
"And listening to your insane ramblings will somehow help me become better at Lacrosse?" Stiles asked in amusement. His lips twisted up and gave a small chuckle. "That's the best joke I've heard all day and I heard a good one, wanna hear it?" he asked.
Finstock's brows furrowed as his anger rose. "Stilinski-"
Stiles began to tell it anyways. "So, there's this moose and he-"
"Stilinski!"
"Let me finish!" Stiles snapped angrily and crossed his arms over his chest, turning his head away from his coach. "Never mind, you ruined it." He accused and pouted.
Scott watched the two like a tennis match and gulped as Coach Finstock's face began to turn scarlet red. "Stilinski, outside, in fifteen minutes." Their coach grounded out before storming away, muttering curses under his breathe. He paused next to Greenburg and glared down at him. "You too!" he snapped and stormed out before Greenburg could protest.
Scott frowned as he turned to Stiles. "What the heck was that, Stiles?" he asked.
His best friend turned to him with an innocent face and confusion in his eyes. "What?" he asked.
"You know what, why would you antagonize him like that? You know he could stop you from playing this season, hell this year." Scott stated. Stiles scoffed as if that was the most ridiculous thing he ever heard and that made Scott's frown deepen. "Stiles, where have you been?"
"I went home and got changed." Stiles stated offhandedly.
"But didn't change clothes?"
"I did too, this is a different t-shirt." Stiles said pulling the t-shirt underneath his plaid collared shirt and then stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go have a little meeting with our coach, I'll try to keep it short." He reached over patting Scott's cheek twice. "Later, gator."
Scott's brows furrowed as he watched his friend walk out of the café. He definitely knew something was wrong. As soon as Stiles touched him, he had to resist the urge to recoil in disgust and that never happened before.
Not only that but he was pretty sure he smelt blood on Stiles. Was he hurt? Is that why he's acting strange? Scott wondered and sighed. Between Sam and Stiles keeping things from him, he'll never know anything. He needed to take action more.
That meant not waiting for Stiles to come back, Scott was pretty sure that Stiles and their coach shouldn't be alone without a mediator anyways. He stood from his seat and walked outside of the café; the rain started up again, falling in sprinkles.
And even through the humidity, Scott could smell it.
Blood.
Someone was bleeding.
Scott quickly followed the scent of the blood behind a dumpster. His eyes widened in shock and surprise at the body of Greenburg sitting on the ground with his back against the building and his head fallen forward, his dark hair blocking his face.
Before kneeling down and pressing a finger to the pulse on his neck, Scott knew that the young man was dead. He couldn't hear a heartbeat nor breathing; Scott sucked in a breath and closed his eyes for a moment, while he and Greenburg rarely spoke, it still upset him to see the guy dead.
That's when it struck him. "Stiles?" He stood up and looked around for his friend. "Stiles?!" he called again, slightly panicked but got no response. "Damn it!" he growled and pulled out his phone before sending a series of texts.
Normally he would go looking for Stiles but he couldn't smell the boy because of the rain, though his scent was lingering but it was already too far-gone to follow. A few minutes later, he heard footsteps coming from behind him and turned to see both of Derek's betas walking up to him.
As they rounded the dumpster, their eyes immediately went to what was radiating blood. Isaac winced and Boyd stared blankly at the dead corpse of their classmate before turning to Scott. "What happened?" Boyd demanded calmly, seemingly unaffected by the death.
"I-I don't know." Scott shook his head, flashes of the dead bodies in the police station last year flickered through his mind and filled him with a dark feeling. He closed his eyes when they began to burn and tried to pull himself together. "I came out here because coach was supposed to be talking to Stiles and Greenburg but this was all I found with no trace of coach or Stiles."
Isaac frowned and walked over to the body before kneeling in front of it. Boyd glanced down at him. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"Checking something." Isaac muttered and began checking under Greenburg's clothes.
Scott's eyes flashed. "What the hell, Isaac? Don't touch him!" he said through clenched teeth. "It's a dead body, not a museum."
Isaac rolled his eyes and continued his search before grabbing Greenburg's chin and twisting his head. The blood was still seeping from the wound in Greenburg's neck but not much and the rain was washing away the dried blood. "We should call Sam, he could help us find Stiles."
"Right." Scott nodded. "I sent him a text."
Rubbing his thumb around the boy's neck blindly, Isaac continued until his thumb ran over two marks. Lifting his thumb away and look down at the wound. He frowned. "Huh." He muttered.
"What?"
Boyd moved next to Isaac and instantly saw what caught the blonde's attention. "Huh." He parroted.
"What?" Scott asked walking over to them, despite himself, and crouched next to Boyd. He studied the body for a moment but didn't see what they saw. "What is it?"
Isaac ran his thumb over the spot and Scott's eyes widened.
There on the boy's neck was a bite mark. Four parallel holes in the neck. "Something bit him?" he asked incredulously.
"Call Derek." Boyd ordered Isaac, who nodded his head.
(Elsewhere)
Sam walked up the pavement and then stairs to the Martin Household as he reached in his back pocket. He pulled out a key and unlocked the front door before walking in, pocketing the key again. "Lydia?" he called.
He heard a thud come from upstairs and then a door open. He immediately walked towards the stairs as someone rounded the corner and began to come down them only to stop on the second step.
Sam blinked when he found himself staring into the eyes of Allison Argent and forced himself not to make any faces at the sight of her. Instead, he studied her blankly. He hadn't actually paid any attention to the Argent girl during school but looking at her now, he was surprised to see that her hair was cut to her shoulders and dyed a lighter brown color.
Allison tried to not to fidget under the intense was Sam was staring at her. "Hey, Sam." She greeted.
The stare dropped and he frowned. "Is Lydia here? I saw her car parked in the garage." He said backing down the three stairs he ascended.
"She's right here." Lydia answered as she walked around the corner, her long hair straightened and pulled over her shoulders. She moved past Allison and walked down the stairs, the brunette following after her. "What are you doing here?" she asked in a tone that made Sam want to grind his teeth in anger.
"I didn't know I needed any special reason to come see my friend, though with the irrational way you're behaving I'm sure people continue to ask why I put up with you." Sam sneered at her.
Instead of snapping back like Allison was expecting, Lydia scoffed. "Because you'd be lost without me and stuck with those two idiots."
"I'd still have Isaac." Sam pointed out.
"Who?"
Green eyes narrowed at the redhead and he was tempted to say something but bit his tongue. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before exhaling. "I didn't come here to fight, Lydia." He whispered, all he wanted was to fall for a moment. Now that he wasn't being bam bordered with others emotions, he felt tired and like he was about to start crying.
Lydia noticed the look on Sam's face and her stance immediately took a less offensive one. "What happened?" she asked softly.
Sam was about to answer but then realized that he was in unwanted company. He glanced at Allison briefly before looking at Lydia pointedly. "I'd rather not have this conversation in front of her." He stated bluntly
The brunette resisted the urge to roll her eyes; Lydia did no such thing and crossed her arms over her chest. "Sam."
"Lydia."
Rolling her eyes again, Lydia turned to Allison. "Can you wait in the living room for a minute?"
"Yeah, sure." The brunette glanced at Sam, who watched her go.
Sam took a seat on the fourth stair and Lydia sat beside him. She wrapped her arms around his bicep and laid her head on his shoulder. She frowned at how tense he felt but she knew this was what he needed. She could remember all the time he would sneak over to her home when he was upset and crawl into her bed for her to hold him.
"What happened?"
Sam turned, pulling his arm from her grip and wrapped them around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. He buried his face in her hair. "I'm feeling everything." He said, his voice thick with emotions.
"Okay." Lydia said slowly. "I don't have a response for that."
"Who would?" Sam inhaled deeply and exhaled. "Ever since I step foot in Beacon Hills I've been feeling things, at first I ignored it because I thought it was the PTSD messing with me but after a while I began noticing signs until it was literally standing in front of me."
Lydia sat back when Sam released her from his embrace and pulled his backpack from his shoulders to set between his legs. Pulling out his grimoire, Sam began to flicker through the pages of the book until he came to a stop and set the book in Lydia's lap.
The ginger glanced up at Sam for a moment before she began to read the book. "Empaths are beings who are fully able to interpret and replicate the feelings of others. The empathy can alter said emotions according to will. They are linked to the emotion that surrounds them. There hasn't been any known empathy in centuries but they're out there but they're believed to be hiding in plain sight." Lydia lifted her eyes to look at Sam. "You're empathic? Sounds invasive."
Sam snorted. "Like I want to feel the emotions of others, I can barely handle my own emotions, not to mention how my wild emotions affect my powers, what if the weight of other's emotions makes it worse?" he asked and buried his face in his hands.
Lydia didn't have the answer nor did she know how to reassure her friend, so instead of trying, she just wrapped her arms around his arm again and placed her head on his shoulder. He was still tense.
They sat there for a few moments before Allison cut in. "Um, guys, I just got a text from Scott." She stated. Lydia raised a brow turning to her while Sam only groaned in disgust causing Allison to glare at them both. "Not that kind of text, Stiles is missing."
Both Lydia and Sam sat up straight and stared at her for a moment.
Lightning flashed outside before thunder followed with a loud clap.
(End)
Hey, guys, I know it's been a while since I updated and I'm sorry. My job has been keeping me busy but I promise to try and update a lot more.
Anyways, this chapter is building up to the big blow out that is going to happen.
Stiles nearly attacked his friend but then attacked two other students. Do you think that he attacked Greenburg? And where is Stiles and Finstock? Sam found out he's an empath and is having a hard time dealing with it. Erica is alright, or is she? Allison and Sam finally talk, a little.
Next chapter, shit literally hits the fan and that's the starting point of when things begin to fall apart.
Also, we get to meet Stiles pairing, an OC, and I honestly can't wait for that.
OOH! I can't wait for you guys to read the next chapter! See you soon!
