Just A Different Teen Wolf
Summary: What if Scott chose not to go with Stile's, and Stile's went alone and had been bitten instead of Scott?
A/N ; All my favorite things on top? What does that mean? I got distracted by the forums, and ended up jotting down a bunch of teen wolf idea's-BUT THIS COMES FIRST, or at least it will until my willful plot bunny dies!
Chapter Nine: 9: 2: Second Chance at first line.
Scott walked right into Stiles room, tossing his bag down onto his bed and turned to face him, "What'd you find out?" He asked. Stiles felt his hackles rose in annoyance, this was his room-his territory; however, Scott was his friend, he told himself. Scott was pack, they were pack, and they just had to figure out whom else was pack — to bad Scott was too concerned about proving himself to Allison by playing Lacrosse to care.
Stiles rolled his eyes, spinning around a couple times in his computer chair, all the while explaining. "Well, it's bad." He clicked his tongue, throwing his hands up, "Jackson's got a separated shoulder."
"Because of me," Scott stated, but it was said so pitifully it sounded like a question.
"Because he's a tool," Stiles argued for his friends' sake, 'yeah because of you,' his inner wolf snarled. He could feel it more often now, the closer it got to the full moon, and the more he found himself reacting to certain things. The more he felt the beast within clawing at his ribcage wanting to hunt.
"But is he gonna play?" Scott begged. He had come over to Stile's house, foregoing their nightly skyping routine because he needed Stiles.
"Well, they don't know yet. Now they're just counting on you for Saturday." Scott whined at Stiles, but Stiles was no longer looking at him, he was looking outside his bedroom window, and when Scott turned to look as well he saw Derek Hale slip in.
He glanced at Stiles, sniffing slightly before he turned to scowl at Scott.
"I saw you on the field."
"Wha–what are you talking about?" Scott squeeked stumbling backwards.
Stiles glared but he remained seated, but he put in his two-cents as well, "Excuse me, did I invite you to funky town?"
Derek glarred at Stiles then turned back to Scott, following him, "You shifted in front of them! If they find out what you are, they find out about me. About all of us," At this point he pointed at Stiles, and Stiles was glad to finally be recognized, so he'd forgive Derek just this once for breaking and entering. "And then it's not just the hunters after us, it's everyone."
"But–They didn't see anything! I..s–swear, I–"
"Hunters?" Stiles barked. He was so glad his dad worked late tonight or he would have already barged in and demanded they quiet down a tad with their D&D.
"And they won't!" Derek continued ignoring Stiles, "Because if you even try to play in that game on Saturday– I'm gonna kill you myself." And with that Derek left without a backwards glance or an explanation.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Scott really wasn't looking forward to school the next morning, especially since, he was basically telling the coach that Beacon high was going to have to forfeit or loose Saturday's game.
And he was right, the Coach was not happy. "What do you mean, you can't play the game tomorrow night?" he demanded.
Scott shrugged, his head dropping, he hadn't expected to have to explain himself. "I mean–I can't play the game tomorrow night."
"You can't wait to play the game tomorrow night." The Coach told him.
"No, coach," Scott shook his head, "I can't play the game tomorrow night."
The Coach gave him a long stare and was silent for like five seconds, "I'm not following."
Scott wondered what Stiles would have said to get himself out of this mess. So he choose to go with the lamest but buyable excuse. "I'm having some personal issues."
"Is it a girl?"
Scott looked at him confused. "No."
"Is it a guy? You know, our goalie Danny is gay."
Scott coughed shaking his head along with the coach, but then he realized what he was agreeing to, "Yeah, I know, coach, but that's not it."
The Coach gave him a penetrating kind of stare down, "You don't think Danny's a– good–lookin' guy?"
"I–think he's good–looking. I–but I–I like girls." He sputtered, "And that's not it, anyway! I–I–" he tried in vain to come up with another excuse.
The Coach continued to look at him in confusion. Maybe it had to do with his miraculous strength and why Jackson was now injured. "What, is it drugs? Are you doing meth? Because, I had a brother that was addicted to meth; you should have seen what it did to his teeth– They were all cracked and rotted. It was– it was disgusting." He laughed.
Scott stared at the coach in horror. "My–"he chocked, "God. What happened to him?"
The Coach shrugged. "He got veneers. Is–is that what this is about? Are you afraid of getting hurt, McCall?" he asked shifting his feet.
"No–I'm– "he decided to be partially truthful, "Having some issues dealing with aggression."
Coach Finstock smiled at him and slapped him on the shoulder, "Well, here's the good news. That's why you play lacrosse. Problem solved."
Scott whined, "Coach, I can't play the game tomorrow night."
"Listen, McCall, part of playing first line is taking on the responsibility of being first line. Now, if you can't shoulder that responsibility, then you're back on the bench until you're ready." The coach explained shaking his head.
"If I don't play the game, you're taking me off first line?" he whispered.
"McCall," The Coach said, giving him one last look before he sat back down in his office chair, "play the game."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Scott was on his way back from Coach Finstock's office when he bumped into Allison.
"Hey." She said, smiling at him.
"Hey." He sighed as he stared into her beautiful brown eyes, gods she was so amazing and for a second he forgot about his worries.
"Busy?" she asked, glancing back down the hall from where he'd come.
And just like that Scott remembered all of his problems. "No, no, it's just, uh, my mom, she's nothing. I mean, it's nothing. Uh, I'm never busy for you." He could never use his mom as an excuse with Allison, unless it wasn't actually an excuse.
Allison smiled, "I like the sound of that. I have to run to French class, but I wanted you to know that I'm coming to see you play tomorrow." She said skipping backwards.
"You are?" Scott asked in disbelief his eyes going wide.
"And we're all going out afterwards." She sing-sang, "You, me, Lydia, Jackson. It's gonna be great. Tell Stiles to come too. Uh, oh, and save me a seat at lunch, Okay. I gotta go." She waved, turning back around.
All the color drained from Scott's face, he had to get to Algebra II and talk to Stiles.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
XD sorry about the wait, no excuses (actually had to reread what I wrote already lol )
