Stiles silently cursed every being friends with Scott. If it wasn't for him, he would've never joined the lacrosse team. Never would've been subjected to Coach's tireless drills. His favorite today was laps. He had run five of them already. His legs and chest were on fire. Muscles screaming out in protest. Coach was making sure that they were pushing their limits. Thankfully, Stiles never gave into peer pressure and started to smoke. It would've been a lot worse. But still, Coach was screaming at them to go faster. Needless to say, it was all a rather large load of bullshit. Though he did have a spectator.

Erica was in the stands, eying him like a cat. That trademark grin across her face. Boyd was there with her. Ever since their date, things had been going well. He took her to the most cliché dinner and a movie. Erica had loved every minute of it. They had been inseparable ever since. Boyd was benefiting from it as much as Erica was. He sat at lunch with Stiles as the others. As often as he could. Isaac to. He had somehow managed to find speed and coordination and was doing excellently on the field. The three of them were close. Closer than expected.

Even though Erica was dating Boyd, she touched Isaac a lot. A hand over the shoulder. A kiss on the cheek. Altogether affectionate. More so than most friends. She was the same with Stiles. Every time they saw each other, the young woman wrapped around him like a python. Boyd never said anything. In fact, he was getting to be rather tactile himself. Never quite as huggy as Erica. But a clap on the back, or a brush of the shoulders. It didn't make much sense to Stiles. But he put up with it anyway. Cora was another matter.

The young woman was essentially the female version of Derek. Dark, brooding, and relatively silent. She never said much whenever he saw her. They only shared one class, but did have the same lunch period. He tried on many separate occasions to get her to open up. But she never did. There was just that stony silence, permeating the air. Every time he sat with her at lunch, she never objected. But she didn't seem too happy with Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. There was a certain tension the three of them held for her. Isaac kept his eyes downcast. Boyd never even looked her way. Erica, well…Erica glared daggers. Her words were sweet and tender. But the look she gave Cora might as well have been lethal. The feeling was mutual. Cora was just as cold towards them as they were to her. Stiles never asked. Not his place. There was enough drama in his life as it is. He didn't need to add whatever was going on between the four of them.

Scott and Allison were having their own problems. Her father was adamant about meeting him. Allison, not so much. Scott didn't see a problem with it. But underneath her white toothed smile and bouncy curls, Allison was a lioness. She didn't back down. The two of them were in the on and off again stage of the relationship. One day, they weren't speaking. The next, holding hands every possible moment. It was absolutely sickening to behold. Scott was over the moon for this girl. Sending sappy teenage love poetry texts to each other. It was awful and hilarious in the same moment. Stiles couldn't help feel but just a little sorry for his friend. But only a little. Maybe in time, he could find himself less nauseated about it all.

Today, the both of them were being punished. Scott had been named co-captain alongside Jackson. They had went out the arcade in celebration. Coach had a much different idea in mind. And it didn't involve anything fun. In celebration, Coach had ordered a furious set of drills and double practices. It was going to be a long afternoon. The laps were just the first part. Stiles knew what came next. Defensive runs. He was by no means muscular, or large. But he could take a hit. For someone as uncoordinated as he was, the young man possessed a surprisingly talent of being able to endure tackle. Jackson liked to test it often. But the relentless drills had built his stamina to professional grade. Nine times out of ten, he took his tackler down with him. Jackson was not pleased with this.

Coach blew the whistle, signaling them to form the lineup. Stiles was paired with Danny. The two of them were similar in height. But Danny had more brawn. Stiles' advantage was his limbs. He had longer arms and legs, giving him better footing and reach. His teammates hadn't ever considered that into their calculations. He knocked them down as often as he got knocked down. Erica cheered for him every time someone went to the ground. Isaac halfheartedly waved at her every time she did. Boyd was as still and silent as ever. All in all, it was a good practice. He was slowly but surely improving. Part of him wondered if his dad would show up to any of the upcoming games. There may be a chance for him to play. If only a slim one.

It was part of the reason he had joined the team in the first place. For so many years, he was just a spastic kid with good grades. Nothing worthy of mentioning or such. He wanted to make his father proud. To make him happy. To show that he could be a good son. He trained his ass off at every practice. Until sweat covered his skin. Until his legs were ready to give out. But he was never good enough. Coach neve put him on the field. Maybe, this time around, he'd finally get the chance.

Practice ends with the screeching of Coach's whistle. Stiles is ready to drop. Scott seems as vibrant as ever. Smiling that goofy smile of his. And then, he wasn't. His face contorted, in pain. He doubled over, panicking, trying to breathe. But no air could get into his lungs. Asthma attack. And a bad one. Scott was well overdue. He hadn't had one in months. The new medicine he was taking had saw to that. But now, he was on the ground. Slowly turning blue.

Several people were already calling 911. Stiles was by his friend's side, trying to keep him calm. Keep him from panicking further. The ambulance arrived quickly enough, the paramedics loading Scott into the back. Stiles hopped in, ignoring the pointed stares. No way in hell he was going to wait and drive to the hospital. He texted Melissa as they barreled down the road. They had placed an oxygen mask over his face. Trying to keep him alive. The doctors would give him an epinephrine shot once they got to the hospital. They just had to get there first.

When they arrived, there was a flurry of activity. Nurses hauling Scott out, gurney being rushed down the hall. The doctor on call for the ER came rushing up, spouting orders. Stiles was held back, prevented from seeing his friend. It took everything he had not to push through. He came rather close to punching one of the male nurses. But, he abstained for the sake of his friend. He would be fine. Melissa would be with him soon, and she would make sure her son got the best possible treatment.

He sat down in the lobby, trying his best to stifle the panic coiling in his belly. Stiles hated this place. Far too many terrible things happened here. Too much death and suffering. Pain radiating out of the rooms like a siren call for the Reaper to come knocking. For a place of healing, it was surprisingly grim. But none more so than when his mother was here.

The dementia came out of nowhere. Sudden and onset. One day she was find. The next, her memories had started to slip away. It was hell. And that was putting it nicely.

The doctors had given a terminal diagnosis. There was nothing they could do. Nothing that they could treat. This disease was the kind that you stared in the face and beg for reprieve. In short, all they could do was wait for her to die. The first two months were the easiest. She stayed home, where everything was familiar. Where everything had a place. It was a safe space. The pictures on the wall brought comfort. The feel of polished wooden floors soothed her confusion. Until it didn't. The simplest things agitated her. The closing of a door too loudly. Running water where she had forgotten she was washing dishes. Setting off fits of panic and anger. When she asked who Stiles was, he had to remind her that he was her son. She never believed him. She shouted that she didn't have kids. That she never wanted them. It broke his heart each and every time.

When the fits of anger started to outweigh the fits of panic, she was admitted back into the hospital. He was standing outside, holding his stuffed elephant when the ambulance arrived to take her away. There was little else they could do. That was the only real option. So, every day after school, Stiles came to see her. She still didn't believe that he was her son. The sheriff and Melissa were the only two people that she recognized. Stiles was okay with it. It was the disease talking, not his mother. Then, it got worse. She grew fearful of him. His mother would fly into blind rages, charging and thrashing at him. Screaming terrible things no child should ever have to hear from a parent. The doctors had to restrain her. Then, in the end, they had to sedate her. She died in a drug induced sleep, away from the knowing world.

And on that day, part of Stiles died with her.

Her funeral was in the rain. The heavens themselves seemingly crying. Stiles certainly was. His father stood, rigid and silent. Hand wrapped tightly around Stiles'. The pastor said pretty words of God and the afterlife. Then, they lowered her into the ground. And that was it. She was gone. Buried under six feet of earth, never to be seen again. It left Stiles with a profound hatred of the hospital.

Scott had been in and out over the years. His asthma always getting worse in the winter. When the new medicine was prescribed, they had been hopeful that it would no longer be an issue. But it was. And he had come close to the brink. And all Stiles could do was wait. It too, was hell.

He texted Isaac, telling him what happened. Asking if he was going to stop by the hospital. The reply was quick and concise. He wasn't. Stiles asked if he could come over afterwards. There was an aching in his chest. A pain that didn't belong. He needed a friend. Isaac said he was busy helping Laura's family settle in. So, he texted Erica. She was concerned about Scott on principal. But she had already made plans with Boyd. They were going on another date. Possibly more. Stiles tried his best not to be mad at her. It was a failing effort. He needed them, but they were all too busy with their lives to be concerned. So he put his phone away and waited to see what the doctors would say. Judging from past experience, it was going to be a while. But it was okay. He had nothing but time.

(*)(*)(*)(*)

Derek was on the verge of a mental breakdown. The rest of Laura's pack was arriving from New York and LA this evening. There was a lot to do. Most of them would be staying at a house they had purchased near their own. She didn't want the same animosity that Cora was giving off radiating through the home. It was a lot to deal with. There were registration forms to fill out. For the adults and the children. There were seven kids, from 2 to 14. The little ones had to be enrolled into daycare. The others had to be registered for school. He had agreed to help, but he was toeing the line of his sanity. He was still dealing with adding Boyd to the pack.

Erica had brought up the idea less than two weeks after she had been turned. She and Isaac were still reeling from their first full moon. As expected, the two of them had to be chained in the basement. Away from the rest of the world. It hadn't been easy. In that state, even Derek had trouble controlling them. And he was the freaking alpha. The first few hours were the hardest. With them clawing at the air, snapping their teeth together. It was the aggressive stage. The one that proceeded directly after it was even worse. The mourn like stage. Where every part of the being was screaming at them to go outside and run beneath the moon. To feel the earth beneath their feet. The wind in their hair. Derek couldn't let them not yet. They were a long ways off from that. But how they responded towards the end is what surprised him the most.

Isaac was on the verge of tears. Trying to keep his composure. Erica was the same. When they called out for Stiles, Derek's breath caught in his chest. There were numerous people they could've called for. Isaac could've called for Derek or Laura. Erica could've called for her parents or Boyd. But the two of them had called for Stiles. The simple human boy who had no idea who they really were. Derek pondered the meaning behind that. What kind of connection they shared. The intimacy of it. Wolves called for the ones that brought them peace. Or happiness. Stiles was an enigma in that sense. That he had affected, not one, but both of Derek's betas. He asked them about it when the sun started to rise.

The sheepishly looked away, turning red in the face. Isaac had something about Stiles making him feel safe. Erica said that she felt the same. That the two of them knew that whenever Stiles was around, nothing was going to hurt them. As if he could repel the devil himself. It was fascinating and terrifying in the same moment. That this human had that much sway over his betas. It was a dangerous thing. They felt drawn to him. Loyal to him. They felt like he was pack. But he wasn't. Stiles wasn't a wolf and Derek didn't intend to make him one. It was too much of a risk. For many reasons.

Namely, he was the son of the sheriff. He if was turned, it would've required him to spend far too much time at the house. With Derek teaching him everything he needed to know. About control. About his new instincts. About everything it was to be a wolf. It wouldn't have gone unnoticed. That, and there was the manner of Stiles' personality. He was a caregiver, and a protector. But he was also fiercely independent of others. He would be your friend. But he wouldn't let you in. Derek shared in that sentiment. He had built plenty of walls for himself after Kate. It made from some very harsh struggles after they moved to New York. He didn't have the time or patience to train a wolf that wasn't willing. And Stiles would've been just that.

Boyd was the opposite. He jumped at the opportunity to be turned. Took to the lessons with a boundless sort of glee. He loved it. Reveled in it. To say nothing of how Erica felt with her boyfriend added to the pack. Laura started calling the three of them the musketeers. Cora just sneered and made snide comments. Derek tried his best to be the alpha his betas needed. Which is why he was more than a little surprised that he found Isaac and Erica trying to sneak out.

He didn't even need to scent them to tell they were upset. It was more than visible. Anxiety rolled off them in waves. Pouring out of them, thickening the air with its pungent odor. He didn't even need to guess what was wrong. There was only one reason that they would be this way. Something had happened with Stiles. Or in this case, happened with one of his friends. Scott, as he was called, suffered an asthma attack on the field. He was rushed to the hospital with Stiles in tow. The two of them begged to leave, to go and see their friend. Derek refused. It was too much of a risk. Boyd was still learning control and the house needed to be set in order for Laura's betas. There was too much to do. And they were needed here.

Isaac gave him the most pitiful look he could manage. Erica ducked her head and whined softly. But Derek didn't budge. He was firm on the matter. Seeing Stiles was too much of risk when they were this upset. Isaac suggested that he could come over, in case he needed a friend. Derek refused that suggestion straight out of the gate. Stiles wasn't stupid. And he had heeded Cora's warning regarding him. Given enough time, the boy would discover what they were. And Derek couldn't guarantee that they reaction would be a good one. Stiles may not have been a hunter. But he was still the son of the sheriff. And that was just as dangerous.

In the end, he put his betas to work. Telling them to give Stiles some generic excuse. They complied whilst sulking. But it did give Derek another idea. This Scott kid was rather like Erica. Ill and fragile. With a condition that could very well end his life at a moment's notice. Asthma was easily cured with the bite. And with how things were going with the other three, Scott would acclimate to the pack in no time. It was a thought, if a slightly dangerous one. He knew that there was a good chance that Scott would accept. But that still left the matter of Stiles. Turning another person who he was associated with. Derek pushed it to the back of his mind as he unloaded yet another box. He could worry about it tomorrow.