Told you this would be a long one! Hoping the next one will be long too. Thanks for all the follows/likes/reviews, keep it up! x

Chapter 8

Stiles lay in the hospital bed at Beacon Hills Memorial, surrounded by her father, Melissa McCall, and her friends. It had been 5 hours since she had been brought in, and she was eager to leave. The sun was beginning to rise and she wanted to go home and enjoy her last day before school start back tomorrow. Her sleeping pattern was going to be so messed up. It was going to be a fun start to the last term.

"Seriously Dad," she said. "It's not bad. They stitched me up, gave me some nice drugs, I feel great!"

"You're not fine, Stiles," the Sheriff was pacing around the room panicky. "You passed out from the blood loss, that is not fine to me!"

"Actually," Melissa interjected. "She didn't lose enough blood to faint; it was the constriction to her neck. When the man let go of her throat it caused the blood to flow back to her brain too quickly."

The Sheriff shot Melissa a pained look and Melissa took a step back and closed her mouth.

"See, it's not that bad," Stiles said, somewhat back to her old self.

"What were you even doing there that late Stiles?" her Dad demanded.

"Just going for a late night drive, I was bored," she mumbled. She hated lying to her Dad but she didn't want him to know she was having secret stakeouts every night while he had been taking the night shifts. The Sheriff sighed and sat down in the chair beside the bed. He turned to Scott.

"Should we be worried about the scratches on her arm? They're really deep," his eyes were scared.

"No, she'll be fine. They weren't Alphas," he reassured him.

"Awesome. I'm not going to turn into a werewolf; I didn't lose that much blood, my arms okay. Everything's fine," Stiles said.

"Your arm is not fine, Stiles. You're going to have scars!" her Dad yelled, startling everyone in the room. Stiles cheeky smile fell from her face.

"Dad," she breathed. "I know. But, I'm lucky to bed alive, and if that cost a few badass scars, then that's cool with me."

Her Dad smiled slightly at her, somehow Stiles was always finding a way to bounce back from these situations, despite everything that had happened to her in the past couple of years. She had a gift of turning her tragedies into her strengths.

"What about these two new werewolves?" he asked. "Should we be worried?"

"I think Derek may have scared them off for now. But I wouldn't count on them staying away, they seemed pretty keen to go after Scott, unfortunately," Stiles told them. "I think it would be best if someone stayed with Scott, for extra protection."

"I will," Kira chirped up immediately. She and Scott smiled warmly at each other. Good, Stiles thought, less worry for her.

"What about you?" her Dad said. "They could have your scent now, right? Who's going to protect you?"

"I can do it," Malia suggested. Stiles wanted to object but she knew this would make her Dad happy, and Malia was good company when you didn't feel talking or getting deep. She was happy to just hang out.

"Great. All settled. Can I go home now?" she pleaded.

Melissa brought in the doctor, who talked to her and her Dad about taking care of stitches and how to change the bandages and how to tie up her sling and blah blah blah. Stiles wanted to leave. She knew she could rely on her Dad to take care of it, and Melissa would be calling her daily to ask how she was. With that, she was discharged from the hospital went home with Malia and her Dad. She shuffled upstairs like a zombie and collapsed on her bed, falling asleep before her body was even horizontal.

Despite her initial joy over her survival, Stiles was hit with a heavy depression on Monday morning, and it wasn't because it was her first day back at school. She couldn't quite pinpoint the reason for her sadness. Her arm hurt and when she had changed the bandage for the first time the ugliness of it had caught her off guard, she had serious bruising on her neck and it ached to swallow. But it wasn't that. She concluded that it was a combination of things. Not only was she scared about the new Omegas in town wanting her best friend's blood and the threat they posed to her reasonably stable life and nearing graduation, she was also admittedly still hurt by everything Derek had said to her. If anything, she felt worse now because of what had happened. It had only reiterated what he said about her being weak. Had he not come to her rescue she would have died. Great, now she was indebted to Derek Hale.

Everyone whispered and stared at her at school. The police – all expect her Dad and Parrish – were told that it was just a mugging gone wrong. She would continue to be the weird kid. She would have to move her goal of losing her virginity to the graduation party, when all of this had been forgotten. Kira and Liam were keeping an extra watchful eye on Scott, while Malia was sticking to her own guard duty on Stiles. Lydia had no bad feelings or any inkling so everything seemed fine. For now.

After a relatively uneventful first day, Stiles went home, followed by Malia. She grabbed the mail out of the letterbox and they went inside to watch the television quietly, as her Dad was still asleep after his night shift, which Stiles had insisted he take instead of having the night off to watch over Stiles. She sorted through the mail absentmindedly. Bill, bill, bill, junk, bill, Beacon County Community College. Woah. She held the envelope uncertainly in her hand; as if it were a bomb and it might explode, before snapping out of her daze and ripping it open. Malia watched curiously. She folded out the letter and skimmed over the first few lines.

Dear Miss Stilinski,

Congratulations! We are pleased to inform you of your admission to the Beacon County Community College for the fall semester...

"Woohoo!" Stiles cheered, jumping up from her spot on the couch. "I got into the Community College!"

"That's great, Stiles," Malia smiled, giving her a gentle hug, though her face looked a little concerned.

"I'm sure you'll get in Malia, it's only community college," she told her.

"I hope. So are you going to accept it?" Malia asked. Stiles looked at the acceptance deadline; it wasn't until May 1, over a month away.

"Not yet, this is the only letter I've got, so I'll wait and see if I get any other offers first," she said.

"You will," she smiled.

This was exactly the confidence boost Stiles needed. At least she knew now that she would definitely be going to college. She still wasn't 100% sure what she wanted to do. Secretly, she wanted become a police officer like her Dad, though she hadn't told anyone that. Everyone had such high hopes for her, expected her to do so much, but she wasn't ambitious like Lydia or definite like Scott and Kira. They knew what they wanted to do. Scott wanted to be a veterinarian, like Deaton, and Kira a history teacher, like her father. As for Malia, she just wanted to learn. She was constantly struggling to keep up with everyone on an intellectual level, so she valued the chance at a college education. Stiles knew that she didn't need college to become a police officer, but she felt it was something she needed to obtain, for her father's sake, and her mother's memory.

Stiles shortly received texts from both Scott and Kira. They had also been accepted. She could tell Malia was getting anxious, so she sent her home and promised to wake up her Dad or call Liam or Parrish or someone to come over and watch her, but she didn't. She peeked in on her Dad, who was sound asleep, and decided to leave him at peace. She took the letter up to her room and stashed it in her college information pile. She heard a thump come from her window and turned to see Derek Hale climbing through her window. So that's how he did it. He normally just appeared out of thin air and scared her senseless.

Stiles was no longer sad about the Derek situation. She was now full-blown angry. She marched across the room and slapped him as hard she possibly could across that stupid face of his. Of course, Stiles had forgotten that hitting a werewolf was like hitting a brick wall and thus it hurt her more than him.

"Fuck," she gasped after slapping him. He hadn't even flinched. Show-off.

"You should have known that would hurt," he said.

"You should shut up," she snapped. "I cannot believe you would have the guts to come here after what happened. Did you know that they would smell you on me? Why did you wait so long to show up?"

"Yes," he said.

"Yes what? I deserve answers don't you think?"

"I knew they would smell you on me. I knew it would make them approach you. I had hoped that because you were human they wouldn't hurt you," he explained.

"You hoped? You hoped!" she yelled, her voice strained and croaky because of her sore throat. "Do you realize how much danger you put me in? They could have killed me! Next time you make a gamble with my life; make sure you inform me first, okay?"

"Would you have still done it knowing the risks?" he asked curiously. Stiles thought about it. Honestly, she had already known it had been risky. She had known they smashed the gas station window, and that they were Omega werewolves. Obviously, she knew there was a chance they could have attacked her. But had she known in advance that they would be able to smell Derek on her, would she have still done it. It wasn't the worst situation Stiles had willingly put herself in. Hell, she'd gone into werewolf fights armed with only a baseball bat.

"Yes," she answered. "I would have. But I also would have like to have known what I was walking into. I like to be prepared."

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry."

Stiles was a little surprised. Was Derek actually apologizing to her?

"What was that?" she asked, in case she had heard wrong.

"I said I'm sorry. I made you sit in that car every night all week, insulted you, then put you in danger and you got hurt. I'm sorry."

Stiles had to restrain herself from smiling victoriously. She wish she had a camera to capture the look on Derek's face, he was showing an emotion other than bitterness!

"Apology accepted," she said.

"All those things I said about you, I didn't mean it. I don't know why I said it."

"Because we annoying the hell out of each other?" she began to laugh, but her voice cracked again and she rubbed her sore neck. Derek stepped forward and reached his hand out towards her. She instinctively flinched away.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Stiles," he said. She allowed him to place his hands softly on her neck, one at a time. She could feel the pain beginning to drain away as he used his werewolf abilities to help her. After the pain had gone, his hands lingered on her neck for a second longer, and then he pulled away. Stiles was alarmed to find that she was disappointed he was no longer touching her.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Although the bruising was still there, it wasn't as red and flared and didn't feel as deep. Her swallowing even felt normal. When she turned back to Derek, he was halfway out the window.

"Thank-you," she said. He shrugged.

"I kind of owed you."

"You still owe me," she grinned. "BIG time."

Derek frowned momentarily, then smiled faintly.

"Agreed," he said before dropping out of the window. Stiles allowed her smile to grow from ear to ear. She felt like a teenage girl with a crush. Wait, was she a teenage girl with a crush? No, Derek was just attractive, and charming.

He was way too irritating for her to think about seriously. But that didn't stop her from thinking about him in a 'what if' dreamily kind of way.