Oh my god. Plz don't kill me. I am so terribly sorry that this is so late. On Friday I had half of the chapter written but then I went to a game and got back late. Fell asleep while writing. Then on Saturday had the SAT til 1:30. Volunteered at the fair from 4-9. Got home late, re-read what I wrote down then re-wrote it. Had to fill out college applications but instead have been writing this every time the mother unit leaves. Any way I just want to clear up a few things before moving onto the story. This won't be a slash fic so Stiles isn't paired with any male characters canon or of my own creation. And to make up for this being late I'll post two chapters on Friday. Now enough of excuses, you want the story. It's around 8 pages on Word.
Warning: not beta'd
Disclaimer- oh the things I'd do if I owned Teen Wolf. nor do I own Shakespeare.
Chapter 3: Gone
Scott had started pacing his room after waking up from a dream. He tried to remember what caused him to wake up but all he could remember was hearing screams and the tearing of flesh. He involuntarily shivered at the memory, but it wasn't he who was the one in pain. It was as if he was sent those images through a mental link. A frown marred Scott's face as he began to pick up the speed of his pacing. Scott glanced out at his window the sky was beginning to become lighter making the stars less visible. Kira was perched on the side of his bed and quietly watched him worry showing on her features.
"Scott," Kira whispered. "Any more and you'll have a hole in your floor." Her voice was hushed to make sure that they didn't wake up his mother. Both were glad for his werewolf hearing, his mother was a light sleeper.
Scott looked at her as he stopped moving. He proceeded to the chair adjacent to his bed and sat down. He leaned back against it resting his head on the back. His neck and the underside of his chin were the only things visible to her.
"Scott. Are you going to tell me why you bolted upright?" Kira spoke softly while readjusting herself on the bed so she was looking at him, well his chin.
"I just-" He sighed. "-It felt like I was watching someone being hurt, tortured even. I can't figure out why I saw those images or who was in them. Derek could tell me but hey look who has gone and disappeared without even telling one member of the Pack." Scott scoffed and moved his hand to rub his eyes. He then tilted his head towards her. His brown eyes were filled with worry.
"Scott. Maybe it was a part of your dream?" She moved so she was directly across from him. "You're worried over nothing." Kira placed a hand on his knee slightly squeezing it.
"But..." He was cut off with a look from her.
"How about we contact the Pack in the morning if the feeling still lingers. If someone is hurt then we will all need a good night's sleep."
Sighing in defeat, Scott rose up from his spot on the chair and took up his previous position on the bed.
"Fine." Scott grumbled into his pillow. Kira gave him a concerned look before shifting to lay down next to him.
'I hope that no one it hurt. Not so soon after everything.' Kira thought before succumbing to sleep's allure once again.
Scott watched as her breathing evened out and her heartbeat slowed. He tilted his head so that he could clearly look through his window at the night sky. The moon was what drew his attention.
'Five days until the next full moon,' Scott assured himself before fully relaxing into his bed. The last thing he saw was the near full moon staring back at him.
Scott woke to the sounds of his mother getting ready for work a few hours later. Groaning, he pushed himself up; Scott tried to look out his window but was prevented by a sharp pain in his neck.
'I knew I shouldn't have fallen asleep like that. Now I'll have a crick in my neck for a while.'
Scott stretched and rubbed his neck trying to work it out hoping that by massaging the muscles he'll almost have a full range of motion. He swung his legs down off the bed and carefully stood up. He had seen Kira sleeping deeply next to him and did not want to be the reason she was awake again. Scott padded towards the bathroom and slowly pulled the door closed cringing when the hinges and wood creaked. He quickly looked back at Kira and saw that she had barely twitched at the sound. He had taken care of his necessities and moved on to brushing his teeth when he heard Kira's heart beat pick up signaling she was waking. By the time he was finished and walked out of the bathroom, she was upright in his bed and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
His gaze shifted to look at the clock on his desk by his door. It flashed 8:09 a.m. in red letters. He figured that they only got a couple of hours of sleep after his episode. He groaned at both the early time and the lack of sleep. Scott set on the task of locating his phone to distract him from concentrating solely on the feeling that was still there in the pit of his stomach. Although it had diminished since its first arrival this morning. He found his phone on his desk next to the lamp where he had left it the night before to charge. Scott scrolled through his contacts until he found Lydia. He sent her a message knowing that Lydia and Malia were still at Lydia's house.
'My house 9.'
After making sure it had sent, Scott locked his phone and placed it back down on the desk. He walked back over to his bed. Kira had finished stretching and had shaken the drowsiness off when she asked, "Is the bathroom open?"
"Yeah. The extra towels are in there already." Scott told her as he grabbed a book off the stack near the chair and sat down.
She grabbed her pack that was at the end of the bed and walked into the bathroom. He tuned out after he heard the lock click into place. Scott had become lost to the world as he was dragged into the fictional world of A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare. He had picked up the habit over the summer to catch up on schoolwork and had found that he enjoyed reading in his spare time. He loved the small escape that it provided from his normally hectic life and in the past few months, it had been difficult to find the time to pick up a novel. He read until Kira had reemerged from the bathroom in a new change of clothes and hair wrapped up in a towel.
"Is the feeling still there?" Kira asked as she dropped the pack onto the ground and Scott set down the book.
"Yeah, but it's less prominent now." Scott sighed as he stood up from the chair. He walked to the door turning around to look at her he asked, "So before everyone gets here do you want breakfast?" Scott opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Kira followed shortly.
They both had finished eating their cereals by the time Lydia had arrived at his house. It was 9 o'clock on the dot and she was looking as pristine as ever. She was hauling an exhausted Malia with her to the front door. Scott began putting away the boxes of cereal as Kira opened the door to let the two into the house. He was washing the dirty dishes while Kira started talking to Lydia about their holiday break plans. Malia had slinked over to him after the trio arrived into the kitchen. He was wiping his hands off when Malia asked where the coffee maker was. Scott figured that coffee wouldn't be such a bad idea and decided that he was going to work it just in case because the last time ended with the coffee being too burnt. He told her to go sit down at the kitchen table while he made up the coffee. He watched her slowly make her way to the table and collapse into the chair only offering an opinion if she was asked.
While waiting for the coffee to brew, he pulled out two mugs from the cabinets. He walked over to the table and set down the sugar and a spoon to dish it out. He heard the coffee start to trickle into the pot and pulled out the creamer from the refrigerator. Scott placed the creamer down by the sugar and only Kira briefly glanced at him clearly engrossed with the topic they were discussing. Something about the new winter collection coming out in January. Both he and Malia watched the brown liquid slowly fill the container. Malia switched her focal point when Scott picked up the pot full of the hot caffeinated liquid. She watched him as he poured the liquid into two mugs. He placed the pot back into its slot in the coffee maker and carefully grabbed the two steaming mugs by their handle hoping to not be burned. He made his way to the table placing a mug down in front of Malia and his chair.
Lydia and Kira stopped their conversation short. It was silent for a few seconds after Scott sat down. He began to pour in the creamer and measured out the sugar to his specifications.
"Where's Stiles?" Lydia asked and one of her sculpted eyebrows rose, it was rare to see Scott without his right hand man during vacation time. Malia was curious herself as she peered over her coffee at her Alpha.
"He went to the beach," this received weird looks from both Kira and Malia. He continued, "For some odd reason he likes to go to the ocean to relax. Stiles told me once that the sound and smell was just as comforting as his home. He spent a lot of time there after his mom's funeral. Stiles goes there to unwind and I don't blame him for going. Actually I'm surprised that he was able to wait this long before going to the beach."
Malia's gaze softened after his explanation.
"Okay. So why are we here, Scott?" Malia spoke after taking a drink from her cup.
"Because I felt like someone was hurt and I panicked. I was going to visit you all last night but Kira convinced me to go back to sleep and to contact you in the morning if I still had the feeling. You can guess the outcome since you are here." Scott had ignored the whispered 'thank you' Lydia and Malia whispered to Kira while he was talking. Lydia was the first to respond.
"Did you talk to Stiles?"
Scott nodded.
"He seemed fine. Albeit a little burnt, but he is fine."
From the corner of his eye, Scott could see Malia relaxing back into the chair. He looked to Kira and was met with a questioning stare.
"It could've had something to do with Derek."
Scott was taken aback by that statement.
"What? Didn't he become like pack after the whole nogitsune situation?" Lydia asked after seeing his shocked face.
Scott hadn't thought of that. Even more reason to find the older wolf.
"It's possible, but I promised Stiles that I'd let him help," -and he's the one who came up with the plan- "with finding and rescuing Derek."
"Fine." Lydia ground out. "When is Stiles coming back?"
"He said he'll be back in a few days then we can go look for our pack member." It was an odd thought to Scott to consider Derek pack after Scott had blatantly refused to be a part of the recovering Hale Pack. Lost in his thoughts Scott didn't notice when the conversation took a turn. The three females argued over what to do with the rest of the day since 'someone' had woke them up. Scott groaned as he absentmindedly stirred his coffee with his spoon wishing for his friend. It's times like these that Scott wishes he could just play COD and gourge themselves on junk food but with Stiles on vacay, he was stuck with whatever plans his pack came up with for the remainder of the day.
Farren tried hard not to flinch each time Trevor put the disinfectant on his wounds and taping the bandages onto his red skin. He was now feeling the sunburn. At first, he thought it was just an effect of too hot of water beating on his already sensitive skin, but he was wrong. With each application of the Band-Aid, it felt as if Trevor was taking sandpaper and rubbing it constantly against his skin. Farren tried not to move around as much to avoid the uncomfortable feeling. Farren wouldn't be surprised if he started peeling in the next few days. Trevor pushed Farren into the room after he finished applying the last bandage and closed the bathroom door leaving Farren alone. Farren yelled his thanks to him as he pulled up the plaid sleep pants Trevor had left him on the dresser. The white cotton shirt he had found after opening all the drawers in the dresser was soft to the touch and it wasn't too tight to cause irritation through friction. Trevor told Farren where he should put his dirty, tattered rags – the trashcan.
Trevor came back from inside the bathroom and all but dragged the other boy through the house and onto the balcony to watch the ocean. They sat in relative silence listening to the waves. Farren was almost asleep when Trevor asked if Farren wanted to go swimming.
"Dude isn't it like freezing this time of year?" Farren looked at Trevor as if the boy had grown a second head in the space of a few seconds. Trevor just laughed and moved to lean against the railings. Farren just settled deeper into the swinging chair he had commandeered.
"It was a joke. But seriously what should we do. I mean we could go bug my Uncle at his restaurant or go to the Pier and fish…" At the mention of fish, Farren's head had snapped up. The motion caught Trevor's attention and it took all of his willpower not to mock the teenager whose face had light up like a toddler's when playing with its favorite toy. His eyes were practically sparkling from either the thought of fishing or just of fish.
"From that reaction, I'm guessing we are going to go fishing." Trevor had hauled himself away from the railing he was leaning on and motioned for Farren to follow him.
The swing had creaked from the absence of the weight and continued to swing long after its occupant left it. Farren was following close behind, his mind racing with the thought and his mouth began to water at just thinking about the taste. Trevor stopped right in front of the stairs and turned to Farren.
"I'm going upstairs to change since it's a short walk to the pier. I think you should do the same unless you want to walk around in pajama pants." A blush had formed on the other male's face out of embarrassment.
"I think I could pull it off," Farren said using his embarrassment to fuel his sarcasm. Trevor laughed as he ascended the stairs.
"You look about my size. Clothes are in the dresser. I assume you remember where they are considering you found that shirt." Trevor stated over his shoulder to Farren as he neared the top steps. When Trevor turned the corner at the top of the stairs, Farren walked into the guest bedroom. He once again riffled through the drawers.
Farren had settled for a pair of jeans, but opted out of getting a new shirt instead keeping the cotton one on. He looked around for shoes. He found a couple of pairs near the left side of the dresser and tried them on. None of them fit, either they were too small or too big. He walked back into the living room crashing on the couch. A few minutes later Trevor came down the stairs his keys jangling from the movement. He had changed from the off-white button up to a black pullover. Farren had stretched out on the couch his feet propped up on the armrest. Trevor arched a brow at Farren's lack of shoes.
"What? I don't know nor remember my shoe size. Quite frankly I'm just glad these pant actually fit." Farren finished with a wave of his hands towards his legs. Trevor chuckled quietly to himself and an idea flashed through his brain.
"My father owns one of those beach side shops." Trevor stated walking over to the door but stopped when he didn't hear movement from the couch. He looked back him catching the look of concentration from the boy and guessed that it had something to do with his lack of memories. Hoping to help Farren find out more about himself he continued, "You know the ones where you can find beach towels, swim suits, and those weird souvenirs?"
"Sounds familiar." Farren grumbled. The look of concentration contorted to one of frustration.
"It's only a short walk from here. You can't go barefoot where we are going to go fish so we can get you some shoes, maybe flip-flops, to wear."
"If and when I regain my memories I owe you so much." Farren sighed further sinking into the couch. His arm was draped along the back and his head was resting against the same armrest it was on earlier in the day.
"Yeah. Yeah. I'll make you a tab. Come on let's go before all the fish die of old age." Trevor opened the front door and motioned for Farren to hurry up.
Farren disentangled himself from the couch with a grunt and walked over to the door. Farren left out the door first and waited on the front porch steps for Trevor to secure the house. Trevor closed the door behind him and pulled out the keys locking the door. Farren was leaning against the small railings on the sides of the steps. Trevor walked past him and onto the street in the direction of his father's shop. Farren followed shortly behind.
Trevor wasn't lying when he said that the store his father owned was only a short walk away. It was around four blocks away and fortunately for Farren the sidewalk continued the whole way making it easier for him to avoid injury to his feet. The two arrived at the store front several minutes later. The front of the building was all windows the top row having a different beach towel between the panes. The entrance were two sliding glass doors underneath a faded green awning. There were only a couple of vehicles in the parking lot. The name of the store was placed on the top of the building with waves circling the words. The image of the storefront tickled the back of Farren's brain; he had seen it before. He glanced around hoping to gain more knowledge but there was only a boat rental place across the street. Disheartened Farren turned to follow Trevor into the store. He walked in looking for Trevor. Farren almost came face to face with a shelf of beach toys but was able to stop himself before he caused any damage. Only two buckets escaped his reach and clattered to the ground.
Farren frantically looked around to find Trevor hoping he wasn't too terribly mad at Farren's clumsiness. Farren spotted Trevor talking to a man near the front desk and absentmindedly put the bucket on the shelf. Farren assumed that the man was Trevor's father if looks were anything to go by. Trevor turned around and waved him over. Farren walked up to the two navigating his way through the maze of shelves not wanting to knock over anything else. Trevor introduced his father with an embellishment of his hand.
"This is my dad. Michael Abram."
"Just call me Mike." Mike extended his hand to Farren who took it. He looked like he was in his mid-forties and had the same shade of brown as his son. He was dressed in a yellow polo with khaki pants and brown leather shoes adoring his feet. The man was smiling causing the edges of his eyes to crinkle.
"Trevor told me about your predicament son. If I can help someone in need, I will. The shoes are in that direction." He pointed over Farren's shoulder – he turned to Trevor. "I'll be in my office if you need me." He patted Trevor on the shoulder and left walking behind the counter to the door there. A phone ringing could be heard when he opened the door and Mike glanced back at Trevor with a stern look before walking in and shutting the door.
Farren had looked to Trevor to ask what the look was for but the words caught in his throat at seeing a look of pure hatred in his eyes. Farren quickly shifted his attention to looking around the shop. He hadn't taken in the details earlier. The store itself was big and contained many things one would need when going to the beach. His eyes were drawn to the small book section that was close by and started walking there but was stopped by Trevor.
"Come on man," Trevor pulled Farren by his arm and started dragging him in the opposite direction.
Farren allowed himself to be manhandled to the shoes but his gaze never left the books, he could see both new and old books there. Trevor had let him go when they reached the racks of shoes and he immediately left in search of the foot measure. Farren saw a pair of gray slip on shoes and walked towards them. He examined them and winced at noticing their price. He physically let them go and walked to the rack of flip-flops. Trevor had noticed this when he came back with the foot measure. Trevor had decided for some payback from previous times by sneaking up on Farren. Farren was none the wiser while looking at some black plastic flip-flops. Trevor smacked Farren lightly on his head causing him to jump and knocking off the shoes.
"What are you doing?" Farren asked as he stooped down and picked up the pair.
Trevor just waved the tool in his hand. Farren exchanged the shoes for the tool and walked towards the small bench that was situated in the middle of the shoe section. While Farren found his size, he hung the black flip-flops back on the hook. He turned to see Farren staring at the display of the gray slip on sneakers. An idea popped into his head and he broke out into a smile. He walked over grabbing the tool from Farren and read the size.
"Wha-," Farren began. Trevor placed the tool down and grabbed the box carefully because it was underneath another box. It came to Farren what he was doing.
"No." Farren protested as he stood. "No. Those are too expensive." He picked up the black flip-flops. "Besides I like these."
Trevor gave him a skeptical look. "And I call bull-shit." He waved the box in front of Farren's face. "I saw you looking at these earlier. Twice." The two had a staring contest after a minute or so Farren gave in.
"I'll put it on your tab." Trevor began walking towards the register.
"Sure thing." Farren replied jogging to catch up to Trevor. Trevor was flirting with the girl behind the register, Carrie. Something about her made Farren uneasy he reasoned it was that she looked familiar. She had curly blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and had wolf earrings. They were silver and the wolf looked like it was howling.
"Cool earrings." She looked to Farren and a look of recognition flashed across her face, but it was gone as soon as it came.
"Thanks. I've never seen you around before. What is your name?" Carrie asked as she scanned the shoes.
"Uh…"
"He's Farren. He's family, visiting from out of town." Trevor quickly said. Carrie nodded putting the shoes into a bag.
"Actually he's going to wear those out." Trevor pointed out. She smiled at him and pulled shoes out to place them in front of Farren.
Farren slipped them on and Carrie handed Trevor the receipt who pocketed it. They made their way back to the house to get ready to go fishing. On the way back to the house they started talking about what type of fish are in season and which lures to use. When they reached the house, Trevor jogged up to the house and unlocked the side door of the garage. He told Farren to wait there while he went in and grabbed the lures. Farren waited by the side of the house and started unknowingly starching his shoulder.
After a couple of seconds Farren realized what he was doing and freaked out thinking that he had reopened it. He pulled down his shirt collar and only saw the white of the bandage, but it didn't stop itching. He slowly peeled the bandage from his shoulder and froze. The wound was gone.
'It's impossible. They should've taken weeks to heal. Not hours.'
Farren fell to his knees, hands gripping the side of his head. Trevor found him in that position as he came out of the garage. He quickly placed the lure box and poles on the side of the house and ran to Farren. He lightly shook him.
Farren didn't know how long he was like that but his brain was a jumbled mess. Images kept dancing across his mind but he couldn't get a good look at them before they disappeared. Trevor shaking him snapped him out of his trance. Farren realizes he had been crying as he looked up at Trevor who hauled him to his feet. Farren stumbled as Trevor dragged him to the porch. He leaned against the wall there. Trevor looked at him worried.
"Did you remember something?"
"No." Farren breathed.
"Then what happened?" His voice was laced with concern.
"They're gone." Farren's gaze never left the floor.
"Who's gone? You're not making any sense." Trevor huffed out and started to pace. "I thought you said you didn't remember anything!" Trevor said exasperatedly.
Farren's eyes snapped to Trevor's, "The wounds. They're gone."
So how did ya'll like seeing the Pack? Poor Scott he's surrounded by girls without Stiles. I do like cliffhangers even when I was writing this just for myself. Thanks for reading and if you have any questions review or PM me. Until this Friday with two chapters, Bluetears out~
