By now sleep was a foreign concept. Stiles spent the night tossing and turning, he couldn't seem to shut his mind off, he tried counting sheep, meditation, even listening to a recording of crashing waves but all that did was make him want to pee. No matter what Stiles tried he couldn't get the image of Isaac's terrified face out of his mind. He keeps replaying that moment over and over again, looking for something, anything that would indicate if Isaac was lying. Stiles isn't sure what he wants more, to find out if the wolf is lying about his feelings…or telling the truth. Would it really be such a bad thing to have someone care about him, To hold him, make him feel special and loved?
The sound of heavy footsteps jostled Stiles from his thoughts. He glanced up from his folded hands on the tabletop just as his Dad rounded the corner into the kitchen. John startled at the sight of his son. Neither man expected to see each other up this early. "What are you doing up?" The Sheriff sighed. He ran a tired hand through his short hair.
"Couldn't sleep," Stiles answered softly. The airy silence of the house made his voice seem louder. "Brain won't turn off." Thankfully John hadn't heard the commotion from the roof last night. He had been watching a heated game of football while Stiles and Isaac were busy yelling at each other, small miracles he supposes. Stiles paused to examine his Dad. The man was on edge, his shoulder were pulled taunt and he carried himself stiffly like he expected something to jump out at him at any moment, but it was the fact that he was wearing him uniform that caught Stiles by surprise. "Is everything OK?"
"No. I just got a call from the station, a hiker found a mass of bodies out in the preserve."
"Animal attack?" Stiles found himself asking, but for the first time in months he wasn't asking for any reason other than curiosity. There is no pack to run to if the bodies were supernatural related; no reason to get involved. "Not sure," John grabbed his keys from the hook above the counter top and shoved them into his jacket pocket. "I don't want to catch you and Scott running around the preserve-"
"You won't," Stiles cut in, "I need to finish my history project so Danny and I were going to stay late at the library. Can't promise Scott wont though, dude can do whatever the hell he wants, I don't care." His voice dripped with venom, so much so that John paused in his task to finish readying himself. He arched an eyebrow, an uncertain 'humm' leaving his lips. "He's being an ass," Stiles answered, "worse then an ass. I'll tell you about it later." He didn't want his dad to walk out the door and face down an unknown threat but seeing John nod and affirm that he would be home by dinner and that they would talk, it went a long way to ease his heckled nerves. "Be safe." He whispered to the now empty room.
Rain fell like waves around the Jeep, pelting down against the glass like gun shots , the sound echoing through the small compartment. Stiles sighed. He tugged his jacket closer to his chest, trying to chase away the lingering cold that wafted through the car. He couldn't bring himself to slid out of the Jeep and make a mad dash for the school entrance. His body ached with a numbing cold already, adding soaked clothes from the pelting rain would only make the shivers worse.
A sudden knock at his window caused Stiles to jump. He flung himself against the side of the passenger seat, a jagged scream leaving his lips. He could feel his heart thud against his rib cage like a marching band had taken refuge in his chest.
A familiar face stared back at him through the blurry window. Chiseled jaw gave way to a row of perfect white teeth and a pair of murky eyes seemed to silently laugh at him. "Stiles!" he could barley hear their voice over the pelting rain and the roaring wind. Stiles contemplated ignoring them and high tailing it out of the school parking lot but before he could reach for his keys the door was yanked open and Danny reached inside yanking his keys out of the ignition. "Hey!" The Hawaiian ignored his protests and slid the keys into the front of his red skinny jeans.
"Get out or I'm keeping your keys. There is no way you are leaving me here to work on our assessment alone. Get out."
Stiles mumbled under his breath, "So aggressive." He grabbed his bag and quickly followed after Danny. Fat droplets of rain fell heavy against his face and neck.
"Someone has to be," Danny chuckled.
"Is that sarcasm I hear? Are we gonna have a sarcasm off, cause Dude you are so going down!" He turned to get a better look at Danny and nearly tripped over the sidewalk. If it wasn't for the Hawaiian's sudden grip on his elbow his face would have met the pavement. Stiles quickly thanked him, his cheeks burned with embarrassment as he ducked through the double doors leading into the school. No one paid him any attention, not even a glance was spared his way, although Stiles was used to it by now. He's not important of impressive enough to warrant any sideways looks. "I'm glad your feeling better," Danny's sudden voice startled him. "You seemed really upset yesterday," he elaborated. Stiles had almost forgotten about his bad mood at lunch the day before; almost.
"Yea," Stiles mumbled, "I mean, I'm still not like…happy but I suppose I'm not as pissed off as I was Yesterday,"
"I knew you and Scott couldn't stay mad at each other for long, you guys are inseparable." Stiles stopped at his locker. He opened the door quickly and shoved his backpack into the cramped space, pulling out his chemistry books in the process. He couldn't help but sigh. A month ago Stiles would have agreed with Danny; Scott and he were like brothers, they were inseparable but now Stiles doesn't even recognize the man he's known his entire life. "I'm still pissed," Stiles replied curtly, "Scott's turned into a…monster," which is kind of ironic really, "he deserves to be hit by a bus and a few other things."
"Stiles that's not-"
"This," he gestured wildly to the still healing bruises on his face, "is his fault, because of him I had the shit beaten out of me and then he has the audacity to play victim and start spreading bullshit around about how I-" he quickly cut himself off before he started to babble about werewolves and creepy old men. "You know what," Stiles sighed, "never mind."
"No," Danny practically growled, "not never mind. Stiles, it's not good to keep all this bottled up and if Scott had something to do with what happened to you, you should tell someone." His grip was like iron on his bicep. Stiles hadn't noticed that his hand was there.
"It doesn't matter anymore Danny, just drop it, please." Today had started out as such a good day and Stiles wants to keep it that way, he doesn't want to think about Scott or werewolves or any other supernatural bullshit, he just wants to have one normal day.
"Fine," Danny gritted out, "I'll drop it…for now." Stiles couldn't help but grin- it's the same answer he would have given.
True to his word Stiles tried not to think about the pack or Scott but it was proving difficult with Isaac lurking around every corner, his cheeks flushed pink, stuttering out a greeting. Danny thought it was cute and every chance he got he would tease Stiles about the 'sweet puppy' following him around. "He's staring again," Danny elbowed him just below the ribs. Stiles head wiped around just in time to see Isaac's blushing face turn away. "He likes you," Danny whispered just as Coach's shrill whistle pierced his eardrums.
"Shh," he hissed. Stiles eyes darted around the group crowded around them. They were in the middle of gym class, people crowded around them from all sides. Although Stiles wasn't exactly in the closet, he hasn't been overly open with his sexuality and the last thing he needs is for everyone in his gym class to start another batch of rumors. Danny elbowed him again with a snicker, "He's looking again." Stiles glanced up again and sure enough Isaac was staring at him again, this time the beta didn't turn away, instead his face broke out in a smile, his cheeks still tinted red.
A warm breath tickled the shell of his ear, "Defiantly likes you." Stiles swatted at the hard chest behind him.
"Shut up," he mumbled, "you sound like a twelve year old girl."
"Stilinski," Coach's voice boomed. All eyes turned to him, including the packs, their feral glares set his nerves on edge but he was determined not to let it show. "You want to tell the class about your little discussion." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Stiles slung his arm over Danny's shoulder and grinned.
"Danny and I were just saying how much we love coming to class and being in the presence of our favorite teacher," He gave Danny's shoulder a squeeze when the other teen snorted, "you are truly an inspiration to us, Coach." Some of the class laughed while others rolled their eyes, even the corners of Erica's lips turned up.
"No one likes a suck up Stilinski."
"I know someone who does," Danny mumbled. Stiles could feel his entire body heat up. Several people around them seemed to have heard but said nothing about it as they turned back to face Coach who had already started off on another tangent.
Stiles rubbed his sweaty palms against his thighs. Now that he was standing at the bottom of the rock climbing wall it suddenly seemed a whole lot bigger. "Listen up ladies!" Coach blew his shrill whistle, "whoever reaches the top the fastest will be excused from picking up rubbish at lunch." The class collectively groaned. Stiles had almost forgotten, as part of the schools new 'no litter policy' everyone was required to pick up at least ten pieces of litter before next period. "Who wants to go first?" Silence settled over the class. Some looked away trying to avoid Coach's gaze, like it would somehow make them invisible. After a moment Stiles stepped forward ready to volunteer. He'd rather get it over and done with. Just as Stiles stepped forward something hard smacked into his shoulder, he stumbled forward, pain flaring through his arm. He looked up, meeting Scott's glowing eyes. The wolf smirked at him, more canines then teeth. "I'll go first Coach."
"McCall! Good initiative." What a fucking asshole.
Rage coiled in his gut. Vicious like fire ripping through a dense forest. Stiles sneered. He could feel his hands shaking at his sides as Scott approached the wall. He placed one hand on the colored step in the wall and at the sound of Coach's whistle he heaved himself up onto the wall. His limbs moved faster than any humans could. He looked like predator, rushing towards his prey, ready to strike with sharpened teeth and claws. Stiles hand twitched by his side again. His fingers tingled with a surge of energy he didn't know he had. He held his breath, watching, waiting for Scott to reach the top of the wall. It didn't take long before the wolf reached up and slapped the red buzzer. The click of Coach Finstocks stop watch followed two shrill rings from the buzzer. "Congratulations McCall, now get your ass back down here."
Scott turned back around to smirk at Stiles, his sharpened teeth made him look more feral then teenage boy. He could feel himself becoming angrier by the second and it only seemed to fuel the wolf. Scott climbed down quickly, his teeth still sharp like razor blades. He made his way through the crowd, ignoring those who patted his back and congratulated him on his time but Scott's eyes remained locked to Stiles. The wolf swerved at the last second, slamming their shoulders together as he passed. Stiles bit down on his bottom lip to stop himself from screaming. The force behind it was enough to cause pain to flare up through his old injuries. "Watch it omega." Scott hissed so quietly that he seemed to be the only one to hear it. Omega, he'll show Scott who the lone wolf is. He curled his wrist up, his fingers curled towards his palm and with a quick flick of his wrist the tingling in his fingers subsided. A roar of laughter erupted from around them. Stiles glanced over his shoulder. Scott's face was scarlet red, his gym shorts down around his ankles. He quickly snatched them up and smiled awkwardly at the crowd. Stiles could hear Coach sigh and blow his whistle but his attention was solely on Scott. The tingling in his fingers returned and with another flick of his wrist, he sent the wolf's shorts sailing to the floor. The gym echoed with laughter, even Coach couldn't hide his smile, however, a sharp shriek of his whistle drew the attention of the class.
The feeling of having Scott at his mercy was amazing, it was like letting go of a piece of his anger. He curled his hand up again, ready to unleash the power tingling through his fingers but a firm hand latched onto his wrist and squeezed- hard. Stiles flinched and whirled around to glare at Danny. He faulted as the glare was returned. "Enough," Danny hissed between clenched teeth, "I get that your angry and rightfully so," his eyes flickered to the prominent bruises on his face, "but whatever it is he did, it doesn't justify stooping to his level." Danny twisted his wrist sharply so that both of their forearms were visible. Just before the crook of their elbows was an identical scar, jagged but white in color. In order to see it you would have to know what you were looking for.
Stiles let out a long breath. He was given that scar when he entered the program- when he discovered his powers and there was no doubt that it was the same for Danny. Buried beneath the scar is a small microchip that relays information to the agency. It alerts them every time he uses his powers, when his heart rate spikes, even his blood sugar level is recorded. The agency knows everything that happens, Everything.
It never crossed his mind that there would be others like him in Beacon Hills, let alone at his school. Stiles has never met anyone like him before. "How did you…" he couldn't finish, he was still in shook.
Danny sighed, "Because I'm not an idiot…and I saw what you did Yesterday." The reminder of what he did made his stomach drop. He hasn't used his powers since he got them, too afraid to even think about it but in the past two days Stiles has gone against everything he knows and used them with the sole purpose to hurt someone. Monster. Danny squeezed his wrist as a comforting gesture, his hands were no longer harsh like they had been before. "You said he was responsible for that," his eyes trailed to his bruised face again, "so I get the need for payback but you need to stop, before it goes too far." The desire for revenge is like a drug and Stiles is an addict but he nodded anyway, to appease his friend.
"Stilinski!" Coach called, "get your ass up that wall." Stiles groaned.