Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. I only own my characters and plot. If you recognize it, I probably don't own it.
The Unexpected
Chapter Eight: Sometimes Ice Cream Doesn't Make Everything Better
"Shit, Cara!" Stiles yelled running around the table and over to the limp blonde laying on the floor next to the sleek metal cabinets. He rolled her head over to look at her face- no blood, no cuts, no external injuries. Stiles grabbed her shoulders and hoisted her up to lean against the wall, while making sure she was in a semi-normal sleeping position. Derek watched Stiles gingerly move her hair and fix her small pale hands- nearly physically sick at the sight. His groggy eyes rolled. He cleared his throat.
"Right, right, sorry." Stiles clambered up to stand back at the table, eyeing the electric saw with disdain. "So, uh, you weren't really serious about the whole," he paused, watching Derek's eyes narrow. "cutting off the arm thing. Were you?" Derek pushed the hunk of metal towards him, enjoying the sight of him squirming with disgust. Stiles lifted the saw and hit the switch, feeling it vibrate with life in his hands, imagining that slicing through an arm- Derek's arm. A ping of revulsion shot up his spine and he throw it back on the table.
Derek was already wrapping a taut elastic around his bulky arm. Bile rose in Stiles' throat.
"W-What if you bleed to death?" He asked, holding a reflexive hand to his mouth, watching Derek tie the band with his teeth.
"It'll heal if it works." Derek replied simply, finishing the tie. Stiles looked down at Cara and let out a reluctant breath. This was not the way he thought he was going to spend his night. He thought: take Cara home, go by the station to see if anything exciting was happening, maybe do some monotonous homework, grab a bite to eat, play some video games. Not cutting off someone's freaking arm.
"Look, I don't know if I can do this."
"Why not?" Derek demanded.
"Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood." His voice cracked, imagining the grotesque sight of a severed arm laying- pale, limp, and twitching- on the cool metal operation table. And the blood pouring from the still-living human with no arm. Derek slapped his hand on the table.
"You faint at the sight of blood, too?" Derek sighed, exasperated.
"No, but I might at the sight of a chopped off arm." Stiles retorted, exhaling a heaving breath.
"Alright fine, how about this," Derek voice grew weaker and slower, and his breaths growing more and close in between. "Either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head." Stiles leaned back with irritation.
"Okay, you know, I'm so not buying your stupid threats anymo-" Stiles was cut off by a firm hand yanking his shirt collar over the table. "Oh my god- okay, alright. Bought, sold, totally. I'll do it. Kay? I'll do it." But Derek didn't release Stiles' shirt. "What? What are you doing?" Stiles asked, watching him heave over the side of the table. And then, thick, black, gooey sludge erupted from Derek's mouth and splattered onto the concrete ground. "Holy-god, what the hell is that?" Stiles wined.
"My body, trying to heal itself." Derek rasped, still bent over the side of the table.
"Well, it's not doing a very good job of it." Stiles remarked, keeping his own gooey insides from spilling from his lips. Derek's eyes flashed up to Stiles.
"Now. You gotta do it now." Derek commanded, clenching his numb arm. Stiles glanced at it and shuddered.
"Look, honestly, I don't think I can."
"Just do it!" Derek yelled, his voice echoing off the metal table.
"O-Oh my god- okay, okay." Stiles conceded, reaching for the saw. He hit the switch to turn it on, feeling the familiar vibration in his hands, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. He held the saw over Derek's arm, about an inch below the blue elastic and blinked rapidly. "Oh god," he moaned. "Here we go!" He warned, mostly to himself rather than Derek.
"Stiles?" He heard, muffling through the clinic. He stopped, I know that voice.
"Scott?" Stiles called back, looking in the direction of the doorway. Scott rushed into the room, first seeing an unconscious Cara in the corner, and then taking in Stiles holding an electric saw to Derek's arm.
"What the hell are you doing?" He ran over, watching as Stiles sighed in relief and sagged against the operation table.
"Oh, you just prevented a life time of nightmares." Stiles replied, feeling his mind relax for a split second.
"Did you get it?" Derek asked, grappling for the item that Scott was pulling from the pocket of his pants. Derek lifted it to his eyes sight, blocking out the dogs barking in the distance of the clinic to think.
"What are you going to do with it?" Stiles asked, part of him, though, really didn't want to know.
"I'm gonna," Derek took a deep breath, his mind growing foggy. "I-I'm gonna," He rasped, before falling to the ground in an unconscious heap. And also dropping the bullet down a drain in the process.
"No, no, no, no, no, no." Scott fell to the ground to grab at the bullet, his hands too big to fit between the grates. Stiles ran to Derek's side, calling his name and swatting at his cheeks to grant a response.
"Scott, what the hell are we gonna do?" Stiles exclaimed, shaking Derek's face.
"I don't know!" He yelled back, pinching at the bullet. He closed his eyes and pictured his claws growing, elongating from his fingertips to grip the bullet. He felt his fingertips tingle, and knew it was happening, but before his claws could even pierce through his skin, a small, pale hand was poking through the grates next to him, grabbing the bullet and holding it in front of his face.
"Looking for this?" Cara asked arrogantly. Scott smiled at her and snatched the bullet from her hand, running over to Derek and Stiles. Stiles was cradling his hand and still hadn't yet noticed the conscious blonde. Scott passed the bullet onto Derek, who reached his hand out to get help standing back up after being so rudely awakened by Stiles. Stiles glanced up at the third pair of helping hands, and saw the ashen and clammy face of Cara Rodgers. They only shared a brief look of relief, though. They had other things to worry about.
Cara had begun to wake up around the time that Scott ran into the room. Luckily, she didn't see Stiles getting ready to amputate Derek's arm, she probably would have passed out again. She was pretty content with watching the two boys handle the situation, given her pounding head and foggy eyes, she was in no condition to jump back into the fray. But, when she saw Scott- poor, adorable, apparently werewolf Scott- struggling with the drain, she couldn't sit by and watch any longer.
So, here she was, helping these two boys hoist this heavy man up so he could do whatever he needed to do with this bullet that Scott went through hell to get. Cara also took extra care not to let her eye sight drop to Derek's forearm, for her own well-being.
When Derek had gained his balance back, with both his arms on the table, he bit into the tip of the bullet, breaking the tip off and pouring its contents out in front of the three teens. Leafy green grains were scattered in a loose pile, resembling (to Cara, at least) a certain illegal substance. Derek flicked a lighter, one that he seemed to have pulled out of no where, and held it to the greens. They ignited and flew up into sparks of white-hot light, then died down immediately, making Cara, Scott, and Stiles sigh collectively in the relief that they wouldn't be burning down a building today. Blue smoke rose from the ashes as Derek scooped the remains into his shaky hands. And without warning, he slammed the the ashed into his open wound, making the boys wince and Cara turn away in disgust. He used his finger to push the ashes farther into his bullet hole, eliciting a yell of pain from the elder werewolf. His wound glowed blue and a blue smoke rose from his arm. Derek thrashed and flung himself onto the ground, still yelling in anguish. His body contorting with the pain of his wound burning and healing and Cara peeked through her fingers for a moment before retreating back behind them. There was only so much she could handle.
And with one last animistic roar of pain, the hole in Derek's arm closed and the black lines retreated back to their origin.
"That," Stiles began, glancing at everyone in the room. "Was awesome!" Cara looked at the lanky boy in amusement. "Yes!" Derek sat up, taking a deep breath of finality. Live to die another day, he thought to himself.
"Are you okay?" Scott asked after giving Stiles a less than pleased look.
"Well, except for the agonizing pain?" Derek retorted, using the table to hoist himself up.
"Guessing the use of sarcasm is a good sign of health." Stiles remarked. Derek's eyes didn't soften, and not a single "thank you" was muttered from his lips.
"Okay, we saved your life." Scott told him. "Which means you're going to leave us alone. You got that?" He looked at Stiles and Cara- his defenseless humans. "A-And if you don't I'm gonna go back to Alison's dad a-and I'm gonna tell him everything-"
"You're gonna trust them?" Derek asked. Cara wondered: What does Alison's dad have to do with anything? She felt the weight in her figurative back pack of life getting heavier and heavier. "You think they can help you?"
"Why not?" Scott shrugged. "They're a lot freaking nicer than you are."
"I can show you exactly how nice can be." Derek told him cryptically as he pulled his shirt on over his head.
"W-What do you mean?" Scott asked, reluctantly. Derek looked at the two humans.
"You two, beat it." He directed at them, then turned to Scott. "You, come with me."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Cara said, stopping anyone from moving any further. "I'm done putting up with your bullshit, alright? I get it, you're some big bad werewolf who could probably make my death look like a freaking animal attack. Alright, I get that. But, what just happened, was us saving your life. Not the other way around. And I'll be damned if you brush that off like it was nothing." She looked at Stiles and let out a vicious breath. "Especially towards Stiles. He put up with your bullshit more than anyone today. Not to mention the smell. He deserves a freaking award." Stiles pursed his lips and looked at Derek, fearing for not only his puny little life, but for Cara's also. Without answering, Derek brushed past Cara, knocking shoulders with her, and exited the operation room, muttering under his breath for Scott to follow, knowing that he heard.
"Get her home." Scott said, before leaving the room to follow behind Derek. Stiles momentarily wondered how they were getting to where they were going. Since Scott was on his bike and Derek got a ride from Stiles. A long, annoying, painful ride. But, decided to forget about it, and looked at Cara.
"You want that ride home now?" He asked, smiling sheepishly. Cara looked up at Stiles and felt all her anger and irritation and confusion from tonight dissipate.
"Yeah,"
"Um, the next turn on your right." Cara said, feeling a nervous shaking take over her hands. This next turn on the right, was the entrance to her trailer park, Beacon Meadows. It sounded more like the name of a retirement home. Stiles made the turn and drove slowly over the chronic speed bumps. "U-Uh, it's- uh- it's that one. Right there." Cara pointed at the light blue trailer, with the white wooden porch that was chipping and an uneven middle step. And grass that was a little longer than all the other front yards and a drive way that had pesky weeds poking through the subtle cracks. All the blinds were drawn and the front door was closed, not a single light on inside. She sighed.
"This is it," Stiles repeated, putting the car in park and leaning back from the steering wheel.
"Yup," Cara muttered. "Home sweet home." She winced and looked over to gauge Stiles' reaction. But he didn't really have one.
"So, since I know where you live now, I could give you a ride to school in the mornings." Stiles offered, glancing at Cara from the corner of his eye. Cara's lips pursed and she broke her gaze from her retched house to the adorably awkward boy next to her. She nearly smiled.
"I don't know, I did pass out in your care. Twice. Don't know if I should take anymore chances like that." She said with a tisk. Stiles chuckled.
"Yeah, well. The way things are going, you should just stay away from me if you pass out at the sight of blood." And suddenly, the atmosphere became sullen.
"So, everything you said, about Scott being a werewolf, that was all true?" Cara asked, not breaking her eyes from the side of Stiles' face. He sighed, rubbing his hands on the steering wheel.
"Yup," He replied.
"If this wouldn't have happened, would you have told me?"
"Do you want the truthful answer? Or the not-truthful one?" Cara sighed, leaning back in her seat. "Look, Cara, the reason I didn't tell you was because I wanted to keep you out of it. I didn't lie to you on purpose. I was protecting you. Well, at least I thought I was."
"I always sort of knew that something shady was going on with you and Scott." She said, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them to look at Stiles. He was already watching her. "I-I just never thought that anything like this could be possible. It's-It's," Cara struggled to find the right words. "It's fucking awesome." Stiles laughed. "Have you seen Scott wolfed out? Is that the proper term? Wolfed out? Wolfed up? Shit, is he like- is he like a superhero or something? Does he grow teeth and claws and hair? Does he look like the Wolf Man? Or like Taylor Lautner? Like, a real wolf, I mean. Dude, I wanna-"
"Whoa, calm down. I can only answer so many questions." Stiles interrupted with a laugh.
"Okay, okay. Sorry." She conceded, resting her bushy head against the head rest. "Can you promise me something?"
"Yeah, yeah. Sure, what is it?" Stiles asked, resting his left wrist against the steering wheel, trying his absolute best to look cool.
"Don't ever, ever, ever, ever, keep something like this from me again. Okay? This kinda thing is way too freaking cool to be kept out of." Stiles smiled a little, thinking about how many times he'll probably break that promise.
"I promise." Cara smiled a real genuine smile. One that made all the negative, scary thoughts leave Stiles mind without him even realizing it.
"How about we go get some ice cream or something? All this passing out and life saving has given me an atrocious appetite." Stiles chuckled, reaching for the gear shift to put the jeep in reverse.
"That sounds amazing."
"Most embarrassing thing you've ever said to a crush. Go." Stiles said, using his plastic ice cream spoon as a make shift flag, waving it around like a gavel. Cara bit her lip and swallowed the remains of her mouthful of ice cream, thinking.
"Hmm," She hummed. She was never really an embarrassing child. She knew when to hold her tongue, and she was usually the one who left them nervous and babbling. Usually. "When I was, like, thirteen I think I told Matthew Crew that he was a beautiful human being." Stiles laughed, throwing his head back and opening his mouth in that way that makes Cara's heart beat a little bit faster and the corners of her lips rise a little bit higher.
"Seriously?" Stiles wheezed. "Matt Crew? Oh my god, that's gold." He said around his bubbling laughter. Cara waved her hand at him.
"Yeah, yeah. Alright laugh it up. I was in love back then, okay? Well, at least I thought I was." She laughed, taking a bite of her double chocolate chunk sundae with a smile. "Okay, your turn. Most embarrassing thing you've ever done. Go." Stiles removed the spoon from his mouth and hummed in thought. Thinking of all the things that he's done that could be considered embarrassing. That was a very, very long list.
"Probably-uh. Oh god," He rubbed his chin and chuckled. "This is hard. Um. Probably when I was eight and climbed the biggest monkey bars on the playground to impress Lydia Martin." He recalled. The memories of his childhood washing over him in a wave of sadness and nostalgia. He wished times could be easy like that again. "That was- uh- a failure."
"Huh, Stiles Stilinski had a crush on the a great and powerful Lydia Martin? I never would have guess." Cara teased. Stiles tapped his spoon on the rim of his cup.
"Had, yeah. I-I'm not crushing on her anymore. Nope. Not a single little bit." Stiles muttered, feeling partly awkward for talking about this with Cara, but also feeling like they were close enough. They were currently keeping probably the biggest secret in the history of secrets, so. Telling her who his childhood crush was seemed irrelevant. But it still made him uncomfortable.
"Oh, don't kid yourself, Stiles. You're head over heels for that girl." And I have no idea why, she thought. "How long have you had a crush on her, exactly?" Cara asked him, twirling her spoon in the cold gooey chocolate syrup left in the bottom of the cup.
"Oh jeese," Stiles itched his head habitually, like he usually does when he's thinking. "Since the third grade. She asked to borrow my crayon box and I was hooked. She's uh, she's something else."
"You got that right," Cara muttered, pushing her cup of ice cream away from her and tossing the spoon inside. "She sure is something."
"Okay, enough about me. Who are you crushing on?" Stiles pressed, still shoveling his peanut butter and chocolate swirl sundae down his apt throat. Cara's heart began to beat.
"No one." She said, too quickly.
"Oh come on," Stiles said. "We're friends. You can tell me who you're crushing on." Cara bit her lip. Her fearless feeling left her and all that was left was her six year old self who was scared of being abandoned again.
"U-Uh," She pushed a piece of curly hair behind her ear and looked down at the white table. "Honestly, um-"
"Sorry, guys. We're closing." A woman in the Dairy Queen uniform said, picking up the empty cups in front of them. Stiles smiled at the woman, standing up. Cara did the same, thanking her lucky stars for the interruption. Stiles led Cara to the front of the Dairy Queen they were in and held the door open for her.
"Alright well, I gotta get you home so I can go home. It's getting late and my dad will probably be wondering where I am soon. Your parents are probably wondering the same." Cara nodded, putting her petite hands in her hoodie, which had been placed back over her torso the second the pair had walked into Dairy Queen. It was freezing in there.
"Yeah," She said, apathetically. They both got in Stiles' jeep and he drove slowly, as slow as he could, back to Cara's trailer park. The drive was pretty quiet, the only sound was the radio playing Young The Giant quietly in the background. Until a question started nagging at the back of Stiles' mind.
"Did you not want to tell me where you live because you were embarrassed?"
The question hung in the air for a while. Dangling, like a mobile over a newborn's crib. Cara felt that if she took a breath she would swallow it. That single question, she was sure, would be the death of her. The ending. Poof. Gone, she would be. Her eyes didn't leave the road moving in front of the jeep, not daring to look at the boy next to her.
"Yes," Stiles sighed.
"Cara," Stiles started, his grip on the steering wheel loosening as if he was holding the blonde herself. "I would never, ever, judge you. You know that right?"
"Stop it, Stiles." Cara said, wishing to be anywhere but this jeep.
"No, I'm serious. I like you, and I'm your friend because of you. Not because of your clothes or your house or how many friends you have. You are an amazing person, Cara. And what your house looks like won't change that in my eyes, ever." Cara sniffled and blinked. There were pools of water sitting on the edge of her eye lids, but she was determined to not let them betray her and fall. "Cara, lo-look at me." Green eyes met brown with a small spark that neither was sure they felt, or if they imagined it. "You don't have to be embarrassed around me. Trust me, no matter what, I've got you beat when it comes to embarrassing details." Cara gave him a watery chuckle and rubbed her right eye.
"Thanks Stiles."
"For what? I'm only being honest. You don't owe me anything for that." She punched his arm, making him laugh as he pulled in her driveway. "Well, this is where you get off."
"Looks that way." Cara said, not wanting to get out of the car. She wanted nothing more than to stay there, in that moment with him. Looking at each other, just looking. Nothing too serious, nothing that would end up hurting her in the end. Her hand rested reluctantly on the handle.
"I'm picking you up for school right?" Stiles asked as Cara opened the door and sadly hopped out, looking back at him through the open window. Cara smiled, one of those ones that makes Stiles forget who Lydia Martin is, if for a moment.
"If your offer still stands."
"Well, of course." He replied, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel to every syllable.
"Then, yes. I would like that." He smiled, and bumped his fist on the wheel in triumph.
"Sweet,"
"Yeah," They looked at each other for a moment through the opening of the window, breathing the cold air of the night.
"I-"
"We-"
They laughed. And for some reason, it felt too much like an awkward first date. The unbearable part where both of them doesn't know who is going to go for the kiss first. Cara proves to have been it, as she opens her mouth to speak before Stiles.
"I should go." Stiles nodded, looking at his hands for a moment.
"Yeah," They shared one more smile. One that felt different. Like, they had learned a new secret language and were talking back in forth in the beautiful tongue. Cara turned around and walked up her walk, up the stairs, and to the door. Opening it with a turn of the handle, stopping in the doorway to look back at Stiles with regret and a wave. I should have said something. I should have made a move. I should have done something big. I should have kissed him. She watched him drive away.
And Cara had never wished she had a best friend more than in that moment.
A/N
I was listening to Collide and was feeling extra fluffly. So, thank Howie Day for this chapter.
Hey, look at that, I actually updated on the day that I said I was going to. Well, it's the 2 in the morning on Sunday, but close enough for me.
TRAILER FOR THIS STORY IS UP, OMG. THE LINK IS IN MY BIO. GO CHECK THAT ISH OUT. ITS HECKA RAD. I HAVE NO CHILL.
Any who, I hope you guys have had a great week so far, and you should come back on Saturday for the next update.
Love to all who have read to this point. And special love to the 47 fave-ers and the 77 followers. The thanks to the 15 reviewers I have.
Reviews keep me motivated, and we all are happy when I stay motivated.
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