robinonadderall (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
robinonadderall) wrote2013-07-19 10:20 am
robinonadderall) wrote2013-07-19 10:20 am
A School Bus | Afternoon
A five hour bus ride to a track meet was not something Stiles particularly enjoyed doing. Mostly because he hated track, but also because Jared the puker was the last person you wanted to be in a moving vehicle with. Also Scott was acting weird. Both shifty eyed and in pain.
Clearly Stiles had missed something here.
"Okay, spill." The bus hadn't started moving yet, people on the track team will still hanging outside. If there was a reason for Stiles to escape and go back to Fandom he needed to know now. "I know you're hiding something, Scott."
Scott pressed his lips together, like he was thinking about whether now was the right time to tell the truth or not. "I didn't want to tell you over the phone. I was afraid you wouldn't come."
"Well I'm here now," he said. "So tell me what's up."
"Okay...it's just..." Scott exhaled and looked Stiles in the eye. "Last night we got in a fight with the alpha pack."
"Who's 'we'?"
"Me, Isaac, Boyd, Derek, Cora," Scott said. "All of us versus all of them."
"What, Cora's still hanging around?" Stiles asked. "She joining Derek's pack or something?"
"Uh."
That was not a good noise. That was a "I have something to say and I probably should have said it before" noise. Stiles looked at Scott expectantly.
"I, uh, didn't tell you something about Cora. I just, I thought it would make things between you and Derek--the other Derek--weird and I didn't want to mess it up," he said. "It's uh, Cora--she's..."
Stiles gestured wildly at Scott to finish.
"She's Derek's sister, okay?" Scott said. "Cora's name is Cora Hale. She's his little sister, she survived the fire."
"What? How? Where has she been?" Stiles asked. "Why didn't you tell me before?!"
"Shhh, dude, seriously," Scott hissed. "I told you, I didn't want to make things weird for you. You were like miserable after you and Derek got into the fight about Laura."
Scott...had a point there. And Stiles did understand where he was coming from. But still. Derek's sister being alive was a huge thing. A huge thing he now had to keep from Derek. Great. "So where has she been?"
"Um, I don't know. I assumed she told Derek," Scott said. "I mean, not that's going to help now...Stiles, the fight didn't go well."
"What do you mean it didn't go well?" he asked. "Are you hurt? You're hurt, aren't you? I know the 'Scott in pain' look and you have that look."
"One of them scratched my side, I'll be fine," Scott said, even if he didn't look fine at the moment. "But Derek..."
Stiles frowned. "What about Derek?"
"He fell. He was fighting one of the alphas and he fell a couple stories and landed on his back," Scott said. "He's dead, Stiles, I'm sorry."
Stiles' first reaction was, of course, denial. "Well it's not my Derek, so need to apologize. I mean, yeah, that sucks but...yeah, not him. Are you sure he's dead? Did you guys get the body?"
"Well, no," Scott said. "But I saw him, Stiles, he fell back-first a few stories onto an escalator, he wasn't moving."
"Then how do you know if--" Stiles stopped speaking when he saw Isaac and Boyd get on the bus. They looked to be in better shape than Scott. They took seats near the front of the bus and a few moments later Ethan made his way onto the bus, taking a seat next to Danny.
"Where's Aiden?" Stiles wondered.
Scott shrugged. "He was fine last night. It was Ennis that fell with Derek."
The last few members of the track team settled onto the bus and the engine started to come to life. Scott leaned his head against the window, still looking like he was in pain. Stiles settled down into his seat and resisted the urge to text Derek. He was okay, of course he was okay. No need to worry him.
"Anachronism," Stiles read from his tablet (thanks for the birthday gift, Derek). When he didn't hear an answer he gave Scott a gentle nudge. "Scotty. Yo, Scotty, you still with me?"
Scott nodded, snapping out of whatever he was thinking about. "Yeah, sorry. What was the word again?"
"Anachronism," Stiles repeated, turning to look out the back bus window and---yep, Lydia and Allison were still following them in Allison's car. Sheesh. Stalkers, much?
"Something that exists out of its normal time."
"Nice." Hey, they may have lived in a horror world but Scott had the PSATs to study for and Stiles was going to be taking the actual SATs in the fall and he wanted to get into UMD, dammit. "Next word: incongruous."
"Can you use it in a sentence?" Scott asked.
"Yes, yes I can. It's completely incongruous that we're sitting in a bus right now on our way to some stupid cross country meet after what just happened," Stiles said. "Incongruous."
Scott smirked. "Out of place, ridiculous, absurd."
"Perfect. Okay, next word. Ummmmmm darach." Stiles gave Scott an expectant look, but only received a blank look in return. "Darach. It's a noun."
Stiles groaned at Scott's non-answer. "We have to talk about it sometime, okay? We're gonna be stuck in this thing for like five hours so why not?"
Still no answer. Why was he the only person freaking out about the serial killer who had killed more people than the alphas had? Ugh. "Next word: intransigent."
"Stubborn. Obstinate." The bus hit a bump and Scott hunched over in pain.
"Hey buddy, you alright?" Stiles asked worriedly. "We shouldn't have come. I knew we shouldn't have come."
"We had to," Scott groaned. "There's safety in numbers."
"There's also death in numbers, it's called a massacre," Stiles pointed out, turning his attention to his tablet again. "Bloodbath, carnage, slaughter. Butchery, wow. Alright, Scott, I'm telling Coach."
"No, no, don't," Scott said. "I'm okay."
"You don't look okay," Stiles said. "Can I just see it?"
"I'm okay."
"Just let me see it---oh dude." Stiles tried not to gag when Scott lifted up his shirt but it was just so gross. Long, angry looking scratch marks were carved along Scott's side. The wound was gaping and didn't look to be healing at all.
"I know it looks bad," Scott said. "But it's from an alpha, it'll take longer to heal."
"How come Boyd and Isaac are fine?" Stiles asked.
Scott shrugged, pulling down his shirt and leaning his head against the window again. "I can't believe Derek's dead."
Stiles really wished he'd stop mentioning that. He didn't even know why Scott was taking it so hard. It's not like he and Derek had been BFFs or anything. Though ever since he had gotten the bite Scott had always been that guy who had to save everybody. While Stiles looked at the death of others as some sort of betrayal, Scott viewed it as a personal failure.
Deep line of thought for a school bus ride. Stiles turned his attention back to his tablet and once again resisted the urge to take out his phone.
About another half hour passed and Scott looked worse than before. Stiles chanced a glance down at his stomach and saw that blood was soaking through his shirt. "Scott, you're bleeding again. And don't tell me you're taking slower to heal because I'm pretty sure bleeding means you're not healing at all."
Scott frowned and nodded his head towards Ethan. "He's listening."
Oh man, Stiles hoped he hadn't been listening to when he spent ten minutes telling Scott about how great Choco Tacos were. That'd take away what little intimidation factor he had. "Is he gonna do something?"
"Not in front of this many people," Scott decided.
"What about the two ticking time bombs sitting right near him?" Stiles asked, referring to Isaac and Boyd.
"Nah they won't," Scott said. "Not here."
"What if they do?" Stiles asked. "You gonna stop them?"
"If I have to." Sure enough, a few minutes later Scott started struggling to get up. "Boyd, he's going to do something."
"What, how do you know?" Stiles asked, getting up out of his seat to give Scott room to move.
"Look at his hands."
Stiles looked ahead to where Boyd and Isaac were sitting. Boyd was glaring in Ethan's direction, his hand curled around the bus seat in front of him, his claws out and digging into the seat. Yeah, that was an issue.
Scott made his way up the aisle as best he could, movements jerky due to his injury. Danny and Ethan didn't seem to notice Boyd's attention on them, though Stiles suspected Ethan noticed and was purposely ignoring him. The alpha seemed more concerned with his phone, looking at it expectantly, rather than paying attention to a couple of betas he probably could tear apart even without his twin backing him up.
Stiles watched Scott as he grabbed Boyd's wrist and murmured something to him that he couldn't hear. Whatever it was did the trick and Boyd's hands went back to their human form and he seemed more subdued. As Scott made his way back to their seat, Stiles couldn't help but be a little proud of his best friend when he got into alpha mode.
"Crisis averted?" Stiles asked. At Scott's nod, Stiles moved on to their next problem. "Ethan keeps checking his phone like every five minutes. Like he's waiting for a message of some kind, a signal, something evil, I can tell. I have a very perceptive eye for evil, you know that."
"I don't like him sitting near Danny," Scott said.
"Yeah, neither do I," Stiles said as he pulled out his own phone. "Let's see who he's waiting for."
"What are you doing?"
"I'm gonna ask." Stiles pulled Danny's number out of his contacts and sent a text. Find out why Ethan's checking his phone.
Stiles could hear the beep of Danny's phone as he received the message. There was a moment where Danny read the text and then he turned to look back at Stiles, who gave him a friendly wave and a smile. Danny just shook his head no.
Fine, time for another text to good ol' Danny. Just do it!
To which Danny replied, No.
ASK HIM.
NO. I like this guy. What's wrong with you?
It's important. PLEASE.
Danny stopped replying after that, like he thought being ignored would somehow stop Stiles from getting what he wanted. Poor, innocent Danny. Stiles started frantically texting Danny, not even forming whole sentences, just random letters and the occasional emoticon. The beeping of Danny's phone got so obnoxious that even Ethan turned to give Danny a look as if to ask if he was going to answer his phone.
Finally, Danny said something to Ethan, which caused the both of them to turn around and stare at Stiles and Scott. In a not suspicious move at all, Scott and Stiles ducked into their seat. Stiles rolled his eyes at himself. "That wasn't very subtle."
Stiles' phone beeped a second later, and he opened up the text to find Danny came through. Someone close to him is sick. Might not make it through the night.
"Ennis?" Scott asked.
"So does that mean, uh--"
"He's not dead," Scott said.
Yeah, Stiles suspected as much. No body, not dead. Movies 101. "Not yet, anyway."
Poor Jared. Since Greenberg had the habit of sleeping through all bus rides, he was the new object of Coach's scrutiny. The poor kid was doing his best not to throw up on the bus and Coach was giving him a lecture on how he was a sympathetic puker and if he threw up then Coach was going to throw up right on him.
It didn't help that they were stuck in a massive traffic jam in a hot, sticky bus. Even Stiles felt like throwing up right now. It didn't help that Scott was looking even worse than he had been before. They had to pull over soon, this bus wasn't good for anybody's health.
"The rest of you don't think we're gonna miss this meet because of a slight traffic jam or a tornado warning or Jared," Coach yelled. "We're gonna make this thing, nothing's gonna stop us! Stilinski, put your hand down!"
Stiles did put his hand down, but not before saying, "You know there's like a food exit about a half a mile up, I don't know if we stop and then maybe traffic--"
"We're not gonna stop," Coach interrupted.
"Okay, but if we stop--"
"Stilinski!" Coach blew his whistle obnoxiously. "Shut it! Seriously, it's a little bus, stop asking me questions!"
"I hate him," Stiles said to Scott a little hysterically. "Did you call Deaton?"
"I keep getting his voicemail," Scott murmured, pressing his head against the bus seat and wincing.
Stiles started tapping on his phone again. "Okay, that's it, I'm calling Lydia and Allison."
"How are they gonna help?" Scott asked. "They're back in Beacon Hills."
"They're not, they've been following us for hours," Stiles said, putting the phone up to his ear as Lydia's phone rang. "Pathetic."
"Hey Stiles!" Lydia greeted, sincerity sounding way forced. "Yeah we just walked into a movie, uh, with popcorn."
"I know you guys are right behind us, put Allison on speaker," Stiles ordered. "Okay, look, Scott's still hurt."
"What do you mean hurt?" Allison asked. "He's not healing?"
"No, he's not healing," Stiles said, lifting up Scott's shirt to look at the gross wound again. "I think he's getting worse, the blood's turning a black color."
"What's wrong with him?" Lydia asked.
"What's wrong with him?" Stiles repeated. "Do I look like I have a PHD in lycanthropy, how am I supposed to know that?!"
He could have had more insight if he just texted Derek about what was going on but...no, he was still trying not to bother him. He was stupid, he knew that.
"We need to get him off the bus," Allison said.
"And take him where?" Lydia asked. "A hospital?"
"If he's dying, yeah," Allison answered. "Stiles there's a rest area about a mile up tell the coach to pull over."
Stiles rolled his eyes. "I've been trying!"
"Well reason with him."
"Reason?" Stiles repeated. "Have you met this guy?!"
"Just try something!" Allison said.
Stiles groaned and hung up the phone, looking up to where Coach Finstock was sitting at the front of the bus. He just knew this was going to end badly, but he had to try. Scott was barely even sitting up on his own now.
He got up out of his seat and headed up towards the front. "Coach, it's five minutes for a bathroom break, we've been on this thing for like three hours!"
Instead of answering Stiles like a normal human being, Coach just stood up and whistled in Stiles' face.
Did that stop Stiles from talking? Of course not. "It's 60 miles to the next rest stop--"
Whistle.
"Being cooped up for hours is not good--" Whistle. "--our bladders aren't exactly--" Whistle. "--Coach--" Whistle. "--this is bull--" Whistle. "--if--" Whistle. "--please--" Whistle. "--god--" Whistle. "--LET ME TALK!"
Coach just spit his whistle out of his mouth and started laughing.
Stiles pressed his lips together, doing his best to try to think rationally but he was about at the end of his rope. Scott was sitting a few seats away, dying. "Every time you--"
There was another long whistle followed by, "GET BACK TO YOUR SEAT, STILINSKI!"
Finally Stiles lost it. "OKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!"
Jesus fucking---why couldn't the darach get him? Stiles turned to go back to his seat, not registering Coach yelling at Jared to keep his eyes on the horizon until he was back to his own seat. Then an amazing idea hit him. He turned back around and sat next to Jared. The poor kid was pale and clammy looking, and looked like he was doing his best to not blow chunks all over the bus. It'd probably be so embarrassing for him if it happen.
Oh well, Stiles didn't care.
"Hi, Jared," Stiles said, giving the kid an evil smile. "How you doing?"
Five minutes later the bus came to a screeching halt at a rest stop and kids were piling off the bus to avoid the horrible smell of vomit.
Scott was barely able to walk on his own so Stiles had to practically drag him off the bus by himself. Luckily Allison was there to help carry some of the weight almost as soon as they stepped off the bus. Together they managed to drag him inside the men's room, Lydia trailing after them.
After sitting Scott down on the bathroom floor Allison gently lifted up his shirt, exposing the wound that was steadily oozing black blood now. "Oh god, Scott. Why didn't you tell us?"
"Sorry," Scott mumbled, lolling his head back against the wall. He seemed about two seconds away from losing consciousness.
"Okay, just give us a second," Allison said, stepping away from Scott and pulling Lydia and Stiles to the side. "This shouldn't be happening, I've seen him heal from worse than this."
"Should we call an ambulance?" Stiles asked worriedly. It's not like any of them were equipped to handle this kind of injury.
Allison shook her head. "What if it's too late, what if they can't help?"
"We can't not do something!" Stiles hissed, losing more of his cool by the second.
Lydia chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. "What if it's psychological? A physical illness from a psychogenic cause. It's all in his head."
"All in his head--because of Derek," Stiles said. He had been avoiding thinking about that, but it was the only thing that made sense. "He's not letting himself heal because Derek died."
"What do we do?" Allison asked.
Lydia rifled through her purse for a moment before pulling out a tiny satchel. "Stitch him up. I'm serious, maybe all he needs to do is believe it's healing."
It didn't seem like a really solid plan to Stiles, but it was the only plan they had. Gently they laid Scott down on the floor, pushing his now ruined shirt up and out of the way. Allison had a needle and thread and was crouched down beside Scott. "He's gonna need another shirt, where's his bag?"
"I'll get it. I really don't think I can see this," Stiles said. "Um...do you know what you're doing?"
"My father taught me." Those Argents and their crazy survival skills.
"How fast are you--the bus," Stiles said, not trying to hold Allison up, but this was important. "The bus could leave."
"Just make sure it doesn't leave," Allison said determinedly, unwinding some thread.
Lydia grabbed Stiles' wrist. "Come on, I can help.
People were milling about the rest stop, all of them pointedly avoiding the bus. Stiles noticed Ethan was still focused on his phone while Boyd and Isaac were eyeing him nearby. It was weird, seeing everyone mill about casually while Allison was in the men's bathroom sewing up Scott.
Coach stepped off the bus after what must had been a truly disgusting cleaning endeavor. "Alright, everybody on the bus!"
Lydia looked over at Stiles worriedly. "Do something!"
"Me?" he asked. "I thought you came up here to help!"
Okay, he had to think. Had to keep Finstock's crazy ass from leaving them stranded here. Stiles swirled in a circle before settling his attention on Isaac. That'd work.
"Hey Isaac, man, I need you to do me a favor," Stiles said. "We need to keep the bus from leaving."
"Why?" Isaac asked.
"Because if Finstock leaves now he's going to be leaving Scott behind," Stiles said. "He's in the bathroom, he's hurt--don't freak, Allison's taking care of it."
Isaac grabbed onto Stiles' arm and squeezed hard. "What happened?"
"I thought you knew, man," Stiles said. "He got clawed during the fight last night. He's not healing like he should be."
Turned out that was either the best or worst thing Stiles could say in this situation. Isaac's eyes flashed yellow and he got this distant, unhinged look on his face. He let go of Stiles' arm and immediately launched himself towards Ethan, punching the guy in the face. Ethan dropped to the ground, completely blindsided, and stayed on the ground as Isaac started wailing on him.
Well. That was one way to keep people from getting on the bus.
Allison and Scott emerged from the bathroom, Scott looking much better but still leaning on Allison for support. He stood up a bit straighter when he saw what was going on because, of course, he would have to stop it. "What happened?"
"I don't know man, I just told Isaac what was going on with you and he started attacking Ethan!" Yeah, okay, Stiles had known that was a possibility when he started that conversation.
Scott pulled away from Allison, and approached the commotion. Isaac was still punching Ethan, who was just lying back and taking it for the most part. Danny and Coach were trying their best to stop him, but Isaac seemed almost crazed. Scott pulled his shoulders back and stood up to his full height before screaming Isaac's name.
Almost like being snapped out of a trance, Isaac immediately stopped punching Ethan. He looked up at Scott, the relief evident on his face. Stiles looked over at Scott, eyes wide. He had seen something like that before, when Derek and Isaac were in the police station last year. But Derek had been an alpha and Scott was not.
There was more to this, he was sure of it, but there were other matters at hand. Coach had taken Isaac off to the side to yell at him, while everyone else was making their way back onto the puke-free bus. Soon everybody was aboard and they were off towards the meet. Allison and Lydia had somehow talked their way into getting seats on the bus (Stiles could not believe Allison ditched her car) and Stiles was now seated next to Lydia while Allison was next to Scott.
"I tried talking to Scott about the darach earlier," Stiles told her. "Didn't seem too interested."
Lydia rolled her eyes. "He was probably too busy bleeding out, Stiles."
Stiles nodded. He understood that, he did, but it felt like nobody was taking him seriously on this. Nobody but Lydia and his Derek. The darach had killed way more people than the alpha pack, why wasn't it a priority. Stiles bitterly thought that maybe if one of the werewolves' friends had been the ones sacrificed they'd care a little more.
"You know," Lydia started. "Some ancient cultures sacrifice people in anticipation of battle."
That...made sense. It was too much of a coincidence that the alpha pack and the darach hit Beacon Hills at the same time. "So we've got alpha werewolves versus a dark druid."
Lydia nodded. "Yeah."
Stiles sighed and put his head against the window. No way this was going to end well.
[Taken from Teen Wolf 3x05 "Frayed". NFI, NFB but OOC is fine.]
Clearly Stiles had missed something here.
"Okay, spill." The bus hadn't started moving yet, people on the track team will still hanging outside. If there was a reason for Stiles to escape and go back to Fandom he needed to know now. "I know you're hiding something, Scott."
Scott pressed his lips together, like he was thinking about whether now was the right time to tell the truth or not. "I didn't want to tell you over the phone. I was afraid you wouldn't come."
"Well I'm here now," he said. "So tell me what's up."
"Okay...it's just..." Scott exhaled and looked Stiles in the eye. "Last night we got in a fight with the alpha pack."
"Who's 'we'?"
"Me, Isaac, Boyd, Derek, Cora," Scott said. "All of us versus all of them."
"What, Cora's still hanging around?" Stiles asked. "She joining Derek's pack or something?"
"Uh."
That was not a good noise. That was a "I have something to say and I probably should have said it before" noise. Stiles looked at Scott expectantly.
"I, uh, didn't tell you something about Cora. I just, I thought it would make things between you and Derek--the other Derek--weird and I didn't want to mess it up," he said. "It's uh, Cora--she's..."
Stiles gestured wildly at Scott to finish.
"She's Derek's sister, okay?" Scott said. "Cora's name is Cora Hale. She's his little sister, she survived the fire."
"What? How? Where has she been?" Stiles asked. "Why didn't you tell me before?!"
"Shhh, dude, seriously," Scott hissed. "I told you, I didn't want to make things weird for you. You were like miserable after you and Derek got into the fight about Laura."
Scott...had a point there. And Stiles did understand where he was coming from. But still. Derek's sister being alive was a huge thing. A huge thing he now had to keep from Derek. Great. "So where has she been?"
"Um, I don't know. I assumed she told Derek," Scott said. "I mean, not that's going to help now...Stiles, the fight didn't go well."
"What do you mean it didn't go well?" he asked. "Are you hurt? You're hurt, aren't you? I know the 'Scott in pain' look and you have that look."
"One of them scratched my side, I'll be fine," Scott said, even if he didn't look fine at the moment. "But Derek..."
Stiles frowned. "What about Derek?"
"He fell. He was fighting one of the alphas and he fell a couple stories and landed on his back," Scott said. "He's dead, Stiles, I'm sorry."
Stiles' first reaction was, of course, denial. "Well it's not my Derek, so need to apologize. I mean, yeah, that sucks but...yeah, not him. Are you sure he's dead? Did you guys get the body?"
"Well, no," Scott said. "But I saw him, Stiles, he fell back-first a few stories onto an escalator, he wasn't moving."
"Then how do you know if--" Stiles stopped speaking when he saw Isaac and Boyd get on the bus. They looked to be in better shape than Scott. They took seats near the front of the bus and a few moments later Ethan made his way onto the bus, taking a seat next to Danny.
"Where's Aiden?" Stiles wondered.
Scott shrugged. "He was fine last night. It was Ennis that fell with Derek."
The last few members of the track team settled onto the bus and the engine started to come to life. Scott leaned his head against the window, still looking like he was in pain. Stiles settled down into his seat and resisted the urge to text Derek. He was okay, of course he was okay. No need to worry him.
"Anachronism," Stiles read from his tablet (thanks for the birthday gift, Derek). When he didn't hear an answer he gave Scott a gentle nudge. "Scotty. Yo, Scotty, you still with me?"
Scott nodded, snapping out of whatever he was thinking about. "Yeah, sorry. What was the word again?"
"Anachronism," Stiles repeated, turning to look out the back bus window and---yep, Lydia and Allison were still following them in Allison's car. Sheesh. Stalkers, much?
"Something that exists out of its normal time."
"Nice." Hey, they may have lived in a horror world but Scott had the PSATs to study for and Stiles was going to be taking the actual SATs in the fall and he wanted to get into UMD, dammit. "Next word: incongruous."
"Can you use it in a sentence?" Scott asked.
"Yes, yes I can. It's completely incongruous that we're sitting in a bus right now on our way to some stupid cross country meet after what just happened," Stiles said. "Incongruous."
Scott smirked. "Out of place, ridiculous, absurd."
"Perfect. Okay, next word. Ummmmmm darach." Stiles gave Scott an expectant look, but only received a blank look in return. "Darach. It's a noun."
Stiles groaned at Scott's non-answer. "We have to talk about it sometime, okay? We're gonna be stuck in this thing for like five hours so why not?"
Still no answer. Why was he the only person freaking out about the serial killer who had killed more people than the alphas had? Ugh. "Next word: intransigent."
"Stubborn. Obstinate." The bus hit a bump and Scott hunched over in pain.
"Hey buddy, you alright?" Stiles asked worriedly. "We shouldn't have come. I knew we shouldn't have come."
"We had to," Scott groaned. "There's safety in numbers."
"There's also death in numbers, it's called a massacre," Stiles pointed out, turning his attention to his tablet again. "Bloodbath, carnage, slaughter. Butchery, wow. Alright, Scott, I'm telling Coach."
"No, no, don't," Scott said. "I'm okay."
"You don't look okay," Stiles said. "Can I just see it?"
"I'm okay."
"Just let me see it---oh dude." Stiles tried not to gag when Scott lifted up his shirt but it was just so gross. Long, angry looking scratch marks were carved along Scott's side. The wound was gaping and didn't look to be healing at all.
"I know it looks bad," Scott said. "But it's from an alpha, it'll take longer to heal."
"How come Boyd and Isaac are fine?" Stiles asked.
Scott shrugged, pulling down his shirt and leaning his head against the window again. "I can't believe Derek's dead."
Stiles really wished he'd stop mentioning that. He didn't even know why Scott was taking it so hard. It's not like he and Derek had been BFFs or anything. Though ever since he had gotten the bite Scott had always been that guy who had to save everybody. While Stiles looked at the death of others as some sort of betrayal, Scott viewed it as a personal failure.
Deep line of thought for a school bus ride. Stiles turned his attention back to his tablet and once again resisted the urge to take out his phone.
About another half hour passed and Scott looked worse than before. Stiles chanced a glance down at his stomach and saw that blood was soaking through his shirt. "Scott, you're bleeding again. And don't tell me you're taking slower to heal because I'm pretty sure bleeding means you're not healing at all."
Scott frowned and nodded his head towards Ethan. "He's listening."
Oh man, Stiles hoped he hadn't been listening to when he spent ten minutes telling Scott about how great Choco Tacos were. That'd take away what little intimidation factor he had. "Is he gonna do something?"
"Not in front of this many people," Scott decided.
"What about the two ticking time bombs sitting right near him?" Stiles asked, referring to Isaac and Boyd.
"Nah they won't," Scott said. "Not here."
"What if they do?" Stiles asked. "You gonna stop them?"
"If I have to." Sure enough, a few minutes later Scott started struggling to get up. "Boyd, he's going to do something."
"What, how do you know?" Stiles asked, getting up out of his seat to give Scott room to move.
"Look at his hands."
Stiles looked ahead to where Boyd and Isaac were sitting. Boyd was glaring in Ethan's direction, his hand curled around the bus seat in front of him, his claws out and digging into the seat. Yeah, that was an issue.
Scott made his way up the aisle as best he could, movements jerky due to his injury. Danny and Ethan didn't seem to notice Boyd's attention on them, though Stiles suspected Ethan noticed and was purposely ignoring him. The alpha seemed more concerned with his phone, looking at it expectantly, rather than paying attention to a couple of betas he probably could tear apart even without his twin backing him up.
Stiles watched Scott as he grabbed Boyd's wrist and murmured something to him that he couldn't hear. Whatever it was did the trick and Boyd's hands went back to their human form and he seemed more subdued. As Scott made his way back to their seat, Stiles couldn't help but be a little proud of his best friend when he got into alpha mode.
"Crisis averted?" Stiles asked. At Scott's nod, Stiles moved on to their next problem. "Ethan keeps checking his phone like every five minutes. Like he's waiting for a message of some kind, a signal, something evil, I can tell. I have a very perceptive eye for evil, you know that."
"I don't like him sitting near Danny," Scott said.
"Yeah, neither do I," Stiles said as he pulled out his own phone. "Let's see who he's waiting for."
"What are you doing?"
"I'm gonna ask." Stiles pulled Danny's number out of his contacts and sent a text. Find out why Ethan's checking his phone.
Stiles could hear the beep of Danny's phone as he received the message. There was a moment where Danny read the text and then he turned to look back at Stiles, who gave him a friendly wave and a smile. Danny just shook his head no.
Fine, time for another text to good ol' Danny. Just do it!
To which Danny replied, No.
ASK HIM.
NO. I like this guy. What's wrong with you?
It's important. PLEASE.
Danny stopped replying after that, like he thought being ignored would somehow stop Stiles from getting what he wanted. Poor, innocent Danny. Stiles started frantically texting Danny, not even forming whole sentences, just random letters and the occasional emoticon. The beeping of Danny's phone got so obnoxious that even Ethan turned to give Danny a look as if to ask if he was going to answer his phone.
Finally, Danny said something to Ethan, which caused the both of them to turn around and stare at Stiles and Scott. In a not suspicious move at all, Scott and Stiles ducked into their seat. Stiles rolled his eyes at himself. "That wasn't very subtle."
Stiles' phone beeped a second later, and he opened up the text to find Danny came through. Someone close to him is sick. Might not make it through the night.
"Ennis?" Scott asked.
"So does that mean, uh--"
"He's not dead," Scott said.
Yeah, Stiles suspected as much. No body, not dead. Movies 101. "Not yet, anyway."
Poor Jared. Since Greenberg had the habit of sleeping through all bus rides, he was the new object of Coach's scrutiny. The poor kid was doing his best not to throw up on the bus and Coach was giving him a lecture on how he was a sympathetic puker and if he threw up then Coach was going to throw up right on him.
It didn't help that they were stuck in a massive traffic jam in a hot, sticky bus. Even Stiles felt like throwing up right now. It didn't help that Scott was looking even worse than he had been before. They had to pull over soon, this bus wasn't good for anybody's health.
"The rest of you don't think we're gonna miss this meet because of a slight traffic jam or a tornado warning or Jared," Coach yelled. "We're gonna make this thing, nothing's gonna stop us! Stilinski, put your hand down!"
Stiles did put his hand down, but not before saying, "You know there's like a food exit about a half a mile up, I don't know if we stop and then maybe traffic--"
"We're not gonna stop," Coach interrupted.
"Okay, but if we stop--"
"Stilinski!" Coach blew his whistle obnoxiously. "Shut it! Seriously, it's a little bus, stop asking me questions!"
"I hate him," Stiles said to Scott a little hysterically. "Did you call Deaton?"
"I keep getting his voicemail," Scott murmured, pressing his head against the bus seat and wincing.
Stiles started tapping on his phone again. "Okay, that's it, I'm calling Lydia and Allison."
"How are they gonna help?" Scott asked. "They're back in Beacon Hills."
"They're not, they've been following us for hours," Stiles said, putting the phone up to his ear as Lydia's phone rang. "Pathetic."
"Hey Stiles!" Lydia greeted, sincerity sounding way forced. "Yeah we just walked into a movie, uh, with popcorn."
"I know you guys are right behind us, put Allison on speaker," Stiles ordered. "Okay, look, Scott's still hurt."
"What do you mean hurt?" Allison asked. "He's not healing?"
"No, he's not healing," Stiles said, lifting up Scott's shirt to look at the gross wound again. "I think he's getting worse, the blood's turning a black color."
"What's wrong with him?" Lydia asked.
"What's wrong with him?" Stiles repeated. "Do I look like I have a PHD in lycanthropy, how am I supposed to know that?!"
He could have had more insight if he just texted Derek about what was going on but...no, he was still trying not to bother him. He was stupid, he knew that.
"We need to get him off the bus," Allison said.
"And take him where?" Lydia asked. "A hospital?"
"If he's dying, yeah," Allison answered. "Stiles there's a rest area about a mile up tell the coach to pull over."
Stiles rolled his eyes. "I've been trying!"
"Well reason with him."
"Reason?" Stiles repeated. "Have you met this guy?!"
"Just try something!" Allison said.
Stiles groaned and hung up the phone, looking up to where Coach Finstock was sitting at the front of the bus. He just knew this was going to end badly, but he had to try. Scott was barely even sitting up on his own now.
He got up out of his seat and headed up towards the front. "Coach, it's five minutes for a bathroom break, we've been on this thing for like three hours!"
Instead of answering Stiles like a normal human being, Coach just stood up and whistled in Stiles' face.
Did that stop Stiles from talking? Of course not. "It's 60 miles to the next rest stop--"
Whistle.
"Being cooped up for hours is not good--" Whistle. "--our bladders aren't exactly--" Whistle. "--Coach--" Whistle. "--this is bull--" Whistle. "--if--" Whistle. "--please--" Whistle. "--god--" Whistle. "--LET ME TALK!"
Coach just spit his whistle out of his mouth and started laughing.
Stiles pressed his lips together, doing his best to try to think rationally but he was about at the end of his rope. Scott was sitting a few seats away, dying. "Every time you--"
There was another long whistle followed by, "GET BACK TO YOUR SEAT, STILINSKI!"
Finally Stiles lost it. "OKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!"
Jesus fucking---why couldn't the darach get him? Stiles turned to go back to his seat, not registering Coach yelling at Jared to keep his eyes on the horizon until he was back to his own seat. Then an amazing idea hit him. He turned back around and sat next to Jared. The poor kid was pale and clammy looking, and looked like he was doing his best to not blow chunks all over the bus. It'd probably be so embarrassing for him if it happen.
Oh well, Stiles didn't care.
"Hi, Jared," Stiles said, giving the kid an evil smile. "How you doing?"
Five minutes later the bus came to a screeching halt at a rest stop and kids were piling off the bus to avoid the horrible smell of vomit.
Scott was barely able to walk on his own so Stiles had to practically drag him off the bus by himself. Luckily Allison was there to help carry some of the weight almost as soon as they stepped off the bus. Together they managed to drag him inside the men's room, Lydia trailing after them.
After sitting Scott down on the bathroom floor Allison gently lifted up his shirt, exposing the wound that was steadily oozing black blood now. "Oh god, Scott. Why didn't you tell us?"
"Sorry," Scott mumbled, lolling his head back against the wall. He seemed about two seconds away from losing consciousness.
"Okay, just give us a second," Allison said, stepping away from Scott and pulling Lydia and Stiles to the side. "This shouldn't be happening, I've seen him heal from worse than this."
"Should we call an ambulance?" Stiles asked worriedly. It's not like any of them were equipped to handle this kind of injury.
Allison shook her head. "What if it's too late, what if they can't help?"
"We can't not do something!" Stiles hissed, losing more of his cool by the second.
Lydia chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. "What if it's psychological? A physical illness from a psychogenic cause. It's all in his head."
"All in his head--because of Derek," Stiles said. He had been avoiding thinking about that, but it was the only thing that made sense. "He's not letting himself heal because Derek died."
"What do we do?" Allison asked.
Lydia rifled through her purse for a moment before pulling out a tiny satchel. "Stitch him up. I'm serious, maybe all he needs to do is believe it's healing."
It didn't seem like a really solid plan to Stiles, but it was the only plan they had. Gently they laid Scott down on the floor, pushing his now ruined shirt up and out of the way. Allison had a needle and thread and was crouched down beside Scott. "He's gonna need another shirt, where's his bag?"
"I'll get it. I really don't think I can see this," Stiles said. "Um...do you know what you're doing?"
"My father taught me." Those Argents and their crazy survival skills.
"How fast are you--the bus," Stiles said, not trying to hold Allison up, but this was important. "The bus could leave."
"Just make sure it doesn't leave," Allison said determinedly, unwinding some thread.
Lydia grabbed Stiles' wrist. "Come on, I can help.
People were milling about the rest stop, all of them pointedly avoiding the bus. Stiles noticed Ethan was still focused on his phone while Boyd and Isaac were eyeing him nearby. It was weird, seeing everyone mill about casually while Allison was in the men's bathroom sewing up Scott.
Coach stepped off the bus after what must had been a truly disgusting cleaning endeavor. "Alright, everybody on the bus!"
Lydia looked over at Stiles worriedly. "Do something!"
"Me?" he asked. "I thought you came up here to help!"
Okay, he had to think. Had to keep Finstock's crazy ass from leaving them stranded here. Stiles swirled in a circle before settling his attention on Isaac. That'd work.
"Hey Isaac, man, I need you to do me a favor," Stiles said. "We need to keep the bus from leaving."
"Why?" Isaac asked.
"Because if Finstock leaves now he's going to be leaving Scott behind," Stiles said. "He's in the bathroom, he's hurt--don't freak, Allison's taking care of it."
Isaac grabbed onto Stiles' arm and squeezed hard. "What happened?"
"I thought you knew, man," Stiles said. "He got clawed during the fight last night. He's not healing like he should be."
Turned out that was either the best or worst thing Stiles could say in this situation. Isaac's eyes flashed yellow and he got this distant, unhinged look on his face. He let go of Stiles' arm and immediately launched himself towards Ethan, punching the guy in the face. Ethan dropped to the ground, completely blindsided, and stayed on the ground as Isaac started wailing on him.
Well. That was one way to keep people from getting on the bus.
Allison and Scott emerged from the bathroom, Scott looking much better but still leaning on Allison for support. He stood up a bit straighter when he saw what was going on because, of course, he would have to stop it. "What happened?"
"I don't know man, I just told Isaac what was going on with you and he started attacking Ethan!" Yeah, okay, Stiles had known that was a possibility when he started that conversation.
Scott pulled away from Allison, and approached the commotion. Isaac was still punching Ethan, who was just lying back and taking it for the most part. Danny and Coach were trying their best to stop him, but Isaac seemed almost crazed. Scott pulled his shoulders back and stood up to his full height before screaming Isaac's name.
Almost like being snapped out of a trance, Isaac immediately stopped punching Ethan. He looked up at Scott, the relief evident on his face. Stiles looked over at Scott, eyes wide. He had seen something like that before, when Derek and Isaac were in the police station last year. But Derek had been an alpha and Scott was not.
There was more to this, he was sure of it, but there were other matters at hand. Coach had taken Isaac off to the side to yell at him, while everyone else was making their way back onto the puke-free bus. Soon everybody was aboard and they were off towards the meet. Allison and Lydia had somehow talked their way into getting seats on the bus (Stiles could not believe Allison ditched her car) and Stiles was now seated next to Lydia while Allison was next to Scott.
"I tried talking to Scott about the darach earlier," Stiles told her. "Didn't seem too interested."
Lydia rolled her eyes. "He was probably too busy bleeding out, Stiles."
Stiles nodded. He understood that, he did, but it felt like nobody was taking him seriously on this. Nobody but Lydia and his Derek. The darach had killed way more people than the alpha pack, why wasn't it a priority. Stiles bitterly thought that maybe if one of the werewolves' friends had been the ones sacrificed they'd care a little more.
"You know," Lydia started. "Some ancient cultures sacrifice people in anticipation of battle."
That...made sense. It was too much of a coincidence that the alpha pack and the darach hit Beacon Hills at the same time. "So we've got alpha werewolves versus a dark druid."
Lydia nodded. "Yeah."
Stiles sighed and put his head against the window. No way this was going to end well.
[Taken from Teen Wolf 3x05 "Frayed". NFI, NFB but OOC is fine.]