Chapter Text
Stiles gripped the metal rod tightly with all the strength his body had. The gurgling sound of the beast over him became weaker and weaker so he pressed the metal rod into its chest deeper. Somewhere he could hear growls and flesh being ripped open but he was trying to keep his own from meeting the same fate. Suddenly the large bloodthirsty dog went limp so Stiles pushed it off himself with the metal rod still stuck in its chest where its heart should be. He rolled over with gasps and large intakes of air.
He crawled over to the concrete wall with his hands covered in blood, his head was throbbing. He leaned back against the cool surface but suddenly another one of the large dogs was thrown through the wall to hit and drag the one Stiles had killed . Another body jumped through the gap of the wall and hit the large dog with a loud smack. Derek tore the head off the beast quickly then dropped it over to the side. Stile's hands had flung into his sweater now dark with the blood of the dog. He gripped the gun there hard but relaxed when he saw it was only Derek.
The growl startled him and he took out the gun quickly, Derek turned and braced himself for the mutant beast running at him but Stiles shot it with fury. It was enough to distract it so Derek could smash into it and sink his fangs into its neck, he tore a large chunk off. He twisted its neck disgustingly, it fell to the hard ground motionless. "You're welcome." Stiles smiled, Derek let out a sigh. "Next time, don't follow me. You could have died Stiles!" Stiles just rolled his eyes.
"If it wasn't for me you would have had to kill two more then you did." Derek just walked over to him to help him up.
"You only killed one and that was just luck, what would happen to your dad if that thing had ripped your face off!?" Stiles cringed at the words. "Well I didn't die." Derek is about to argue more but Scott's harsh breaths distracts them. He appears around one of the walls in the abandoned warehouse. "Guys! they're over here!" and soon more foots steps are heard. Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Jackson, Lydia, and Allison appeard. All their faces show relief when their eyes land on Stiles. "See, you guys would of left me alone at home and I would of missed all of this." Stiles shakes his finger at his friends. "You could have died!" Scott exclaims as he walks quickly over to them.
"I get it, don't you think I figured that out when I had a large dog snapping its teeth over me a couple minutes ago! What were those things anyway?"
Allisson speaks up then, "Hellhounds, scary huh?" Stiles gives her a plain look. "No, they were the most adorable puppies I have ever seen." He stand up with a shake to his knees and dusts himself off. "Why did we even need to kill them?"
"So they could stop attacking people from Beacon Hills, we don't want the Argents thinking we did any of those killings." Derek runs his eyes down Stiles's body making sure nothing was bleeding.
"And not shine more attention to the town to." Allison adds, Scott takes her hand softly and she relaxes.
"Alright, it's done. let's go; I need to rest. Tomorrow's Monday and I need some sleep." Lydia is already draggin Jackson out of the warehouse, Jackson just waves as he's being pulled.
"Us to, we'll meet you home Derek" Boyd says, he follows Isaac and Erica out as well. Allison is waiting on Scott who's waitng on Stiles. "I can drive myself home you know." Stiles says annoyed. "NO." Derek shoves his hands into Stiles's pockets and pulls out the keys to his jeep. "Here Scott, you drive him home. I don't trust him." Stiles just glares at Derek. Allison pecks Scott on the cheek then whisperes something in his ear that makes Scott drag Stiles outside. "Hurry up Stiles, you're dad must be worried."
"Oh yea, thank you for being so thoughtful." It's not fair his best friend gets After Battle Sex and Stiles just gets a lecture about being reckless.
He gets dropped off at his house and Scott waits until Stiles steps inside his home then he turns around and runs on all fours to Allison's. Stiles locks the front door then turns around to examine his living room. His dad's crusier hadn't been in the driveway. He was probably trying to solve the two deaths they recently had in town caused by the hellhounds.
He slumps as he walks up the stairs to his room. He begins to strip to his underwear then grabs a towl. He goes to the laundry room to dump off his blood stained cloths then slips off his underwear to throw it in there also. He hopes his red sweater doesn't get stained, does hellhound blood stain badly? He hopes not. The hot water feels relaxing and after he's done scrubbing he lingers in it for a while. Eventually it runs cold and he shuts it off. His short hair is dried quickly and his skin is flushed from the heat of the water as he walks into his room still a little wet. He looks into the full body mirror and drops the towel. His pale complexion reveals the bruises on his side. "Those will be bad tomorrow for sure." he says annoyed.
When he's done finding all the possible brusing, he puts on some underwear and pajamas. He turns off the lights then throws himself on his bed. Outside there's a low rumble and he sees soundless lightning burn the sky. "Shit, I hate the cold." No wonder he wore so many layers of cloths and tomorrow it would be cold from the rainfall or there'd be snow. Winter, ugh. He shuts his eyes, he really is tired. That hellhound had put up a deadly fight, Derek was right; he had been lucky.
As he drifts into sleep he still hears the sharp snap of teeth and hellish growls from the dog when it was over him. He shivers but a warmth hugs him from behind. It covers his whole back and it spreads throughout his whole body. The warmth crawls over his cold hands and they begin to feel toasty, it incircles him snugly like a blanket ; he snugles back into it and he must have imangined the satisfied grunt that wasn't his. He sleeps well that night, very well.
In the morning he's already late for school so he's eating while packing his backpack in a rush. "Where's my calculator, where!" his eyes examine the mess he calls a room until he spots it under the bed. He gets it quickly to then shove it into his messy backpack, he tottally needs an intervention with his organization. Maybe Allisson can help, she'll be nice about it. Lydia will just stare him down.
Stiles ziped up the backpack, he grabs the keys to his baby from the bed but stops when he notices something that is not his. Stiles's hair is light not black, he doesn't even HAVE any hair that long and black. He squints at the single hair on the side of the bed he doesn't sleep on. He kneels over to pick it up and examine it under the light of the sun, it goes golden brown. Being raised by a cop has its advantages, he notices more then people think. A lot more. His warning alarm goes off, his eyes flash to the alarm clock. "oh shit!" he drops the mystery hair and runs out of his room.
"Stiles, please, please, please." Scott is giving him that kicked puppy look that Stiles is really hating at the moment. Allisson just shrugs at Stiles leaving him to deal with Scott. "If I say yes, will you promise me to never do that face again?" "No." Scott says plainly.
"But I can promise you I'll stop making it at the moment."
"See, I knew you did that face on purpose! Fine, I'll tutor you. Come over to my house later..." But he doesn't finish because Scott looks embaressed and a little sorry.
"What?" Stiles asks, "I sorta had plans already. Allisson and I were going to the movies later." Allisson decides to join the coversation then. "No, not anymore. Lydia is coming over to my house. We're also doing some tutoring." Which was a total lie, Lydia was a genious and Allisson wasn't far behind. "Mhm." Stiles grunts around a mouthful of curly fries. Scott grunts, "What time?" he asks. "Right after school of course." Stiles stops talking which surprises them all but he doesn't care. He's enjoying his curly fries right now and he won't let a single soul interupt him while he's doing so.
Later Stiles is trying ot teach Scott about factoring trinomials but Scott just gives him deadpan "I don't get it". Stiles won't lie, he isn't such a big fan of algebra but he's glad he got over it last year as a sophmore. Now he was dealing with calculus and sadly it was even worse. "Scott, buddy, dear boy, are you being serious?" Stiles asks the love struck werewolf. "Yes Stiles! We're just starting the year and I already have an F! I do want to graduate with you and all my friends you know."
Stiles just sighs and rolls his shoulders. "I am going to tutor the shit out of you and you know why?" Scott shakes his head. "Becasue I love you and I don't want you to stay behind while we all move forward." Scott makes a sentimental face and smiles. "I love you to!" Sometimes Stiles wonders what would happen to his bestfriend if Stiles would just disappear. He dismisses the idea and continues to explain to Scott exactly how to factor these pain in the asses.