"So much for that track meet."
Scott couldn't help but laugh at Stiles' bitterness towards Coach Finnstock.
"I mean, the guy was going to make us fucking run through puddles and lighting and shit. What makes him qualified to be around... people!" Stiles said vehemently, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Scott knew he was never a fan of Coach, but the underlying tone of voice was something to be questioned. This little outburst was not about him.
Isaac set his chin on the back of Scott's seat, glancing up at him. They hadn't exactly had the chance to talk about Isaac's little stunt at the rest stop, but Scott wasn't mad. How could he be? Certain aspects of the situation did make him wonder though. It seemed strange to Scott that he was the only one able to pull him out of the depths when he was so far down. Not even a frantic Danny could stop him from beating the life out of Ethan.
"Look, I'm tired. I'm sure you're tired. This will probably seem like nothing in the morning." Scott said drowsily, returning Isaac's glance as he addressed his best friend. He could tell it wasn't exactly the right thing to say. Stiles jaw was set and his eyes trained on the road. And the most unnerving thing was that he was absolutely silent. This was not a Stiles trait.
Isaac sighed a bit reluctantly as if he were afraid to make any noise in the tense interior of the Jeep. He looked like a dog that had been caught digging up his owner's petunias.
"I don't hear you giving a motivational speech to Muhammad Ali over there." Stiles said flatly. Isaac glared at him.
"I was giving you a distraction." Isaac said tersely, gripping the side of Scott's chair. "Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Oh so your idea of a distraction is telling Isaac to beat the hell out of an alpha?" Scott asked. He didn't sound angry. In fact, he was a bit perplexed. Scott was a bit oblivious sometimes. Stiles looked at him quickly to see if he was joking.
"I didn't tell him to do anything. That was his idea. And, you know what, I didn't think he was going to go ape shit." Stiles said in his defense. But something in his voice said that he knew full well that Isaac would indeed go ape shit. Isaac stayed silent.
"What did you tell him?" Scott asked.
"What did I tell him? Well, I told him we need a distraction. I told him why you were hurt. I told him why you weren't healing because-" Stiles stopped short as if he had choked. "You know, if that fucking sour wolf hadn't gotten himself killed..." He continued, his voice quaking.
"Stiles..." Scott said softly, feeling his heart lurch. He hadn't even noticed that Stiles had been impacted by Derek's death so much. It never occurred to him to ask. He suddenly felt a wave of fresh guilt.
It had started to rain and the stars were gone. Stiles couldn't even bring himself to turn on the windshield wipers as the rain started coming down even faster and heavier. His grip was slack and he was staring ahead, a dead look in his eyes.
"Stiles, I'm just going to turn these on..." Scott started, reaching for the switch.
"Don't." Stiles said.
"What? You can't see. C'mon this is ridiculous-" Scott reasoned, but it didn't last for long.
"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH IT." Stiles shouted, swerving to the side of the road. Isaac grabbed onto Scott to stop him from slamming into the Jeep's door. They halted just as quickly and Stiles parked it.
"What the hell was that about! You could have killed someone!" Isaac shouted. It struck Scott as strange because: a) Isaac usually didn't find the consequences in rash actions, b) Stiles' little stunt wasn't anything beyond jarring and slightly unexpected, and c) Well... Scott really couldn't think of another reason because his head was still spinning.
