Haunted

Chapter 8: Care

The loud thumping music of the party was just as audible from the front of the house and it was doing Clark's head in. He was kicking himself - not literally, but mentally he was kicking himself a lot - unable to understand how he'd managed to get so distracted from Scott. Could he put it down to whatever was happening to him with Cora? Or was it Danny? There had certainly been something wrong with him then. He never cared what anyone thought about him. Thoughts can't hurt. But he had cared then, with Danny. He had cared about people seeing him dancing initially and he had cared about Danny thinking he couldn't be fun. He kicked a stone on the ground in frustration, watching without a care - no care - as it hit a nearby car, leaving a small indent behind as it dropped to the ground.

"What the hell is going on with me." He growled in a low mutter to himself. He blamed Beacon Hills. It was hard to believe that his life had been somewhat normal before returning. It was hard to believe that it had been less than a week. "No. Scott. This is about Scott," he muttered to remind himself.

Not that he knew where Scott was.

Or Stiles, for that matter.

Or Derek.

Or Allison.

He glanced back at the house, Allison hadn't been in the garden but she could have been inside. She could still be at the party, safe and well. There was also the more likely option that she wasn't there. Maybe she was safe with Derek or maybe she was still with Scott, far from safe.

Clark kicked another stone.

The speculation was doing his head in. He needed to do something. Anything. But with no idea where anyone was, who was with who, or what they were doing, he had nowhere to go.

His phone pinged.

Clark swore he had never moved so fast in his life. His phone was out of his pocket and in his hand in front of his face within seconds. An update from Derek:

Dropped Allison home. Going to lure Scott out to woods.

Clark breathed a sigh of relief. Allison was safe at home and not getting mauled to death by a werewolf to spark Argent to go on a murderous rampage of revenge. With Allison out the picture and knowing what Derek was doing, it allowed Clark to focus on Scott and Stiles. With Scott taking his car, it suggested to Clark that the guy hadn't fully succumbed to his blood-hungry werewolf nature at the time of leaving the party. He must have been feeling some effects to ditch Allison and provide Derek the opportunity to take her home.

Home.

A safe space.

And the one place you long to be when you're not feeling right.

Scott went home. Clark was certain of it.

Clark started running.

--TW:H--

Clark made it to Scott's house in record time. Record time for normal humans, at least. He wasn't a normal human, however. If his werewolf side wasn't proof enough of that, his ability to see ghosts - or one ghost for the time-being at least - sure had to be enough proof.

The first thing he spotted upon reaching Scott's house was Stiles' jeep parked outside.

The second thing he spotted was Stiles stood next to the jeep and promptly grabbing a baseball bat from inside upon locking eyes with Clark.

Clark scoffed, allowing himself a small shake of his head as he approached Stiles. Why he thought a baseball bat would be a suitable form of protection against werewolf Scott, Clark didn't understand. "You think that's going to stop Scott?" Clark questioned him, doing his best to hide the amusement in his voice.