The Bad Guy ✔

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Chapter 25

I can barely remember anything about it anymore. It all seems like a dream. A nightmare. A distant memory. Maybe I've pushed it away now. Locked it in the darkest part of my mind. I hope I did.

I hope it never happened...

I don't even remember how I got here. Literally. I can barely remember getting a ride from Deaton to the police station to retrieve my bike. I can't even remember what we talked about. If we talked about anything.

But nonetheless, here I stand in front of the loft. I open the doors to be greeted by a pacing Peter. He turns his head towards me so fast I'm surprised he didn't get whiplash.

"Well?" He asks impatiently, moving towards me.

"Well, what?" I ask putting my helmet onto the small table and plopping onto the couch.

"Did you find out?"

"Find out what?"I ask getting more annoyed by his presence.

"About the weather," He says sarcastically. "What do you think?" He gives an exasperated sigh when I don't reply. "My child, remember that? Did you get hit over the head?" He mutters the last part to himself, continuing to pace. I close my eyes as I remember what happened before everything went downhill.

"I almost got blown up if that counts," I reply, plopping my feet onto the coffee table. His attention snaps to me with an unknown emotion in his eyes.

"What happened? Or let me guess-" He says with a knowing look on his face" -the nogistune."

"Bingo," I say with feigned enthusiasm.

"So what did our lovely Stiles do this time?" He says with sarcasm, swiftly knocking my feet off the coffee table. I roll my eyes but precede to tell him the events making sure to leave out certain details that took place at the animal clinic. And by certain details, I mean any details pertaining to me turning into a monster and almost killing Kira.

"-and that's when I left." I finish letting out a breath. I don't know why I told him to be honest. Maybe it's because now I know what it's like to be the bad guy. Maybe Peter will be the only person who will actually talk to me from now on.

The thought gives me chills.

"And then..." He pushes.

"T-that's the end." I stutter looking at my hands. "I came here."

"Who gave you a lift to your bike?" He presses further with a hint of a smirk on his face.

"Deaton," I answer simply, feeling edgy all of a sudden.

"What about Scott?" Hearing his name causes my stomach to twist into knots. "Being the virtuous man he is, he would definitely wait for you to wake up and would insist and taking you back."

"He was.. busy," I say fidgeting with my fingers.

"Never too busy for you." He says taking a seat next to me. "What did he do?" A knowing look appears on his face. "Or what did you do?" I stand up and run my hand through my hair.

"I like how you're focusing on this and not the fact that Derek almost got blown up and was arrested," I say trying to change the topic.

"He'll be fine. It's his fault anyway." He looks to me," He could've left whenever he wanted to. Stop trying to change the subject." He finishes in one breath.

"What do you want me to say?" I say louder than I expected. He stands up from his seat and walks towards me.

"I want you to tell me the truth." He says matching my volume. "What did you do?" I turn away from him, not wanting to meet his eyes. He let out a huff of annoyance. "As you know I'm also a werewolf, maybe not back to my full powers but a werewolf nonetheless. You know what that means." He pauses for a moment. "It means I can hear your heartbeat and right now its beating through the roof. I can also smell the fear." I hear him take a step closer. "You obviously did something so bad you won't even tell me. A so-called homicidal werewolf. So tell me... what did you do?"

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