Chaos Magic (Stiles Stilinski)

But I Don't Regret It

I was lying in bed watching New Girl when I got a phone call from the Sheriff's station. Apparently, my presence was requested ASAP regarding a problem with Jackson Whittemore.

Great.

I quickly showered, given that I had a hundred layers of vomit soaked into my skin. About two hours ago, I finally stopped getting sick and felt slightly better. 

A lot had happened in the past 24 hours that I would rather not think about: We discovered Jackson was actually the Kanima after trying to save Lydia from Derek all day, I got a surprise visit from each of the three stooges, and I got into what felt like a thousand fights with Stiles.

Stiles doesn't understand. None of them do, and that's a hundred percent my fault. But I can't tell any of them, or they'll end up dead. Tate, Alma, and Joey would slowly come for each of them until I was alone.

I had gotten dressed and looked somewhat presentable. I opened the front door but was stopped short when someone stood on the front porch. Matt.

"Matt?" I questioned as I looked him up and down, wondering if this was real. 

He turned around, a smile on his face, "Hey Taylor."

I didn't smile back, "What are you doing here?"

"I need to ask you something," Matt looked over his shoulder.

When I didn't respond, he continued, "You're a gymnast, right?"

I nod my head, "Yeah. Why?"

"Well, I'm putting together a sports section for the yearbook, and I wanted to put some gymnastics pictures in there." He looked over his shoulder again, then back at me as he fidgited with his fingers. "I was wondering when your guys' next meet was?" 

"We actually aren't in session right now." I watched Matt as he looked over his other shoulder.

"When will you be back in season?" He asked, trying to look around me.

"Not till December. Sorry Matt, I really have to go." I reached beside me and shut the lights off. Matt nodded, backing up to give me room as I shut and locked the door.

I turned around and noticed how nervous he looked. Matt bounced his foot, glanced over his shoulder, and fidgeted with his fingers. "Is everything okay?" I asked him.

His head shot up, "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine. I'll see you tomorrow, Taylor." He smiled before running off the porch and back to his car.

I walked to my car and tried to shake off whatever that interaction was. The weird thing wasn't how nervous Matt was; he knew where I lived. I've never told him that.

I rushed into the station, already knowing I was late. An officer directed me back to an interrogation room, opened the door, and saw Stiles and Scott sitting at the table. They both turned to look at me wide-eyed.

I took the empty chair between the boys as the officer shut the door.

"This isn't going to be good, is it?" I whispered to Scott. He shook his head as the door opened behind us. 

I looked over my shoulder and saw Stilinski walk in with a clipboard. He sighed, sanding adjacent to us, "You will not go within fifty feet of Jackson Whittemore. You will not speak to him. You will not approach him. You will not assault or harass him physically or psychologically." 

Stilinski looked over at the doorway. We all turned our heads and saw Jackson's dad and Melissa. Jackson's dad looked satisfied, while Melissa looked weary.

"What about school?" Stiles asked. I turned my attention back to the conversation about our apparent restraining order.

"You can attend classes while maintaining a fifty-foot distance," Stilinski clarified.