Unspoken ▹ Teen Wolf [01]

042.

Things were getting progressively worse.

So far, in the short run of fifteen minutes, Stiles had gotten tackled multiple times, hit in the face twice, and practically thrown by a member of the opposing team who was more than likely overdosing on steroids. It almost inflicted physical pain on Rachel to even watch the train wreck play out; but oddly, she couldn't look away. At first, it'd had a rather comical effect to it; but by the fifth time Stiles hit the ground, the humour was fading fast (and by the look of his dazed expression for a few moments following the impact, so was Stiles).

"Sit down, McCall." Coach snapped at Scott, finally getting Rachel's attention off of Stiles. She hadn't realized Scott had attempted to get onto the field; if she had've, chances are, she would've been distracting Finstock with one of her many Pretty Little Liars rants in order to buy the teen wolf a little more time to blend into the crowd of players.

"But Coach, we're dying out there." Scott argued back, to no avail. Something told Rachel that Coach would rather lose 97-0 before putting Scott into the game when Gerard strictly stated that he was on academic suspension.

"Oh, I'm aware of that." Coach stated obviously. "Now sit."

Scott huffed in annoyance, falling back onto the bench beside Rachel. Sure, it was bad that they were losing the lacrosse game, but little to the knowledge of Coach, they were losing a lot more than just that. Lives were quite literally at stake, and having Scott on the field was probably one of the only ways to minimize the damages; even if he was rather useless against the Kanima's paralysis. It killed her to admit, but for the first & (definitely) only time in her life, Rachel was almost wishing she was a part of the team- even if the paralytic venom burned her like acid, she could handle a little pain if it meant still being able to fight.

"Scott?" Rachel questioned, already well aware she was overthinking the situation. They still had thirty minutes- and while it wasn't the usual days' time they had to plan, it was enough to slow down & breathe for a few minutes. "Look- I know it sucks, losing the championship game. None of this should've ever happened, and I know I don't say this a lot, but I'm sorry."

"I know." Scott muttered quietly, more meaning than she'd likely ever know of hidden behind those two words.

"We-we just need to find a way to get you on the field. Just to keep things from getting any worse while I try to think of something." the brunette sighed, running a hand through her hair. She was at a loss for ideas, and as the seconds continued ticking down, setting off a molotov cocktail behind the stands was starting to look more & more appealing. It'd get the crowd running- it'd get the fire department here, and most importantly, it would hopefully serve a chance of distracting Gerard long enough to prevent him from making Jackson kill someone. "Any ideas of how we're supposed to do that?"

Scott remained silent for a moment, unsure of what to say until his gaze slowly shifted to something beside Rachel. "Possibly."

Rachel didn't even need to turn around to know who was standing beside her- she could smell the mix of werewolf, warehouse & insecurities hidden behind a fragile wall of fake overconfidence. It was Isaac, the one & only person she'd been hoping not to see (even more so than Gerard, who was there to murder people) for at least a week. She didn't even have time to overthink what to say yet, let alone come to terms with exactly how screwed up every part of her life had now become.

"You came to help?" Scott asked, a small smile on his face. Up until now, he was certain Isaac was miles away with Erica & Boyd, in search of a new pack that wouldn't use them as soldiers in a battle against hunters.

"I came to win." Isaac clarified, taking a seat on the bench on the other side of Scott. "You got a plan?"

"No, right now it's just keep Jackson from killing anyone."