Chasing the Moon (A Stiles Stilinski/Teen Wolf FanFiction) [1]

Chapter 5 - Trust Me

Even if he didn't trust my intentions, he believed what I was telling him. And that's the most important thing. My knowledge could very well save his life. 

A few moments later Stiles was rushing over to us. "Let's go," he said, not even looking either of us in the eye. Scott and I glanced at each other but shrugged and got in the jeep. Once again my above average height was scrunched into the back seat. 

Stiles anxiously tapped the steering wheel as he drove. He was getting more and more antsy by the second. I could see his ADHD kicking in. But that wasn't all, something else was bothering him. 

"Are you alright, man?" Scott asked .

Stiles hit his hand against the wheel a few times before answering. He looked at me through the rear view mirror. "Do you know anything about wolfsbane being used for burials?"

He question caught me off guard. I stuttered for a moment, racking my thoughts. "Not off the top of my head but...but my mom might have something back at her office."

Stiles groaned. "Maybe it's like a ritual or something. They want to bury you as a wolf."

It wasn't that far-fetched of a theory. Although, I'm very familiar with werewolf burials, and I know that being buried as a wolf isn't a routine thing. "No, werewolves prefer proper burials. It's the only way to ensure their redemption. I mean, they don't have normal human funerals, but they don't want to be tossed in some unmarked pit either. Derek buried her like that to hide something."

"Which leaves us with the question..." started Stiles.

"What the hell is he hiding...?" I finished. 

Suddenly Scott began shifting in his seat. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists. "Scotty, you okay?"

"No!" he yelled. His fidgeting increased.

"Scott?" I asked, my voice soft.

"No, I can't breathe!" Without warning he punched the roof of the jeep.

"Woah, woah, woah," said Stiles, his eyes widening. Accidentally spinning the wheel he veered off of the road for a moment. His over-correction flung me around in the back, causing me to smack my head against the interior. 

"Ow," I squealed, pressing my hand to my shortly termed concussed head. "Nice driving,"

"Sorry," muttered Stiles. "Oh my god," He was looking at me through the mirror. He turned around, a panic in his eyes. "Your head, it's bleeding."

I pulled my hand down to see that it was, in fact, covered in scarlet blood. I grabbed a t-shirt from the floor and pressed it against my forehead. Could I seriously just not get hurt in front of people? I didn't need any more questioning.

"I'm fine," I said.

Stiles was about to protest when Scott broke him off with a slight growl. "Pull over,"

"Why? What's happening?" asked Stiles anxiously.

Scott didn't answer. Instead he pulled Stiles' bag into his lap and began rummaging through it. Then he pulled it out, flower, rope, and all. My jaw dropped at the sight of the wolfsbane.

"You kept it?" asked Scott angrily.

"What was I supposed to do with it?" objected Stiles. I couldn't believe him.

"STOP THE CAR!" yelled Scott.

Stiles slammed on the brakes at once, causing us all to fly forward. I nearly flung all the way into the front seat thanks to my lack of a seat belt. Stiles scrambled out of the jeep, backpack in his arms. He heaved and threw it into the trees with all his might.