QOTD: Favorite of the original six? (Scott, Allison, Stiles, Derek, Lydia, and Jackson)
AOTD: Lydia Martin
I am going to kill him.
From the second Stiles Stilinski stepped into your life, he seemed determined to do everything he could to screw it up. He was always tagging along with you on dangerous expeditions, and always doing something to put someone in danger. He was incompetent, and you hated him.
"I'll rip your throat out," you said, sitting in the front of his Jeep. You weren't sure if he heard you, or even if the words had left your mouth.
He let his eyes drift off the road and onto you, pushing his foot down harder on the accelerator. "Jeez, that's a lot of blood in my Jeep."
You leaned in closer to him, "...yank your beating heart out of your chest and feed it to you..."
You passed out for a couple minutes, falling back against the seat. Stiles was rambling on, so your brief slumber gave you some much needed peace and quiet.
When you woke up, you were on an exam table in the animal clinic. Stiles was there... Deaton was there... Scott was there.
Stiles was immediately to your right. You grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards you. "I will slaughter you, and any Stilinski I come across during my time on this planet."
"Glad to see she's not angry," Stiles choked out as Scott pulled your hand away from his neck.
"What happened out there?" Scott asked as Deaton worked on patching you up. Your healing hadn't kicked in yet.
"Well," Stiles said. "There were a few, uh, complications with the plan."
"Your idiot friend shot me," you groaned.
"Stiles!" Scott said.
"It was an accident!" Stiles said. "The guy from the prison, the one that escaped, I thought he would be there. So I texted you, and you didn't answer. So I texted [Y/N], and she said she would check it out without me."
"But this idiotic, impulsive attempted murderer thinks it's a good idea for him to go too. So he shows up-"
"Looks around, checks the place out," Stiles contributed. "And then I heard something. So I turn around, and I-"
"He shoots me. He doesn't even make sure it's the prisoner. He just turns around, and shoots me in the abdomen."
"The bullet went through slightly below the abdomen, actually," Deaton said, pulling the last fragment out.
You grunted, still waiting to heal.
"Stiles, where did you even get a gun?" Scott asked.
"Well, I borrowed it, uh, from my dad. I...I-I stole it from my dad's office."
"So I'm thinking of an eye for an eye," you said. "Stiles shoots me, I claw his organs out."
Stiles took a step back, and Scott pushed him forwards. "No one is clawing any organs out," Scott said. "So Deaton and I are going to handle this like civil people, and take ourselves out of the equation, and trust that when we step back in, everyone will still be alive."
"What? No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Scott, no. Don't leave me alone with her. She's gonna kill me. Deaton, please. Please don't go," Stiles begged, watching the pair step outside.
"I can already feel your liver underneath my fingernails," you mumbled, sitting up.
"It was an accident," Stiles said quickly.
"This won't be," you let your feet find their way to the floor, took a step towards him, and fell on your face.
"Oh, jeez," Stiles bent down. "Are you okay."
"I'm fine. I just got shot in the abdomen, that's all."
"Slightly below, according to Deaton," Stiles said, helping you up.
"I'm going to heal," you breathed out. "And then I'm going to gut you like a fish."
"All while keeping in mind that it was an accident."
"Stiles, it's one accident after the other with you. When you're not shooting me, you're stabbing me."
"I've never actually stabbed you."
"What I mean is that you're always there. I'm handling the situation, and then I turn around, and you're there to screw everything up. Why are you always one step away?"
"I'm helping you!"
"You shot me!"
"That was one time!"
"That was twenty minutes ago!"
"Like I said, I was trying to help," Stiles whined.
"I don't need your help."
"I know that," he said. "But it's just that... You know what? Nevermind."
"What? It's what, Stiles?"
He paused, staring straight at you, as if you would disappear if he looked away. And then he finally opened his mouth, like it had been closed forever and he had been guarding some sort of secret that was tearing him up on the inside.
"I worry, okay," he said softly. "I worry about you."
You were at a loss for words. You had gotten more affection from Stiles in four words than you had in the four years that you'd know him. Time after time, you had sent him home, and you had rejected him. You said you didn't need him. But now? Now finding out that he needed you?
"Stiles," you held his wrists in your hands. "You shot me today, and then you saved my life, so I'm going to kiss you now if that's alright."
He nodded his head, and spoke quietly. "Yeah, that's alright by me."
You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he snaked his hands around your waist. You moved your head closer to him. Closer, closer. As tightly together as possible. Your foreheads were touching, and you could feel his breath on your breath. His lips on your lips. The thought of killing him seemed so far away.
