Dissipate - Stiles Stilinski

Chapter Twenty One

A/N - Don't forget to comment anything you think I might need to work on in this story. All advice is welcome. Thank you again for reading.

Scott doesn't know Peter's in the room, as he looks as Derek with relief. Scott has a towel wrapped around his waist, obviously the game has just finished, but the locker room is empty.

"Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea what's been going on?" Scott shouts at Derek and Peter slowly comes out of the shadows, holding Scott's lacrosse stick.

"I really don't get Lacrosse." Peter smirks an evil looking smirk.

"It was you..." Realisation crosses Scott's face.

"When I was in high school, we played basketball. That was a real sport. Still, I read somewhere that Lacrosse comes from Native American tribes and that they played it to resolve conflict. I have a little conflict of my own to resolve, Scott. But I need your help to do it." After all the failed attempts to get Scott on his side he's still trying.

"I'm not helping you kill people." Scott shouts once again. I seriously wonder how he doesn't lose his voice from all the shouting he does.

"Well, I don't want to kill all of them. Just the responsible ones." That's still killing people, idiot. "And that doesn't have to include..." Peter looks at Derek, waiting for him to finish.

"Allison." Derek says in monotone.

"You're on his side?" Scott asks. Derek's on his side? When and how did that happen? Last time I saw he was basically punching the living day lights out of Peter. "Are you forgetting the part where he killed your sister?"

"It was a mistake. It happens." I roll my eyes and advance forward to slap Derek on the back of his head, but my hand, however, mists through, making no contact. 'Damn', I mutter and nobody hears. How do I control this thing? I sigh and back off from Derek, not wanting to be near him right now.

"Scott." Peter starts. "I think you're getting the wrong impression of us." I roll my eyes. 'No he's not.' I sass, nobody even noticing. "We really just want to help you reach your full potential."

"By killing my friends?"

"Sometimes the people closest to you could be the ones holding you back the most."

"If they're holding me back from becoming a psychotic nut job like you, I'm okay with that." Yeah, that's my best friend. I grin at him, not able to stop the proud feeling spreading through my chest. Peter steps forward slowly towards Scott.

"Maybe you could try seeing things from my perspective." Peter brings out his claws and quickly stabs them in the back of Scott's neck, making him fall to the floor and start twitching like he's having a nightmare. Seeing things from his perspective... He's seeing Peter's memories.

A hot rage settles within me and, without thinking, I rush towards Peter and push him roughly against the locker, denting it. Super strength. Nice. I call that a success. And I just made contact, another success!

"What the hell was that?" Derek asks, helping his uncle back up onto his feet, looking slightly reluctant to do so.

"I have no idea, but it felt like someone just pushed me."

"How? There's no one else here." Yes there is, bitches. You just can't see me.

"Let's get out of here." Peter and Derek walk out of the locker room and I suddenly feel the world move around me. I close my eyes to stop myself from getting too dizzy, and when I open them I'm back in Stiles' Jeep.