Brother || Teen Wolf

Chapter 10 - Renounce

Finally, the bushy haired teen made his entrance. He jogged to the field, joining the line of attacking player and waiting for his turn. Jackson was glaring at him, but he barely seemed to notice. His mind was still elsewhere, he looked like he was in a trance. When his turn to try and score a goal came, he shook his head and started running unsteadily, the ball in his net. Jackson's grin widened as he slammed into Scott. The werewolf crumbled to the ground, brutally landing on his back.

"Sure you still wanna be first line, McCall?" Jackson teased.

Coach approached Scott as he was getting back on his feet.

"McCall! What was that?" the man said, chuckling, "My Grandmother can move faster than that. And she's dead. Do you think you can move faster than the lifeless corpse of my dead Grandmother, McCall?"

"Yes, Coach," Scott answered, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

"I didn't hear you," Coach stated. He expected a little more determination from Scott, after all the teen had shown promise.

"Yes, Coach!" Scott repeated, this time much louder.

"Then do it again," Coach growled in the teen's ear before yelling, "McCall's gonna do it again!"

The players got ready. Jackson secured his lacrosse stick firmly in his hands and kept his eyes on McCall. He frowned, noticing something different. Scott had his head down, so the other players could not see his face. He was hiding behind his helmet, rage building up inside of him. Jackson and Coach had angered him, to the point that he was shifting. When the whistle blew, Scott started running. He was much faster this time, almost charging at Jackson. He didn't even try to avoid the team captain. He just rammed into Jackson, sending him flying backwards and landing on his shoulder with a sickening noise. Jackson stayed down, holding his shoulder and grunting in pain, while Scott fell to his knees. Stiles focused on his friend and understood what was happening; Scott was losing control. Stiles rushed to his friend while Coach and a few players rushed to Jackson's side. While everybody gathered around the injured team captain, Stiles quickly grabbed Scott by the arm and led him away from the field. They rushed to the locker room as fast as they could while trying to stay unnoticed.

"Scott? Scott, are you okay?" Stiles breathed, crouching down to Scott's level. The werewolf had crumbled to the tiled floor, his head in his hands. Suddenly, his head shot up and looked straight at Stiles, yellow eyes burning.

"Get away from me!"

This was the last thing Scott managed to say before fully losing control. Stiles stumbled backwards as his friend launched himself at him. He ducked and ran between the lockers, looking over his shoulders in fright. He couldn't see Scott, but he could hear him growling as he got closer. He needed to get out of here. Stiles rushed to the door, almost losing his footing in his hurry. Scott was hiding just above him. He was crouched on the top of a locker, watching Stiles like a predator would watch his prey. Scott jumped down just as Stiles was reaching the door. He growled again, fangs showing and ready to attack. Stiles had his back to the wall. His eyes searched around him, looking for a weapon, anything to keep Scott at bay. The only thing he could find was a fire extinguisher. He grabbed it and aimed it straight at Scott. A white fog filled the air as Stiles activated the device.

He couldn't see Scott anymore. He held on to the fire extinguisher, hugging it as if his life depended on it. He waited anxiously for the fog to dissipate, hidden behind the corner of the wall and praying that Scott was himself again. He didn't have to wait long before a voice spoke.

"Stiles?"

The spastic teen carefully exited his hiding spot, still holding on to the fire extinguisher.

"Stiles, what happened?"

Scott looked utterly confused. Stiles let out a sigh, relieved. His friend was back to his normal, clueless state.

"You tried to kill me," Stiles simply stated, dropping the fire extinguisher to the floor and sitting down next to Scott. "It's like I told you before, it's the anger, it's your pulse rising. It's a trigger."

"But that's lacrosse!" Scott protested, "It's a pretty violent game, if you hadn't noticed!"

"Well, it's gonna be a lot more violent if you end up killing someone on the field!" Stiles explained as calmly as he could, "You cannot play on Saturday, you're gonna have to get out of the game."

"But I'm first line!"

"Not anymore," Stiles stated in a decided tone.

Stiles got back on his feet and left the room, leaving Scott alone to think. He knew his friend would need some time to accept that he simply couldn't play lacrosse anymore. Being a werewolf came at  price Scott was starting to pay.