Series Rewrite (A Teen Wolf Fanfiction)

More Bad Than Good Part 2

"Mr. Stilinski, how about you come up and read aloud for the class, please?" Mr. Yukimura asked. My smile dropped as I looked over to my boyfriend. He glanced at me nervously.

"Uh, may-maybe someone else could?" he replied.

"I'll read," I said, hoping it would get him out of it.

"No, thank you, Ms. Y/L/N. Everyone participates in my class, Mr. Stilinski," Yukimura smiled. Perhaps he thought Stiles just had a fear of speeches or was lazy. He didn't know that he was setting Stiles up for embarrassment over something he couldn't control.

Stiles sighed and stood to walk to the podium. I leaned forward, prepared for anything. I felt Kira's curious gaze on me, but I ignored her. Stiles looked down at the text book in front of him, mumbling 'okay' under his breath repeatedly. He squeezed his eyes closed as his fingers clenched around the edge of the podium, turning white. His eyes started to roll as he began to pant. Sweat formed on his forehead and upper lip as he looked up at the class.

His eyes scanned the room until they landed on me, and he shook his head slightly, his heart already racing. I groaned quietly and stood up. He started to fall against the podium as his pulse soared higher. I ran up to him, Scott standing as I passed.

Without listening to Yukimura's questions, Scott and I pulled Stiles out of the room. Scott let go so he could opened the door to the men's bathroom, and Stiles practically fell into the room.

"I think he's having a panic attack," I said as Stiles gripped onto the sink, staring at himself in the mirror with hooded eyes.

"It's a dream, it's a dream. This is just a dream," Stiles mumbled quietly.

"No, it's not," Scott replied.

"This is real. You're here with us. You're here with me," I cooed, putting my hand on the space between his shoulder blades. He shoved me back, yelling at me and telling me that I wasn't real. I would've been hurt had I not known Stiles was terrified right now.

"Y/N," Scott said, his voice suddenly serious.

"What? What is it?" I asked, even though my thoughts were focused elsewhere.

"Kira. She's scared. I-I think something is scaring her." Scott looked from Stiles to the door behind him, debating on whether or not to go.

"Go, I got this," I said. He nodded and ran out quickly. I turned back to Stiles, not touching him. "Fingers, right? You said in dreams you have extra fingers." He nodded, wheezing and sweating through his shirt as he leaned down on the sink like he was going to puke.

I held up my clenched fists. "Baby, look at me. How many fingers do I have?" Stiles squinted at me like he was seeing through blurred vision, then shook his head and looked back down again. "Stiles, look at me. Count with me, okay? Count my fingers." He turned around, panting and holding himself up against the wall, and stared at my hands.

I lifted one finger and counted it. I lifted another, letting him do the counting. "Two? Three." He whined like something stung in his chest, not counting the next finger I lifted.

"Keep going, Stiles. Count them," I ordered.

He stared at my fingers like they were evil, but counted nonetheless. "Four. Five. Six, seven, eight, nine..."

"Ten," I said, holding up the last finger. His breathing slowed as he looked at both of my hands. He reached out, skimming his fingers along mine as his eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

His eyes had this haunted look as he stumbled back against the wall and slid until he was sitting down on the floor. His knees were bent and spread, so I knelt down between them, hesitatingly reaching out to touch his arm.