Series Rewrite (A Teen Wolf Fanfiction)

117 Part 2

Stiles did practically everything except chew my food for me. He was babying me, and I knew he meant well, but I just needed him to be normal. I needed one thing to stay the same. Which is why I went to school, despite Sheriff's wishes. I was getting a shitload of pity looks and curious gazes, and I tried my best to ignore them.

Even all of my teachers were like Stiles to some degree. All of them told me to let them know if there was anything I needed, like I was going to go to them in my time of need–teachers I'd never even had a normal conversation with.

Mr. Yukimura listed out the accomplishments and defeats of the greatest president ever, then asked us to identify him by those things. Surprisingly, Stiles raised his hand high.

I looked at him, and he smiled, sending me a wink. It was the first normal thing he'd done since last night, and I think he realized it because he automatically looked back at me and frowned his apologies. My heart sank with that apology. Was that how it was going to be between us? Him stepping on his toes to avoid the broken glass?

On my right, Malia had a yellow highlighter in her mouth and was furiously highlighting her textbook in red. So, of course, Mr. Yukimura called on her. Her eyes snapped up, and she looked around expectantly, not dropping the highlighter from her mouth.

Scott's phone rang on his desk, and he almost answered it.

"Scott, phones off. Malia? One of our greatest presidents," Yukimura said. Scott unhappily refused the call. Malia nodded as she stuck the tip of the red highlighter in her mouth to look through the book for the answer. I could feel my lips perking up at the sight of her normality. She was one of the only ones who didn't treat me any differently.

Stiles' phone chimed and Mr. Yukimura told everyone to turn off their phones, irritated. When Malia didn't know the answer, he sighed and asked if anyone else knew. Nearly everyone in the class raised their hands, and Malia sunk down in her seat.

Mr. Yukimura's phone beeped, and he yelled, "I said phones off!"

"Dad, that was your phone," Kira told him.

"Oh... Um..." He jittered around nervously before turning to check his phone. "'Scott, call Lydia'." He looked up at Scott with confusion and Scott smiled apologetically. Scott, Stiles and I glanced at each other before grabbing our bags and running out of the room.

Stiles tried to take my bag, but I pulled it back. "Stiles, I'm an orphan, not disabled. I can carry my own backpack." He frowned as I snapped at him and let go of my bag. I felt a little guilty about it, but I didn't care enough to apologize.

Lydia told us to go to the clinic, so that's what we did. When we got there, she was patching up Deaton's arm. He was bleeding pretty badly.

"What happened?" Scott asked.

"Derek attacked me. It seemed like he didn't know who we were. I don't think he's just younger in body. I think he's younger in his mind, too," Deaton explained.

"So, if you're a teenage werewolf and you're scared, where do you go?" Stiles asked.

"A wolf goes back to its den," Scott said. "But Derek lives in a loft."

"Not when he was a teenager," I said, looking at Scott with expectance.

"The Hale House," Lydia figured out, and I nodded.

"He wouldn't remember the fire," Deaton thought. We took that as our cue to head over there, but Lydia stopped us.

"Say you do manage to catch up to him," she said. "What are you gunna say to him? That his whole family is dead?" I pursed my lips, my heart squeezing painfully as I lowered my gaze to the ground. Lydia apologized as Stiles rubbed my back gently.