Blurry » Sterek

Chapter 23

"I killed a bunny," Scott sulks with a hanging head. He climbs into Stiles' Jeep at six in the morning after waking up in the middle of the woods with a dead rabbit next to him, it's white fur stained red. "At least it wasn't a person," Stiles mumbles, itching for a cup of coffee before the world of supernatural tries crushing him today.

The ride to Scott's house is silent, because the one time Stiles hates talking is early in the morning, especially without any caffeine in him.

Stiles rummages around the kitchen, grumbling incoherently until he finally gets the coffee pot brewing.

"You're up early," Noah comments, glancing down at his watch to check the time, figuring he could have woken up late. "Mhm," he manages, staring dead at the tiled floor, arms crossed over his chest impatiently.

The teenager gulps down his coffee greedily, sighing in content, even though his tongue is slightly burned now. Having got his dose of caffeine, Stiles goes upstairs to shower and pick out an outfit.

Once he's stepping outside, Stiles feels a bit more prepared to take on today's new issues. Scott can ramble about his problems while new ones appear out of thin air, but at least he's awake now.

"Get all that bunny washed off you?" Stiles smirks, meeting Scott at his motorcycle in the parking lot. "Not funny," Scott glares, "I found some of its guts in my hair." Stiles stifles a laugh, patting his best friend on the back.

Maybe today will be different.

—

"Hi," Stiles intervenes, pulling Scott away from Allison halfway through a flirty conversation. "Dude!" Scott exclaims, and Allison gives him a dumbfounded expression. "Uh, sorry, have you seen Derek? He hasn't been to class."

"So? He's probably taking the day off," Scott shrugs easily. Stiles lets out a noise of frustration. Whenever Scott is around the brunette nothing seems to be of importance besides her. The only person who can help Scott could possibly be missing and he can't see past the girl standing six inches in front of him, twirling a stand of her hair between her fingers.

Stiles anxiously taps his foot through his next two classes, breaking once seated in last hour.

Stiles: Hey, just checking in since you're not at school.

With a shaky exhale, knowing him and Derek are on an unstable foundation right now, he presses send. English ticks by impossibly long, and Stiles never removes his stare from the phone sitting in his lap.

Something is definitely wrong. Stiles can feel it.

"We have to find Derek, Scott, please tell me you don't have plans with your girlfriend," Stiles practically begs, desperate for a little help from Scott's werewolf senses. "I don't, her aunt just got in last night so they're spending the day together," Scott tells him, though Stiles doesn't really care, especially because Scott is still calm, meaning he isn't taking this situation seriously.

"Just meet me at his place, okay? You can get his scent."

"Fine," Scott agrees, parting from Stiles' side and over to his motorcycle. Stiles hops into his Jeep, hoping to avoid the inevitable line of cars all leaving at the same time. He manages to back out just before everyone else, checking his rear view mirror at the traffic behind him. Seconds later, he slams down on the break, creating a chain reaction, followed by screeching and honking horns.

"Derek," Stiles breaths, struggle with his seat belt to get out. He reaches Derek just as he collapses, barely catching him. Scott abandons his bike in the middle of chaos, running to help Stiles drag the other beta into the jeeps passenger seat.

"What the hell happened?" Scott yells quietly. Stiles swallows hard, giving Derek a once over. His skin is pale and clammy, eyes encompasses by dark bags, and his breathing is too slow. "I—I don't know," Stiles stammers, the impatient line of vehicles bringing students to see what the commotion is. "I'll get him out of here."