WHY DO I STILL? | stiles stilinski v. isaac lahey

EIGHT

This wasn't going to look good for Stiles.

"She went with Stiles," Jackson admitted.

Noah looked at Haven, his facial expression falling, "He didn't go with you?"

"Stiles took her," she replied, not being able to meet his eyes. It wasn't like she could tell her what she knew: Peter had done this.

"Somebody better find my son," Noah muttered, looking specifically at Haven as he said it.

✧☾✧

"Stiles!"

She peddled faster when they came into view at a parking lot structure. She wasn't even sure how she had found them, but she just thought about it, and there she was, making her way to a specific location. She left Jackson with Lydia, telling him to text her updates.

Peter rolled his eyes when he saw her while Stiles looked worried, eyes full of concern.

"How did you—" Stiles asked as she got off her bike, unclipping her helmet.

"Jackson told me about Lydia," she said, walking over to him, and he pulled her into his side.

"I told him—"

"Not to? I know," she finished for him, pulling away from him.

"Don't tell me your username and password is Haven," Peter said to Stiles.

"Excuse me?" Haven asked, bewildered.

"Ignore him," Stiles said. "Why are you here?"

"Your dad has the whole sheriff's department looking for you," she replied, crossing her arms. "Thought it'd be better I found you first."

"Are you a werewolf?" Peter asked her, and she shook her head. "Peculiar than you knew just where to find us."

There was howling, and Peter told Stiles, "Give me your keys."

Stiles sighed, tossing over the keys to Roscoe. "Careful, she grinds in second."

Stiles asked, "So, you're not gonna kill us?"

Peter turned around, and Stiles stepped back, making sure to keep himself placed in front of Haven. She snaked her arms around his, holding herself to his side.

"Don't you understand yet?" Peter asked him. "I'm not the bad guy here."

"You turn into a giant monster and bite my friends," replied Haven, shaking her head. 

"With red eyes and fangs," added Stiles.

"Are you sure you're not the bad guy here?" added Haven.

"The finishing sentences thing you two do," Peter said, pointing between the two of them. "It's so... adorable it's disgusting. But I like you, two, Stiles, Haven. Since Stiles has helped me... and Haven seems to be smart enough to randomly find you... I'm going to give you guys something in return. Do you want the bite?"

There was a silence as both teens processed what the alpha was offering them.

"What?" asked Stiles.

"Do you want the bite?" Peter repeated. "If it doesn't kill you—and it could—you'll become like us."

"Like you?" Haven said warily, and she looked down at Stiles's hand, intertwining it with one of hers as she kept the other arm wrapped around his arm.

"Yes, a werewolf," replied Peter. "Would you like me to draw you a picture? That first night in the woods, I took Scott because I needed a new pack. It could've easily been you, Stiles. You'd be every bit as powerful as him. No more standing by his side, watching him become stronger, and quicker, more popular, watching him get the girl. You'd be equals. Maybe more."