Teen Wolf Reacts

Chapter 5

A/n Sorry it took me so long, this chapter was really hard to like. Pls comment and tell me what you think

Scott finally had enough. He had just witnessed his childhood best friend cut people down like they were corn. He needed to speak to Stiles. He needed to say something, offer Stiles the chance to explain himself. He wanted to understand Stiles, but how could he empathize with a killer? It was only fair to offer him the benefit of the doubt.  More likely than not, Stiles would be willing to repent for his mistakes and they could all move past this unpleasantness.

He approached Four, who was painting her nails, and asked, "Is there someplace Stiles and I can talk in private, like a spare room or something?"

Four, who first looked offended that Scott would even talk to her, now looked curious. She analyzed his face, growing more and more disgruntled as time went on. Scott realized, much too slow, that she was reading his mind. He was momentarily distracted; what was she? Scott had never heard of a creature that could do that, not to mention stop time and get them all here.

"I am disappointed, but not surprised. There is a door in the back, to the right. It's soundproof, no one will be able to hear you, even werewolves."

Scott went to leave, but Four put a hand on his bicep, careful not to smudge her nails. He turned back to look at her, but she was staring at Stiles.

"I would tread lightly, if I were you." Her eyebrows were scrunched up, and she had the same analytical expression that she sported just a few moments ago.

"You're reading his mind!" Scott whisper-shouted. "What is he thinking?"

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out," Her tone made it clear that she was done talking. Scott walked away from her, and thought about what she said. He was sure that Stiles was just as eager to have the following conversation. Undoubtedly Stiles was willing to apologize for all he had done.

What could possibly go wrong?

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Stiles put his arm on the table. He flexed his biceps and cracked his knuckles.

"What? You scared?" He mocked, and Liam scoffed.

"No, I'm not a girl. I just don't want to arm wrestle."

"First of all, that's sexist. I've met women who could easily beat your ass with their eyes closed," Stiles said sternly, and Liam shot Lydia and Kira an apologetic smile.

"Second of all, you don't have your powers. I just want to see if you can beat me. Or maybe you're too weak," Stiles goaded.

Liam took the bait and gave an airy laugh. He leaned down and put his arm on the table, his sleeve stretching around his bicep.

Stiles rolled his eyes. Werewolves always seemed to wear shirts that were way to small for them. They do know that they make more than one size, right? Maybe they're trying to save money? Spend less on shirts, so they can afford more.....puppy chow?

Liam clasped Stiles hand. It was sweaty. Stiles smothered the smirk he felt rising up. Liam was nervous. He knew there was a possibility Stiles would win.

"3...2...1"

Both boys began pushing, but Liam began to overpower. Stiles gritted his teeth as his arm was pushed further and further back. 60 more degrees and it would over. Liam grinned; he was winning. Victory filled his veins. Suddenly, Stiles winked at him. The nervous energy burst that had allowed him to take the lead in the beginning was ebbing away.

Stiles, it seemed, had been pacing himself. He was slowly overpowering Liam, who was hissing with anger. A distant part of Stiles's brain wondered if Liam would hit him if Stiles won. The other part didn't care.