˗ˏˋ⋆ H E A V E N L Y ⋆ˎˊ˗
↳ 𝒙𝒗𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒆
𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧, 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦
(𝔏𝔲𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔠)
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"WHERE ARE WE GOING?" SCOTT COMPLAINED AS HE FOLLOWED Stiles through the main campsite of the Beacon Hills Preserve.
"You'll see," was all the Stilinski boy said.
"'Cause we really shouldn't be out here," Scott stated. "My mom is in a constant state of freak-out from what happened at the school."
Stiles scoffed. "Well, your mom isn't the sheriff, okay? There's no comparison, trust me."
"Can you at least just tell me what we're doing out here?"
"Yes," Stiles gave in. "When your best friend gets dumped--"
"--I didn't get dumped," Scott defended. "We're taking a break."
"All right, well, when your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they're taking a break..." Stiles grinned and turned around, pulling the whiskey out of his jacket to show Scott. "You get your best friend drunk."
After an hour went by, the bottle was more than halfway gone. Scott had drunk nearly half of the bottle on his own, feeling no effect from the alcohol whatsoever, while Stiles drank a quarter of it and was totally wasted.
"Dude, you know, she's just one-one girl," he slurred. "You know, there are so many-there are so many other girls in the sea."
Scott, annoyed by the fact that he was the one who was supposed to be drunk, rolled his eyes. "Fish in the sea."
"Fish?" Stiles gave him a confused look. "Why you talking about fish? I'm talking about girls. I love girls. I love 'em. I love especially ones with strawberry blond hair, green eyes, five-foot-three," he rambled on with a wistful smile.
Scott glanced down at him. "Like Lydia?"
"Yeah, exactly!" Stiles exclaimed. "Hey, how did you know I was talking about-about...what was I talking about?"
Scott didn't answer, causing Stiles to look over at him again. He saw the grumpy look on his best friend's face and frowned.
"Hey, you're not happy," Stiles pointed out, rolling over to pick up the whiskey he rested down. "Take a drink."
"I don't want any more."
"You're not drunk?"
"I'm not anything."
"Hey, maybe it's like-maybe it's like not needing your inhaler anymore, you know?" Stiles theorized, rolling onto his back as he rested the whiskey bottle down. "Maybe you can't get drunk as a wolf...Am I drunk?"
Scott looked over at Stiles, noticing his furrowed brows, and shook his head. "You're wasted."
"Yeah!" Stiles cheered, held his fist up so Scott could bump it, Scott sat there with his shoulders slumped. "Come on, dude, I know it feels bad. I know it hurts. I know..." Stiles paused, remembering that he never actually had a girlfriend. "Well, I don't know. But I know this. I know that as much as being broken up hurts, being alone is way worse."
Scott went through Stiles' words in his head and looked over at his best friend. Stiles chuckled. "That didn't make any sense. I need a drink."
Before he could grab the whiskey, another hand reached out and took the bottle. Stiles and Scott looked up, seeing two unfamiliar men standing in front of them.
"Well, look at the two little bitches getting their drink on," one of them taunted. It was some man, wearing a funny hat.
Scott glared at him. "Give it back."
The guy with the hat scoffed and exchanged a smirk with his friend. "What's that, little man?"
"I think he wants a drink," the other guy spoke up with an amused look.
"I want the bottle," Scott demanded.
"Scott, maybe we should just go," Stiles suggested, sitting up.
"You brought me here to get me drunk, Stiles," Scott said, never tearing his eyes away from the two men. "I'm not drunk yet."
The first guy scoffed and took a sip from the bottle. Scott's glare sharpened as he stood up to face the men. He was a couple inches shorter than both of them, but he didn't seem to care. He was a werewolf; he could overpower them any day.
"Give me the bottle," Scott commanded. When the first guy shook his head, Scott flashed his golden eyes at him and lowered his voice into a growl. "Give me the bottle of Jack."
Stiles got to his feet, seeing Scott's claws start to break through his nail beds. "Scott?"
The first guy slowly held out the bottle of Jack Daniel's out to Scott. Scott ripped it from his grasp and whipped it at a nearby tree, shattering the bottle completely. The men took off, not daring to look back at Scott as they ran away.
"Okay, please tell me that was because of the breakup," he pleaded as he started to sober up. "Or 'cause tomorrow's the full moon."
Scott, a few feet ahead of his best friend, didn't answer. When they arrived at Stiles' Jeep, he opened the passenger door and gestured for Stiles to get in.
"Going home now, yeah?" Stiles asked, promptly falling back in the seat behind him.
Scott rolled his eyes and slammed the door shut.
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"BEAUTIFUL MONDAY MORNING!" GRACIE'S ALARM SOUNDED loudly. She groaned as her eyes fluttered open. "Beacon Hills High School is back open after being closed since last Monday. Police search continues for alleged killer Derek Hale--"
The brunette slammed her hand down a few times until the alarm turned off.
"Should've set it to buzzer," Gracie grumbled as she got out of bed.
After finishing her usual morning routine and getting dressed, Gracie grabbed her bag and swung her hair over her shoulder as she left. She headed towards the one of the Hale family's vaults, where had Derek been hiding since he couldn't stay at the loft. She had visited him every morning and had to be careful. She wasn't sure -- she could've just been paranoid -- but she had a feeling she was being watched.
"Morning," she greeted, handing him the container of breakfast she had made before she left. "How are you feeling?"
"Thanks," he said, opening it up to start eating. "I'm fine. All healed up like I told you...two days ago."
"I was worried about you," Gracie rolled her eyes, not feeling bad for caring about him. "I thought you were dead, Derek."
"I know..." He hummed as his face softened. "But I'm okay. I just need to lay low." His sister nodded. "I need you to do something for me today."
"Anything."
"I need you to look after Scott," he admitted.
"Anything but that."
"Gracie--"
"--He made you a mass murderer and you still want to help him?!"
Derek shrugged. "I'll reach out if he needs me during the full moon. But, for now, I have to lay low. You said that his anchor was Allison, and they broke up. He'll probably be messed up. I just need you to keep an eye on him at school today."
Gracie let out a frustrated huff as she shook her head. She didn't want anything to do with Scott or Stiles, but she knew that it was for the best. It was only Scott's second full moon and she didn't know how it'd go. The fact that things had ended badly between him and Allison only made it worse.
"Fine."
"Be careful."
"Yeah, yeah..." She waved him off.
As she made her way to school, Stiles, however, was sitting outside the principal's office, waiting for his dad to come out. He had seen him come in when he left homeroom and what was going on with the search on Derek.
"We are watching his apartment and his family's house," Noah told the detectives. "Maybe he'll wind up there." As they came out into the hallway, the Sheriff spotted his son and frowned. "Give me a second." He walked over to Stiles and crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't you have a test to get to?"
"What's going on?" Stiles ignored the question. "Did you find Derek yet?"
"I'm workin' on it. You go take your test," Sheriff Stilinski said sternly.
Stiles shook his head. "All right, Dad, listen to me."
"Go!"
"This is really important," Stiles persisted. "You have to be careful tonight, okay? Especially tonight."
"Stiles, I'm always careful," his dad softened, seeing the concern in his son's eyes.
"Dad, you've never dealt with this kind of thing before, okay?" Stiles stated, talking about werewolves. "At least not like this."
"I know, which is why I brought in people who have," Noah told him, gesturing to the men he had left the principal's office with. "State detectives. Go take your test."
Stiles sighed heavily and slung his backpack over his shoulder. He left his dad and made his way to one of the exam rooms where his chemistry test was taking place.
By the time he got there, he saw that Mr. Harris and groaned under his breath, ignoring the glare the chemistry teacher sent him when he took his seat.
Mr. Harris had started distributing the scantrons for the tests when Scott walked in, heading straight over to Allison.
"Allison," he called out, his voice barely above a whisper as he stood in front of her. She stared down at her desk, never meeting his gaze.
"Mr. McCall, please take a seat," Mr. Harris demanded. Scott sighed and walked away from Allison, taking the empty desk in front of Stiles. Once all the test papers were given out, Mr. Harris stood at the front of the room. "You have 45 minutes to complete the test. 25% of your grade can be earned right now simply by writing your name on the cover of the blue book." Gracie's eyebrows rose and she quickly wrote her name on the designated line. "However, as happens every year, one of you will inexplicably fail to put your name on the cover, and I'll be left yet again questioning my decision to ever become a teacher. So let's get the disappointment over with. Begin."
The sound of several pages flipping filled the room as everyone got started on their tests. Reading the first question, Gracie smiled as she filled in one of the bubbles.
After fifteen minutes, she answered her last question when a screeching noise filled the air just as Scott jumped to his feet and ran out of the room.
"Mr. McCall?" Mr. Harris called. Stiles grabbed his bag and his test and ran down the steps. He slammed his finished test on Mr. Harris' desk and left the room. "Mr. Stilinski!"
Gracie sighed. She ran down the steps and added the test onto the small pile starting to form before following after the two boys.
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𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄:
So here's chapter eighteen. I hope you liked it. Please tell me what you think. Comments and opinions are much appreciated.