Was this really how he was going to go out?
Was he really going to die because of some bullies being to stupid to realize what they had done?
This was so embarrassing.
He had lived through werewolf attacks and monsters... but he was going to end up a corpse over a few idiot bullies...
They were right... he was pathetic...
How long had he been tied to the lacross goal? Hours at least.
He really had to learn to keep his mouth shut more often. Not that it would help now.
Jackson and his goons had beat the hell out of him.
All of it had started with Jackson saying that there was no reason to have a spastic loser on the team who was only ever good at warming the bench.
Stiles had remarked back that Jackson's money was the only real reason he was still on the team at all.
That had lead to Stiles getting punched in the face. He had fallen hard to the ground. Jackson had kicked him in the stomach and Stiles had tried to fight back even when he had been in huge amounts of pain. If it had only been Jackson he might have wounded the boy enough to escape.
But the other three grabbed him and started raining punches and kicks to his body. All he could do was curl up and try to cover up as much of his vulnerable parts as possible.
He woke up as they dragged him across the grass by his shirt towards the goal. He coughed and spit out blood as his shirt tore off his body and he fell to the cool grass.
Then he heard the sound of duct tape as they grabbed him and hauled him up and duck taped his wrists to the goal top post. He had tried to struggle and yell but they punched him again and then they wrapped the duct tape around his mouth and head to keep his screams muffled.
"No one is going to hear your annoying mouth tonight loser." Jackson spit on his face and then punched his stomach once more.
Wheezing and in pain Stiles could do nothing when Jackson took out a marker and wrote Pathetic Loser on Stiles chest. Then he laughed with his friends and walked off.
His shirt was ripped compeltely off his body so he was half naked as the temperature dropped the later it got.
Stiles had struggled and tried to scream, but they had used lots of duct tape to secure him to the goal and he couldn't really scream with his mouth shut.
So he hoped that someone would come looking for him. Scott would come. Right? They had plans tonight... but what if he was busy with Allison?
Wouldn't his father come looking for him? No... he was on the late shift tonight...
He was stuck until morning. When people would walk onto the field and Jackson would watch as he was cut down and they would all laugh at the pathetic loser.
But they didn't realize that there would be an early tempature drop tonight. Instead of getting down to 67 degrees... it was below freezing. He could tell because the grass was covered in frost. He had been shivering and shaking for hours. It had hurt to be so cold for so long.
Until...
Until it stopped hurting. Until he stopped shaking.
Until he started to get tired.
He knew what was happening. Hypothermia. He... he was dying. His systems were going to start to shut down soon. He would just go to sleep... and never wake up again.
He didn't want to die. Not like this. Not alone. Not taped to the damn Lacross goal with pathetic loser written on his chest.
Not... not like this... It wasn't supposed to be like this...
He was supposed to go out with a bang. He was supposed to save his friends from some monster and give one last snarky quip before the lights went out.
He thought of his father finding him.
A tear rolled down his cheek at that thought. He didn't want his father to find his body like this. Not like this. Please. Not like this.
Don't shut your eyes. Don't go to sleep. Try to stay awake. Try to pull your hands free.
Can barely move. Try damn it. He did. He tried. What little energy he had left he tried to escape. He tried to call out. But his efforts did nothing.
He couldn't even stand on his own anymore. He hung from his wrists his knees nearly touching the frozen grass and his head hung to his chest as he was exhausted.
He had no energy left. His eyes were getting so heavy and it was getting so hard to stay awake.
He still couldn't believe that he was going to die because of bullies. He couldn't belive that this was how it ended for him.
He hoped beyond hope that they would cut him down before his father came to the scene. He didn't want him to see him like this. Who would take care of him now? Who would make sure he didn't drink. Who would make sure he ate right?
He was going to miss his father. He was going to miss Scott... His best friend... He hoped Scott didn't find him either...
His eyes slowly closed.
He wondered if he was going to see his mom soon...
......
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHH" Stiles was screaming in pain as his entire body was in horrific stabbing burning pain.
Trying to thrash he was held still in the tub up aginst a fucking furnace of flesh. Screaming in agony he tried to escape the burning but a voice was growling at him to stay still that it was the only way. "DAMN IT STILES STOP THRASHING" Derek snarled as he held him in the tub.
"IT HURTS! AAAAGGGHHH FUCK IT BURNS!" Searing heat was everywhere and it felt like a thousand needles all over his skin plunged bone deep over and over.
"I have to get your tempurature up! You were about to die!" Derek snarled again as he held him up against his naked chest. God his skin was like burning hot steel and the water in the tub felt like lava. But he knew through the haze of the pain that Derek was saving his life.
His lungs gasped in air with every breath and he was shuddering and shaking as feeling rushed back into his body as his temperature was being forced back up by a werewolf heater and hot water in a deep tub in the locker room.
By the time his body was back to almost normal Stiles was half conscious laying against Dereks chest with is cheek resting over the man's heart. He could hear the wolfs heart beat strong and fast.
"Stiles... who did this to you?" Derek asked as he still held the fragile boy.
Stiles breathed a sigh of defeat and then his eyes slid shut and he fell asleep with no energy to stay awake any longer. Derek had saved him. The last one he had expected.
Derek took him out of the tub and dried him off and dressed him in sweats and wrapped him in his leather jacket as he carried him to his camaro.
Stiles had died... His heart had just stopped beating by the time Derek had ran onto the field.
He had thought he was too late. He had roared and ripped the tape away and lay him on the ground and started cpr. It was like trying to breath life into ice. Stiles had been covered in frost. His hair. His eye lashes. His body. He was practically frozen.
It took everything just to get his heart beating and him breathing again. Derek had ran carrying him into the school and turned on the hot water in the tub of the locker room of the training room. He had stripped them both and gotten into the tub and held Stiles practically lifeless body to his rubbing his hands and fingers and feet and toes trying to get circulation going through his extrimities as the hot water filled the tub.
The boys heart beat had been weak but the hotter he became the stronger it was. Then finally the boy woke but it was to scream in pain as feeling rushed back into his body after nearly freezing to death... after actually freezing to death... stiles heart had been stopped for almost 49 seconds... It was the longest 49 seconds of Dereks life.
Derek would find who did this to him... He would make them pay...
No one messed with his pack. No one messes with Stiles...
Derek took him back to the loft and put him in his bed pulling all the covers around Stiles and then he sat beside the bed and listened to the sound of his heart regaining strength slowly. Derek never wanted to hear that erratic heart stop beating ever again. The world would be too silent... to cold... to horrible without that unique erratic heartbeat...