"Jared, I'm warning you, I'm an empathetic vomiter so if you throw up, I'm gonna throw up right back on you. And it will be profoundly disgusting." Coach Finstock was talking to Jared, a.k.a. barf bag, up in the front. Apparently he get's super car sick and puke's like crazy when he's in a car for long periods of time, which doesn't work well for us on the bus.
Jared shook his head from side to side slowly, "Please don't talk about throwing up, it's not good."
"I might throw up on you just to make a point, Jared. Now the rest of you, don't think that we're going to miss this meet because of a slight traffic jam and a minor tornado warning. Stilinski put your hand down--"
Stiles started to speak anyway, "You know there's a food exit about half a mile up we could stop there and wait for the traffic--"
"We're not gonna stop." Finstock snapped as he gave my boyfriend the death stare, I know they have a love/hate relationship. And right now that relationship is about 99% hate.
"But if we stop--"
Finstock then blew his beloved whistle and flailed his arms about in a spastic manner, "Stilinski shut it! Seriously, it's a small bus! Stop asking me so many questions!"
Stiles sunk back in the seat beside me and let out a sigh, "I hate him. Scott, did you get a hold of Deaton yet?"
"No. I keep getting his voice-mail." My brother rasped out as he rested his head against the cool glass window. I had my head on Stiles' shoulder, which was a hell of a lot more comfortable than the window, I can tell you that much.
My boyfriend groaned in irritation as he fished his phone out of his pocket, "That's it. I'm calling Lydia and Allison."
"What good will that do? They're back in Beacon Hills?" Scott asked in confusion.
I sighed, "They've been tailing us for the past hour and a half. It's pathetic that they thought we wouldn't find out."
Stiles pressed the phone to his ear and listened to Lydia talk for a bit before he cut her off, "I know you guys are right behind us now put me on speaker."
"Yeah, okay." Lydia responded quickly.
"Okay, Scott isn't healing. And Kasey isn't either, she connected herself to him again last night and she has all of these weird purple streaks in her arms." Stiles explained as he glanced at me briefly.
Allison then spoke up, "What do you mean Scott's not healing? Shouldn't they both be healing?"
"They should be, but I think they're actually getting worse. The blood's like turning into a blackish color." Stiles explained further.
Lydia took her turn to question the situation, "What's wrong with them?"
"What's wrong with them? How the hell am I supposed to know? Do I look like I have a PhD in lycanthropy?" Stiles fired back in annoyance. It was obvious that the situation was taking a toll on him, with the not knowing and the fact that Scott and I were getting dramatically worse each second. I can understand why he is getting a bit annoyed.
My side then decided to just erupt in pain at that very moment and I winced as I pulled away from Stiles. I needed to stand up, sitting in this position is just ripping my skin open even more and it's starting to really freaking hurt. I can't take much more of this.
"Stiles, I need to get off this bus. I can't sit here any more," I said as I pressed my back against the side of the bus. My eyes were stinging with tears and my veins felt like they were pumping hot lava again.
He let out a shaky breath as he pulled the phone away from his ear, "Okay. I'm gonna, I'll just... I don't know, I'll do something. Just hang on for a little while longer, alright?"
I nodded once as I bit down on the inside of my cheek, Stiles swallowed nervously as he stood from the seat and made his way down the aisle to go and speak with Coach Finstock. I closed my eyes in an attempt to calm myself down, if I just tell myself the pain isn't that bad, it won't be that bad.
The sound of that stupid whistle blowing caused my eyes to snap open, Stiles was standing in front of Coach in the middle of the aisle. I didn't even hear him get up? Is he seriously going to try and get him to pull the bus over? That won't happen. Not unless Jared actually gets sick. Which, obviously he is trying to avoid.
"It's sixty miles to the next rest stop--"
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"Being cooped up for hours is not good--"
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"You know our bladders aren't exactly--"
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"Coach--"
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"This isn't--"
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"Please--"
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"Everytime--"
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"Let me talk!"
Tweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet
"Back to your seat, Stilinski!" Coach shouted as he dropped the whistle from between his lips. Well that certainly was an ordeal.
"OKAY!" Stiles shouted hatefully as he wiped at his face with the back of his hand, as he spun around on his heal to stomp back to the seat, I could see the anger bubbling behind the hazel depths of his eyes. Finstock had pushed him a bit too far.
"Jared just keep your eyes on the horizon," Finstock muttered as he headed back towards the front of the bus. Something clicked in Stiles' mind in that split second because he smirked as his head slowly turned to face Jared. Oh holy hell.
✠
"JARED YOU SUCK! Hey, somebody grab some towels, or a mop, or a new bus!" Finstock shouted as he sprayed some Apricot scented Glade out the window of the bus in which everyone was now evacuating. It took Stiles all of two minutes to get Jared to hurl, and that allowed the bus driver clearance to go to the rest stop.
Stiles was currently leading my brother and I to the restroom of said rest stop, with Allison and Lydia helping support Scott. I felt light headed and my side was burning whilst oozing more of the black colored blood. I don't think it's supposed to look like that..
When Scott and I were sat on the dirty tile floor beside the sinks, our heads rested against one another's in attempt to remain upright. Stiles and Allison lifted up the hem's of our shirts as they inspected the identical wounds on us, I risked a glance to see the purple tendrils that were on my forearms were now around the gash as well. That can't be good.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Allison questioned Scott, her eyes were wide as she took in just how serious of an injury this was.
Scott attempted a smile, "Sorry?"
"They should be healing by now, something is really wrong." She panicked as she pushed herself to her feet and began to pace around the small bathroom.
Stiles ran his hands over his face as he glanced at her, "What should we do? Call an ambulance? Take them to the hospital?"
"What if it's too late for that? Like, there isn't anything they could do?" Allison asked as she avoided looking at my brother and I.
My boyfriend gaped at her, "We have to do something! I can't just let them die!"
"It could be psychological?" Lydia suggested, and that's when something clicked in my mind. That would make sense as to why I'm not healing, because something is wrong with Scott in his mind and he is forcing himself to believe that he won't heal.
Stiles and Lydia conversed about psychogenic causes or something of that nature briefly and then through my hazy vision I watched Lydia pull out a small pink box, what is that? "Stitch him up."
"What?" Allison asked in confusion.
Lydia nodded as she handed her the box, "All he has to do is just think that it's healing."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what about Kasey?" Stiles interjected as he shot me a worried glance. My eyelids were starting to feel heavier and heavier by the second, for some reason I just kept hearing Scott say that he was tired over and over again in my mind. And the last thing that I remember is hearing Allison say that she knew what she was doing, before I passed out.
✠
"Kasey?"
I groaned as my eyes peeled open, Allison's face was about three inches from mine and to be honest that was entirely too close for me. I jolted in my spot on the ground, causing my head to hit the metal pipe of the sink.
"Oh, seriously?" I groaned as I rubbed at my head, Scott was standing up, but he was supporting himself with the aforementioned sink.
Allison grinned, "You're okay. Oh thank god."
My eyes flitted down to the gash on my side, and the skin appeared to be pulled close together, as if it were sewn together with an invisible string. It looked weird, but at least it wasn't bleeding anymore. And my pain level was significantly lower, that's for sure.
"I'm not even going to ask." I sighed as Allison pulled me to my feet, she then helped Scott and I make our way out of the restroom. It then occurred to me that Stiles was nowhere to be found, and the thought caused an involuntary outbreak of panic to be let loose inside of me. My eyes wandered around the bus, but for some reason everyone was gathered around a tree and they were shouting things.
I blinked rapidly as Lydia popped out of nowhere, "Are they okay?"
"Stiles. Where's Stiles?" I asked her quickly.
She sighed, "Trying to get the bus to stay put."
"Lydia help her," Allison ordered as she struggled to keep Scott and I both upright. Lydia slung a red lacrosse bag over her shoulder and wrapped her arm around my lower back to keep me steady.
"The car is out of gas. So I have no idea how to get out of here unless we get on the bus and just leave the car." The strawberry blond muttered as we made our way towards the group of people.
Allison nodded, "Sounds like a plan."
"That wasn't actually a viable option..." Lydia sighed as I pushed away from her, stumbled right into Stiles. His arms wrapped around me protectively as I let out a sigh of relief. I couldn't care less about what was happening behind him at the moment.
Scott on the other hand obviously wanted to know, "What's going on?"
"I told them about what happened, and well... he just attacked him." Stiles breathed our as his grip around my shoulder's tightened.
"Who Boyd?" Scott panicked, I couldn't see him but I knew he was pushing his way through the crowd. I quickly pulled my face out of the cotton fabric of Stiles' jacket to watch my brother with wide eyes, it wasn't Boyd that had gotten in a fight. It was Isaac.
And he was literally beating the crap out of Ethan, like we're talking full on bloody nose and everything. How Isaac managed to get the jump on a freaking ALPHA is beyond me, but Ethan is definitely not doing so hot in the fight right now. It took every ounce of self-will I had in me to not start cheering for Isaac.
"ISAAC!" Scott shouted, his voice scaring the living crap out of me. I've never heard Scott get that demanding before.
I have no idea why Isaac just completely stopped wailing on Ethan and looked to my brother with a bit of guilt covering his face, but it made me wonder just how close they truly were. It was like Isaac answered to my brother, and it was weird. Like, we're talking Christian Grey and Anastasia Steel weird.
Coach Finstock sighed, "Alright everybody back on the bus."
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i'm gonna apologize now for the load of shit that this chapter is. i'm sorry. like, really sorry. you've all been waiting and then you get this piece of poop. i've been busy like crazy that past two weeks but finally homecoming and all of that jazz is over so i now have a lot more free time to write, thank god. the updates will be more frequent now, i promise.
again i apolize for the high levels of shit this chapter is.
fan, vote, and comment? xxxx