-DISCLAIMER-
I do NOT own Teen Wolf
So, this is the final chapter for season one! I love season one, but I'm so happy to be done with it!
Comment, vote, fan, and let me know what you're thinking!
Question of the Chapter: Who (other than Scott and Derek) was your favorite werewolf in the series?
Thank you for 100 votes!
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As soon as Stiles had said that he knew who started the fires, he took off down the hallway, leaving me to realize that I should follow him.
We were rushing towards the exit, when Jackson was suddenly beside us, "Hey, where are you two going?"
"To find Scott," Stiles replied, not slowing down at all.
Jackson, apparently, wasn't giving up either. "But you don't have a car."
"Really?" I said sarcastically. "Do you think if we had a car, we would've ran to the hospital, Jackson? I don't!"
"Here, I'll drive." Jackson offered. What was he playing at? "Come on . . ."
He grabbed Stiles's shoulder, but not a second later, the boy spun on him, throwing the star athlete's hand off of him.
"Look, just because you feel guilty all of a sudden doesn't make it okay, all right? Half of this is your fault."
The other boy took a deep breath, growing irritated with Stiles. "Look, I have a car. You don't. Do you want my help or not?"
Stiles and I looked at each other, his eyes asking what I think we should do.
I sighed lightly, "I vote yes. I'm sorry, but I'm not running again. My feet are too sore."
Stiles jaw stiffened a little at the idea of having Jackson help us, but he nodded anyway. "All right. Did you bring the Porsche?"
Jackson rifled through his pocket for the keys, "Yeah."
"Good," Stiles stated, snatching the keys away from him. "I'll drive."
We went to leave, when we came face to face with one of the last people we wanted to see right then.
Chris Argent; accompanied by two of his hunting partners.
"Boys. Riley. I was wondering if you can tell me where Scott McCall is."
God, could we never catch a break?
"Scott McCall?" Stiles replied calmly. "Um . . . Haven't seen him since the dance."
Mr Argent nodded once, humming. He didn't believe us. He couldn't.
"Riley?" Stiles asked, turning to me.
I shrugged, shaking my head. "Same here. Saw him at the dance, and haven't seen him since." I then turned to the other boy, "Jackson, what about you?"
Mr Argent glanced over at him, waiting for an answer. Unfortunately, Jackson didn't do well under pressure; which really contradicted the fact that he plays lacrosse under pressure all the time. Jackson just stood there, stuttering, not even getting out one word.
I let my head fall back, and Stiles bit his lip, "Oh, for the love of God."
Argent's two hunters grabbed the three of us and threw us into an empty hospital room. All three of us slammed into the bed, groaning in pain.
The door was then locked, and Argent turned to look at us. "Let's try this again. Where is Scott McCall?" He growled.
When none of us spoke, Argent walked over, grabbed Stiles by his shirt, and threw him up against some cabinets.
"Stiles!" I cried out. I attempted to run over to help him, but one of the hunters grabbed onto my arm, pulling me back and not allowing me to move.
The other hunter grabbed a hold of Jackson, just to be sure that he wouldn't try anything either.
Stiles looked at me and shook his head a little, telling me not to do anything.
"Let me ask you a question, Stiles," Argent hissed. "Have you ever seen a rabid dog?"
He shook his head, "No. I could put it on my to-do list if you just let me go."
I couldn't believe he was still managing to be that sarcastic, even when a guy was threatening him.
Actually, I could.
"Well I have," Argent continued, basically ignoring Stiles' comment, "And the only thing I've ever been able to compare it to is seeing a friend of mine turn on a full moon. Do you want to know what happened?"
"Not really. No offense to your storytelling skills."
"He tried to kill me, and I was forced to put a bullet in his head," Argent prodded a finger against Stiles' head, emphasizing his story. "The whole while that he lay there dying, he was still trying to claw his way toward me, still trying to kill me, like it was the most important thing he could do with his last breath. Can you imagine that?"
Stiles shook his head, breathing deeply. "No. And it sounds like you need to be a little more selective . . ."
Argent slammed a hand on the cabinet on either side of the the boy's head, cutting Stiles's comment short.
"Did Scott try to kill you or Riley on the full moon?" His voice was rising in irritation, "Did you have to lock him up?"
"Yeah, I did," Stiles said quickly. "I had to handcuff him to a radiator. Why? Would you prefer I locked him in the basement and burned the whole house down around him?"
Argent raised a hand, then covered his mouth, chuckling humorlessly. He kept one hand on the boy, looking at us all in turn, before centering back in on Stiles.
"I hate to dispel a popular rumor, Stiles, but we never did that."
"Oh, right. Derek said you had a code." Stiles face was firm and emotionless, trying not to show that he was freaking out. "I guess no one ever breaks it."
"Never," Argent murmured.
"What if someone does?"
This comment caught Argent's attention, dragging his gaze back to the boy he had pinned to the cabinets. "Someone like who?"
Stiles was trying not to smirk, knowing full well that he had figured it out before anyone else. "Your sister."
I almost wanted to laugh, annoyed that I hadn't realized sooner.
Kate. Of course it was Kate. She's literally the only female hunter in town hell bent on finding the Alpha. The Sheriff's information about it being a girl must have helped Stiles fill in the missing pieces.
Argent looked at his two goons, nodded, and then walked out the door, leaving the three of us in the dark, silent room.
"He's going to go after her," I said after a minute.
Stiles pulled Jackson's keys out of his pocket, "Then we need to get to Scott. Right now."
♡♢♤♧
Stiles turned a sharp corner, the tires of the Porsche pushing up a lot of dirt and dust. I grabbed tightly onto my seat belt, trying not to slide around the back seat too much.
That's right, even when we're not in the Jeep, I'm still stuck in the back. I should've brought my own car.
Oh, my God, my car was still at the school. One problem at a time, I guess.
"Hey, hey, hey," Jackson shouted at Stiles, who was behind the wheel, just like he said he would be. "This isn't exactly an all-terrain vehicle."
Stiles didn't bother looking at him, just kept his eyes on the road so as not to drive us directly into a tree. "Yeah? Did you pay for it?"
He was quiet for a moment, but then he sighed and replied quietly, "No."
"Then stop complaining and shut up," I hissed, annoyed that he's spitting the dummy about his precious car, while Scott could be dying.
Stiles smiled in the rear view mirror at me, causing me to blush, and revved the engine as he sped up the car.
Less than two minutes later we arrived at the Hale house. Scott was on the ground, Allison was kneeling beside her father who was out cold, and Kate was nowhere to be seen.
I thought she would be here. But, if she wasn't here, then where would she be? Then I saw the Alpha, and that made me realize I couldn't give two shits where Kate was at that moment.
The Alpha stood tall, his giant fangs protruding from his mouth, and his red eyes almost glowing in the dark of the night. What in the actual hell. What had our lives come to?
Stiles pulled to a halt, almost giving me whiplash. He honked the horn, and we all quickly climbed out of the car.
The sound of the horn had caught the attention of the Alpha, pulling his gaze away from Scott, who I now saw was in his full werewolf form, and staring at us.
"Now, Stiles!" I yelled.
He nodded, held his arm back, and then swung, sending the object in his hand hurdling through the air.
We had found the time to make self-igniting Molotov cocktails, just like the one that Lydia had wanted to make the night we were trapped in the school.
However, this time, we used the correct ingredients. Not that the last time was Lydia's fault in any way.
The Alpha caught the corked bottle with ease, growling angrily in our direction.
"Oh, damn," Stiles muttered, disappointed that his idea hadn't exactly gone as planned.
I looked around for something to use as a weapon to defend myself, but it was hard to see anything with how dark it was.
Suddenly, Scott shouted Allison's name, which actually made all of us look at him. Scott picked up Allison's bow which lay near him, and threw it over to his ex-girlfriend.
She caught it and strung up an arrow, aiming at the Alpha who was growling again. He was beginning to walk towards Allison, but her ease with a bow outmatched his pace.
The Alpha held the hand containing the Molotov cocktail up behind his head with every intention of throwing it directly at Allison.
Unfortunately, for the Alpha, Allison was prepared. An arrow whistled through the air, before hitting its mark. The glass smashed and the cocktail ignited. Within seconds, the Alpha's arm was engulfed in flames.
He shook wildly, trying to put the flames out, but to no avail.
I then remembered that we had more ammo. "Jackson, throw it, hurry up!"
His mouth had fallen open in shock of seeing the Alpha like that, but then shut as he aimed the beaker. With the precision he had learnt from lacrosse, the Molotov cocktail Jackson had previously been holding slammed directly into the Alpha's chest.
It howled in agony as the second cocktail ignited and spread across his entire body. This was definitely a sight to see. The Alpha wouldn't stop growling, and we all remained still, unsure of how to proceed.
The Alpha, however, did not remain still. He started barrelling towards Allison, most likely planning on killing her.
"No!" Scott screamed. He ran as fast as he could, and then round-housed the Alpha in the chest, causing it to tumble to the forest floor, grunting as it did so.
He kept trying to remain standing, but the fire was just becoming too much. The Alpha collapsed to its knees.
Suddenly, he was in human form, gagging as his non-supernatural body tried to cope with the mass amounts of burns.
Peter's whole entire body was red raw with burns, his skin half melted off everywhere, charred on all edges.
The noises wouldn't stop, both from the man and the leaves that were crackling from the fire from his body. He crumpled to the ground, his chest rising and falling quickly.
We all had let out sighs of relief. We had managed to take down the Alpha. We defeated the big, bad wolf.
I wonder if the three little pigs ever considered using self-igniting Molotov cocktails and bow and arrows?
They should've, it worked pretty well.
I felt something squeeze my hand, and looked down to realize that Stiles and I were holding hands. I didn't even remember grabbing his hand.
Allison walked over to Scott, kneeling down to be beside him. He looked unsure, and so did she. She placed a hand on his face and kissed him.
I smiled, happy that they were finally back together. Not only had Scott been fairly annoying when they weren't together, but it didn't feel the same with them apart. It was nice to see them together again.
They were talking now, and I looked at Stiles, to see him grinning also. His friend was happy, and that made him happy.
They were both smiling, so I could only assume that the conversation had went well.
Scott's eyes drifted away from Allison, and curiously, mine followed. Mr. Argent was staring at them, and did not appear to be too happy about what was happening.
Leaves began crunching, and I wondered who was walking. Turning my head around, I saw Derek walking towards his uncle. Peter was still on the ground, his chest rising and falling slowly, trying to get air into his lungs.
Derek moved closer, eyes full of intent. I squeezed Stiles's hand tighter, worried about what was about to happen.
This didn't look like it was going to end well.
The Beta knelt down beside his burned uncle, jaw set as he glared down at him.
"Wait!" Scott shouted, climbing to his feet quickly. "You said the cure comes from the one who bit you."
His voice was full of panic and anxiety, trying his best to get Derek to rethink what he wanted to do. The man shut his eyes, considering what he had originally told Scott, how he said he would help him.
Allison and her father stood off to the side watching, Stiles and I hand-in-hand, and Jackson beside his car. No one knew how to help.
What could we do to intervene between three werewolves? Not much.
Scott gave him a minute, before speaking again. "Derek. If you do this, I'm dead."
I felt like that was a bit of an overreaction on Scott's behalf, but he was probably just embellishing in order to convince Derek.
Derek still wasn't replying, just continuing to stare down at his uncle.
"Her father, her family . . . What am I supposed to do?"
I moved closer to Stiles, the night air finally beginning to take effect. It didn't help that the dress I was wearing wasn't exactly a winter outfit.
Stiles looked down at me, and I up at him. His eyes were wide with worry; what was Derek going to do?
None of us knew.
None of us, but Peter.
"You've already," He pushed out between pained breaths, "Decided. I can smell it on you!"
I could see Peter's eyes shine a red as deep as his wounds from where I stood. Whenever I saw them, it took me back to that night in the school, when I wasn't sure we would make it out. But, now look at us; we made it.
Derek raised his hand into the air, claws bared.
"Wait! No, no! Don't!" Scott shouted, starting to move towards Derek.
But he just wasn't fast enough.
Derek swung his arm down, dragging his claws through the flesh at Peter's throat, thoroughly slitting it. Peter gurgled and choked on his own blood, trying to breathe as the color began to fade from his eyes.
I took a step back in shock, gasping like Peter, breathing in the cool air. Derek had killed Peter. He had actually killed him.
What was Scott supposed to do now? Derek had said that the only way to cure the bite was to kill the one who bit you, but Derek killed Peter instead.
I wanted to ask Stiles what he thought would happen, but I couldn't produce any words.
Derek stood up slowly, raising his head to look at Scott. His eyes shifted from their original blue, to the blood red that Peter had previously worn.
"I'm the Alpha now," He growled.
We all just stood there, unsure of what to do or say. All we could do was stand and watch.
♡♢♤♧
We drove back to the school in the Porsche in silence. Jackson didn't seem to care that Stiles wanted to drive again. He seemed more annoyed that he wasn't going to be able to get Peter to change him.
Once we finally got there, Stiles and I got out, and Jackson slid over into the driver's seat and drove away without a word.
We walked over to my car and climbed in, me in the driver's seat. I swear the only time I'm not stuck in the back seat, is when I'm in my own car.
"So . . . That was . . ." Stiles said.
I nodded slowly as I started the engine, pulling out of the school's parking lot. "Yeah, it was."
His eyes found me, but mine remained on the road. "Are you doing okay? You were threatened a lot of times in one night."
He was right, but I wasn't fazed, chuckling a little to show him. "It's not like that's not a regular thing these days, though, is it?"
"I guess not," He sighed. "Are you sure you're okay?"
No, I wasn't sure. I wouldn't be okay until I told him. It was eating me up inside. But, that's not something you can just blurt out. Especially to your best friend and especially after you both just witnessed a murder.
"Yeah," I smiled, trying to appear like what I had said. "I'll be fine, I just need a nap or something. Thanks for protecting me the whole night, though. You're my hero."
Stiles laughed, his eyes lighting up. I looked at him in the rearview mirror, smiling to myself.
We arrived at Stiles' house, and I parked in the driveway. Stiles said goodbye and got out of the car, heading to his door.
I went to leave, but then stopped myself. Shutting my car off, I took the keys out and ran over to Stiles, reaching him just before he went to put the key into the door.
His eyes were wide, looking at me in confusion. "Did something happen? Are you okay?"
"Something did happen, but not right this second," I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. "I never asked if you were okay."
Stiles blinked a couple of times, not sure where my words were coming from, but he answered anyway.
"I'm fine. I mean, Scott's still a werewolf, my dad still doesn't know anything, Lydia's in hospital, but you know; I'm good."
I inspected his face for a moment, searching for something. I was hoping to find nothing when he mentioned Lydia, but if I'm honest, I couldn't tell.
"Why do you do that to yourself?"
Now he was confused. Again. "What do you mean?"
"With Lydia," I groaned. "She doesn't like you, yet you insist on pining after her. No offence, but it's exhausting."
Stiles ran a hand through his hair. "It's not like it's something you choose, you know? When you like someone, you don't just stop because it becomes too hard. You keep going until you're lucky enough that they see you. That maybe one day, they'll see you the way you see them. It's something worth waiting for. Does that make any sense?"
Yes. It made perfect sense. He was right. He was so right, he didn't even realize how right he was.
But was I brave enough to take that step? To show him how I felt, and to see if he felt the same way.
"How do you tell someone that you have feelings for them, though?" I asked quietly.
Stiles laughed, "If I knew that, do you honestly think I would still be at this stage?"
"I guess not," I replied, trying not to appear disappointed. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah, see you tomorrow."
He wrapped me in a hug, and I never wanted to leave his arms. It made me feel safe, like nothing in the world could possibly reach me.
Retracting his arms, he gave a small wave and turned to his front door. I got halfway to my car when I stopped in my tracks.
What am I doing?
I spun on my heel, looking directly at the boy who was still trying to get his door open. "Stiles," I said just loud enough that he was able to hear me.
He lifted his eyes from the doorknob, his eyebrows creasing. "Yeah?"
"How do you know if they'll feel the same?"
He chewed his lip in thought, dropping his hands by his sides. "You don't, but that's the beauty of it, I guess. Why?"
Beauty. Such a fragile, yet meaningful, word. But, when the guy you like is thinking of another girl while saying something as beautiful as what Stiles' had said, it just hurts.
Tears brimmed around my eyes, and I choked back a sob. What if he never felt the way I did?
"No reason," I managed to get out. "I-um, I have to go now. Sorry for keeping you."
His eyes narrowed in confusion. "Riley? Are you sure you're okay?"
I sucked in a breath, realizing that he wasn't actually that far away, and could probably see I was on the verge of tears. It was probably just the pain from my wrist finally hitting.
I attempted to laugh to throw any suspicion, but it sounded so pathetic. "Yeah, of course. I'll see you at school."
Before he could say another word against what I had said, I got into my car and began to drive away.
A few tears fell as I drove, steadily making their way down my face. But I wasn't about to cry my eyes out over a boy again this year. I just wanted to get home and drown my sorrows in ice cream.
Arriving at my house, I parked in the driveway and went straight into my house, heading for the kitchen. It didn't look like my mum was home, thankfully. I didn't want to have to explain to her why my mascara was smudged.
Reaching into the freezer, I pulled out a tub of ice cream. The action allowed me to notice the gauze still wrapped around my wrist.
My breathing slowed as I placed the tub on the bench and slowly began to unwrap the bandage.
Almost falling over, my breath hitched in my throat.
They were gone.
The deep claw marks from Peter were completely gone.