A/N: Isanny! Berica! Shippy ship ship! Slight angst... Hehe.
"This is going to end terribly. Do you know how high the death rate could be? Complete destruction all in one game." Stiles rubbed a hand down his face with a groan.
"Everyone's gonna be here...What do we do?" Scott sighed.
"I feel helpless, Scott. I felt helpless that night, just watching, paralysed as Matt knocked out my dad...You and I...We're losing the fight." It felt good to get it off his chest. Felt good to have Scott talking to him again like semi-normal. Nothing was normal anymore.
"Stilinski! You're up!" Stiles perked up in surprise, eyes flickering about before landing on Coach.
"What?"
"Greenberg's out for the count. Wimp."
"S-So I'm in? Really?!" Stiles was ecstatic. Some normal good in the past crazy month.
"He sucks. You suck slightly less." Coach patted Stiles back, hauling him into the game. Stiles can hear in the stands as his dad stood up, next to Melissa, and cheered. For once, he was making his dad proud by being normal. If only for a game.
Scott's pocket buzzed as he sat out, taking out his phone and answering with a gulp.
"Scott." Gerard spoke. "When the clock counts down to the end of the game, someone will die, Scott. I will have Jackson transform into the Kanima and kill someone at random, unless you give me Derek's whereabouts." Scott's mouth was dry, unable to speak as he looked around for Gerard.
"It could be anyone, Scott, Mommy dearest..." Scott's eyes zoned in on his mother, heart pounding. "Sheriff Stilinski..." He was right besides Melissa. "And little miss popular, Lydia Martin." Lydia has just settled down besides John as Gerard sat by Melissa with a polite smile, even as she shifted away from him the slightest bit.
"Or maybe I'll kill off the Coach. He's a truly ridiculous man." Gerard said with pure irritation. Scott couldn't help but look at Coach who was blowing his whistle and yelling, but it was all a pleasant buzz in his ears as he slowly pulled the phone from his ear and hung up.
What the hell was he gonna do?
Just as he hung up, Stiles head snapped towards the woods as the softest echo of a howl called to him, stomach churning in pre-warning of the worst about to happen.
He ignored it and hoped to god it was a false alarm.
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Peter groaned as he stood once more from being thrown around like a rag doll, facing his nephew as he picked a splinter out of his shoulder with a hiss.
"I'm not healing as fast as I used to...The result of how much my resurrection sapped my strength. Another reason why I'm here, Derek. I need a pack, specifically a Alpha, even if it is the boy who killed me. We need each other, Derek. You for Stiles, and me for information. I'm sure you'd love some help on your Kanima problem."
Derek paused, and Peter smirked. Baited, hooked and reeled in.
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Erica and Boyd hadn't been this breathless in weeks, hand in hand as they ran desperately. They never should have went alone - never should have gone in the first place. They should have listened to Derek, talked to Stiles. They should have known that hunters would be behind this - but they hadn't, and now they were on the run more than ever.
Erica slammed her knees to the forest floor with a gasped scream, holding her bleeding thigh where an arrow protruded.
"Erica!" Boyd kneeled by her, unsure of what to do in this dire situation. Did he pull it out? Break it off? Pick her up and run?"
"Boyd, go, go with me." Erica said, pushing him away from her to urge him to go. Boyd stands, conflicted for a few seconds before he squeezed his eyes shut and ran.
Erica grasped her thigh in pain, using her upper body to drag her away from the open area, but she was blinded by the headlights. She choked off a pained whimper when she felt a foot stomp hard onto her calf, walking over her with a bow threateningly in hand.
Allison. She set a safe distance from Erica, almost as if she was bunny and she were the wolf, mocking her. She drew back her bow, set for the kill shot as Erica's squeezed her eyes shut tight, waiting.
A shadow over came the dull orangey glow behind her eyelids and she opened her eyes to find Boyd, arrow snapping in his grasp. He looked furious, eyes glowing a burning gold.
"So be it." Allison whispered with a smirk as she returned the one snapped arrow into six arrows to his chest, leg and stomach. Boyd staggered, growling in pain as he tipped to the side, weak on his knees as Erica held him.
"Stop! Allison, stop it, please!" Erica's begged, willing back tears as her hands twisted in the fabric of Boyd's hoodie.
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"Stop it, please!" Stiles suddenly paused on the field, completely freezing and letting the ball go by him despite his teammates groans and 'what the hell's. He couldn't care less. That was Erica. Erica was begging.
He didn't even think about it, just dropped his stick midfield and threw his helmet off in favour of sprinting towards the bushes. He could hear his father yelling for him, the crowd's loud talk of what was happening as Stiles disappeared into the woods.
He completely wolfed out once he was out of sight, eyes shining a brilliant deep red and fangs out threateningly as he ran towards Erica's - and Boyd's - scent.
He can still hear the two, Boyd's pained growling and Erica's soft stifled sobs before he burst through the trees, rolling and stopping in front of his two betas. He'd never felt more murderous than he did right then, Boyd's body partially collapsed back into Erica's as she held him, his body filled with arrows.
He snapped his head to the archer just as they drew back for their seventh shot, stilling when he saw Allison's flawless features and inky hair. He almost let himself get shot because she was his friend, but then the bow flies out of her hand. The moment the weapon was out of hand, Stiles turned to his betas, covering them almost like a protective mother wolf - honestly, not far off.
His eyes flashed red back at Allison, burning hatred curling in his gut at her actions towards his pack members, before Erica's whimper drew him back. His tongue felt like a log in his mouth, ignoring the hunters in favour of pulling the arrow out of Erica's's thigh and easing the arrows out of Boyd's flesh, ruining the holey hoodie with blood as he nosed their temples to comfort them.
He felt more wolf than human - not violent or feral, but maternal and protective. Stiles never really had the dark desire to kill, and maybe that was it. Maybe that was why he never could kill as a wolf unless dire. He can see the gratefulness in Erica and Boyd's eyes, both clutching each other's hands like it would be a crime to separate.
"You owe me a new bow."
"You owe me an explaination."
"I caught them." Allison said haughtily.
"Caught nearly became kill, and that is not the way we operate." Chris scolded his daughter.
"My way worked out pretty well." She said defiantly, throwing up her hand rudely as she called Gerard. "I caught the two runaways and the Alpha. I'll see you soon, Grandpa." She was on Gerard's side of all things?
"You aren't like this, Allison." Stiles looked at her sadly, eyes brown once more as he stood.
"Well now I am." She responded coolly. Stiles could only growl at her.
"Erica, Boyd. Run." Stiles ordered.
"What about..."
"I said, RUN!" He roared, echoing through the trees as his betas stood and disappeared into the night, Stiles claws sinking onto the next hunters shoulder as quick as possible.
Distraction was his best weapon.
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Isaac breathed in quickly, crawling along the locker room floor in hurry to get away from Gerard and the two strange hunters he didn't know. All he knew was that he was terrified.
"You know...This situation would be much more poetic if it were half-time." Gerard taunted. Isaac knows he's toying with him, scraping the sword slowly across the floor as he came closer, just to watch as the shiver travelled through his body. This was worse than any beating from his father - at least he knew he couldn't die back then.
Isaac grasped up at the sink, using it as support as he stood weakly, leg still healing from the break. Just another moment...Gerard reared back to swing his sword, and all Isaac can do is smirk as he looked behind him.
"What're you..." Gerard tensed as he caught a glimpse in the mirror.
WACK!
Gerard went down like a dead weight, Danny looking down at the body with brows up his forehead and eyes wide. He turned to Isaac, who had jumped on the other two hunters, knocking them unconscious swiftly now that Gerard was out of the way. Danny let out a sigh of relief that they were okay, turning back to Gerard, but he was gone.
He looked back at Isaac in alarm, but Isaac was only smiling in wonder at him. Danny grinned sheepishly.
"I've played more games than lacrosse." He admitted. Suddenly Isaac was on him, hands fisted in his jersey and lips on his. It was harsh and kind of hurt, making Danny laugh and let out a soft 'ow' as Isaac pulled away.
"Sorry." Isaac flushed.
"It's cool. Might wanna be a bit gentler for the first kiss, don't you think?" Danny teased, humming contently as Isaac leaned back in and did so, lips pressed against his softly before pecking them, pulling way.
"Can I take you on a date?" Isaac asked softly, licking his lips, catching to taste of Danny's Gatorade and biting his bottom lip anxiously.
"As long as I don't have to deal with anymore werewolf shenanigans, I'm game." Danny chuckled, barley containing a grin as Isaac nodded and kissed him again, turning the butterflies into tiny fireworks.
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Peter was deep into conversation with Derek, finally having his attention.
"While you and Stiles were trying so hard to build a pack, you both failed and Gerard is winning." Peter explained. "I know how to stop Jackson."
"And by stop, you mean kill." Derek assumed.
"No. I know how to save Jackson." Peter corrected smugly. "You see, there's a myth saying you can cure a werewolf simply by calling out its Christian name. Our names in a large part define our identity."
"It's just a myth, though."
"Sometimes myths and legends bare a hint of truth. Our names are a symbol for who we are. The Kanima has no identity, which is why it doesn't seek a pack. It seeks a master to give it purpose. The human parallel would be an orphaned child..."
"Like Jackson." Derek cursed softly.
"Jacksons identity is being buried underneath the Kanima, and you can bring him back through his heart." Peter continued.
"Unfortunately," Derek pointed out. "Jackson doesn't seem to have much of a heart to begin with."
"That's not true. He actually has a bond with and cares deeply for Lydia." Peter reminded rather cheerfully. "She can save him." Derek scoffed slightly. "Now, now, Derek. Lacking such a heart even with Stiles. This is why you need Stiles more than anyone. You see...Even somebody as burned and dead on the inside as me knows better than to underestimate the simple yet undeniable power of love."
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"Someone's down!" Melissa shouted as the lights came back on on the field, and Scott felt his whole body turn icy cold. Oh god, someone was dead and it was his fault. Only, the person who is down is...Jackson?
"Jackson!" Lydia yelled, horrified as she ran to his side from the stands. Melissa kneeled besides the boy, listening for a heartbeat. Nothing. Melissa pulled up his jersey, revealing deep puncture wounds to his abdomen.
"Lydia, get down here and help me with CPR. Someone call an ambulance!" Melissa called out to whoever would listen.
Scott, Isaac and Danny stood together, looking on in horror as their eyes zoned in on the blood on his hands.
Jackson did this to himself.
36 BITES