Bullet Proof

Alternate Ending

The bright sunlight burned through my closed eyelids, waking me up by bringing discomfort to my eyes. Slowly, I turned away from the bright light and opened my eyes, blinking a couple times to get rid of the blurriness.

My belongings were around me; My shoes, dirty clothes basket, my desk. I was resting on my bed. The memories from the past event came back. Us winning the fight, Stiles coming back from Virginia, and me getting shot and falling unconscious.

Instantly, I dragged myself up and into a sitting position. I placed my hand on my neck, not feeling any form or proof of injury. Pulling my hand away, I checked for blood, there wasn't any.

"Oh my god." I heard a sigh of relief from the corner of my room. Stiles.

"Stiles? What's going on?" I asked as he covered his mouth with his hands, his eyes filled with tears. I pushed myself off the bed and carefully walked his way.

"Scott." He whispered.

"What?" I furrowed my eyebrows together.

Fast and heavy footsteps stomped up the steps in my house and down the hallway. Scott came into view and stopped in my doorway.

"You're okay." Scott smiled, a look of relief shown on his face.

"Yeah," I smiled at him, still confused, "I guess so. Although, I would like to know why there isn't stitches in my neck closing the wound that I got at the hospital - "

I stumbled backwards as Stiles practically tackled me into a hug. His arms wrapped around me tightly. One of his arms snaked it's way around my shoulders while the other arm found itself on the back of my head, grabbing onto a fistful of my hair. I wrapped my arms around my brother.

"I thought you were dead." He whispered in my ear.

"I'm right here, Stiles." I whispered back. Stiles pulled away and left a kiss on my forehead. He wiped off the tears that rolled down his face.

Scott gave me a brief hug, leaving a kiss at my temple. I looked at him, "Why am I not dead? I got shot in the neck." I questioned the two boys in front of me.

Scott looked at Stiles, who nodded, "You were dead," Scott sighed, "Kind of." he corrected.

"What?" I breathed out.

"When we got to the hospital, you were laying in a pool of your own blood," Stiles relived the memory, "Scott heard a very faint heartbeat so dad and I brought you home."

"Okay?"

Stiles and Scott looked at each other, as if they didn't know how to continue. I looked at Melissa who stared at her feet, nervous.

"I gave you the bite." Scott confessed.

"What?" I angrily asked.

"The bite is a gift, Jaylen."

"No, cut the Derek speech bullshit. You knew I didn't want to be a werewolf."

"It was either you become a werewolf, or dad and I plan your funeral." Stiles butted in, his voice trembled.

I took a step back to process the new information. I was dead, almost. Being a werewolf is better than laying in a coffin six feet under while my friends and family live on in pain without me. I looked at Scott and threw myself at him and cried into his neck.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, "Thank you for saving my life." He nodded as he rubbed my back.

I wiped my face as I backed up, using my shirt as a napkin. The shirt I was wearing was different, it wasn't the shirt I was wearing in the hospital.