Yours (Stiles Stilinski)

Chapter Thirty

"Wake up!" I heard Scott yell, and I felt a cold cloth cover my face. I sat straight up, hitting Scott in the head with my head. "Ow!" He shouted, falling back on his ass. I groaned, pulling the towel away from my face.

"What the hell, Scott?" I exclaimed. I saw Allison standing at the door. She walked in, handing me a cup of coffee and some painkillers. I smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Allison," I murmured, swallowing the pills. I stood up, helping Scott off the floor.

"It's 12 o clock. You've officially slept for 9 hours, which is the first thing I've seen in six years!" Scott said cheerfully. I glowered at him.

"And you couldn't let me sleep for longer?" I groaned. He shook his head, giving me a once over.

"Nope, you gotta get ready to go. Jackson's in the back of this van, and Allison and I are going out for the day. You and Stiles are on watch duty," he said. I pursed my lips, remembering the night before. I groaned again, putting my head in my hands.

"Jesus, I didn't have that much to drink, did I?" I asked. Scott gave me a look that said I definitely did. "Oh dear god, I'm an idiot," I muttered.  "Alright, alright. Give me 30 minutes." I moved to the bathroom.

"Good, because Stiles will be waiting." I watched my brother give me a smirk, and Allison gave me an apologetic smile as they both left. Just great. I stripped in the bathroom, hopping in the shower, letting the cold water pelt my back. It definitely woke me up. After ten minutes I got out, drying off and putting on some light makeup. I made two cups of coffee, making one iced with half and half. I grabbed my bag, and I threw Stiles' sweatshirt in the laundry before walking outside. Stiles was leaning on the side of his Jeep, typing something on his phone.

"Good morning," I said nervously, offering him the iced coffee. He gave me a small smile.

"Thanks," he said. He opened the passenger door, helping me in. He leaned in the passenger door, his arms leaning over the doorway.

"So, what's the plan today?" I asked. He leaned his head to the side.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. I give him a look. "What?" He said.

"I'm fine, now— plans, speak," I ordered. He sighed, explaining that we had the very boring job of watching Jackson. I nodded, and he looked at me for another moment. I let out a breath. "Stiles, really I'm okay. It's definitely not the first time I've been hungover," I said jokingly. He rolled his eyes, going to hop in the driver's side. I rolled down the window, leaning my head slightly out the window, feeling the wind in my hair. I look back at Stiles for a second to see him glancing at me out of the corners of his eyes. I flushed a bit, and looked back out the window. I don't know if I can do this all day, I thought as we drove.

—

"Jackson?" I say lightly, opening the door to the van. I climbed in, as he groaned something.

"Y/n?" He said. I looked at him with wide eyes. I offered him a blanket and a breakfast sandwich.

"Oh dear, I didn't realize they'd be keeping you like this," I said trying to help him so the seat would be more comfortable. I sat on the ground, criss-cross, in front of him.

"Like a monster?" He snapped. I raised an eyebrow.

"You don't believe them, then?" I asked. He shook his head at me.

"You don't believe them, do you?" He asked incredulously. I sighed, and he groaned.

"Listen, I don't think you're a bad gu— Well actually, in this circumstance, I feel as though you aren't aware that you're the bad guy. I still think you're an asshole though," I said. He nodded, pursing his lips.