SLOWLY BEING REWRITTEN!
People say we're products of our parents. that all of their good traits are passed onto us, that we pick up the bad traits along the way.
But what if our parents have no good traits? What does that make us?
Are we all bad?
K...
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the benefactor
Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski walked into the McCall house with a mission; covering up one of the wolf's biggest mistakes yet. He had done stupid things in the past, that was for sure, but this was the pinnacle of the Alpha's stupidity, it was an impulse decision, one that could cost him his own life if a particular hunter caught wind of what he had done. He didn't know what else to do, so he called the only people he could. The first- Stiles. Scott's heart was still pounding with fear. He had never imagined doing something like this, he'd always thought of himself as fair, he had never thought he would be put in this position, but tonight had put him in it. He was trying to do what he always did- save people. And he had saved someone, two people actually, his mother, a woman attacked by a creature known as a wendigo, a kid named Sean, and Liam Dunbar, a boy he had put into hospital himself. But with saving Liam came a great consequence.
When he saw the fifteen-year-old clinging on for dear life, seconds away from falling from a roof, what else was he supposed to do? He saved him. Through the bite. Now, his head was reeling, he may have just claimed his first beta werewolf since becoming an Alpha. Something he had never had the intention of doing, especially not after Araya's threat in Mexico. Kinsey's words repeated in his head, how severely Araya followed the code, how she was someone to be scared of. Now, it was a reality, and he was petrified.
"What did you do with him anyway?" Stiles Stilinski asked as he followed his best friend through the house.
Scott stopped at the bottom of the stairs, biting his lip as he thought of an answer. "He's... lying down." He answered, Stiles retorting with a furrowed brow.
The wolf had led him to his bathroom, stopping at the door, that was his first sign that this would be bad, not as bad as when he'd seen the reality. Stiles pulled back the shower curtain to see the freshman tied up in Scott's bathtub with duct tape across his mouth, his wrists taped to his chest restricting most of his movement. Liam looked like a dear in headlights as he scrambled around the bathtub, looking between Scott and Stiles. A muffled plead for help. Stiles didn't say a word, he wasn't sure there were any words to say to his best friend when he had bitten a fifteen-year-old boy and was now holding him hostage in his bathtub. That kind of reassurance just wasn't in his vocabulary.
Shell-shocked, the two sat down on the end of Scott's bed. Stiles needed time to process it what he had just seen, and Scott to process what he had just done. He would need all of the details if they were going to get through this with as little trouble as possible, though Stiles wasn't sure if that was entirely possible. Neither of them had ever seen the bite from this perspective before, a perspective where one of them were the one who had given it, not received it.
Stiles started off by reiterating what Scott had told him, asking questions. Scott had bitten Liam. Scott had then kidnapped Liam. And then he had brought him here, to his home, where his mom lived, a nurse. He panicked, Scott told his best friend, trying to justify his actions, but he knew it was stupid to have done any of it. The bite. The kidnapping. Any of it. Stiles couldn't help but ask if this would end with the two of them burying pieces of the teenagers body in the desert, he had clearly asked a little too loudly based on the muffled cries from the bathroom.
