Beyond The Bite(Sterek fanfiction)(M/M)

Chapter 1

Beyond The Bite • Chapter 1
(Word Count: 1,954)

Admitting one's shortcomings isn't a sign of weakness; it's an acknowledgment of reality. And the reality for me is stark: I am the vulnerable outlier in a group defined by raw animalistic vigor. Claws and fangs? Nonexistent. My arsenal? Sardonic wit and a bat that, frankly, is more ornamental than functional.

Make no mistake: this is not self-pity. It's stating the inevitable truth of my existence.

I'm just Stiles—the scrawny, unarmed, yet unyielding link in our chain. And all I could do was run...

... Until I couldn't even do that.

"Stiles!"

At the echo of my name, my eyelids fluttered open, my mind reeling from the sharp sting of moonlight piercing my senses. Blinding, disorienting—but as the overwhelming chaos crescendoed around me, grunts and arrow heads flying converged with the pungent odors of dust, sweat, and blood, catalyzing a jolt of clarity.

Fully alert, I registered the scene unraveling beyond the haze of my consciousness: Scott, locked in combat with Deucalion; Isaac and Allison, entwined in their ferocious dance with the twins, Aiden and Ethan.

"Stiles! We have to go—now!" Malia's voice echoed urgently off the cavernous walls, aggravating the throbbing in my head.

"What's happened?" I rasped, my hand instinctively moving to the back of my skull, only to withdraw, stained with blood.

Damnit, I must have gotten myself knocked out.

"Come on. We need to get you out of here." Malia's voice cut through the echoes of growls and the whistling of arrows. She helped me stand, and together we hurried towards my jeep.

"Derek... We have to warn him. Jennifer might already be at the loft and Kali is missing." I said, the persistent ache in my head making it hard to focus.

Malia nodded sharply, grasping my arm as we quickened our pace away from the ongoing turmoil.

•

"He's not answering." I worried, hearing Derek's voicemail greeting for the fifth time.

Urged by concern, Malia pressed down harder on the accelerator, Roscoe protesting with a strained whine.

•

With a quick yank of the handbrake, Malia brought the jeep to a halt. As I reached to unbuckle my seatbelt, a warm hand enveloped mine. I raised my eyes to Malia's.

"Stiles—"

"I'm okay," I said, attempting to sound convincing, but Malia's expression remained skeptical.

"You've been hurt. You need to stay put. Derek and I will handle this."

"But—"

"Please, Stiles." Her voice was firm, her hand tightening around mine, eyes laden with worry.

I exhaled, surrendering with a nod.

"If we're not back in thirty minutes, call Scott, okay?"

I silently nodded and watched as Malia dashed toward the loft and vanished behind its metallic doors.

The longer I stayed put, while everyone else was fighting while I took refuge, the more I felt like a coward and weakling.

I despised feeling so helpless. What's the use of intelligence and wit if I'm unable to defend myself amidst a town riddled with supernatural occurrences? I'm such an idiot.