Was this really how he was going to go out?
Was he really going to die because of some bullies being to stupid to realize what they had done?
This was so embarrassing.
He had lived through werewolf attacks and monsters... but he was going to end up a corpse over a few idiot bullies...
They were right... he was pathetic...
How long had he been tied to the lacross goal? Hours at least.
He really had to learn to keep his mouth shut more often. Not that it would help now.
Jackson and his goons had beat the hell out of him.
All of it had started with Jackson saying that there was no reason to have a spastic loser on the team who was only ever good at warming the bench.
Stiles had remarked back that Jackson's money was the only real reason he was still on the team at all.
That had lead to Stiles getting punched in the face. He had fallen hard to the ground. Jackson had kicked him in the stomach and Stiles had tried to fight back even when he had been in huge amounts of pain. If it had only been Jackson he might have wounded the boy enough to escape.
But the other three grabbed him and started raining punches and kicks to his body. All he could do was curl up and try to cover up as much of his vulnerable parts as possible.
He woke up as they dragged him across the grass by his shirt towards the goal. He coughed and spit out blood as his shirt tore off his body and he fell to the cool grass.
Then he heard the sound of duct tape as they grabbed him and hauled him up and duck taped his wrists to the goal top post. He had tried to struggle and yell but they punched him again and then they wrapped the duct tape around his mouth and head to keep his screams muffled.
"No one is going to hear your annoying mouth tonight loser." Jackson spit on his face and then punched his stomach once more.
Wheezing and in pain Stiles could do nothing when Jackson took out a marker and wrote Pathetic Loser on Stiles chest. Then he laughed with his friends and walked off.
His shirt was ripped compeltely off his body so he was half naked as the temperature dropped the later it got.
Stiles had struggled and tried to scream, but they had used lots of duct tape to secure him to the goal and he couldn't really scream with his mouth shut.
So he hoped that someone would come looking for him. Scott would come. Right? They had plans tonight... but what if he was busy with Allison?
Wouldn't his father come looking for him? No... he was on the late shift tonight...
He was stuck until morning. When people would walk onto the field and Jackson would watch as he was cut down and they would all laugh at the pathetic loser.
But they didn't realize that there would be an early tempature drop tonight. Instead of getting down to 67 degrees... it was below freezing. He could tell because the grass was covered in frost. He had been shivering and shaking for hours. It had hurt to be so cold for so long.
Until...
Until it stopped hurting. Until he stopped shaking.
Until he started to get tired.
He knew what was happening. Hypothermia. He... he was dying. His systems were going to start to shut down soon. He would just go to sleep... and never wake up again.
