Adamantine

Chapter Four

Isaac pulls Thomas off of Scott, holds him back in a tight grip. Thomas finally stops struggling, heart still pounding erratically. He stares unsurely at the boy getting up from the floor in front of him. Scott was just sneering about how Thomas killed his friends, and now he's standing in front of Thomas, holding his hands up defensively and talking in a comforting tone.

"Hey, hey, calm down; there you go." Scott grimaces. "Shit... um, Erica? Go get, like, a towel or something. His hand's bleeding pretty bad."

Thomas glances at his hand. Surely enough, the white gauze is stained red and his knuckles sting deeply. His cuts must've broken open when he was punching Scott.

"Thanks," Scott says once Erica hands him the rag. Scott looks at Thomas, expression unsure, and takes a small step towards him. Thomas tenses, but allows Scott to remove the gauze and replace it with the dishrag. Isaac shifts his grip on Thomas's wrists, but doesn't let go.

"What just happened?" Thomas asks after a moment, voice wavering. Scott glances up for a second before his gaze darts away from Thomas's in favor of looking at the Glader's injured hand.

"I don't know, man. You just...you snapped at us for staring at you, so we all looked away, but you started talking to yourself, and you looked almost..like, betrayed, and you told us to stop. But we weren't even...we didn't even say anything. You just sorta...freaked out."

Scott visibly hesitates. Thomas notices a smudge of blood on Scott's cheek, but no cut. It must be from Thomas's hand, then.

"Then I walked over and asked you what was wrong, and you just tackled me and started wailing on me and yelling."

Erica takes a tentative step forward, conflicting emotions battling for dominance on her face. "Do...should we call Derek? I mean, he only just left."

"No," Thomas says quickly. He's not even annoyed that Isaac said it at the same time, in the same firm tone of voice.

"There's no point in telling him. It's fine," Isaac says, finally letting go of Thomas's wrists and stepping away from the teen.

"...Um, Scott?" That's a new voice.... No, it isn't. I've heard that voice before. Thomas's eyes snaps up towards the stranger, though he keeps his head tilted down. Like with the others, her black curls and striking features seem distantly familiar, and he just wants to slam his head into a wall until his memory block comes toppling down like a Jenga tower.

What the shuck is "Jenga"?

"What's wrong, Allison?" Allison...name fits the face, I guess.

"Maybe we should go see Deaton. That...isn't exactly normal," she says. Wow, that sure makes me feel better, Allison. "Plus, we need to go see him anyway. Weren't you the one saying we should find out what he knows about the Alpha Pack? And why they just up and left?"

Aha! "Alpha Pack"! There it is again!

The look Scott gives Thomas is hesitant, like part of him doesn't want his friend to hear the conversation. Thomas sees an opening. He goes for it.

"Scott, what's 'the Al-"

"Okay, yeah, good idea," he replies to Allison, effectively cutting off Thomas's question. He glowers. "Let me rewrap Stiles's hand, and we'll go."

The group squeezes into Thomas's jeep, Scott at the wheel. It really isn't meant to carry five people at once, but they make it work. Allison sits up front in the passenger seat next to Scott, and Thomas gets crammed in between Erica and Isaac.

Not the most comfortable, and Thomas is starting to sweat from too much body-heat around him (Erica and Isaac are like freaking furnaces, Jesus Christ). He's mentally complaining about how he just wants the day to be over already, even though it can't be past, like, four o'clock yet, when they pull to a stop in some parking lot. Isaac gets out first, then Thomas slides out, and Erica follows after. Allison and Scott are murmuring about something or other, sharing a brief kiss before climbing out their respective sides of the vehicle. Scott walks around the jeep to join the rest of the group. Thomas looks towards the building.