Running From the Past

Chapter Two

Third Person POV
Stiles was annoyed. Jackson wouldn't shut up about how Stiles' name wasn't Thomas and how he, quoting Jackson exactly 'was a scrawny guy who couldn't hurt a fly', managed to do do much damage to a big ass organization. Stiles truly tried to ignore it but Jackson always found a way under his skin.

"Will you please shut the hell up." Stiles said, halting in his steps to swing around to look at him. "All you're saying is the same shit! Yeah I know I'm scrawny but you know what...I could kick your werewolf ass from here to Alaska without even trying."

"Excuse me? Listen here you little--"

Stiles stepped forward, his fists clenching. "No you listen to me!! I only let you come along because of Scott's protectiveness over the whole pack, which sorry to bust your bubble, includes me! Now if you would rather be somewhere else instead of here with me and my friends, who frankly don't need your fucking help...be my guest. If not...then shut up and follow my lead."

Scott and the others stared at Stiles in surprise as if they've never seen him like this before, when in truth they have. They just never payed any attention.

Stiles spun on his heel and stormed away, Newt and Minho hot on his heels. Stiles didn't regret being honest with Jackson. It was either that or telling the jackass the truth about himself which would sort of infer the term of 'roasting' his ass.

(Don't kill me!😂I had to)

Newt and Minho caught up to Stiles and glanced at each other, a silent agreement passing between them. They were both seriously over-protective of Tommy and no matter what anyone said, to them he was shucking Thomas. Those clanking werewolves who called themselves friends of Tommy's were fools. Or they were fooling themselves.

Stiles walked on, grateful for the silence that Newt and Minho were giving him. It was something that only they understood or knew when he needed it. As they got closer to the road, the sound of car doors slamming shut and voices made Stiles freeze.

"Shit, Tommy. It's them!" Newt exclaimed.

Stiles shook his head and glanced at Minho and Newt before a voice tore through the woods shaking Stiles to the core.

"We know you're in there Thomas! Just come on out so we can talk!" Jansen yelled out. "We don't wanna make this harder than it is but you leave us no choice! We have the girl--"

Stiles' head snapped up and he stopped listening after he said girl. They had Teresa? That was impossible. The last time he saw her she was with the Resistance.

"They have Teresa?!" Stiles hissed.

"Who's Teresa?" Lydia demanded.

Stiles ignored her and crept closer to get a better look. They hadn't been lying. WICKD did have Teresa and for lack of better words...she wasn't looking so hot. She had two bruises on her arms and a busted lip. Stiles swore and if his mother had ever heard him, she would have slapped the taste out of his mouth.

Newt glanced at Stiles and said, "No. Tommy....no."

"Newt, look at her. She's one of us, we can't just leave her! They'll kill her." Stiles protested.

"But Thomas--" Minho started.

"Guys we never leave one of our own behind. Remember that? Minho when you were taken by WICKD did I leave you behind?" Stiles asked him.

Minho shook his head shamefully. "No. You came back for me."

"Exactly. Teresa would do the same for us." Stiles said.

Scott and Derek looked at me. "I don't  think this is a good idea, Stiles. What-ever you're planning, I don't think you should do it."

Stiles glared at them. "Well it's a good thing it's not up to you then." Stiles stood up then and walked out into the open, with his hands held high. "I'm here now let her go."

"What the hell is he doing?" Derek hissed.

Newt and Minho shook their heads and readied themselves for a fight as Stiles continued to walk forward. Jansen smirked and stalked towards him, delivering a punch to his gut when he reached him. Stiles doubled over with a grunt and straightened back up almost immediately, meeting his eyes.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time." Jansen told him. The werewolves' superhearing allowed them to hear the conversation.

Stiles smirked but glared at the man in front of him. "I'm sure you did...you fucking perverted bastard."

Jansen whirled around and backhanded him. Stiles fell to the ground and Lydia gasped as Jansen kicked him in the stomach. Stiles only glared up at him, his nose bleeding heavily. Stiles watched as the man smirked at him and straightened his collar.

"How long do you think you can keep this up, Thomas? An hour? A day? A month? How about a year, yeah? You wouldn't be able to handle the endless torture you'd receive on a daily."

Stiles inclined his head. "You'd be surprised a of the things I'm capable of."

And he lunged forward off the ground, throwing himself at Jansen's waist. Knocking into him, he sent him to the ground and grabbed the gun that was at his hip and pistolwhipped him, knocking him out. Stiles jumped up and turned just as one of the WICKD agents came at him. Stiles raised the gun and fired at the man's leg, shattering his kneecap. He went down screaming and Stiles hit him with the gun before sprinting to Teresa's side.

"Are you okay? Teresa?"

Teresa looked up at him, her big round blue eyes filled with tears and happiness. "Hi Tom."

Short and probably corny too but hope you like it buddy!😀

Dedicated to: GeeklyMe4Ever