Agony ☾Stilinski

16; Gasoline

Scott grunted and pushed himself up, glaring at the security guard as he leaned against the lockers.

The guard gave him a sadistic grin, flicking open his lighter and waving it in front of his face, taunting him.

All of the sudden the music stopped, Scott's eyes glowing red as his mind was clear again. He grabbed the guards wrist, closing the lighter and twisting, hearing bones crack.

Braeden hit the guard with the bottom of her gun, Derek moving past her to help fend off the other guards that were swarming in.

They worked together to knock the guards unconscious, finishing off the final one as he reached for his lighter.

"What happened to the gun?" Scott breathed, using the lockers as leverage to push himself up.

"You're covered in gasoline." Derek pointed out, raising his eyebrow.

"Oh yeah." Scott took Derek's outstretched hand, the older man smacking his arm as he stood. "We're gonna be okay, but Rowan-"

Braeden knelt down next to her, her fingers pressing on her neck. She looked up at Scott and Derek, giving them a nod. "She has a pulse. Let's just get her out of here."

● ● ●

"I'm completely and totally fine."

"Uh, uh, uh." Melissa stepped in front of him, grabbing his shoulders and turning him around. "You completely and totally have a concussion. You need to lie down, the doctor said you're not leaving without a CT scan."

"We still haven't paid for the last one." Stiles pointed out as she pushed him down the hall, surprisingly strong for such a small woman.

"Meredith is at the station, your dad said it could take some time but he will get her to talk." She stopped in front of one of the rooms and gestured towards the door, but Stiles didn't move. "Even if I let you go, what would you do?"

"Okay, fine." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. She went to open the door but he stepped in front of her. "Can you do me one little favor? Can you get me a tape player?"

"Like cassettes?"

"Yes, tapes." Stiles repeated, growing a little irritated. The last thing he wanted to do was sit helplessly in a hospital room, doing absolutely nothing. The tape he took from Brunski felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket, and he needed to listen to it.

"I'll see what I can do, but in the meantime you need to stay here." Melissa ordered, opening up the door and waving him in. "Cheer up, I got you a cute roommate."

He gave her a confused look, but she was already walking down the hall before she could elaborate. He shook his head and went in, just as the door to the bathroom opened.

"I swear, I've washed my hair five times and it still smells like gasoline." Rowan looked up as she was rubbing her hair with a towel, a small smile on her face. "Oh, hi. I thought you were Melissa."

"What are you doing here?" Stiles asked, watching her pull at the neck of her gray sweatshirt and sit on one of the beds.

"In addition to being doused in gasoline," She chuckled darkly, rubbing her face. "I also got a concussion. Why are you here?"

"Concussion." Stiles pointed to his own head, giving her a shrug. "Brunski punched me in the face, turns out he was a serial killer."

"That guy gave me creeps." Rowan shivered, but it was more from the chill of the hospital than from uneasiness. "The security guards at the bonfire tried to light us all on fire, and one of them knocked me out."

"Kinda glad I didn't go, seems like it wasn't very fun." He shook his head, biting down on the inside of his bottom lip to keep from laughing. Rowan couldn't contain herself, laughter escaping her lips and setting Stiles off as well.

"We both almost died," She snorted, taking sharp breaths between laughing. "And we're laughing about it."

Stiles wiped at his eyes and sat next to her, still chuckling lightly. "Seriously, are you okay though?"

"Yeah, I think so." Rowan took a deep breath, pulling one of her knees to her chest and resting her chin upon it. "I don't think I'll ever get used to all this."

"Oh, you won't." He shook his head, giving her a small smile. She closed her eyes for a moment, Stiles watching her closely. Her hair was still damp, and her face was clean of makeup. The underneath of her eyes were dark, but not as dark as they had been a couple weeks ago. Without her makeup he realized how many freckles and moles she had, just like him.

"Stop staring at me." Rowan mumbled, making him clear his throat.

"Staring?" He rubbed his hands on his jeans, scrunching up his face. "I wasn't staring."

"Sure you weren't." She opened one of her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Stiles?"

"Yeah?" Stiles sat up straighter, watching as she rubbed her lips together before opening her mouth to speak.

"I-"

"Rowan!" The two teens jumped and looked up, Rowan's eyes widening as she looked at her mom standing in the doorway. Her hands were on her hips, and it wasn't concern painted on her features, but anger. "What the hell happened?"

Rowan couldn't answer in time, her mother already turning to Stiles and giving him a death glare. "You. Ever since Rowan started hanging out with you and all your little friends, she's been reckless and keeps putting herself in danger."

"Mom," Rowan stood up, stepping in front of Stiles. "He wasn't even there, none of this is anyone's fault. I'm okay, see?"

She spun in a small circle, waving her hands over her body.

"You're okay?" Evelyn asked, her facade falling quickly. Rowan nodded and wrapped her arms around her mother, who hugged her back and let out a long sigh. "I'm sorry."

Melissa knocked on the door, holding up a cassette player. Stiles stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans and giving them a small nod. "That's uh, my cue."

"Bye, Stiles." Rowan smiled at him, making him walk into the wall next ti the door as he smiled back. She watched as he shook himself out, giving her an awkward wave as he left with Melissa.

"He's..." Evelyn trailed off, Rowan scrunching up her nose.

"I know."

___________________________

Not Edited.

AHAHAHA I AM SO SORRY THAT I HAVE PRACTICALLY ABANDONED YOU ALL, SENIOR YEAR IS HARD.

In other news, I got a Cal Grant Scholarhsip so WOO.

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Brea xx