Blood Moon Rising

Part 8

Stiles was half way out the car when I heard gunshots firing towards us. The werewolf howled again and let go of Stiles. Stiles slid back in the car and covered me from the bullets that were flying; we heard the werewolf climb back on top of the hood until he ran off. We heard a few more stray bullets, then it became silent. Stiles lifted his head up and looked at down at me. He sat up I followed. I hugged Stiles‑eyes wet.

"Stiles!" I sobbed. The liquid forming in my eyes refused to stay there; they streamed down my face now.

"Shh, it's alright," Stiles said through gritted teeth, he placed his arms around me and brought my closer. "Are you hurt?" I let go of my grip on him and nodded my head no; as I let go I felt wet liquid on my chest I brought my hand to my chest. I pulled it away and saw Stiles blood on my fingers. I looked back up at Stiles and realized how badly he was bleeding. So, I reached down and grabbed my black dress that was on the car floor and put pressure on his shoulder.

"Shit," Stiles winched a little.

"Sorry," I said.

"You could have given me a warning." Stiles bit down on his lower lip. We heard footsteps coming towards us. A flashlight shined in our faces. The light turned off revealing Sam.

"Sam!" I said. I dropped my hand from Stiles chest and quickly covered my chest with my hands remembering what I had been doing before the attack. Stiles grabbed his flannel and covered me.

"Where's Dean?" I asked as I started buttoning the flannel and grabbed my shoes and put them on and began to open the car door. Glass fell everywhere when I opened it. Stiles gathered his jeans and slid them on; he winced when he used his injured shoulder.

"He went after the werewolf, and he isn't happy right now, Stephanie," Sam said with some disappointment in his voice. I nodded and knew what he meant.

I was sitting on the hood of the car and Stiles was still using my dress to put pressure on his wound, he was leaning against the bullet, shattered windows of the Impala. Sam was pacing back and forth.

"Should we try and go look for him?" I asked.

"He should be fin‑" Sam began to say. We heard the bushes rustle near us interrupting our conversation. Dean appeared; he had blood splattered all over his face and clothes. Dean stopped next to Sam.

"Dean, did you catch the werewolf?" Sam asked.

"NO, HE GOT AWAY, but that's the least of my worries now," Dean said. Dean walked over to Stiles and got in his face. Stiles stood straight, standing his ground.

"I should have never agreed to let you take my sister out, you little shit." Dean closed his fist tightly. Stiles was silent for a moment, he never took his eyes off Dean.

"You know what, Dean, I'm getting tired of your fucking attitude towards me." Stiles threw my dress to the ground vulgarly and then shoved Dean forcing him to stumble backwards.

"You know why I don't like your little punk ass? It's because you keep getting my sister hurt." Dean shoved Stiles back.

"You're unbelievable. I just stabbed that fucking werewolf to protect her."

"Well, you did a shitty job at it," Dean said.

"Dean, Stiles, stop." I jumped off the hood and got in between them, placing my hand on both their chests.

"Steph, get out of the way," Dean yelled, he looked down at me and then back at Stiles.

"It doesn't have to play out this way," I begged. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam approach me, he gently grabbed my arm and pulled me away.