Seven

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"Lock it, lock it!" Scott cried.

"Do I look like I have a key?" Stiles retorted.

"Grab something!"

"What?"

"Anything!" I screamed.

Stiles glanced outside.

"No," Scott realized.

"Yes," Stiles argued.

"Stiles, please don't," I begged.

He ignored my protests and stepped outside. He picked up a pair of wire cutters. "Run!" Scott yelled. "Stiles! Stiles!"

Stiles ran back in and placed the wire cutters on the door. "Where is it? Where did it go? That won't hold, will it?"

"Probably not," Stiles admitted.

We headed into a classroom as we tried to escape the homicidal maniac werewolf outside. The boys began pushing a desk to try and block the door. "The desk. Stop, stop. The door's not gonna keep it out."

"I know," Scott replied.

"It's your boss," I said in a shaky voice.

"What?" Scott breathed.

"Deaton, the Alpha?" Stiles repeated. "Your boss."

"No," Scott said, not believing us.

"Yes, murdering psycho werewolf," Stiles argued.

"That can't be," Scott tried again.

Stiles groaned. "Oh come on. He disappears and that thing shows up like ten seconds later to toss Derek twenty feet through the air? That's not convenient timing?"

"It's not him," Scott insisted.

"He killed Derek," I argued.

Scott shook his head. "No, Derek's not dead. He can't be dead."

"Blood spurted out of his mouth, okay? That doesn't exactly qualify as a minor injury. He's dead, and we're next," Stiles retorted.

"Okay, just--what do we do?"

"We get to my Jeep, we get out of here, you seriously think about quitting your job, good?"

Scott walked over to the window and tried to open it. "No, they don't open." Stiles informs. "The school's climate-controlled."

"Then we break it," Scott reasoned.

"Which will make a lot of noise," I snapped back.

"Then, uh, we run really fast. Really fast. Stiles, what's wrong with the hood of your Jeep?"

The three of us stared down at Stiles' Jeep. "What do you mean? Nothing's wrong."

"It's bent," I said as I noticed that part of the hood was ajar.

"What, like dented?"

Scott shook his head. "No, she means bent."

Stiles looked closer. "What the hell--"

Stiles was cut off as something flew through the window. A piece of glass landed in my arm and I silently cursed. I'll deal with it later. For now, I just need to survive the night. Yeah, sure. Survive the night in a dark school with two idiots, one of which I like, and the other who is a werewolf. Survive the night with a beastly Alpha who is hunting us. No stress at all. Way easier said than done.

"That's my battery," Stiles stated as he moved towards it.

"Don't," Scott ordered.

"We have to move," Stiles protested.

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