Blurry » Sterek

Chapter 29

After convincing Jackson, Allison, and Lydia to stay in the science room, mixing Molotov cocktails, Stiles sets off in search of Scott. He's fumming with anxiety, panic coursing through him and he just needs to feel like he's doing something.

"Stiles," Scott grits out, head bowed. Stiles exhales sharply in relief. "Scott, thank god. The alpha—"

"Don't," the werewolf warns, sticking his hand out to stop Stiles' advances, "Don't come near me. The alpha got you guys here...he wants me to kill you, Stiles. He wants me to kill all of you. And I think I might."

No, Stiles can't do this on his own. Derek is stuck outside and Scott isn't in control. He could tell the others, at least they would know what they're up against. The odds still wouldn't be in their favor, but it's better than nothing, right?

"Scott," Stiles swallows, bottom lip trembling, "Please, I can't do this."

"You have to, Stiles!" Scott growls, "You have to get the others out of here now. The alpha is waiting for me to make a move and I can't keep this up. So whatever plan you have, good or bad, do it!"

Stiles has to ground himself again, stop his thoughts from playing out the worst case scenario, because Scott is right, he's the only one who can do something right now. He has to be the one to save Derek and to stop Scott from killing their friends.

The male sends a last glance at his half-shifted best friend before running back the way he came. The three other teenagers jump when Stiles bursts through the door, out of breath but determined. His eyes scan over the work they've accomplished: four cocktails.

"We're making a run for it, but we have to go now," he announces to the expecting eyes. The group doesn't have time to second guess until they are already running down the hall, toward the entrance.

"What about Scott?" Allison questions, looking over her shoulder every couple of seconds. Jackson and Stiles undo the chain as fast as possible, pushing them open. "We have another plan. You three have to get out of here."

"What? No! I'm not leaving without Scott," Allison declares, crossing both of her arms. Stiles sends a pleading look to Jackson, who just nods and begins pulling the protesting girl with him.

"Okay," Stiles breaths to himself, watching the Porsche pull away from the school. He spins on his heels, spotting an unconscious Derek against the brick wall.

"Come on, Derek, you have to wake up," the teenager whispers, frantically surveying his surrounding while simultaneously trying to find a pulse. He's kneeling next to the werewolf, swallowing back the tears. "Please, Der, you're not dead. You can't be," Stiles whimpers, pressing his clattering teeth together. He has to count his own breaths to keep a panic attack at bay, that won't help anyone right now.

"Please," he begs quietly one last time before laying his head against Derek's chest. Stiles jumps at the sound of a heartbeat, startled into a smile. "Good," Stiles breaths, "Now I won't feel as bad for doing this." The boy climbs over Derek's unconscious body and pulls back his fist.

A low rumble turns Stiles' attention away at the last second, a large wolf perched atop the school right above the two. Stiles doesn't realize he still swung until a hand stops his fist.

"Derek," Stiles sighs out. "Stiles!" He replies, concerned. Derek rolls them without warning, knocking the breath from Stiles' lungs when he hits the ground and a long pair of claws dig through Derek's middle, nearly making it into Stiles' skin as well.

The alpha peels an unwilling Derek away from Stiles' body, and the student scrambles across the ground, back to where everyone left their Molotov cocktails. "Derek!" Stiles calls, giving the beta just enough time to duck. He knows Derek needs a few minutes to heal before he gets himself killed, so he grabs two more.

Derek is slowly crawling away from the commotion. With one arm in flames, Stiles targets the other. He fumbles with the third when the alpha catches the second, barely managing to catch it off guard.

For the first time, Stiles feels confident that they can take the monster down with their lives in tact.

"Stiles, behind you!" Derek warns, pushing to his feet. Stiles whips around, jumping back as Scott swipes the last cocktail.

"Scott..." Stiles swallows nervously, "You don't want to do this." He puts his hands up in surrender, glancing behind him to make sure Derek is okay. He's taking cautious swipes at the alphas legs and back, weakening him further.

"I have to, Stiles. He's my alpha," Scott declares, inching closer. "But he's not," Stiles quickly retaliates, "He's not your alpha, Scott. You don't even know who he is, and-and alphas are supposed to guide you." Scott looks conflicted, confused. He's fighting his instincts. "He's the one who turned me," he states, voice slowly returning to its normal tone. "Yes. Yes, he bit you which made you a werewolf but that doesn't make him your alpha. You don't have to listen to him, especially if you don't want to. You're in charge of you, Scott, right? And you don't wanna hurt anybody, do you?"

"No."

"Good," Stiles nods, "And who's in charge of you?"

"I am."

"So do you considering this monster your alpha?" Stiles is hoping and praying this works, if this isn't a break through, him and Derek are as good as dead.

"No."

"Say it, Scott!" Derek shouts. "He's not my alpha," the beta declares.

"Say it again!"

"He's not my alpha!" Scott's roars, launching the last Molotov into the alphas chest. Derek finally gets an opening, tackling him to the ground as it begins transitioning back to human.

With claws raised in the air, Scott and Stiles rush to Derek's side to see the man who caused all of this.

"...uncle Peter?" Derek utters.